#ordinary orangie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sorcerersofnyc · 3 years

Text

The Last Thing Left (Zemo x F!Reader) 6/9

If it wasn’t so painfully ironic (and hilarious to watch,) Helmut would find the relationship between Sam and James a little sad.

Ghosts weren’t enough to hold two people together.

While they wait for Torres to locate Donya Madani, Zemo brings Sam and Bucky to the home he once shared with you.

You reunite and he reflects upon his relationship with you (his wife’s friend and his friend’s wife) and your journey from being people with mutual friends to partners.

Chapter 6: When he wakes up beside you, Zemo remembers the day everything changed.

Angst, various mentions of death & mourning, Zemo’s wife’s name is Heike because of comics. Implied alcoholism by Zemo as a means to deal with his guilt. I use Serbian Cyrillic as a stand-in for Sokovian. The reader likes waffles (this is a non-negotiable fact).

Note: Main Character is neutral in most regards, but the story was written with my own cultural background in mind. (In other words, I won’t say what she looks like but I envision her as being black.)

First Chapter | Previous

***

Grief softens, but it never truly leaves.

So when Helmut wakes beside you, he isn’t surprised to find grief there as well. Pain has been a constant companion over the years but today’s grief is nothing but a dull throb in his chest.

He had a dream about his wife again. It wasn’t a sad dream, it didn’t hurt to look upon her face, but his heart ached for her regardless.

In his dream, she was happy, happy to sit and chat in a home that wasn’t quite in Sokovia or Spain, but rather a mix of them both. You were there, too, laughing and smiling alongside her.

She was taking the time to explain something to him, something you already seemed to understand. You both laughed when he failed to get the joke.

With a sigh, Helmut sits up in his bed and turns toward the window.

It’s dawn. The rising sun baths the room in an orangy-pink glow and you sleep soundly beside him. He traces little circles unto your shoulder as he thinks about breakfast, what might he make for you. The answer is obvious, really.

He then turns his thoughts toward his mission, whether or not Sam’s associate would locate Madani soon.

He also thinks about what you may do if he kissed you awake.

He thinks about many things as you sleep beside him.

And as he listens to the steady rhythm of your breath, he thinks that he’s truly happy.

***

You never asked what happened to Vasily Zaev and Helmut didn’t offer.

News of his death never reached any headlines in Spain or any other International News Broadcast for that matter.

There were the occasional rumors of a scandal, many of which were exacerbated by social media, but nothing outside the ordinary.

His demise was attributed to liver failure and he’d given his entire inheritance to a young woman about a quarter of his age. Tragic indeed.

In the weeks that followed that night at the Opera, you took an interest in his work. There would be no more missions like the one with Vasily (none would ever be that easy and he didn’t like to see you so scared,) but there were plenty of opportunities to conduct research.

And on some nights, you’d talk about more than just mission, nights when you shared your hopes and dreams for the future, your past sorrows, and secret anxieties.

He’d sit with you while you worked on your art, bought you flowers when you completed a commissioned project, and asked plenty of questions about some of your more unorthodox means.

Sometimes you’d take breaks together and watch television or read.

It was strange, just like the day you first hugged him, Helmut felt as though the two of you had breached something.

He now knew where you were born, how you became involved in the arts, how you felt the night you met Dominik at Heike’s dinner party, (“I always thought she set us up on purpose, but she always denied that she did.”)

It was those stories, those small, stolen moments that made him see you differently.

So by the time autumn settled and painted the leaves orange, red and brown, you were no longer just a friend his wife had—you weren’t even the wife of a friend that he had.

You were a friend to him as well.

“Have you seen this?” You asked one day, sitting right beside him on the couch. You were so close, Helmut could feel the heat of your body pressed up against him.

“See what?” He asked, though he knew what you would say.

“This article.” You slid your phone closer to him, leaned forward so close that the curve of your bosom pressed against his arm for just a moment before you leaned away. For the sake of your pride, he pretended not to notice.

The articles mattered more than creating an awkward situation.

He learned that you found articles about the Avengers to be the most interesting. Each headline would often read something like: ‘Accountability: Who Pays for the Avengers’ Mistakes?’ or ‘Sokovia Six Months Later’ and ‘‘Banning Ironman? One Minister Holds Firm.’

They were engrossing.

“They say the U.N. may get involved.” You said one day. “What do you think would happen if they did?”

“Something I’d like to see.” Was his thoughtful reply. And it was true; because even with your help, even as you grew closer together, the weight of his promise still bore down upon him.

The weight of his failure still haunted his sleep.

So for every moment he spent with you, he worked ten times harder. He worked late into the night to complete his research, learned everything he could about the Avengers and the Winter Soldier to complete his plans.

He had to work; he had no choice. Because every laugh, every smile, every lingering glance, every reprieve from his grief was a betrayal to that promise he made to his family—because happiness, even for a moment, meant that he had forgotten them.

There was no other way to justify his actions. In what other way could he be happy in a world where his family was dead?

He hoped to find the answers at the bottom of a bottle, but scotch, whiskey, brandy, and vodka, couldn’t provide a balm for his soul. Not the way your smile did.

So clearly drinking was his only option, the safest option, because he couldn’t let his thoughts linger on you.

He couldn’t compromise his mission.

But then one day, in mid-November, something changed.

Helmut read the headline for an article he knew would suit your fancy, but you didn’t come down for breakfast to discuss it with him, nor did you open when he knocked on your door.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” you told him—but you never came.

You left your room around noon but you barely spoke a word.

Helmut should have been happy for the opportunity to work, the chance to focus without you stealing his gaze, but he couldn’t ignore the lump that formed in the back of his throat when his thoughts drifted to you.

Over the past 7 months, you encouraged him to talk about his feeling, to open up more—but it seemed you weren’t interested in doing the same.

You left the house a word to him.

So Helmut waited for you to return:

He conducted his research and decrypted more files.

He brewed a pot of coffee.

He prepared lunch.

Had a glass of whiskey.

He checked his phone for messages but found nothing from you.

He reorganized your spice cabinets, bringing the most used containers to the front.

He checked his phone again.

Had a glass of whiskey.

And finally, when evening arrived and you still hadn’t come home to him, Helmut went into your room without permission.

He was careful not to disturb your things, (even if he wanted nothing more than to pick your stray socks off the floor,) and looked around the space.

There were books and magazines neatly stacked across every surface, their genres ranged from art and fashion to relationships and grief.

He lingered on that last title before turning his attention to a paper on your nightstand. The page was wrinkled, spotted, and ripped in many places, but he knew what it was before he even held it in his hands.

It was the letter Dominik kept in his pocket, the one he held on to so tightly, the one he had with him when he died.

He frowned, and his eyebrows knit together in concern for you.

You were grieving, and your grief had taken you backward, back to the promise of a simpler time. The letter was filled with the musings of budding love, a love that had grown and flourished before the cruelties of life intervened.

Helmut understood the unpredictable nature of grief, how it came and went without reason or regard, how days or even months could go by before it returned in full force.

So he set the letter down with a sigh and left your room as quickly as he came. You arrived home 20 minutes later.

“Hello,” He greeted you by the door.

“Oh—hi.” You paused by the door, a bag of groceries in hand. He followed you into the kitchen.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” He asked.

“No, I’m… I got it.” You placed the bag on the counter, unloading a bag of flour, eggs, and a box of powdered cocoa.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” You said, but then pause when you opened the spice cabinet. Your movements slowed before you stilled completely.

“Helmut? Did you…”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s just… I…”

Helmut didn’t know it at the time, but Dominik would organize your cabinets when he returned from duty. It was his way of telling you he was home if you weren’t there to greet him.

It was that gesture that broke you.

You placed both your hands over your mouth but even that couldn’t force back your cry. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, “I’m sorry—I’m ok,” you lied, but it only seemed to make you cry harder.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Helmut spoke softly. With a hand on your shoulder, he turned you around to face him but you only shook your head. "Let me help you.”

It took a few more moments of coaxing, but once you calmed, you told him everything.

“His… his birthday is next week.” You said, and it didn’t take a genius to know who you were speaking of. “He wanted me to bake a cake.”

You set a yearly reminder to try new recipes a week in advance, a reminder you’d gotten that morning. “Sometimes I look down at my ring and I still can’t believe it. That’s I’m a...that I’m a widow.” Your voice shook around the word and you sniffled again.

Helmut walked you over to the table, helped you sit on a chair, and poured you a glass of Chardonnay.

“… I never wanted to move to Sokovia—did he tell you that?” He did, but Helmut thought it best not to interrupt you. “I wanted to be with him but I never would have considered it before I met Heike… but I loved him, Helmut, I loved him so much and he promised I’d be happy. There are days when I wake up and-” You didn’t finish that sentence, but he thought he knew what you’d say. There were days when you’d wake up and wonder why you were saved, why your loved ones died and you survived. He didn’t know if you remembered, but you told him this before, on the day he first brought you to Spain.

“… He used to wonder if he made a mistake,” Helmut started, “If he’d done you a disservice by asking you to move when his duties kept him away.” He released a bitter laugh at the memory. “He asked me once if he were selfish.”

“What did you say?”

“That he was.” Helmut shrugged, remembering the look of resignation that crossed his friend’s face, a look you then mirrored exactly.

Helmut put his hand on your shoulder.

“He was selfish, but he didn’t make a mistake… your happiness wasn’t wasted and he’d want you to be happy again.” After all, you didn’t fail Dominik. You hadn’t given him a false sense of security, a promise of safety away from the fighting—Not like he had with his own family.

At first, you looked as though he said something outrageous, something you couldn’t quite believe. But then you nodded, releasing your emotions with a shuddering sigh.

“You’re right… he would want me to, want us both to…”

He sat beside you for the rest of the night. He’d listened to you talk and then when there was nothing left to say, he sat with you in peaceful silence, your head against his shoulder.

And on his birthday, Helmut helped you bake a cake.

You stood in the kitchen together, mixing batter and flouring pans. The sweet scent of your creation spread and the home you shared was filled with joy and warm memories.

By the time you finished, you were exhausted, so he offered to take you to the best restaurant in the city.

It was the least he could do for you.

When you arrived, Helmut told the hostess of your reservation—Zemo, a party of two—and she checked his name off a long list that he somehow managed to get ahead of. The hostess noticed your wedding bands, and as she stepped away from the podium, she said,

‘De esta manera, el señor y la señora Zemo.’ Right this way, Mister and Misses Zemo.

Your eyes growing to the size of dinner plates as you turned to him, but he kept his gaze settled on the hostess, his jaw set closed.

It was an honest mistake, one he’s sure others made before, but to hear it said aloud was baffling. He intended to correct the young lady, but she gestured for you to follow before he thought of what to say.

If he said you were friends, others would presume you were having an affair. Normally, the opinions of others wouldn’t concern him, but he didn’t want anyone to think badly of you.

“That was weird,” you said. “I forgot people must think we’re…”

“Should I have corrected her?”

“It was an honest mistake, nothing worth embarrassing her over.”

And that was that.

You both agreed to treat it as a joke, to have fun with the idea because the alternative, explaining how you came to be together, was much worse.

And besides, Helmut thought while taking in his second cocktail, it wasn’t exactly hard to feign some level of attraction to you; you looked beautiful that night. He liked the way your formal clothing fit around your curves, and the way your heels gave shape to your legs.

He felt immediately guilty for that, however, and followed that guilt with another sip of his drink.

But that night wasn’t the only time someone mistook the two of you for a couple. Like meeting someone whose face one begins to see everywhere they go, he began to notice it more and more.

When he signed for your packages the delivery person would look at his ring and never bother to ask for familial confirmation. The old woman at the bakery would smile a secret, knowing, smile when he asked for two pastries to take home with him. The list of culprits went on and on. Everywhere he went people saw his ring and they’d assume he had a wife at home—that you were his wife at home.

On a gloomy day in January, you convinced him to visit an art gala with you. You made a group of friends around the area but one fell violently ill after a trip to New Jersey. You didn’t want to go alone so he agreed to put his work on hold for the evening.

You lead him to a room of abstract paintings and his attention was torn between the open bar and dizzying array of dark shapes pressed across the underside of a canvas. He couldn’t appreciate the work the same way you did, but he tried.

As he looked for what you described as ‘the emotional turmoil conveyed by the paint strokes,’ you drifted to the next piece and a gentleman approached you.

He was tall, with neatly trimmed hair and a clean-shaven face. The man seemed to recognize you from somewhere and offered his deepest condolences for Sokovia.

“Thank you,” you nodded.

“It was a genuine tragedy, a modern-day Pompeii.” His words gave you a reason to pause, which he seemed to take as permission to wax poetic about Sokovia’s demise in some futile attempt to prove his intellectual prowess.

“Yes, well, thanks for that.” You continued on politely. He didn’t seem to notice the exasperated edge. He opened his mouth to say something else, to perhaps touch you on the shoulder, and Helmut made the immediate decision to ensure that didn’t happen.

“Драга,” Dear, he called as he approached you, placing his hand on your lower back. “I’ve brought you a drink.” Helmut offered you the cocktail from the table, one he was about to drink himself before the man made you uncomfortable. You smiled, a look of relief on your face.

The man was no genuine threat, probably just a lover of art, but something in the way he looked at you, the way his gaze drifted from your face to your wedding band and the instant look of shame that overtook his (admittedly handsome) features, gave his intentions away—and Helmut didn’t like his intentions at all.

“Хвала ти љубави,” Thank you, my love, you replied with the mischievous smile you adopted whenever someone mistook you for being his wife. It was a playful flirtation, one that meant nothing.

Helmut greeted the man with a simple nod, pretending to have been oblivious to his blatant flirting, before guiding you away.

“I never would have thought to compare the destruction of Sokovia at the hands of an Artificial Intelligence to the eruption of Mount Vesuvius near Pompeii. How truly genius.” He said in a mocking tone.

“Stop that,” you nudged him, hushed laughter in your voice.

“I hope that isn’t what passes as flirting these days.”

“Flirting? He wasn’t flirting.”

Helmut struck you with a judgemental look. You tilted your head in contemplation.

“He wasn’t flirting,” you repeat. “It was just weird, that’s not really a topic most people bring up at parties.” You finally slowed your steps and you looked at a statue in the center of the room. It was clearly meant to represent a couple, but their abstract forms created a tangle of limbs that hurt his eyes to look at.

It was then he decided he hated contemporary art.

You took a sip of your drink—his drink—and turned to him. Your eyes met briefly, and you smiled, your eyes sparkling with mischievous glee.

“Let’s see what’s in the next room, душо,” Honey. You exaggerate.

“Of course, драга, lead the way.” You hooked your arm around his and you explored the rest of the gallery.

Eventually, you reached the main lobby where you set your empty glass on a table with dozens of others. An orchestra played a mix of soft melodies and something he thought to be tunes from an action movie. The music found it’s underscore in the murmurs of the guests who indulged themselves in cocktails and hors d'oeuvres.

He watched them for a moment and a dark feeling filled his belly.

This was the life he should have been living—perhaps not at a gaudy contemporary art gallery but something just as fabulous and amazing. This was the life you deserved to live.

Had it not been for Ultron, for the Avengers and others like them, he’d be enjoying this life between missions and military tours.

He might have even retired early, lived his life in bliss.

He felt angry, distraught, and disappointed all at once. So many dangerous thoughts spun around in his head and without even thinking, he looked at you. In his moment of grief and self-pity, he looked toward you to anchor him.

Your eyes landed on the couples swaying back and forth on the polished floor of the gallery. He noticed how close you stood to him, how your arm wrapped around his, the way your hand rested on his forearm.

He took a breath and he made himself smile.

“Would you like to dance, драга?”

“I’ve seen you dance, Helmut. I don’t.”

“You wound me.” He said, pulling you toward the others anyway. “You’ve yet to see me waltz.” (Or perhaps you did, at his wedding or your own, but it wasn’t the time to bring that up.)

He unraveled his arm from your and slid into position, pulling you close.

“You remember the steps, don’t you?” He asked because you had far less practice waltzing than he did. You nodded, but your eyes proved less certain than the gesture implied. “Don’t worry, I’ll lead.”

And he did.

Helmut led you through the steps of the dance, a simple box step he mastered many years ago.

“I think people are looking at us,” you whispered.

“They can take notes,” he replied. You were the only person in his gaze.

You anchored him; your kindness, your friendship, your playful banter, and your outlandish sense of design. With you he felt like less of a failure, his grief softened and he could see a clear path forward in your eyes—an alternate path if he was strong enough to take it.

But the U.N. taking actions against the Avengers seemed all but inevitable then. Helmut knew he could use their plans to his advantage, but it also meant he was running out of time.

Still, part of him wanted to surrender to your gaze, but the other part, the part that won, held firm. He tried to look away but then somehow ended up noticing the soft curve of your mouth and the fullness of your lips.

When the orchestra stopped playing, your dance slowed to a stop. But you couldn’t stop staring at each other, both cursed with the knowledge that something between you had changed.

***

Thanks for reading! Next time we'll get to see what happens when your flirtation with Helmut is no longer a game.

Feedback is very much appreciated. Please tell me what you think! This was a fun chapter to write.

Tag list:

@actuallyanita @fillechatoyante @viviace @buckyandlokicanhaveme @sapphiredreamer26 @robur-bellicum

Previous | Next

#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x reader #mcu zemo #this was the longest chapter yet #my goodness

21 notes · View notes

addie-bear · 3 years

Text

Addie isn’t one to brag, but she does get lots of gifts on her birthday. She has a big family, even after losing so many of them, not to mention both and Iris and Chance go out of their way to treat her like a queen. It makes her flustered and happy, always a huge reminder of how many people she has in her life that she can depend on.

This years there’s a couple more. A lot has changed after all, new people added. She half expected the large gift basket from Leera, topped with a card that had a picture of the new mother with the newborn Egan, saying it was from both of them. She smiles. It’s extremely heartwarming.

What she doesn’t expect, however, is the small black box that’s delivered to her office. No name. No note. Not even a bit of ribbon. Just a plain black box. She, of course, insures that it’s been properly scanned. She’s still an important figure head, and it seems even when one enemy falls another one crawls out to take their place. However, the package is deemed safe.

Carefully she opens it, vigilant of anything out of the ordinary. Nothing happens, however. No flying daggers. No random gas. No bomb. It’s a just box full of lavender tissue paper.

She pushes the paper out of the way, and her eyes widen. It’s a very pretty and intricate silver brooch, oval in shape. Along the edges are several glimmering gemstones, all in different colors. Addie catches on rather quickly that they represent the different colors her flames can turn. At the sides the gems are a little bigger, one an orangy-red and the other a deep ocean blue. The top gems are a little smaller but still bigger than the others, lined up in deep amber, cerulean, emerald green and bright fuchsia.

The center of the brooch shows a brilliant phoenix, beautifully detailed right down to the feathers and the flames. Perhaps what catches her attention the most are the bird’s eyes. They are gemstones as well. One is a deep blood red, and the other bold, dark purple.

She turns it over in her hands, partly from fascination and another part to maybe figure out who had sent it. She found a word in a language she couldn’t quite place at first, before taking out her phone to scan it and put it through a search. She snorted loudly when the result came back.

Plookesian: “hope”

2 notes · View notes

sweetimagines · 6 years

Text

We Could Be Dead Tomorrow - Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Armitage Hux x Poe Dameron

Description: The end of the war is near and Armitage is on the winning side.

Warnings: None I can think of.

Word Count: 2209

A/N: In case you’re reading this on mobile, I apologize about the dividers that don’t show. It makes the time skip unnoticeable...

Armitage observes his reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing his own image. He doesn’t feel like himself without his uniform, loose hair and, even worse, having a stubble on his cheeks.

No matter how uncomfortable he’s feeling right now, it doesn’t even compare to what he’s been through before. And just like every time he’s been forced down, he gets back up.

He gathers his strength, pets Millicent and walks out of his shared quarters, one of the few places he currently has security clearance to. That, the mess hall and the gym, they’re still more than he predicted, but the bare minimum he worked - sacrificed - for.

He watches dirt piling on top of his shoes as a nice chilly breeze passes by him on the threshold of D’Qar’s hangar. A beautiful, purple and orange hued sunset fills his eye.

The sunlight blinds him temporally - not quite like on Starkiller Base, but he has sensitive eyes - so he squints down, gazing at the duracrete path before him, decorated with a few sunblossom petals - pretty but deadly, like Hux - and candles, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

A narrow, short walkway leads to Poe Dameron, who’s standing with General Organa by his side, ready to initiate the ceremony as the few guests sit on chairs placed on each side of the path.

Hux looks around at some of Dameron’s friends and fellow rebels - including the traitor FN-2187 whom Poe insists on calling Finn, the stormtrooper he once saw leading potential, even Captain material, before he renounced the First Order - who put aside their personal feelings towards the former First Order General to support their friend’s decision.

Among all the faces, the one that stands out is the one that’s missing: Kes Dameron.

Armitage hates himself for damaging Poe’s relationship with his father to the point in which Kes doesn’t even comm anymore.

It all escalated when Dameron decided his mother’s ring would belong to Hux. Wearing it now only reminds him that he’s not worth it.

Even though he wishes Poe could have his father there, he’s more than glad that Brendol is not alive to witness this - thank the maker (or Phasma) -, not because he’s ashamed but because he’s proud.

It unfortunately also means there’s no one else there for him.

His mother was taken from him so young he barely remembers her, his best -only - friend is gone, and having a cat attend a wedding is unwise - specially when said cat is aggressive towards strangers.

Either way, the only person he really needs to be there is just a few feet away from him.

Poe’s dressed in a ragged suit, without a tie - even a bow tie would be too much to hope for -, that compliments his body perfectly. He’s clean-shaved for once in his life and even managed to tame his curls - which sounds nicer than it looks, since the whole rebel style fits Poe Dameron like a glove.

Armitage’s anxiety returns as he discovers concern stamped on Poe’s face when he glaces up at him. He wonders if it’s because Poe’s not used to seeing him so unstylished.

Of all the reasons to feel insecure since defecting, his uniform has been number one. The clothes provided to him by the Resistance are in no way uncomfortable unlike he expected. They’re fitted to his size and made with quality fabric, but they don’t provide the confidence his uniform did - since it was custom-made.

Dameron’s worry has little relation to his look and more to him not moving, though. Hux isn’t even aware of how long he’s been stuck in the same place and he tries to walk, but simply can’t take one step forwards, nor backwards.

Poe rushes to him and, in that moment, the past few weeks become real and it all truly sinks in.

Armitage defected the First Order to be with Poe. The Resistance did not execute or imprison him for his crimes in exchange for information and valuable secrets only a man with Hux’s talents would have access to. General Organa allowed him to marry the love of his life and even agreed to officiate the ceremony, instead of breaking their deal, throwing him on a cell and losing the key.

General Hux is a traitor now and he doesn’t feel the least bit guilty. He’s relieved to be rid of “Supreme Leader Ren” and his childish, reckless and impulsive acts - including force choking. Other than that, he doesn’t quite know what he’s experiencing, since this is the first time he has the freedom to express anything other than rage.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” His fiancé asks softly, breaking his chain of thought.

They’ve been through so many moments like this that Dameron knows how to approach him like the palm of his hand. Hux despises being a burden to the person he loves the most, the only one he loves. He feels broken and his soon-to-be husband is the glue holding him together.

“I’m nothing more than a thin, white as a sheet of paper, covered in scars, weak-willed, evil man.” Armitage’s voice falters as he quotes some of many of his father’s insults towards him. He hated Brendol in life and all the more so in death, because even though he made sure his father got what he deserved, his words still, against his will, echo inside Hux’s skull, the scars still ache and the damage seems irreversible. “You can’t possibly want to marry me. You deserve so much better than a rabid cur, a deserter, a coward.”

Poe cups his cheeks, caressing it with his thumb. A soothing motion done more often than not nowadays. It always calms Armitage and today is no different.

Hux matches his breathing with Dameron’s as his friends wait not so patiently for all of it to be over. That spites him further more.

He chooses to think about something else, otherwise they will never move on. His mind instinctively goes back to the moment that got him to where he is now.

Armitage agreed to another of Poe’s spontaneous trips. There were only a few weeks to go until their next scheduled meeting and he learned the hard way that denying his boyfriend only makes him more determined.

After an hour into the course to Batuu, Hux raises his eyes from his datapad and notices Dameron’s nervous. His fingers are fidgeting and he’s unusually quiet.

Hux’s first instinct is to think there’s something to do with a Resitance strike. He doesn’t voice his concern. They both know the only way their relationship works is if they don’t discuss the war.

Then he considers the fact that Poe might have had enough of the secrecy and guilt of their romance and wants to end it. If Armitage were to break up with a man that carries a vibroknife on his sleeve, he, too, would be nervous.

He decides to test the waters by reaching for Dameron’s shaky hands. His fears are eased when his boyfriend smiles and tangles their fingers.

They drop out of hyperspace and Hux holds on tightly to his seat as Dameron dares himself to fly through the Surabat River Valley because its tall-pointed spires of rock make it difficult for pilots to navigate. Hux tries to reason that.

“I’m not just any ordinary pilot, Hugs.” Poe smirks proudly.

“Why do you have to be so cocksure, Dameron?” Armitage covers his eyes with his forearm as they almost colide with a large rock.

Surprisingly, against Hux’s predictions, Dameron manages to fly them safely through. He knows Dameron will never stop gloating.

Poe lands by the edge of the river on a flat rock. They disembark to watch the sun set with their feet on the water.

Armitage doesn’t much see the appeal of getting his feet wet and watching light dim but he does appreciate the orangy sunset making Poe’s tanned skin glow.

Once the sky is fully blue again, they take off, heading into the village, docking on the ancient ruins rather than on the bays, since First Order troopers have been spotted on one of them.

They change into civilian’s clothes before disembarking. If they’re not in uniform, most people have no reason to glance at them a second time.

Hux is still vigilant about any unwanted attention. He knows, even though Dameron looks completely relaxed, that he’s also analyzing if they’re in any danger.

Poe insists they take a selfie holograph with the ruins on the background before going to the cantina on the other side of the village.

Armitage knows how dangerous it is to possess such a holo, but denying Poe is almost impossible, so he caves. “ONE holograph and you have to promise not to show it to your Rebel friends.”

He poses next to Poe after he swears, but, a second before pressing the button, Poe stands on his tiptoes and kisses Armitage’s cheek.

“Not fair, Dameron. Delete that and take another one.”

“You said ONE holo, no do-overs, Hugs.” Dameron smirks. He has the tendency of getting what he wants and it simultaneously annoys and impresses Hux, whose face really shows it.

They walk through Savi’s path all the way to the cantina. “Black was the spire that... called me to stay.” Armitage reads the Aurebesh statements on the boarder. “Charming...” He doesn’t mean it.

It doesn’t look half bad on the inside, though. Hux inspections some costumers’ food from the corner of his eye and concludes it’s fit for human consumption.

They order dinner but can’t decide on drinks so the bartender suggests they try the Blurrgfire.

Dameron choses a secluded table on the corner so they can have some privacy. Hux is thankful for that.

Poe’s back to his usual chatty self as their food arrives, making Armitage loosen up. They finish their meal laughing about one of Poe’s infamous Academy stories.

Just after they order dessert, Poe pulls out a nice, small, matte black, velvet box from the inside pocket of his jacket. Armitage’s heart stops beating at the sight of Shara Bey’s ring, the one Poe had been carrying with him since she died.

“Marry me?” Dameron asks simply - since he knows Hux isn’t one for romantic gestures.

Hux can’t believe his eyes or ears. “You’re serious...?”

“When I think about my future, there are many variations, but the one thing they all have in common is you. I want you by my side. I want to take care of you and Millicent and someday maybe younglings of our own.” Poe holds Armitage’s ring hand. “You don’t have to answer now.”

“I’ll marry you, Dameron.” Hux takes the ring with great care and slides it on his finger. It’s the most precious thing he’s not allowed to own after this trip is over.

Right now, he doesn’t care to think about the logistics of how their marriage will work. He just wants to enjoy being engaged to Poe Dameron, the dashing pilot who stole his heart.

Poe holds his fiancé’s ring hand, looking at him straight in the eye, standing on the tip of his toes to match his height. “You’re the only one for me, Armitage Hux. You’re the strongest man I know, most elegant, covered in cute freckles and incredibly brave for defecting.” Poe holds his hands. “I know you’re more than what the First Order shaped you to be. I want to be by your side as you figure out who you are without them.”

A single tear escapes Armitage’s watery eyes. Poe traces it’s path with his thumb. “If you want to call the wedding off I understand. I love you and I’ll wait.”

Hux nods a hurriedly no. “I want to be yours.” He takes a slow deep breath, lets it go fast along with all insecurities. As long as he has Dameron by his side, he knows no matter what happens, they’ll be fine.

They walk down the aisle together, hand in hand. Suddenly, he doesn’t care about the judgment tattooed on the guests’ faces. He focuses on Poe Dameron, the love of his life, the man he’s about to marry.

Leia skips over to the formalities and goes directly to the pronouncement of marriage, knowing everyone is anxious to the reception, which will probably be their last time to relax before the big mission.

“Do you, Armitage Hux, take Poe Dameron to love and respect for as long as the force allows you?” Leia smiles at him as if she can see past the actions of General Hux of the First Order. She uses an almost motherly tone, making him question how Ren could have ever given her up.

“I do.” Hux answers, facing Dameron. He’s smiling, for what feels like the first time.

“Do you, Poe Dameron, take A...” Organa doesn’t have the chance to finish her sentence.

“I do! I do! I do!” Poe replies, eager to kiss his husband.

Armitage smiles through a breathtaking kiss from his husband. “I love you, Poe Dameron.” He knows he doesn’t say it enough.

19 notes · View notes

rasavgems12345-blog · 5 years

Text

Buy Loose Sapphires Online

A member of Corundum fraternity Sapphire is a family member of Ruby. Actually, Corundum a colorless mineral is known as Ruby when inclusions emit hues of Red color. It is Sapphire when found in shades of Blue, Yellow, Purple, Orange or Green. The Name Sapphire like Ruby finds origin in the Latin language. In Latin, it is known as ‘Sapphires’ or ‘Blue Stone’. Being a member of Corundum family Sapphire is recognized for its hardness and is on the same level as Ruby at 9.0 on the Mohs scale.

Sapphire one from the exclusive group of Precious gemstones is a gemstone denoting devotion. It represents trust, honesty, purity, and loyalty. Its association with the royalty and romance can be gauged from the fact that Princess Diana was given a blue sapphire ring by Prince Charles on their engagement. Sapphire is a legendary gemstone which had been a glittering possession of many famous Emperors and Queens of the yore. Sapphires have adorned many historical crowns. Sapphires along with jewelry use have many non-jewelry uses due to its inherent hardness properties. It is widely used in circuits of electronic appliances. It is also used in scientific instruments and prostheses.

Ancient Greek and Roman Nobles believed that Sapphire was a protector from envy and harm. Holy men and ordinary folks linked Blue Sapphire with heaven and celestial bodies and they wore Sapphires to seek their blessings, guard chastity, create harmony among people etc. They regarded Sapphire as a stone delivering harmony, peace and good luck to the owner. In, Sri Lanka, a special pink -Orangy Sapphire known as ‘Padparshcha meaning ‘Lotus Flower’ is found. Sapphires are gifted to the couple completing togetherness for 5 years. Sapphire is the birthstone for people born in the month of September.

There is a very common test conducted for all precious gemstones known as 4 ‘C’s test of cut clarity color and carat weight which helps the buyer to determine their appearance and price. Sapphires generally blossom when cutting in a cushion or oval shape. Sapphires when cut in Cabochon shape give an impression of a six-rayed star. Clarity should be good in a nice Sapphire. Sapphires like other precious gemstones should be transparent and vibrant in color. A Sapphire of pastel color shall highlight other aspects of beauty and value. Light-toned Sapphires will be less valued as the inclusion will be more prominent. Light colored with the nice cut will be more reflective and enhance its liveliness and brilliance. A few more tips for making a good buy of quality Sapphires:

. The polish and symmetry of loose Sapphires should be excellent. While polish will make loose Sapphires charming and brilliant; symmetry will give it an elegant look.

. Always go for Sapphires with certification especially when buying online. Only certified Sapphires can lay a claim on good quality.

. The size of loose Sapphire should also be considered. The size of the stone bought should match its value.

. Always go for a trusty and honest vendor who offers competitive prices when you buy loose gemstone online.

Rasav Gems has been in the trade for over four decades has earned the immense reputation as a leading manufacturer, the wholesale supplier of quality precious, semi-precious gemstones. Based at Jaipur, a recognized gemstone centre globally, Rasav Gems takes pride in attaining buyer’s confidence and faith. Rasav Gems by its website www.RasavGems.com offers a wide spectrum of products in all shapes, sizes and lots for connoisseurs to choose from.

Rasav Gems’ online catalogue at www.RasavGems.com though has a huge inventory to choose from but the option to customize order as per the requirement of the buyer has found favours with buyers. Planning to buy Sapphire online visit our website Rasav Gems.

#gemstone wholesale suppliers #buy gemstones wholesale #gemstone suppliers #buy loose gemstones online #buy gemstones online #buy gemstone online #semi precious stones suppliers #buy precious stones #buy loose gemstones #buy semi precious stones #buy gemstones #wholesale semi precious stones

0 notes

idasolonline · 5 years

Text

FURNITURE SHOPS IN KARACHI ORANGI TOWN

Who we are

We are the furniture make and show owner of Furniture in karachi. The most favorite furniture shops in karachi Orangi Town is Online Furniture Club. The company online furniture club make different furniture on daily basis. We deal with every thing in furniture. Such as Sofa, dining table, Coffee Tabe etc. The best part of our business is we always take orders from customers and provide them low but satisfactory prices. The customer of furniture shops in Karachi Orangi Town ask us for making their customize design.

We have our name in Furniture Market since long.

Competitive prices for furniture shops in karachi Orangi Town

Online furniture club is a favorite company for furniture shops customers. Because we keep competitive prices. We take short notice or orders from online customers who want to buy our items or products. The price is low because we have always taken our material in bulk quantity from the suppliers of wood, and other stuff of furniture. This means we can help you provide low cost but with high quality furniture.

The reason you choose us

We use our own dynamic design produces in our image of mind and we make those designs in real. Sofa making is our specialty. The designs are always unique and the price is always low as compare to others.

We also deal with high quality home accessories such as Stool, Bar Stool, Shelves, Swing Chairs, and Cushion.

For Bedroom Set:

Moreover we deal with Full Bedroom Furniture such as Bed set, Dividers, Dressing, Wardrobe, Night Table, Bedroom Chairs and side drawers of Bed set.

For living Room:

We create Coffee Table, Side Table, Tv Stands, Sofa Sets, Relax Chair, Corner Sofa Set and Hi Back Chair

For Dining & Kitchen:

We create Dining Chair, Dining Table and Dining Set.

In modern time you will never look for a previous design. However we use previous designs in our new creation because you OLD IS GOLD.

The production unit of Furniture Club guarantees you the best and fit of life furniture for you. Furniture Club is a leading brand in Karachi and Pakistan.

Our item extend is ergonomically structured and is demonstrated to builds proficiency through legitimate blood stream and for averting spinal pain through immaculate lumbar help. It has demonstrated to forestall genuine wounds like spine circle slip. Tired back in the wake of sitting for a really long time or getting a head surge with tired legs in the wake of working for a considerable length of time, impact proficiency. Since your work relates completely to these variables, we guarantee and addition in proficiency of representatives and avoidance of spinal pain. Ace Chair Series is intended to take best preferred standpoint of human body mechanics by situating the body to permit ordinary spinal stance while working and in this way enabling it to work best.

#furniture #furniture shop sofa sofa shop

0 notes

camouflagekiss · 7 years

Text

forty-one

Is there a box sitting next to you? Nearby.

Have you ever put a paper bag over your head with holes for the eyes? Can't say that I have.

What’s a quote you hate? I can't think of one right now.

Can you do a cartwheel? I wish.

Are you hopeful? It's kind of a downfall.

Do you do a lot of stupid things? Not really.

Are you trying to avoid something painful right now? It's kind of hard to avoid it.

What tattoo would you get if you had to get one? A maltese cross.

Does your hair need to be washed? No.

Are you scared? Over somethings.

Are you bothered by something? So much so.

Are you double jointed? Kind of.

Do you have sorrow in your heart that you are ignoring? You could say that.

Are you scared of public speaking? I guess it depends who I'm talking to and what it's about.

Are you short? Average.

Are you Irish at all? I wish I were.

Is your middle name plain? Ariel, no and I love it.

Are you nice? For the most part.

Have you ever decided not to buy a shirt and later wished you had? Probably.

Do you look your age? People say I look a lot younger than I am.

Are you jealous of someone right now? In a way I guess.

Are you hurt? Yes.

Are you angry? Yes.

Can you dance? No.

Do you enjoy shopping with the opposite sex? I guess it depends who it is.

Have you ever gotten high under the stars and, if not, would you want to? I have.

Have you ever met someone named Fisher? Last name.

How stubborn are you on a scale of one to ten? It all depends.

What’s your opinion on beards? Depends on the guy.

What is the thing that makes you take a survey? Boredom.

Have you ever had an alcoholic beverage? Uh, yeah.

Do you ever feel like you just HAVE to sing out loud? Haha yes.

What would be your most ideal profession? Firefighter or photographer.

Have you tried those colouring books for adults? Yes.

Do you wash your dishes by hand or do you have a dishwasher? Both.

Do you ever get a chance to stay home alone? If not, why not? Uh, yeah.

What is the craziest hairstyle and colour you’ve had? When I accidentally dyed my hair pretty much black...

Do you prefer an actual book or ebooks? Why? An actual book, I like being able to hold it and flip the pages.

What was your first gaming console? Sega.

Do you have any siblings? If so, how close are you? Yes and not super close.

Is there something you’re eagerly waiting for? I don't know if I would say eargerly waiting...

What is something you’re very passionate about? Firefighting.

Is there something you’d like to change about yourself? Absolutely.

Have you ever had a sunburn? Where on your body was it? Uh yeah...all different plaves.

Would you enjoy being famous? No.

Do you collect anything? Giraffes.

Do you enjoy travelling? Yes.

Where do you carry the things you need with you when leaving the house? My purse.

On a daily basis, do you prefer to go by car or by bicycle? By car,

Do you know your ancestry? Somewhat.

What has been the most beautiful place you’ve visited? Pureto Rico.

What is something that makes you sad? .

Does your mother know where you are? Considering she's right down stairs, yes.

Have you ever been kicked out of your house? No.

Do you carry around aspirin with you? Usually, yes.

How about bandaids? No.

A hairbrush? Yes.

What’s better, your pockets or a purse/backpack? Depends.

What color are you wearing the most of right now? Navy blue.

Do you plan on going to college in the next couple of months? I graduated three years ago.

Are you in a room with carpet or a wooden floor? Carpet.

Do you think you take way too many surveys? Yeah.

Where do you post these surveys after you take them? Tumblr.

Do you normally eat dessert? If I feel like it.

Do you think you could be happy if you had to live with only nine outfits? No.

Do you watch sunrises? When I can.

Do you ever imagine that you live in an entirely different world? I guess.

If you could change your middle name, what would you change it to? I wouldn't, I love mine.

Would you rather change your first name or your middle? Neither.

Do you wish your last name was more interesting? Kind of, it's very boring.

Do you have an ordinary middle name? No.

Do you have an ordinary last name? Yes.

Do you worry too much? I tend to.

What’s your favorite leaf color? A really pretty orangy red color.

Do you bake? I mean, I can.

What was the last thing you painted? I went to a paint night and painted Mt. Monadnock.

Do you think you are talented? Ish.

Do you like the smell of autumn leaves? I like the smell of Autumn, if that's what that means.

Do you write poems? I have.

0 notes