strands of pearls

The Signs as Nymphs
  • Aries: Lampades, the nymphs of the Underworld; these nymphs serve both Persephone and Hecate, powerful goddesses, as ladies in waiting and torchbearers. Their skin and eyes glimmer like a candle's flame, colored a brilliant, heady orange or as dark as coal; their smiles are blinding and their laugh is like the crackle of a flame.
  • Taurus: Alseides, the nymphs of glens; Taurean nymphs reside in meadows and groves, basking in the sunshine, walking with the deer and caring for the plants and animals; their skin is always rosy and sun-kissed and it shimmers like gold and smattered with the same soft pattern as a doe, and eyes like a doe's as well, thick hair braided intricately and decorated with flowers.
  • Gemini: Aurae, nymphs of the breeze; Gemini nymphs drift through the air, playing with human's hair and dancing through the leaves. Their skin is a soft, silvery blue, smooth as the sky, only broken by the small scales scattered across their cheeks and joints, all radiant blue; their hair floats around them and their voice is like chimes.
  • Cancer: Limnades, nymphs of lakes; these quiet nymphs drift through the murky water of lakes, playing with the fish and basking with alligators and turtles, and seducing anyone who might pass by. Their skin shimmers dully, slightly green in tint and their faces are tattooed with dark green stripes that decorate their cheeks like a trail of tears.
  • Leo: Anthousai, nymphs of flowers; these playful nymphs play in the forests, fields and gardens, flirting with unwitting humans and decorating themselves with flowers and plants. They smell like lilies and jasmine so butterflies flutter around their heads; their skin is patterned like irises, brilliant purples, golds and pinks, delicate like a water painting.
  • Virgo: Hydryades, nymphs of the trees; these quiet nymphs reside within trees and forests where they care for animals. Virgoan nymphs' skin is camouflaged so that they may blend in with the trees, dark and intricate patterns which stretch across their backs and decorate their faces, eyes slitted like a reptile's.
  • Libra: Nephelai, nymphs of the clouds; Libran nymphs are very rarely seen by humans as they reside in the clouds; they are dreamy, quiet and peaceful creatures who fly with the birds and provide the world with rain. Their skin is like pearl which varies from the softest white to the angry grey of a storm, their eyes are as pink as the sunrise and their hair floats around them in a haze.
  • Scorpio: Naiads, nymphs of freshwater; these nymphs can be found in rivers, lakes and springs where they hunt fish and anything else that wanders too close to the water's edge. They also seduce any humans who happen upon them. Their eyes are large and dark to see underwater, their hair a messy tangle and nails long and sharp; their skin is scaled like a koi's but a brilliant silver or bronze.
  • Sagittarius: Epimeliad, nymphs of apple tress and flocks; Sagittarian nymphs follow flocks and explore the world around them, playing with horses and cows and goats and seducing their owners; when they sleep they return to their original state, an apple tree. Their eyes are bright like a spark, their hair white like apple blossoms and wool and their skin is patterned like the bark of a tree.
  • Capricorn: Oreiades, nymphs of the mountains; these nymphs are highly reclusive and quiet, they reside in the most remote mountains in the world and are very rarely seen by humans. They resemble the animal of their Sign, their pupils rectangular and their eyes a sharp gold, small horns curving from their foreheads; their hair is kept in tight pleats, their skin speckled softly to blend in with the jagged rocks.
  • Aquarius: Asteriai, nymphs of the stars; these nymphs live far away in the vast expanses of space where they drift and play in complete silence: constellations are their embrace, shooting stars their tears. Their skin is as brilliant as the sun, golden, red and even deep blue, and it shimmers in an unending pulse of light.
  • Pisces: Haliae, nymphs of the sea; Piscean nymphs reside in the sea and can occasionally be spotted dancing on the seashore. Their hair reaches their ankles, strands of pearls and shells woven within it; their skin has a pearlescent sheen from years spent in the water and small scales, pink and pearl-like, decorate their webbed hands and creep up their legs.
Elsewhere University- Feathers

Like a whole bunch of other people, I saw @charminglyantiquated ’s Elsewhere University Comic and got SUPER INSPIRED. And since she’s so generously encouraging other people to play in her sandbox, I present ‘Feathers’.  EDIT : PART 2 HERE

You go to Elsewhere University. You’ve been going to Elsewhere University for (years and years and years and years) for three years now. You know how things are. You’re not an RA, but… Mm, you could have been.

Might still be. Aren’t yet.

This is your junior year (you think). You know how things are. You carry salt in one pocket, iron in another, trinkets to bargain away in your book bag, offerings in your purse, pearls around your neck.

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Roses - Fred Weasley

Prompt: Ravenclaw reader has been receiving gifts from an anonymous sender and after her friend drags her to the second match of the Triwizard Tournament, their identity is revealed.

Word count: 7,305 (sorry I got carried away)

Warnings: Maybe two swear words, other than that nothing


A bouquet of luscious red rose tied together rested against the door frame. Your breath hitched in your throat as your school work fell from your hands. They collided with the floor in an instant creating an echoing crash to follow.

Most cases you would have rushed to pick them up but the gift contained all your attention. Your fingers pressed to the side of your jaw, the palm of your hand covering your mouth to mask the gasp.

You scanned the hallway searching for any form of life. The empty corridor suggested no lead on as to who dropped the surprise off. Although there was a note attached to the clear plastic outer layer.

Bending down at the knees you plucked the thick card from the envelope and flipped it open. Excitement flooded you like a schoolgirl receiving a valentine. Not that this was too far from reality.

You unfolded the card gleefully yearning to see who the sender was. The tilted black cursive reflected opposite to the chicken scratch you had been gifted with the week before. This was neat, almost as if it had come fresh from a typewriter.

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Bat-Aunt: Part 7

Prompt: How Bruce Wayne’s life changes when a little sister is thrown into the mix

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6


“You look stunning.”

    You glance in the mirror at the man behind you. It’s pure stubbornness that keeps you from scowling. Turning around slowly, you give Thomas Elliot a small smile. “Thank you Thomas.”

    When he takes a step closer you take a step back. You see the frustration in his eyes at the move, but it’s quickly gone. “I was hoping to steal a dance.”

    “I haven’t even made my entrance yet Thomas. There are many things I have to do, before I even think about dancing.”

    “Of course. And do you have anyone to escort you in. There’s quite a few men waiting for you to arrive, and I’d be happy to help keep them at bay.”

    You wanted to laugh at that. You knew about the single men waiting for you. The eligible bachelors determined to get the step up in life that came with marrying into the Wayne family. Thomas might as well have been their leader. “I’m quite capable of defending myself.”

    Before you can blink Thomas Elliot is in your personal space, his hand gripping your upper arm painfully. You don’t let the pain show, you refuse to give him the satisfaction. His voice lowers to a whisper, “Now, Y/N don’t be that way. This game we’ve been playing was fun, but it has run its course.”

    You glare at him before spitting out, “This is no game. I have no interest in you, and I never will. Now let go of my arm before I call security. Then you’ll be in the papers for something very different than you had hoped.”

    The look on his face was terrifying, “Make me.”

    “Gladly.”

    The addition of the new voice was welcome. And as Thomas Elliot was pulled off of you and shoved away, you could only grin at the familiar head of dark hair. The look on your nephew’s face was priceless. It was all anger, but he still looked adorable. He was dressed in his own tux, and his hair was slicked back with some of Bruce’s hair product.

    You’d watched as he and Bruce had gotten ready, as he had begged your brother to let him shave. And Bruce had been insistent that he wasn’t ready. The fact that Dick was ten years old supported that.

    “Well if it isn’t the adopted circus freak.”

    Rage filled you at the words, but before you could surge forward Richard came back with, “I might be a circus freak, but at least I know the meaning of the word ‘no.’ Even better, I know how to take a hint.” Thomas took a step forward, and Richard widened his stance, ready to take the doctor on. You knew Richard would win.

    “Well, what’s going on here?”

    You smile at the sight before you. Barry Allen had always been very casual. His line of work seemed to demand it. But standing there, dressed in a tux, you couldn’t help but be somewhat impressed, and a little flustered.

    Barry’s posture was relaxed, just like it always was, but you could see the fire burning just behind his eyes. Carefully he positioned himself in front of Richard, and taking the hint, your nephew slowly walked backwards, until he was standing right in front of you. Calmly, you wrap an arm around his shoulder.

    “And who are you?”

    The smile never leaves Barry’s face, “Barry Allen. Y/N’s boyfriend.”

    You want to laugh as the meaning behind the words sink in, the look on Thomas’ face almost seals the deal. Instead you glance down at your nephew, who’s staring at you with big eyes. You wink at him.

    “How long has this been going on?”

    Barry glances back at you, “About nine months, right?”

    You shrug, “Give or take a few weeks.”

    He smiles before turning back to Thomas, “As you can see, I have this covered.”

    The rage and Thomas’ eyes, has you pushing Richard behind you, “And what do you, common of the earth scum, have to offer her?”

    You scoff and answer for him, “Love? Laughter? Affection? Hell of a kisser.”

    Barry smiles at you and in that second of distraction Thomas charges him. You watch with a smile as Barry dodges and then puts him on his ass. As if out of nowhere, security shows up and hauls Thomas to his feet. That’s when your brother appears, “You’ve overstayed your welcome Thomas.”    

You watch the doctor sputter, “Bruce, I was just trying to …”

“Force yourself on my sister. Understood. Which is why you are now banned from all Wayne Gala events and Wayne owned buildings. Go near my sister again, and I’ll pull out a restraining order.”

You watch as a yelling Thomas Elliot is hauled out of the building, before turning your attention to Bruce. He and Barry are in the middle of a staredown, when finally he breaks the silence and asks, “My sister?”

Barry smiles, “Yep.”

Bruce looks around him at you, “You’re not going to let me kill him, are you?”

You move forward and wrap your arms around Barry, “I love him Bruce.”

Your brother sighs, “And you couldn’t tell me this why?”

Barry’s hand covers yours, “I don’t know if you know this, but you have a habit of hovering and being just a tad over protective.”

Bruce sighs, “She’s my little sister Allen. She’s a grown ass woman who’s never had a problem making her own decisions. She’s stubborn as hell, and vicious when it comes to protecting those she cares about. And you … well you’re like a bunny. You break her heart, and she’ll chew you up and spit you out herself.”

You smile at your brother before going over and hugging him. “Thank you.”

He kisses your forehead, “Nothing to thank me for. You’ve always had good taste. Speaking of which I need to borrow you for a minute.”

You look back at Barry, who’s dealing with a narrowed eyed Richard, and nod. “We’ve got to be quick. Richard looks ready to interrogate.”

Bruce winks at you, “Exactly the point.”

You follow Bruce down the hall and into his bedroom. You take a seat on the bed as he rummages through his chest of drawers. A minute later he appears in front of you with a velvet box. More than a bit curious, you take it and open it. You stare at the contents before your fingers ghost over the strand of pearls inside. “These are … were …”

Bruce nods, “They’re mom’s pearls. Dad gave them to her, they were one of her most prized possessions. Seems only right, that you should have them.”

You glance at him, “Are you sure?”

He nods, “My neck is too thick to wear them.”

You laugh as he helps you put them on. Once they’re around your neck you walk back to the spot where Barry and Richard are waiting. Your nephew seems a little puzzled over something, but Barry simply smiles at you. Extending his arm he asks, “You ready?”

You nod, “Always.”

anonymous asked:

because the winter finale of S6, au in which princess!Emma has a pirate sneaking into her bedroom at night and all the guards secretly know but they tell no one of the royal family about it

Y’know I should probably finish this one before it all gets Jossed to hell this Sunday…

Quite on accident, Emma found herself half in love with a pirate, of all people.

She’d accepted her young widowhood quite graciously, focusing all of her energies on raising her son – and a fine young man Henry was turning out to be. She’d thought nothing else would honor her late husband’s memory than to ensure that their son, the future crown prince, would bring nothing but honor to their family.

But Henry was growing up, as all young boys do, and as he went squiring about and having his own adventures, he needed his mother less. Emma found herself drifting from one activity to the next, bestowing her princess’ favor upon charities and the good people of her kingdom, but something felt… off.

Missing.

Until the night a man vaulted over the railing of her balcony, mistaking her rooms for some treasure vault.

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“Deconstructing Patti”

I was lucky to attend Deconstructing Patti tonight and it was a TRIP so I am writing this entire fucking research paper so all you guys can live vicariously through me.

-First thing, because I know this is what y’all came to hear: BI COMPANY! It sucks that Joanne won’t be a lesbian, but Patti says there is at least one gay pairing with the other suitors. Joanne will have a much, much younger husband. Either they haven’t finished re-writing or Patti just doesn’t have a script yet because that’s all she knows. They start rehearsing August 6th of 2018.

Also to keep you on your seats, RAUL ESPARZA SHOWS UP, CHRISTINE EBERSOLE SHOWS UP, HOWARD MCGILLIN, MORE

NOW FROM THE BEGINNING:

-Patti pre-recorded the “no taping, no cellphones message” with a wonderful snarl on cellphones then says, “but disregard that entirely, have a ball tonight” but I still didn’t see A SINGLE CELL PHONE the entire time. No one was willing to risk that shit, even with express permission from Patti herself.

-She looks fucking amazing. I’ve only ever seen her in costume on stage before. She had on a short little sparkly blue dress with long sleeves. Her hair looked fantastic. Incredibly hard to believe she’s 68. She starts with Some People and the vibrato is A+++

- PATTI NEEDS A HIP REPLACEMENT. So it turns out this is the big reason she was not planning on doing musicals after War Paint. She had sort of hinted at injuries and age, but it’s actually quite severe. She really could not walk well tonight and it was kinda heartbreaking because she looks and acts so youthful. She had a painful looking limp. At the same time, she refused to change out of her very high heels. She had brought out flats just in case and Seth encouraged her to change, but she would rather limp fabulously. Incredible.

- She picked up Company because of Marianne Elliott. She wants to work with female directors. Late career Patti is a hardcore feminist.

-Christine comes out for “Face to Face”. She looks gorgeous. Scott Frankel comes out to play piano very  impressively.

Christine: “How much do we love Patti?” Lots of Applause.

Patti: “How much do we love Christine?” Lots of Applause.

Patti, semi-jokingly, looking at Christine, in low, sultry voice: “How much do we love each other?” Me: dies. Fucking fan service, Patti LuPone.

Christine talks about how one of Patti’s massive Helena necklaces fell apart during the final scene of War Paint a few days ago. At first, it just dropped to the ground. Patti tried to stuff it in her purse but it didn’t fit. She’s struggling with it so she leaves it on the table. It’s like a triple strand of pearls and they are falling everywhere intermittently, like punctuation to every line. Plunk…plunk……plunk plunk plunk. It’s a total mess and the stage is covered in pearls. Christine gets to the line where she guesses what’s in Helena’s lipstick, beeswax, etc…and freshwater pearl for shine and the audience dies.

- PATTI’S HELENA DIARY:

When Helena is “writing” in War Paint, Patti actually writes a diary about the audience and stuff. She’s got a huge stack of pages from the beginning of the run. A few paraphrased excerpts:

My personal favorite: “Han… what does this say? Hangover Tuesday. Oh..”

“Tina Fey in audience today, we’re saved” sarcasm hahaha

“That’s just a doodle”

“This Great Comet drama is EXCITING *Patti cringes, next one is also about Great Comet* “Okay I’m not reading those” (omg)

Seth takes this huge stack of pages and auctions it on stage for Equity Fights Aids.

Patti adds, “Wait, how much would you give if I read all of them to you over drinks at the St. Regis?”

Seth: “You get Patti’s stack of notes. Please put them on Instagram. There’s many inappropriate ones she refused to read. Also, Patti LuPone herself will read her notes to you over dinner.

Patti: “Not dinner.” (She’s not buying you dinner LOLOLOL)

SOMEBODY PAID $7,000

- Seth: “Patti has a lot of feelings about the President”

-Patti tells a story about working as a waitress at a skeevy bar with some skeevy guys in college, one of whom somehow got them down into the foundations of Juilliard and stuck a gun into the small of her back, sort of jokingly to scare her. She hears herself telling this story, “Wow, I am the picture of class”

-Howard McGillin, Billy to Patti’s Reno in the 1987 Anything Goes joins Patti on stage, they sing “You’re The Top” together. Seth asks Patti how she came up with the sexy Reno characterization.

Patti: “It’s inherent in the lyrics. Like Blow, Gabriel Blow” *Audience Laughs*

Patti: Oh, that’s not what I mean. Oh! I mean the lines “Good by day, good by night in that song”

Oh my god, not BLOW Gabriel. Oh, no.

Seth: What’s sexy about good by day, good by night?

Patti: You know!

Seth: I don’t!

Patti: She’s good by day and …good….by night, oh, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!

-Patti’s drinking a huge glass of Prosecco:

She sips happily for awhile. “Oh, I feel sick from the wine”. Getting a little clumsy.

10 minutes later: “Never mind, I feel good now. It’s like when you have a drug and you’re like ugh this is awful, give me another!”

30 minutes later, she’s polished off most of her wine, the third encore is “With One Look”, she gets one bar in, stops abruptly: “Oh, I have to burp, I’m sorry”. Audience dies.  She’s so embarrassed. So cute hahahaha

-Patti on her Glenn Close rehabilitation:

I didn’t want to sing Sunset, because I didn’t want people to think there are sour grapes. It’s Glenn’s role in New York. Mine in London. So I wasn’t gonna sing it in New York *pauses, thinking*… so I’ll sing the London version *laughter*

- Starts choking up when talking about the ephemeral beauty of theatre (good vocab word, Patti) and how it exists mostly in memory

-Patti talked about how she loves imperfect voices with soul a hundred times more than a perfect instrument with no feeling. Perfect voices are nothing without soul, but also people who sing with soul must be imperfect. Interesting. That’s why she doesn’t like to listen to a lot of today’s Broadway singers. She listens to Joni Mitchell.

-She made the final call back for the Sweet Charity national tour at 17, but didn’t get the part. She never booked any professional rolls before Juilliard. Patti: “Do they still even do cattle calls?” Seth: “Yes, people still audition, Patti. Omg.”

- The Magaldi guy from the Deconstructing Patti London concert YouTube video, flew out to NY to serve as random Magaldi guy again when Seth called him. A couple of us asked for his autograph and he absolutely flipped a shit he was so excited “THIS NEVER HAPPENS IN LONDON”

-Che was sung by Raul Esparza for several songs. “Well this is a fucking dream come true” he said about singing with Patti. There was also an original Evita cast member who sang the word HAIR in

“Eyes, hair, mouth, figure 
Dress, voice, style, movement”

He joins them on stage to sing the word HAIR in “Rainbow High” He is my new hero. She struggles a bit with Rainbow High “Well, there’s one for my next voice lesson”

-Frances Ruffelle, the original Eponine on the West End and Broadway, came out to sing with Patti. She didn’t sing very well, but Patti was very emotional to hear her sing again

-When Patti was in the chorus for the barricade scenes in Les Mis she had to pick a “job”. She really did not want to be in the chorus so she just picked what the guy next to her was doing which was smelting She wasn’t even really sure what a smelter does so she goes out there and pantomimes smelting some hot metal over a bale of hay. The director is like “Patti, you’re an idiot”. The next night, she goes out there and smelts over the hay again, pretends the hay caught on fire, and spends the scene silently putting out her hay fire

-She doesn’t really like the current production of Hello, Dolly! because she does not like how it’s a recreation of Carol Channing’s productions without any new discovery for the actors allowed by the director

-Patti: “You used to be able to get to the theatre. Now Times Square is all focused on a Hershey bar!” Seth: “A Hershey bar? A single bar?”

-Sings “Trouble” from The Music Man 10x better than in the YouTube video. FANTASTIC.

-Seth talked a lot about how a lot of her habits would be considered unprofessional, like how she always looks out at the audience before shows.

Patti: That’s not unprofessional!

Seth: It is. You peering out with your Evita wig on!

Patti: Yeah, well with Evita, I would get caught! People would wave to me so I’d just wave back!

Well, I want to see the guy who hates my guts, who will be the hardest to convince. I want to play to him. At this show, I looked out and saw everyone fanning themselves. So I went back and said TURN UP THE AC THE PEOPLE ARE HOT OUT THERE. You gotta take care of your audience.

-Patti on Lack of Common Sense (paraphrased): “I’ve never had any savvy-dressing for auditions, re-booking canceled flights. I thought I was supposed to stand behind the taped line in the A Chorus Line theatre at my Evita audition, so I took a big step in front of it. It was just the line in A Chorus Line. My brother was in A Fucking Chorus Line. I’d seen it. Several times. Still didn’t make that connection. Yet, I heard about auditions and things. Not sure where I found out about that stuff at all! That’s how you know it’s meant to be. I just found out about these casting calls even though I was clueless.  

-Patti and Seth fight over ALW:

Seth: He’s great [in Evita].

Patti: *Makes disgusted face*

Seth: No this really is great.

Patti: It’s not.

Seth: Turn her mike off.

-She ends with the Ladies Who Lunch. You can tell she’s working on her character for the revival. It’s very different from her Lonny Price version, seems much darker and more subdued. I’m excited to see what she develops.

-I’ve heard her live before but it’s still such a shock to me. Her voice is nothing short of incredible. Her high tones are less crystalline in her older age, but her low tones are so much richer. I thought her voice sounded a little raspy, like she was losing it, but it didn’t keep her from hitting any of those belts (except Rainbow High, which was kinda mean of Seth lol) I’m going to War Paint closing night in December. She didn’t come out the stage door tonight so I have my fingers crossed for December. 

Hope you guys feel like you were there with me! I know a lot of you wish you could be there so I wanted to be thorough. Let me know if you have any questions!

OKAY BUT LIKE WHEN BLUE ZIRCON MENTIONED THE POSSIBILITY OF PD’S PEARL SHATTERING HER BOTH OF THE DIAMONDS PEARLS LOOKED AT EACH OTHER WORRIEDLY SO COULD THAT MEAN SOMETHING OR WHAT?!

very precious to me

Imagine Claire had given the pearls to Brianna a bit earlier in 03x05…

Claire set down her now-empty tumbler of whisky, squinting at the lights twinkling on the tree. Joying in the sight of all the familiar ornaments – her favorite, the one she had made Brianna just after she was born – the small Statue of Liberty from their trip to New York when Bree was in middle school – the worn but cherished hand-knit sprigs of ivy Frank’s mother had knit when he was a boy.

So many memories – reminders of times that had once been as real and tangible as the cool press of the couch leather under her bent legs, the condensation from the glass that she wiped on the battered tartan throw hanging over the back of the couch, the rumble of a truck passing in front of the house on this silent night.

Memories – that’s all she had of Jamie now. With three exceptions –

The iron ring she twisted around her finger.

The strand of pearls clutched in her free hand.

And the daughter who silently strode into the room, holding her own tumbler of whisky, and slid onto the couch beside her.

Brianna didn’t speak for a long while. In fairness, they *had* said a lot to each other, these remarkable past few days.

What to say to each other, when a permanent farewell looms? She had never had the gift of such preparation – not with Uncle Lamb, not with Frank. And certainly not with Jamie.

Many times over the years she had wondered what she would have said to each of these men, had she known their time together was drawing to a close. And now that she had the gift of preparation – with her own daughter, no less – the words just wouldn’t come. For any amount of preparation would never be enough.

Brianna, bless her, seemed contented to just sit, and think, and watch the fire across the room.

Claire turned – and watched her daughter. Joying in the very fact of her.

Brianna turned – and met her eyes – and smiled her father’s smile.

Claire cleared her throat.

“I have something for you.”

Brianna quirked a red eyebrow. “You’ve given me so much already, Mama –”

Claire shook her head. “This is different. Here. Give me your hand.”

Brianna took one more gulp, set down her tumbler – and extended both hands, palms up.

Claire carefully, gently laid Ellen’s pearls in Brianna Ellen’s hands.

Whatever Brianna had been expecting, this was certainly not it.

“These – what are these? They’re beautiful,” she breathed, softly untangling the long strand and holding up the pearls to the light.

“They’re Scottish pearls.” Claire’s voice was choked – sounded so very far away. “They belonged to your grandmother Ellen – were a wedding gift from an admirer of hers. Believe it or not – ” and here’s where Claire flashed two hundred years in the past, to the lined face of Marcus MacRannoch and the taste of crushing despair after the bloody fucking sadist had pushed her onto the pile of cold, dead, putrid bodies – “Believe it or not, I was actually able to meet him. His cattle provided the diversion Murtagh needed to help rescue Jamie from Wentworth Prison. You’ll remember that story…”

Brianna nodded, carefully winding the string around her neck. The pearls absolutely glowed in the firelight.

Just like they had –

Claire coughed. “Jamie gave them to me on our wedding night. I – I didn’t realize then just how precious they were to him. And how by giving them to me, he was telling me how much he loved me, without using those exact words.”

Brianna smiled a tight smile, then looked down – running her hands over the pearls.

“You – you must understand something, Bree. I didn’t want to marry him. But I had to – to keep safe. And he wanted to marry me, to protect me. He had been in love with me from the day we met, but I – well. My heart was still closed.”

Brianna shifted closer on the couch, taking Claire’s right hand in her left. Gripping her iron ring – the ring she now knew Jamie had given her. Eyes patient.

Claire looked down at their joined hands. “On our wedding night – we were…intimate…three times. He never forced me – ” and here her chin tilted, eyes flashing. “He *always* gave me the choice. He knew I didn’t want to marry him, so he gave me as much space as he could.”

She swallowed. “So – the first time, it was…short. Functional. We had to consummate the marriage, to ensure it was legal between us.”

“You don’t have to tell me this if you don’t want to.” Brianna’s voice was so calm and gentle. When had she become so grown up?

“But I *do* want to, Bree.” Claire met and held her daughter’s eyes. “You *must* know how it was between us – not only so you know about where you come from, but so you can recognize it when it happens to you. Don’t think I don’t see how Roger looks at you.”

Brianna flushed, but kept Claire’s gaze.

Brave and strong. Lips pursed – waiting.

Claire sighed. “So. The first time was to make it legal. The second time – it was…physical. Fun. He lit a fire inside of me, Bree – and I thought that perhaps being married to him wouldn’t be so bad.”

Brianna tensed a bit – but remained silent.

A log broke in the fireplace, scattering sparks.

“And then the third time, Brianna – I couldn’t sleep, my mind was so full of what had happened. I was sitting by the fire, much as I am now. And he – he came to me, and gave me the pearls.”

Where had the tears come from?

“I felt like such a fraud – here he was, giving me the only thing he had left of his mother, for he wanted to honor me as his wife. And so…”

Claire reached out touch the pearls now – eyes lost in memory.

“That was the first time we made love, Brianna. When *I* began to fall in love with him. For I saw how truly selfless and honorable he was.”

Brianna eased Claire into her arms, holding her so tight, the pearls between them.

“A man like that would never forget you, Mama,” she whispered, hands soothing Claire’s back – like she had done for her when she was small. “If he loved you that much then – I don’t know how that would ever go away.”

“I don’t think it would, darling - but it’s still a hell of a gamble.”

Claire moved to pull away - but Brianna stubbornly held her close.

“You can’t just forget a feeling like that, Mama. *You* certainly didn’t.”

Claire sighed - marvelling in the simple joy of just being held by her daughter.

“I know. I realize it sounds crazy - but I can’t help but think that way.”

Now Bree pulled back a bit - still holding her mother’s hands.

“It’s because you’re a surgeon - you live based on science, on certainty. But since when was anything having to do with - with Jamie - based on so much certainty?”

Claire couldn’t help the beginning of a smile. “Since never, I suppose.” She squeezed her daughter’s hands and gently brushed a few wisps of hair behind her ear.

“God, Bree - you are so like him.”

“Maybe, Mama,” she smiled back. “But I think I’m more like you.”

caffeine challenge

There’s a boy whose voice is a siren song to my flowers; under his tone they bloom more beautifully than ever before.

He first wandered into the tiny shop on a rainy morning, as the succulents protested where they were being dripped on, and he brushed rain-damp brown hair from his eyes and sang a lullaby to the insomniac moonflowers until they rested as they were supposed to, and then he smiled at me. He had no umbrella, he explained, and hoped he could wait out the rain here.

I did my best to ask why he ignored the cafe next door in favor of my over-crowded shop and again he smiled and took a seat and the tulips stretched to reach him, petals brushing the back of his neck. I mouthed an apology, batted them away until they grew as usual, and he let out a little chuckle at my tone of reprimand. When I asked his name I was met with yet another curl of his lips; it seemed all he did was smile or sing, a hum in his throat even as I continued moving the cacti away from the leaky window, and he did sit there until the rain let up.

He was strange, but a good strange, a familiar strange, the way the glassblower on 4th Street feels, and he slipped through my wards like silk as he left after an hour of companionable silence, the violets shivering as he whispered goodbye.

Keep reading

Camp Mapleoak ******

Betty Cooper, without a doubt the most beautiful female to grace MapleOak, summer camp for the neglected and abused, was currently standing beside him, practically bouncing with excitement. Her best friend Veronica lodge, looked severely out of place, strands of pearls hanging over a bright red tank top and tight jeans. Betty on the other hand looked like she belonged here, A loose fitting, soft denim button up rolled at the sleeves, khaki shorts and tiny white sneakers.

She was a vision.

Everyone knew about the two best friends, they were fairly popular amongst the counselor circuit, the campers loved Betty more than any other counselor and there was talk parents paid extra money to have their children placed in her group. Veronica lodge was popular amongst the prepubescent teens at maple oak and serious rival of Cheryl blossom, the other scantily clad camp counselor with fiery red hair.

Speaking of red hair, he slapped his best friend Archie Andrews on the shoulder, catching him staring at Veronica.

“Dude really?”

Archie shrugged sheepishly
“I’ve wanted her since we started counseling here three years ago, give me a break”

As soon as their leader called break and told them to head off and get their group assignments, Jughead spun around, bumping forehead to forehead with none other than betty cooper.

Placing his hand to his forehead and rubbing, he looked up and caught the most beautiful green eyes he’d ever seen.

“Ouch” she giggled.

“Shit” he said shaking himself out of his thoughts “I mean … shoot. I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking.”

She shook her head laughing 
“No harm no foul, Jughead, Jughead jones right?” She stuck her hand out “Elizabeth Cooper, but you can call me Betty.”

She knew his name?

“I know who you are, it’s kind of hard to not know who you are, miss counselor of the year.”

She blushed “oh jeez, that’s all talk, I just love the kids.”

He nodded, dazed. Did her hair always look so silky?

“Sure, yeah me too.”

“Did you get your group assignment yet?” She asked politely.

Shaking his head
“No, I’m headed over there now.”

She smiled brightly taking him by the arm.
“Oh Great! Me too, I could use an escort!”

Suddenly he was being dragged to the table and she was shifting through the paper work.

“Aha!” She smiled holding two pieces of paper in the air “Elizabeth Cooper & Forsythe Jones, forsythe?” He blushed looking down “its cute, I like it.” Her eyes scanned her paperwork quickly smiling, “not bad! I’ve got a good crew this year! What about you?”

Jughead looked his paper over, he’d had all these kids before it was gonna be good to see how they were growing up, make sure they were okay.

“Oh!” Betty smiled peeking over his shoulder, “were bunk buddies, how cool is that! I’ve always only had Kevin! It’s like fate right juggie?”

He smiled softly, he’d never heard that nickname before, it sounded good coming from her. Sending a quick thank you to god for not pairing him up with Ethel again, he nodded as enthusiastically as a moody, angst filled boy could.

“ it’ll be cool, I’m warning you, I snore.”

She giggled, “well lucky for you I fall asleep to music anyway”

“I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS.” They both drew their eyes over to Cheryl blossom, who seemed to be throwing a temper tantrum regarding her group.

Suddenly Veronica and Archie were by their sides, Veronica rolling her eyes

“Here we go, drama queen alert.”

Cheryl was ranting and throwing her paper on to the table “I am not taking this brat! You people put me with him last year and he tried to steal all of my clothes. It’s not happening. It’s me or him.” Before he knew it Betty had left his side and was speaking to the camp leader

“I can take him. There’s always an extra visitors bunk, and I don’t mind having an extra camper.” She shrugged her shoulders , the camp leader looked about ready to kiss her feet.

“Thank you ms.cooper, Cheryl I don’t want to hear another word about your group or you’ll be gone, understood?”

The redhead nodded, throwing Betty a smirk
“It’s your funeral.”

Rolling her eyes, Betty moved back to his side.

“I’m so sorry I did that, I wasn’t thinking. Is it okay that we added another camper to our bunk, I’m sure I can talk to..”

He cut her off squeezing her shoulder
“It’s fine bets, what’s one more?”

She smiled gently, squeezing his hand
“Thankyou”

Suddenly the whistle was blown and it was time to meet the campers.

Veronica grabbed Betty and turned to the boys
“Ready for one crazy summer?”

Jughead met Betty’s eyes and smiled
Archie laughed

“I’m so ready.”

They Wanna Make Me Their Queen

( Prompt: princess diaries style “I grew up not knowing I was royal and suddenly my royal grandparent showed up out of nowhere and told me I was so now I guess I’m the heir to the throne and you’re my crush from my pre-royal days but I still have a crush on you” AU ) 

PART 3

A/N: So my crush talked to me today ( it was just a simple hello but I DIED ), and I died again when I saw Tom Holland strip down to his boxers in that new trailer. My friends are probably sick and tired of hearing about me rant about Tom Holland’s abs and my new husband, Matt Murdock.

Taglist (temporary): @theactualscarletwitch | @moonlight53 | @intohook | @alaskayoung-x | @kubby14679 | @clean-and-claire | @fandoms-broke-my-life | @johnmurphys-sass | @queenofthelavalamps

Taglist (permanent): @mainspidey | @x-wing-starwriter | @tomsleftbrow | @tryn25 | @tanglefire |@midnight-memorial | @tiny-friggin-human


As it turns out, you don’t have to worry about keeping secrets from your friends for long.

After about a month of gruelling ‘after-school’ sessions with an endless string of tutors, of having to come up with flimsy excuses for cancelling on outings and get-togethers, of having to tough out the agony of avoiding Peter’s soft and concerned eyes that beg you to tell him what’s wrong, the paparazzi snap pictures of you and your grandmother having afternoon tea in the Hilton. They’d put two and two together, and before you could say, “I have a crush on Peter Parker”, pictures of you are splashed all over the front page.

Your phone’s been buzzing non-stop, but you’ve been ignoring the messages and missed calls – Did you even know fifty people from Midtown High? – too focused on your very furious grandmother, who’s been pacing the room, a wild animal in cage. Peter’s face, coupled with his adorable smile, flashes across your screen for the tenth time; you flip your phone over so that you won’t have to see his picture.

“Grandmother, I’m sorry,” You apologise meekly. “This is my fault.”

Throwing the papers aside with an impatient huff, your grandmother rounds on you, her eyes fierce and piercing. You almost regret having said anything.

“Silly child,” She says, her tone warm and exasperated all at once. “How on earth is it your fault? It’s the damn press –”

You’ve never heard her swear before. It makes you giggle.

“Frankly, I’m surprised that we’ve been able to keep you out of the public eye for so long.” She shakes her head, deep in thought. “But now that the – How do you say – dog’s out of the kennel, we’ll just have to make the most of things.”

“What’s going to happen to my baby?” Your mother demands, going into full mother-bear mode, her voice holding an edge of protectiveness to it. “Is (Y/n) going to be safe?”

(M/n), I assure you that precautions are being taken, even as we speak. There will be increased security –”

You’re sure your face turns pale at the thought of having a team of beefy bodyguards on your heels 24/7.

“– We’ll enroll her in some self-defense classes, we’ll get her a Taser, some pepper spray … Whatever’s necessary. I swear on the Crown of Serangoon that I will do anything and everything in my power to keep (Y/n) safe.” Grandmother sighs then, having gotten it out of her system, and continues. “However, I think a press conference is in order. We’ll have to introduce (Y/n) to the public officially, and the date of Coronation Day will have to be pushed forward –”

Your mother and grandmother launch into a deep and lengthy conversation about banquets, fittings, classes. And all you can do is sit there, your head spinning, a satellite out of orbit.

At least you don’t faint this time. 

It’s progress, at least, you think.


You walk into school the next day, and nearly run out screaming for Stanley to take you back home, press camped outside the school be damned.

Stanley had had to muscle his way through about three feet of screaming paparazzi pressing themselves onto you from all directions, screaming out their questions, the camera flashes blinding and searing themselves into your retinas.

Everyone wants a piece of you, it seems. Kids goggle at you when you walk down the halls; in addition to the news article, there had been a news report filled with pictures of you: From a smiley, gap-toothed, pig-tailed (Y/n) to a teenaged (Y/n), smashing her cheek with Peter, clowning about for the camera. The press had raided your Snapchat, Instagram and Facebook accounts, it seemed. You’d had the misfortune of seeing the report at a diner, but the fortune of having Stanley and his limo nearby; you’d ran out before anyone could identify you.

Kids you barely know, have barely talked to in the past year – nerds, jocks, Queen Bees – all stop to talk to you. A year ago, you wouldn’t have been breathing the same air as them; but now, all everyone wants is to talk to you, to ask for your autograph, to invite you to parties.

Worse, your friends are slipping away. You manage to wave to Michelle only once, in a corridor, surrounded by your new fan club. She doesn’t return it. Her eyes are huge and dark and accusing, all at once. As for Peter – he’s taken to spending time with Ned, and he can’t quite look you in the eyes, even when you try to catch his gaze. 

You know that you have a whole lot of apologizing and explaining to do, but how can you possibly start if your friends have already decided that they want nothing to do with you? To avoid encountering Peter, you bury yourself in your phone and hurry away. Every instance leaves you with a frigid soreness buried so deep inside that no amount of heat could wring it out.

On second thought, you accept that party invitation.


You’re wearing a slim black Costume National sheath dress, a strand of pearls around your neck. Your hair is neat, your face made up with a thick layer of makeup. You look like you’re a famous model – or a princess – and you can feel the press staring at you as you walk into the room with Grandmother.

You’d caved, had tried to dial Peter on your cell phone with trembling fingers, but it’d gone straight to voicemail. You try not to think it’s because he hates you.

Grandmother handles the interview like a pro. Public speaking is not your forte – there had been an unfortunate incident in the fourth grade involving a judging panel at the annual talent show, and the front row of students being covered in vomit. All you have to do is fix a vapid smile onto your glossed lips, sitting stiffly between your mother and grandmother.

“Princess (Y/n),” Someone’s saying your name now, and you immediately glance up, more than a little startled at being addressed. “We’ve received pictures of you and a boy identified as Peter Parker. Is he your boyfriend?”

Your hands are shaking. Your knuckles are white when you ball them up into fists. You might have a security detail, a whole armoury of weapons and weekly self-defense classes, but Peter, Ned and Michelle don’t. If you’re not careful, someone could hurt them to get to you. 

And you don’t think you could live with yourself if it did happen.

Protect your friends, only to lose them … Or disregard their safety for your own selfishness?

It’s not even a choice.

Your mouth is dry. You have to practically force the words out of your mouth. “No. No, they – Peter was just a … He’s not important. None of them are.”

The moment the lie leaves your lips, you want to scream. You want to take all your words back.

But you can’t.

anonymous asked:

Any way you could do a camp counseers bugead au? Thanks! 💖💖💖💕💕💕

This ones so cute, oh my goodness!

***
Betty Cooper, without a doubt the most beautiful female to grace MapleOak, summer camp for the neglected and abused, was currently standing beside him, practically bouncing with excitement. Her best friend Veronica lodge, looked severely out of place, strands of pearls hanging over a bright red tank top and tight jeans. Betty on the other hand looked like she belonged here, A loose fitting, soft denim button up rolled at the sleeves, khaki shorts and tiny white sneakers.

She was a vision.

Everyone knew about the two best friends, they were fairly popular amongst the counselor circuit, the campers loved Betty more than any other counselor and there was talk parents paid extra money to have their children placed in her group. Veronica lodge was popular amongst the prepubescent teens at maple oak and serious rival of Cheryl blossom, the other scantily clad camp counselor with fiery red hair.

Speaking of red hair, he slapped his best friend Archie Andrews on the shoulder, catching him staring at Veronica.

“Dude really?”

Archie shrugged sheepishly

“I’ve wanted her since we started counseling here three years ago, give me a break”

As soon as their leader called break and told them to head off and get their group assignments, Jughead spun around, bumping forehead to forehead with none other than betty cooper.

Placing his hand to his forehead and rubbing, he looked up and caught the most beautiful green eyes he’d ever seen.

“Ouch” she giggled.

“Shit” he said shaking himself out of his thoughts “I mean … shoot. I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking.”

She shook her head laughing
“No harm no foul, Jughead, Jughead jones right?” She stuck her hand out “Elizabeth Cooper, but you can call me Betty.”

She knew his name?

“I know who you are, it’s kind of hard to not know who you are, miss counselor of the year.”

She blushed “oh jeez, that’s all talk, I just love the kids.”

He nodded, dazed. Did her hair always look so silky?

“Sure, yeah me too.”

“Did you get your group assignment yet?” She asked politely.

Shaking his head

“No, I’m headed over there now.”

She smiled brightly taking him by the arm.

“Oh Great! Me too, I could use an escort!”
Suddenly he was being dragged to the table and she was shifting through the paper work.

“Aha!” She smiled holding two pieces of paper in the air “Elizabeth Cooper & Forsythe Jones, forsythe?” He blushed looking down “its cute, I like it.” Her eyes scanned her paperwork quickly smiling, “not bad! I’ve got a good crew this year! What about you?”

Jughead looked his paper over, he’d had all these kids before it was gonna be good to see how they were growing up, make sure they were okay.

“Oh!” Betty smiled peeking over his shoulder, “were bunk buddies, how cool is that! I’ve always only had Kevin! It’s like fate right juggie?”

He smiled softly, he’d never heard that nickname before, it sounded good coming from her. Sending a quick thank you to god for not pairing him up with Ethel again, he nodded as enthusiastically as a moody, angst filled boy could.
“ it’ll be cool, I’m warning you, I snore.”

She giggled, “well lucky for you I fall asleep to music anyway”

“I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS.” They both drew their eyes over to Cheryl blossom, who seemed to be throwing a temper tantrum regarding her group.

Suddenly Veronica and Archie were by their sides, Veronica rolling her eyes

“Here we go, drama queen alert.”

Cheryl was ranting and throwing her paper on to the table “I am not taking this brat! You people put me with him last year and he tried to steal all of my clothes. It’s not happening. It’s me or him.” Before he knew it Betty had left his side and was speaking to the camp leader

“I can take him. There’s always an extra visitors bunk, and I don’t mind having an extra camper.” She shrugged her shoulders , the camp leader looked about ready to kiss her feet.
“Thank you ms.cooper, Cheryl I don’t want to hear another word about your group or you’ll be gone, understood?”

The redhead nodded, throwing Betty a smirk

“It’s your funeral.”

Rolling her eyes, Betty moved back to his side.

“I’m so sorry I did that, I wasn’t thinking. Is it okay that we added another camper to our bunk, I’m sure I can talk to..”

He cut her off squeezing her shoulder

“It’s fine bets, what’s one more?”

She smiled gently, squeezing his hand

“Thankyou”

Suddenly the whistle was blown and it was time to meet the campers.

Veronica grabbed Betty and turned to the boys

“Ready for one crazy summer?”

Jughead met Betty’s eyes and smiled

Archie laughed

“I’m so ready.”

Saudade - Steve Rogers x Reader


Request
: Steve Rogers anon here! would you maybe do one where the reader’s grandmother used to be one of his friends before he was frozen, and she has powers so she’s involved with the Avengers, but not like working with them. she attends one of Tony’s parties and Steve thinks she’s her grandmother for a second before he realizes she’s a different person, and from that moment on he’s mesmerized by her? you can make up the rest!
Warnings: My English, language, my first Steve fic!! Gifs aren’t mine. Credits to their original owners. Also, Pietro is alive. I don’t care. He is alive. Oh, and your grandmother is called Meredith. I don’t know why, tbh. 
Saudade is a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one loves. Moreover, it often carries a repressed knowledge that the object of longing might never return. 
“The love that remains”
Word Count~3.3k
MASTERLIST
Pending Requests


His past felt like ages ago. Probably because it was. He had missed out a couple of things, that was for sure. But the truth was, he was missing one person in specific, other than his best friend.
A girl. Not just any girl. She was special. She wore flowers in her hair, the cold air blowing against her skin, making him wish that he could just hold her closer. She was different, delicate, elegant, loving and sweet. And she was beautiful. Stunning. And he, just like any other guy, fell for her. But he never learned that she had indeed fallen for him too.
Doesn’t it always come down to the love of a woman? 


It had always been difficult but you were always up for the challenge. You had to evolve and excel as everyone kept telling you. You never really took a break from the whole ‘I have to muster my powers and kick ass’ thing but tonight it was an exception.
You had powers, you didn’t really want, mainly because they were forcibly given to you by a crazy scientist who worked for HYDRA. That was why you wanted to train and become physically capable of doing what your powers could do.
That was how you met them. The Avengers.
You had been training with Natasha and Clint, beating the hell out of many punching bags and with Wanda, trying to catch up with your abilities. Speaking modestly, you were good.
But you never let that fact get into your head and stop you from becoming better. You knew the others as well, but you had never met Steve. Actually, that was a lie. You felt that you knew him better than you knew yourself. How was that possible? Your grandmother.
She had been his friend for as long as she could remember. She had even fallen in love with him at some point, but then he had left and joined the army. The rest was history.
She loved and fell in love again, but he always held a special place in her heart. You understood that much.
You took a deep breath and entered the Avengers Tower that tonight was packed. You felt like you were entering a club or something and truly wished you were back in the gym, with your sweatpants on. Instead, you were walking in black heels and wearing a lacy, backless and sleeveless, floor length, light champagne pink dress with three strands pearls framing loosely your exposed back. It was beautiful and you were thankful to Pepper. You just felt weird. You weren’t really that kind of girl-in all honesty, it felt like something your grandmother would wear. She was all about dresses and elegance. You favorited jeans and knives. But you didn’t really have a choice. Tony had made it very clear that it was a formal party and nothing less was expected of you. With Pepper’s outfit, Natasha’s makeup skills and Wanda’s hair tricks, you were more than presentable.
You tried not to play with your hair- it was a nervous habit of yours- because you would ruin the beautiful waves. ‘Okay, you got this’ you kept repeating over and over again.
Once you reached the floor that hosted the main event and stepped inside you froze. Tony had gone big. Even bigger than before and that said something. This was so extra… even if you were talking about Tony Stark. You couldn’t see the walls or much of the decoration because of the dim light but the music that was playing was loud enough for you to not be able to listen to your own thoughts. It wasn’t the kind of music you had been expecting, though. It was soft and melodic and… jazz? What happened to rock?
And then it hit you. The reason why Pepper had chosen that very dress, which resembled the vintage style; the reason why Nat had insisted on that bold dark red lipstick and the winged eyeliner; the reason why Wanda had chosen that hairstyle.
But then everything seemed to blur; time stilled and your eyes were fixed on a very familiar face and magnetic blue eyes. It was like electricity ran through your veins.
“You look spectacular” Pietro told you while his eyes were roaming your figure. That snapped you out of your daydream. You blushed at his obvious flirting. Where was your confidence? You didn’t blush.
“You don’t look bad yourself” you answered truthfully. He was a handsome young man and the black, three-piece suit really did make him look ravishing. Especially that silver tie that matched the exact shade of his hair. He wasn’t exactly arrogant, not to you at least. He offered his arm and you took it, sending him a thankful smile.
“I’m afraid, you win this time” he admitted as you were approaching the other Avengers. Your eyes took in their outfits. Tony had been serious about this one.
“You did listen to me” he commented a bit sarcastic but impressed as well. You wanted to roll your eyes but you stopped yourself. It wasn’t polite. You had manners. You grandmother had taught you well.
“It’s nice to see you too, Anthony” you said, calling him by his full name. He hated that and he knew that he was annoying you every time you called him that.
“Yeah, whatever. This is Capsicle. Capsicle, this is-” he was cut off.
“Meredith?” Steve breathed out. Oh, no. Your eyes went wide for a second. You knew you looked like her but you never understood just how much.
“No. Y/N, her granddaughter” you kindly told him as you extended your hand. He didn’t react immediately but when he recollected himself, he grasped your hand in a firm but gentle handshake. For the second time in just a few moments, you felt a jolt of electricity through your body. And you were pretty sure that it was caused by his touch.
When you removed your hand, you realized that you had been staring at him as he had been staring at you all that time. If you thought that Pietro looked ravishing, Steve looked enticing, bewitching and tantalizing. He too wore a total black three-piece suit with silky shawl lapels. And his eyes… God save those eyes.
“I am sorry ma’am” he apologized and your heart melted when he called you ma’am. You always liked the old-fashioned ways, they were far more polite and … well, romantic.
“No need to. I understand” you told him sincerely. He must have been shocked to death. He smiled, obviously relaxed but very intrigued by your presence. You thought that he must have wanted to know about your grandmother but honestly, it wasn’t just that.  
“Okay, let’s leave the Capsicle to make a fool of himself, shall we? Here, dear. You’re going to need it to survive this fossil” Tony remarked, every word oozing with sarcasm, as he handed you a Millionaire Cocktail. It was basically, Rum with Gin, apricot brandy and lime juice served in a fancy glass and given its name by the Billionaire. With that, he and Pepper left; Wanda winked at you and dragged an annoyed Pietro with her but as soon as spotted Vision she left him with Clint, Nat flirted with Bruce and Thor was drinking like a mad-man with Sam.
“I have heard awfully a lot about you, Steven Grant Rogers” you lightheartedly informed him, leaning against the bar counter and tasting your drink. Surprisingly enough, it was nice. He slightly blushed. The more he was looking at you the more he spotted the differences. You were a bit taller than her. You had a fuller um… chest and more defined curves. He wanted to facepalm. He was being a perv. But he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering. You had a nice body but you had an extraordinary face. Big, captivating eyes, full, plump lips…
“All good things, right?” he joked as he took a sip of his drink. You laughed and it felt genuine. He was nice to talk to.
“Quite the opposite, really” you chuckled and your smile sent him a pleasantly warm feeling, making him smile widely. Your whole body was leaning closer and you had to hold back. He was like a magnet, even though he didn’t seem to know.
“How is-Is she…?” he trailed off, not knowing how to convey what he wanted to ask you but you got it. After all, it was only natural for him to want to know about his friend.
“She passed ten years before you wake up” you quietly told him. His face fell but he expected it. He had lost seventy years. Not seven.
“I’m sorry” he said honestly in a small voice. You smiled softly and shook your head.
“I should be the one saying that to you” you simply yet truthfully informed him. You didn’t pretend to understand what he had been through but you had your share of losses and you knew how that felt. He took in the brutal honesty of your tone and the soft gaze in your eyes and felt entranced.
“And your mother?” he asked again but regretted it when he saw you looking away from him for a second.
“She died when I was ten, in a car crash, along with my father” you admitted, hoping that he won’t realize what had truly happened. You were proven wrong. He was clever.  
His face fell and his eyes widened in disbelief.
“Bucky?” he questioned, his voice dropping an octave.
“No, no. Bucky has never hurt me or my family. That person was the Winter Soldier. It’s not the same” you firmly told him. You were aware of the whole Bucky-deal. And you truly believed that Bucky could be ‘saved’. You had been experimented on by HYDRA as well. You knew how that felt like.
He didn’t answer. You just sipped your drinks in silence, appreciating the music and trying to relax. You had had a long day and alcohol was helping. He, however, was mesmerized by your demeanor. You were sweet like Meredith but you were fierce as well, stronger in a way. It was something about you that made him want to get to know you. Not because you were her granddaughter but because he truly wanted to … befriend you? Not exactly.
The music slowed down and a lot of people-most of them, you hadn’t seen before- started dancing to the rhythm.
You were about to make yourself another drink when his voice brought you back to reality.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked shyly but seductively. At least, it was to you. You bit your bottom lip.
“I don’t know how to” you sheepishly replied and looked down as a blush was very visible.
“You don’t have to” he softly explained, taking your hand and leading you in the middle of the room. He was being bossy. In a nice way. In a very nice way.  Authority suited him.
He placed his hands around your waist, pulling you closer as you rested yours loosely around his neck. This was one of the most surreal things you had ever done. But hey, here you were, dancing with Steve Rogers, the guy your grandma liked, the guy who had woken up seventy years later, the guy who was Captain America. The guy you found so charismatic.


You had left the party after that dance. You had excused yourself because you couldn’t possibly believe that you sort of liked the same guy your grandma did. You felt guilty, even though you had done nothing wrong. Little did you know, that he felt the exact same way. He didn’t know if he had taken a liking to you because you were you or because you reminded him her.
That was three months ago. You were hanging around the Tower more often than not, training with everyone including Steve. That was weird. He would go easy on you, at first. But you had shown him that you could take a hit and throw ten more back. He used to beat your ass up but lately, he struggled and that only meant you were getting stronger.
You had talked a couple of times about a numerous of things. He asked you about Meredith, about your life and your ideas. You had told him about your powers something that you thought would freak him out but he was so kind that you felt your heart breaking. You truly liked him and he was off-limits.
You hadn’t asked much about him because you didn’t want to pry but he had found himself telling you almost everything. He hadn’t told you about his crush on your grandmother because it would just make everything so much more difficult. He didn’t want to believe that you wouldn’t like him if you had met him back then, but then again, no one did. He didn’t know this, but you had seen him in pictures, being all adorkable. It wasn’t his body that made you like him. It was a bonus but it wasn’t necessary.
You were currently in the kitchen. It was 3:26 AM. You hadn’t slept because you kept thinking about him and considering the possibilities. He probably didn’t even like you.
“You look so much like her, yet you are nothing alike” he had stated once. And you didn’t know how or what to answer, so you tried to play it cool as you replied: “I’ll take that as a compliment”. Boomerang.
“It was meant as one, ma’am”. You had to admit that whenever he was calling you ma’am you were melting. He was such a gentleman and-no… you couldn’t. Were you? You were falling for him, for fuck’s sake. God blessed America, you thought bitterly.
You were making hot cocoa with a hint of honey instead of sugar. It was something you had come up with when you were just a child. It reminded of you of serenity.
Someone was coughing, trying to make their presence known. You glanced up from your cup. Just your luck.
“What’s wrong?” he asked you, concerned. You sent him a tired smile as you shrugged it off.
“Everything’s fine” you tried to lie. You really tried but you were worse than him. He raised a questioning eyebrow. You rolled your eyes, finishing your hot cocoa and placing the mug in the sink before giving up.
“Can’t sleep” you simply told him. He furrowed his eyebrows. You were too tired for this. He didn’t answer, he just nodded his head, gesturing you to follow him. You debated with yourself. Fuck it, what could go wrong, right?
He walked all the way to his room and you were left puzzled. What was the meaning of this? Maybe, since you were tired, you couldn’t understand. Maybe you had interpreted him the wrong way. Or maybe –
He opened the door and stepped in, before he turned to you, patiently waiting. His room was bigger than yours but it wasn’t the reason you were left speechless. One of the walls was just glass. You could see everything. The city lights were spreading like lava. It was captivating. Everything seemed to be moving and to be frozen altogether. You found peace in chaos.
Slowly you stepped inside, too fascinated by the view.
“When I first… woke up, I didn’t know who I was. I wasn’t the person who I used to be, that was for sure. But then I kind of found myself in late night drives without a destination. Just driving through the city. I felt so small and I have to admit that when people look up to you and see this ‘big guy’, feeling small is actually rather appealing” he softly said as he sat down on his bed, eyes glued to the city outside.
“There is nothing prettier than a city at 5 AM with its empty streets and cold wind” you whispered but it was loud enough in the stillness of the moment. The lights were brightening up the gloomy night but they were also consumed by it. You could feel the circle of life.
“There is” he said under his breath but you heard it. You looked at him only to find his eyes fixed on you. Your heart skipped a beat. He had wooed you since the very first moment.
“She talked about you, you know” you kindly said, changing the subject and walking over to him, plopping down beside him. His face softened, a warm smile appeared on his lips.
“She would always tell me how stupidly brave you were. But the look on her face told me a different story. She liked you. I think she had a crush on you. Who would blame her?” you finally admitted. He had the right to know. His smile widened but it held a bit of sorrow. You realized why.
“You liked her too, didn’t you? Well, who could blame you? She was radiant and elegant, sweet and caring… She had this photo of you… you looked so adorkable and she would always laugh because even though you had become… this, she truly believed that you were the same stupidly brave good guy. And she was right”. You were rambling but he seemed to enjoy it. He even chuckled at the last part but then his eyes pierced yours with such intensity that you wanted to avert your gaze. You couldn’t.
“You think I was adorkable?” he questioned you and under any other circumstances it would seem playful but right now it only felt like a burning need to know. You just hummed in agreement because you truly didn’t trust your voice.
You were so close to him. His hand was resting on your knee. He smiled and you felt like you could literally die. Unfortunately, you couldn’t keep quiet.
“You’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town” you breathed out. Suddenly, you became very much aware of the proximity and the way he kept looking at you, the way he had turned his body towards you, the way his breath was falling on your lips, the way his scent was intoxicating you. You were no longer someone who was trying to save the world, you were just a person who was about to risk a friendship, to say a big ‘screw it’ to everything and just kiss the guy.
And you did.
You slowly leaned forward and paused for a second or two, giving him time to pull away. He didn’t.
When your lips touched his, you understood that to live was a beautiful way to die. It felt right. His soft lips were too gentle upon yours but they were fire. The faint taste of sugar and spice was making it too hard to break apart, even when your lungs were screaming for air.
“I am not her” you simply murmured against his lips. You felt the soft smile.
“I know” he whispered back. He knew that you weren’t her. At first, he thought he liked you because you looked like someone familiar, someone he liked but he soon realized that it wasn’t the similarity that mesmerized him. That was you. You as for who you truly were. Not you as a clone. You as the sweet and fierce woman, the shy and bold the personality that kicked in whenever you witnessed injustice. You as one of the most enthralling people he had ever met. You as his present and hopefully, his future.

Tags: @kapolisradomthoughts @nadinissavage @orionsirivsblack

Saturday’s and Weddings

Bruce Wayne X Reader

Word Count: 1438

Notes: Soul Mark Universe, where the first words spoken to you by your soul-mate appear in a random spot on your body, on your sixteenth birthday.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5


      When you agree to marry Bruce Wayne, you assure yourself that you have plenty of time. The boys don’t see it that way. Almost immediately after you say yes, you and Bruce are meeting with wedding planners that Tim has already vetted.

          You’re a bit surprised, since you only said yes yesterday, but you go with it. Strangely, Bruce seems in his element, and actually has questions prepared. You decide to just go with things. You end up going with a man who has put on quite a few weddings, and is more than ready and willing to go. You smell a rat in the air.  

          Every time you meet with the wedding planner, one of the boys is always there, if one of them can’t make it then Alfred or Bruce is there. Within the span of a month a theme is picked compete with china patterns, and color scheme.

          The next week Alfred helps you with the guest list. He has an entire book dedicated to who to invite and who NOT to invite. The second looks very similar to a little black book. You decide that you’re better off not knowing.

          Dick is the one who helps you pick the venue, also known as your very own home. He paints a picture as he describes you descending the grand staircase, in a lovely dress with a bouquet of flowers and you just can’t say no. After all, this place has history; it’s where the boys grew up, it’s where Bruce grew up, it’s where so many happy memories took place. Plus, you almost feel like Martha and Thomas Wayne can be there if you have it here.  Dick is delighted when you take him up on the suggestion, and as a bonus, there’s no deposit to put down. Invitations are sent out.

          Damian suggests opening up the doors to the ballroom and having the reception both outside and inside. Plus, it’ll give the catering service time to set up during the cocktail hour. You start to feel as though it’s the boys planning the wedding and not the very expensive wedding planner you hired. All the man seems to do is sit around and agree with your boys. You decide to let it slide as RSVP’s start rolling in.

          Jason is the one who does the food tasting with you. The boy seems to know good food better than anyone you’ve ever met, and you trust his opinion. You go through four different caterers, before Jason declares the fifth one perfect. That’s fine with you, the food tasted heavenly.

          Almost everything is done, except the dress. You do that by yourself. The wedding is in the middle of summer which means a sleeveless dress, with a sweetheart neckline. You find it at the third shop you go to. You’re worn out and almost ready to give up, but you see it and you fall in love. It’s white and covered in lace with a blue sash around the waist. The train isn’t too long, and the veil is nice and long with lace edges.

It reminds you of the little country wedding you wanted when you were a little girl. Despite your city upbringings you wanted the exact opposite of what your parents’ wedding had been. You wanted a nice little small affair, with a man you loved, and the people you cared about most surrounding you. You decide two out of three isn’t bad, and this simpler dress will add the perfect mix of that to the big day. Especially when paired with your Louis Vuitton pumps. You were still a city girl at heart after all.

With the dress in toe you return home. You do your best to sneak by the boys without them knowing, but they’re professionally trained ninjas and you don’t stand a chance. They’re like dogs going after table scraps, all trying to get the dress out of your hands and get a peak. Even Bruce is participating.

Alfred is the one to save you. He sweeps the dress out of your hands and declares that he’ll store it until the big day. With a pointed look at the men surrounding you he disappears into his quarters. Not even Bruce would go after it now. You escape before they can start hounding you for details, and decide to lay low for the next several days.

When the announcement of your wedding hits the papers you get a call from your mother. You can feel the headache coming before you even answer the phone. You’re in the middle of a family movie night, and you know if you don’t answer, it will look weird. So, you do your best to vanish from the room.

You’re gone for ten minutes before they realize you’re gone. They pause the movie and go looking for you. They find you at the dining room table, your phone is face up, and despite not having it on speaker your mother’s every word can be heard perfectly. You’re flipping through a magazine and doing your best to ignore her outrage at not being invited.

You nod a greeting at the phone before Jason just suddenly declares in a loud voice, “What a bitch.” Usually you’d reprimand him for language, but in this case he’s just right. Your mother continues on and Damian states “She’s like one of those wind up monkeys with cymbals, except she just doesn’t stop.” Tim goes next “I don’t know, her voice kind of reminds of one of those yappy dogs.” Everyone turns to Dick, waiting for his comment and he just shrugs. “I’ve got nothing but a headache from the sound of her voice.” Bending down Bruce asks “We didn’t send you parents an invitation, did we?”

You simply smile “Why do you think I got this call.” Bruce just smiles and presses the end call icon before saying “We’ll get you a new number tomorrow, for now block the number.” You simply shrug and go back to your movie.  

          After that, the wedding mayhem seems to calm down. The next several months go by in a flash and before you know it, it’s your big day. Alfred separates you and Bruce for the night, placing you in a room on the other side of the manor. You have a pretty good feeling that the boys are going to camp out with him in your room tonight, and celebrate his last night of “freedom.”

          So you’re more than a little surprised when there’s a knock on your door, you’re even more surprised to find Damian there. He’s carrying an envelope and you step to the side to allow him in. He climbs onto your bed without hesitation and you plop down beside him.

          He doesn’t talk at first, but you know it sometimes takes time with him. So you wrap your arm around his shoulders and wait. He doesn’t talk, only hands you the envelope. What’s inside melts your heart. They’re adoption papers… for Damian. “Father got Talia to sign them. All you have to do is sign where the arrow is… if you want to that is.”

          You drop the papers and pull him into a bone crushing hug. “I want nothing more in the world.” you assure him, and then say “Got a pen?”

          He pulls one out of his robe pocket and the door creaks open, as the rest of the boys appear with their own envelops in hand. They’re all too old to fall under your parental guardianship, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still adopt them. You sign a flurry of papers that night, before they return to Bruce.

          The next day you get ready with the help of Barbara, Cass, and Stephanie. You’re just about ready to head down the aisle when Alfred arrives with a velvet box. The girls go to stand at the ready while Alfred waits for you to open the box. Inside is a beautiful strand of pearls. “From Master Bruce, it’s tradition for Wayne men to give their brides-to-be pearls on the wedding day.” he explains as he moves to fasten them for you.

          You smile at the the reflection of you two in the mirror. Then you grab your phone to capture the moment with the butler who has become like a father to you over the past two years. He obliges you, even smiling for the picture, before offering his arm as you hear the start of the wedding march. Silently you take his arm and he walks you down the aisle.

I’m sorry but when Taako shoved his soul out of his body to save Magnus, and Magnus finally saw Taako as he dragged him out of there, he saw some real oldschool shoujo manga shit.  Taako was beautiful and etherial as all fuckin get out.  His hair was gently floating around him.  There were floating bubbles and sparkles and all of that.  Probably flowing fabric and strands of pearls and crystals and whatever.  (please imagine them connecting to Taako’s real body because that would be super rad.)

Magnus got saved from a terrifying void-y tar pit by the most beautiful and etherial version of Taako’s soul, because it was the part of Taako’s soul powered by love.  And it was fucking gorgeous.