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greenorangevioletgrass · 4 months

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fever pitch (b.b.) - part one

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soundtrack: bewitched - laufeypairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!readersynopsis: you and Bradley find a secret garden and get acquainted... or maybe you already have?warnings: language, tension, fluff, angst but hypothetical?? idk, bradley is a dreamboat but what else is newnotes: the saga continues! i had a whole outline planned out, but then as i wrote it, it turned into a beast of its own and honestly, im just an employee here 🤷‍♀️ happy reading, and please let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, and asks! i would love love loveeee to hear it from you <3

✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

“Are we even allowed in here?”

You and Bradley turn a corner from the club area into a narrow hallway. There’s a door that leads outside, thanks to the little glass pane, you can see a little terrace situation outside. Bradley tries the doorknob… and it opens.

“I mean, there’s no sign that says we can’t…” Bradley shrugs, offering his hand to guide you in.

Like Alice in Wonderland, you step into a formal English garden in the heart of this complex of townhouses-turned-clubhouse. In the middle of the bricks and noises of the city, there are beds of roses and manicured hedges and ravines over a stone arch. It’s small, but very intentional even with the mosses growing on the edges of the fountain in the middle. A Dionysus statue sits atop the fountain, as if pouring wine instead of water. A nice touch to celebrate festivities.

“Wow. This is straight out of the old movies we talked about.” You marvel at your surroundings. “Like… The Sound of Music or something.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, exactly.”

Bradley starts humming My Favorite Things as you stroll your separate ways around the garden, marveling at the evergreen shrubs and colorful perennials. You eventually meet each other again right in front of the Dionysus statue. It feels like a sign from the universe for him, so he asks,

“May I have this dance?"

He can't be real, can he? "Like a 'dance' dance?"

"Absolutely." He says it with such conviction that it's easy to forget that the deafening, thumping electronic music from the club is completely shut out from your little pocket of a park. And the only semblance of music you can hear is the rustling of leaves, the trickling of water, and the fluttering memories of Bradley's velvety tone.

So you take his hand. He pulls you in and leads you into a slow dance. You were expecting to just sway, this is surreal enough as it is, but as you dance around the fountain, you slowly notice… the slow and simple rhythm, the unmistakable one-two-three, one-two-three count… This is a waltz step.

“You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“I try my best.” In a swift movement, he twirls you away and reels you back in with a spin. He just prays to God or whoever is listening that you can’t actually feel his racing heart as he holds your back flush against his chest.

(You can’t. You’re too busy calming your own.)

“So… you and your friends celebrating the success at Wembley?”

His voice tickles the back of your neck, and this sudden closeness is too much for you to bear. You strategically turn around so you’re facing him again. “Oh, no. This is just my night off. I still have… three shows left here.”

“So how long will you be in town for?”

“Another week.”

“And after that…?”

“Paris.”

“Right…” he nods. “And home is in… Los Angeles?”

The question catches you off-guard for some reason. You know he’s probably just asking where you live, but something about the way he asks it makes it sound like he’s asking about… ‘home’ home. “Technically, yes.”

He makes a face. That’s a strange answer… “What do you mean, technically? I’m sure you must have at least one home base somewhere, right?”

“I do, yeah.” You smile sheepishly. “LA is my home base. But… it’s not like I have any emotional attachment to the city or anything.”

“Where’s that, then, if not LA?”

You give it a good thought… but you got nothing. “I don’t know. Ask me tomorrow.” Maybe it’s the romance of the setting—although his warm hazel eyes play a crucial role too— it makes you feel more inclined to be more honest than you usually do.

Bradley smiles. He’s so fascinated by you, but at the same time, he has an inkling that he might need to solve a few puzzles himself before you let him in. And he would gladly take his time to get there.

At the same time, slow-dancing to a hummed classic with this man away from a modern-day nightclub… It makes you wonder what kind of person he is. “And you? You’re an American in London. Where’s home for you?”

“Well, I think Virginia will always be home, but this place has really grown on me. I’ve been here for most of my adult life, and this city, the team, the people… I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

“Virginia, huh?” you smirk—imagining him growing up near the water, a sunkissed teenage boy shooting the shit with his friends.

“Yes, ma’am. Born and raised.”

It’s only at this moment that Bradley is so much like this garden. Seemingly out of place, frozen in time while the world moves all too fast around it. But at the same time, perfectly placed, a calm in the eye of the storm. Just for this little pocket of a park.

Just for you.

“Are you normally this… Southern gentlemanly? With the suit and the sweet disposition and the waltz…”

“Honestly? Not really.” He admits bashfully. “But, I don’t know. I feel like I’m in another era with you right now.”

“Oh?”

Bradley doesn’t elaborate right away. Instead, he asks you, "Do you believe in past lives?"

Your face lights up, and he knows he just asked the right question. "I don’t know. Do you?”

"A little…" he nods, thoughtful. "Maybe not in a religious sense where you die, you get judged, and then come back as a... worm or whatever. But.. I kinda like the idea that... no one is ever really a stranger, you know? That our paths have crossed at some point."

"And you're saying we've met before?"

"Oh, yeah." Again with the conviction, this motherfucker.

“Really?” You step away from him, entering a more cerebral dance than the one that you just swayed into. Your fingers barely touch the surface of the water on the fountain, and ripples it over as you walk by. "Where do you suppose we have met before?"

He looks up at the sky, moving clouds and all, pondering his answer. "I was thinking the 40’s and 50's—you know, the Golden Age. But I think it's a little earlier than that, don't you think?"

"Like... the Roaring Twenties?"

“Yes!”

His enthusiasm amuses and fascinates you endlessly, and you never needed much to fuel your active imagination anyway. "I like that. I can see you as... a former pilot who fought in World War I. And then went on to become a poet. Or a pianist."

"I think I'm better off as a pianist.” He’s not very good with words—he’s much better plunking the ivories to get the party going.

"Fair, fair. A jazz… pianist, maybe?"

"Ooh, interesting." Bradley smiles, picturing it in his head. "And what would you be?”

"I don't know. You tell me." You lean back against the stone arch, looking at him expectantly. His answer will determine how he sees you and thus, how you feel about him. And you want him desperately to have a good answer.

"I wanna say... the starlet, or the mysterious singer—"

"Oh, come on. Even in my past life, I'm still a singer? Can't I be something else?” You groan in protest.

He chuckles, settling right across from you. "Okay, okay..." he looks at you deeply, pensively for a moment. "You're one of those socialites, who drank martinis and danced the Charleston until morning."

"Makes sense. I do love martini... and the Charleston."

"Right? You'd be one of those girls who rebelled against daddy dearest and partied all night, maybe broke a few hearts along the way."

"Including yours?"

“I don't know. You tell me."

Now it's your turn to pause and take a good look at him. You try to picture it; how boisterous and bright he must be, getting the party going by playing ragtime or samba. And you try to picture toying with his feelings; those irresistible hazel eyes watching you longingly across the room as you give some random man time of day for no other reason but to spark his jealousy...

"Nah. I think yours is the only one I didn't break. Not on purpose, at least,” you conclude definitively. The thought of leaning over the piano, sipping on cocktails while he croons out some love ditty—or sitting on his lap while he teaches you a Christmas tune at a holiday party seems way more appealing.

"What do you mean?”

"Well, you said so yourself about daddy dearest. He wanted me to marry one of his business associates, an heir to a shipping company or something.” You cheekily stroll past him, down the little path towards the fountain again.

Bradley smiles knowingly, just a step behind you. "Ah. And I'm just a lowly little pianist. What chance did we have, huh?"

You halt your steps and turn around to face him, a mischievous smirk on your face. "Would you have fought for me?"

To your surprise, he meets your gaze with a soft, unwavering look. "Without a doubt. I would have stood up to your father and told him that we were meant to be together, come hell or high water."

The phrase echoes in your head. Come hell or high water. It’s so loud, it sends you reeling and you had to sit down on the edge of the fountain. Suddenly the image of a screaming match flashes so clearly in your mind. Bradley's hand gripping years for dear life. The shallow sobs under the suffocating constrict of your dress. The tears blurring the sight of him leaving…

“But it didn't work, did it…”

He doesn't hear a question in your words —it sounds like a statement. And Bradley, ever the hopeless romantic, wants to say no. Of course it worked out, it had to. Maybe you ran away with him and lived a life of simple means. But it wouldn't have mattered, because it would've been full of music and dancing and love.

But the heartbreak in your eyes is so palpable, so...real. For a moment, it felt like the two of you actually lived it. You were just retracing the forgotten steps now.

"No.” He shakes his head softly, sitting next to you. "We tried. We fought, but... we lost.”

You know that, but it hurts to hear it anyway. Still, you can't help but continue the story. "I think I ended up marrying the businessman, do the right thing for my family. And let you go... play your music in Paris or something. Chase your dreams."

The life he imagined. Of simple means and abundant music... just no you. "I would have written so many songs about you..." he chuckles wistfully. As painful as it would've been to keep picking at old wounds, at least he would still have you in his life.

"I think I would've found your record eventually,” You pipe up, partly in self-consolation. Sure, it might be a stretch, but you're way beyond caring. You needed a piece of him, too. "And I would put it on every time I missed you. Which was every night."

The night is so still, even the leaves seem to give you a moment of privacy. Your little fingers barely touch on the edge of the bench as you sit and grieve for a tragic love story that never happened.

Eventually, though, you take a deep breath and break the silence. "Fuck. I could write a whole album based on that."

Bradley laughs at your sudden interruption, glad that you snapped him out of his reverie and brought him back to reality. "Yeah? I would be happy to help you brainstorm."

You throw him a look. It feels weird to return to this point of acquaintance after feeling like you’ve gone through lifetimes with him. But you’re glad to start anew in this life. "Is that your roundabout way of saying you wanna keep seeing me?"

"Maybe. Is it working?"

"I don't know. I don’t do maybe’s. You should ask me for real.”

Holy fuck. He closes his eyes for a moment as his heart skips. You always seem to keep him on his toes, do you? "Alright. Can I see you again? Maybe take you out to dinner?"

"I would like that. Does tomorrow night work for you?"

"Perfect." he beams at you. Fuck playing it cool, he just won himself a date with you.

"We should swap numbers so we can figure out the details.” You reach into your purse to grab your phone. And then, something dawns on you, making you smirk devilishly at him, "You wanna put your number in, or would you rather give me that friendship bracelet I heard you made for me?"

Bradley stops dead in his tracks. Of course that public declaration was gonna bite him in the ass. He was doing so well, dancing and talking and making an actual connection with you...gosh, he must've looked stupid right now. "You knew about that?" He grimaces.

"Of course. I have eyes and ears everywhere, " you sling coyly, letting him punch his numbers into your phone with great embarrassment. "That, and Natasha might have sent me a post on Instagram.”

He sighs in defeat as he hands your phone back. "Goddamn it, Natasha…"

#oooo wonder how their real first date is gonna be like!#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #footballer!bradley #footballer!bradley x popstar!reader #top gun imagine #top gun au #ava writes #fever pitch

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mannaima · 1 year

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Small thirst bc I’m watching lectures and my brain can’t focus.

(pre outbreak! Joel miller x reader)

tw stalking, noncon, exhibitionism, scumbag Joel

You were hunched over your yard, picking out the weeds. It was a warmer Texas day, still hot, but the best day out of the weak to get some yard work done without having a heat stroke. You wore a pretty sundress, little flowers spread all over, a cute design. You, of course, wore shorts under your dress, much to your watching neighbors’ dismay.

Joel was watching you through his window, curtains pulled away just slightly. He had the first day off in a while, Sarah was at school and he was enjoying the free show he got. His cock was incredibly hard in his jeans, how he wished you took off those shorts and showed him your pretty pussy. You wiped the sweat from your forehead, god, you were gorgeous. He unbuttoned his jeans and let out his cock, throbbing for any stimulation. He shook his head, allowing a rational thought to pop in.

Why would he jerk off to you, when he could just have you?

He quickly put his cock away, making sure he looked presentable before he left his house and walked over to you.

“Hey neighbor!” His southern drawl made you turn over, a smile forming on your face.

“Oh hello Joel! Nice to see you! What brings ya’ here?” You bent back up, smiling as you smacked the dirt off your gloves.

“Was just gonna ask if you needed any help.” Joel has a small smile on his face, arms crossing.

“Oh thank you Joel, but I’m alright! Just gotta finish gettin’ all the weeds out the way, then gotta fix up the shrubs.”

“Let me help you with that, please? Feel bad watching a pretty thing like you work in this heat.” You smiled and playful waved him off.

“I’m a big girl Joel, don’t worry ‘bout me!” Joel gave you a look though, one that basically said “really?” You rolled your eyes, a grin still on your face.

“Oh, alright! You can help me with the shrubs. Follow me, I’ll get you the hedge clippers from the shed.” You went around the side of your home, Joel following behind you. His cock grew once again watching the way your ass moved under the thin material of the dress, with every step. He muttered a small ‘fuck’ as he watched you moved. Now or never.

You had begun to open the shed door, but it was quickly shut by Joel’s large hand reaching over you. You didn’t get much reaction time before Joel’s hand covered your mouth, making you yell against his hand slightly.

“Fuckin’ teasing me all day. Showing off your body in that tiny little dress. You wanted this, didn’t you?” As much as you shook your head, Joel didn’t seem to care. He started to quickly remove your shorts under your dress, removing your panties in the process. You kept squirming against him, trying to get him off you, but he was so strong compared to you.

“Thought you were a big girl, huh? Fight back baby, c’mon.” You kept thrashing against him, but his hand that removed your panties began rubbing against your entrance from behind. You stopped all movement in shock, you felt so scared. You kept yelling for him to stop, the cries muffled behind his hand.

“I can’t wait to fuck your pretty pussy. Been dreaming about this since the day you moved in.” He started to rustle around behind you, and when you heard a belt click, it wasn’t hard to guess what he was doing. You shook your head and tried moving away, but his hand was firm on your hip, the other arm was holding you close to him.

He slowly began to insert his cock, a burning sensation filling you up. You cried out, the pain too much to take in at once. He shushed you, head leaning into your body as he kept furthering his cock inside you.

“You’re so fucking tight baby. Tight little slut.” With the last word, he had bottomed out. You felt so full, twitching slightly at the way he made your walls feel. His cock was clamped around your tight walls, he could feel you tighten up with every sniffle, every sob you let out. He was addicted to the way your pussy felt. He pulled out slightly, and pushed back in. He swore he could already cum by how nice you felt around his cock.

“You like my big fat dick? You like the way I fuck you?” He whispered in your ear, kissing the shell of it in the process, his hips thrusting harshly into you. You kept saying muffled words into his hand, a small amount of drool forming. Joel looked down to see your eyes rolled back— you were enjoying this.

He loved seeing you fucked out, his body pinning yours to the wall of the shed, cock disappearing in and out of you at a fast pace. You started to make sounds of pleasure under his hand. As much as he wanted to hear them clearly, he didn’t want to risk you screaming if he moved his hand. So he kept fucking you at such a pace, he was already close. He gave you a few more sloppy thrusts before bottoming out, cumming deep inside you. You let out a broken moan, squeezing your pussy around his throbbing cock. After about a minute, Joel pulled out of you. He moved his hand away as well.

“You liked that baby?” He kissed your cheek, which was wet with tears. He smirked and kissed you again.

“C’mon, let’s go to my place, Sarah won’t be back for a few hours. Let’s get to know each other, neighbor.”

#dark joel miller #joel miller the last of us #dark! joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #dark! joel miller x reader #tlou #scumbag joel?????#tw noncon

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couchtaro · 1 year

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Theseus

Theseus, scarecrow oath of the watchers paladin and shepherd of souls, belongs to @eaudecrow

Flowers

Asphodel (Asphodelus): the land of spirits. In Greek mythology, a field of asphodels in the underworld was the dwelling place of neutral souls.

Dame Violet (Hesperis matronalis): watchfulness

Black bindweed (Dioscorea communis): support

Boxwood (Buxus): Constancy in friendship. Labyrinthine hedge mazes are traditionally made of boxwood shrubs.

Rattlesnake root ( Prenanthes purpurea): protection, shield, guarded steps. This plant was thought to grant protection from being caught up in a group of supposed to “friends” who are in actuality threatening and dangerous.

Heath (Epacris impressa): solitude

Witch hazel (Hamamelis virginiana): a spell is on me.

Straw: constancy. Broken straw: broken contract, trouble.

Corn poppy (Papaver rhoeas): good and evil, light and darkness, life and death, fun-loving, avoidance of problems, oblivion. The ancient Greeks believed that corn would not grow without poppies growing nearby. In Greek and Roman myths, poppies were used as offerings to the dead and in modern times are often a motif found on tombstones. Poppies are some of the first flowers to fill holes in disturbed ground, so old battlefields often fill with poppy.

Giant milkweed (Calotropis procera): purposelessness, a monstrosity

Check out the rest of the Pringles Party!

Yancy | Izen | Phaela | “Red”

#planar Pringles #floriography #dnd character #dnd pc #dnd character portrait #dungeons and dragons #language of flowers #warforged #paladin #You know what I love? Flowers! Symbolic character portraits! D&D!! Furiously committing to ambitious passion projects!#and thus here we are #if I do not post this now I will forget Again #Hay Boy 10 hour version plays (it’s me hitting play every minute)#MOST beloved and important scarecrow OF all time and history. fascinates me #my art #Pringles #Theseus #Theseus Pringles #the tumblrinas get the sparknotes and not the full essay interpretation. unless they ask really niceys and Crow says it’s okay

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cleolinda · 3 months

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I’m fine (knock on wood). Mostly we’re just battling to be sure the pipes don’t freeze. We’re supposed to hit THE coldest temps around sunrise tomorrow—11-13°F, the forecast fluctuates. I’m worried that our plants (especially the hedge and azalea shrubs that we can’t, like, move indoors) won’t make it. We did lose a few in last year’s hard freeze, although all my herbs came back.

The snow is a just crunchy layer on the deck at this point; it’s melted off the roofs and yards on my street, although I still see flurries now and then. I’m in central Alabama, so I’m not in the seven-inch drifts further north. Again, I’m mostly worried about hard freeze damage and ice. I��m hoping they’ll close the schools tomorrow as well.

#winter 2024 #alabama

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hippolotamus · 5 months

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Tease Tidbit Tuesday 🐎

a snippet of come close (let me be home) for Wolf, Em and Ryan (prev snippet here)

Evan sneers at the thought of that monster, pushing his mare to keep up her canter. He blinks away tears stinging the corners of his eyes and can only revel in the hope that Maddie’s late husband is being tortured in the afterlife.

He’s so lost in thought he nearly misses the other rider ahead. A rider who has apparently stopped.

The man’s tense body language suggests he’s listening for something. Maybe someone?

As Evan closes in he can only see the back of him at first. The dark brown hair, solid build, annoyingly proper jacket and boots pulled over what may be very muscular calves.

“Alright, now,” he murmurs softly in the mare's ear. “Wanna show me what you can do?”

Evan flies past the other man in a blur, hears him call out. He turns to sneak a look, barely able to make out rough features like the square jaw and dark eyes. From what he can tell, the man is rather handsome, but that is a desire for another day. Evan curls his lips in a playful smile, an offering he’ll leave behind to be remembered by.

Regretfully, he forces his gaze ahead again, away from the handsome stranger and toward the open stretch of grassy fields.

For some reason the other man chooses to pursue him, continuing to yell. It’s getting rather annoying, if Evan’s being honest. They’re two strangers in nature, no need to get all in a huff about it. But he plays along, leading them across the foggy ground. The man keeps a decent pace, even if he can’t catch up. It is nice. It’s been ages since Evan’s had any true competition.

Up ahead he spots a clump of hedges. They’re fairly low, nothing he shouldn’t be able to handle.

“Well, I guess there’s only one way of losing him. Huh, girl?”

Evan tightens his thighs around the saddle as his mare barrels toward the shrubs. He takes a deep breath, bracing himself as she jumps, feeling the uninhibited power beneath him from the moment her front hooves leave the ground. When she gracefully lands cleanly on the other side, he smiles to himself at the confirmation of his initial assessment that she was a solid and capable choice.

“Good girl. You did well.” He strokes her mane and gently pats her neck as he eases her back to a slow trot.

Evan looks back to see the stranger stopped once more. The man bows his head, an impressed, amused smile on his face that Evan would really like to see again. He flashes a gleaming grin in return before continuing on his way.

It’s a shame, he thinks, that they’ll never get to meet.

tagged by @callmenewbie @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @wikiangela @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @thewolvesof1998

no pressure tagging @steadfastsaturnsrings @weewootruck @malewifediaz @disasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @thekristen999 @loserdiaz @heartshapedvows @spotsandsocks @underwater-ninja-13 @fortheloveofbuddie @eowon @jesuisici33 @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @stereopticons @elvensorceress @spagheddiediaz @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @buddierights @911onabc @the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @pirrusstuff @messyhairdiaz @gayedmundodiaz @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @evaneds @maygrantgf @lemonzestywrites @buckbuckgoose @statueinthestone

#yeah… too bad they’ll never ever see each other again 😏#buddie wip #fic: come close (let me be home) bridgerton #hippo writes

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itsgrimeytime · 9 months

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Magnolia in May (Part Ten) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9...

Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @belaballs @curlycarley

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TWS: infidelity, child abandonment, heartbreak, mentioned family dissolution, parentification (child becoming a parental figure) and betrayal.

[[A/N: Banter!!! And also, can you tell that I'm a child of divorce ??? Actually helped me write this so anyway- I'm not sure how I like this chapter but I think it's what it needs to be. Thanks for reading :))) ]]

The morning was a rather sunny one, the sort that made you wish your dresses were lighter in fabric. Your Headmistress had urged you to wear a hat to protect your eyes -so you'd done so. It was the same color as your dress and had the same sort of embellishments of lace and detailed ribbon, all coordinated.

Even within the carriage (that Mr. Grimes had requested you ride in 'I refuse to chance you having any more illness, Ms. Greene.') the air was rather heavy with humidity. Velvety sort of fabric underneath you -still felt quite offensive to sit on, and the detailing of the carriage seemed extensive. All wood carvings seemed to almost be the work of a hand -detailed beyond what you could truly comprehend.

If you weren't so antsy to see the man, you would've tried a little harder to digest some of the work.

You truly hadn't even noticed you'd stopped moving.

Mr. Dixon spoke, pulling open the door with practiced ease, "Ms. Greene, welcome to the Grimes Alexandrian Estate."

You shook your head, gathering your thoughts and taking his hand to step out onto the courtyard -it was in yet another light this time. The beautifully shining sun of the early morning set a sort of liveliness to the area -shrubs a beautiful green and the gentle trickle of fountains welcomed on your ears. It was how it was to be viewed, you supposed.

Not as gloomy as the rainy, cloudy turmoil, or as static as the night of the ball -a rather electric sort of energy of all those there, excitement and crowds of those who wished to dance the night away. It was only filled with a few faces this morning, trimming some of the hedges and tending to a few of the extra plants. You'd found something wonderful about seeing the estate so natural despite it being such a normal day -it continued to be breathtaking.

You were lost in the effect, standing there rather aimlessly, and you supposed that was why he'd snuck up on you.

"Ms. Greene."

You startled, just slightly, as you settled upon him. He was much how he was the night before -dirted sleeves and hair askew, you'd assumed he'd been working out here. Perhaps it was a hobby of his?

"Mr. Grimes," you echoed, a little breathless -as you were nearly any time you saw him, eyes trailing to the dirt upon his sleeves, "-busy, are you?"

"Right," he spoke -eyes trailing to his own sleeves, almost in embarrassment, "-you'll have to forgive my matter of dress, I was workin' on my garden-"

"Your garden?" You questioned, rather genuinely with a smile split across your face -near giddy that you spoke to him, "-And no need, it suits you well."

"You're much too kind, Ms. Greene," he hummed, a little bashful -you found it rather sweet, "-but yes, my garden. I find it relaxing after such work days, my Mother... She cared for it intently. I share such passions."

"If you wish to," you started -hesitantly, as it seemed such a personal endeavor, "-I shall be delighted to see it one day."

Mr. Grimes stalled for a moment before a rather fond look flickered over his face -one that ever so often raised the crimson to your cheeks, "'At would be lovely. Perhaps later? The evenin' light is terrific for such viewin'."

"Oh," you smiled, rather teasingly, "-I suppose I shall see."

"Are ya to be a harsh critic, then?"

"Only if you want me to be, Mr. Grimes," you replied, as he guided you up the stairs and to the door. Always linked by the arm, your head merely swam at such closeness, "- do you treat all such guests to such pleasantries? Leading them up the stairs at your expense?"

He grinned, a bit of laughter dancing upon his tongue -you'd nearly grinned brighter at the sound, "Certainly not."

"Oh really," you responded -tone exaggerated, "-so I'm a special case, am I?"

Mr. Grimes hummed -a sort of fondness in his voice that made his accent seem ever more prominent, "Rightly so."

"You-" you flustered, still gently attached at the side, "You are too good at such things."

"What things?" He asked -curiously, but there was something gleaming in his eye, something rather playful.

"Flattery," you answered -rather promptly, "-you speak it so fluidly."

"Only for you," he urged, turning his attention fully to you, "-you must kno', it's only for you."

"Mr. Grimes..."

"Shall we head in?" He hummed -eyes still on you rather fondly, "-We have much to speak of."

You hummed, squeezing your hand against his arm -comforting, "Okay."

It was still wonderful to see, despite you being here frequently. All the paintings of wondrous detail -you could nearly see each paint stroke, and part of you wondered just how long it would take to craft such a thing. You'd wished to have your own one day but the expense was far too wide for it to be realistic.

"The paintings," you started, low tone echoing in the empty entry, "-Do you commission them often?"

"No," he started -slow steps in tune with yours as he looked upon the paintings, "-I request 'em upon special occasion."

"Such as?"

Mr. Grimes paused for a moment, before guiding you to the opposite end of the hall -a painting as large as the family portrait you'd seen on a much less happy day. It detailed what you realized to be a very young Judith -wrapped in a blush sort of blanket, pinky red of her cheeks as she slept away. It reminded you of a young Beth, all wonderous blonde curls -you'd mostly seen the girl in photographs, but Judith looked nearly identical to so. She wasn't alone, instead was held tightly by what you recognized to be his son whom you had yet to meet. He looked starkly like his father, it made you wonder if he acted as such.

"When Judith was born," he confirmed, in a wistful sort of voice -he cared for his children, it was rather endearing. It always had been, even upon when you met him -Judith's behavior spoke volumes of the man.

"That's your son?" you asked.

"Carl," Mr. Grimes clarified, "-I'd wish for ya to meet if you weren't opposed."

"I'd be rather delighted to."

He merely smiled brighter at you, the kind that crinkled by his eyes -it always pleased you to see. And as you looked upon the family portrait where he seemed rather solemn, you found you much preferred the Mr. Grimes at your side. Happy, smiling-

He led you down a selection of hallways, each a touch more ravishing than the last -shining vases and detailed trim. It wasn't exactly a printed sort of wallpaper, just rather a vivid sort of color -not to distract from the paintings across the walls. A sort of elegant simplicity.

"Would you mind steppin' in my office to talk? Mr. Dixon shall remain at the door for proper etiquette."

"Wherever you wish," you spoke, softer than you intended but you found you were rather fond of him.

And as you entered the office, you stared at the rather extensive bookshelves and large window facing out into the backyard. It was framed beautifully so, all white wooden trim. You were drawn to the sight, beautiful pastures of flowing green grass. Right in the center sat his kids, enraptured in some sort of game -Carl intently swinging a few dolls around as if he was performing. Under the watchful eye of some staff, of course.

You smiled, trailing your fingers over the glass, "They seem to be enjoying themselves out there. Is it often they play together?"

Mr. Grimes followed you to the sight, a sort of hazy smile rattling across his face, "Very often, Carl has adapted well. I'm very proud of 'im, really."

"That is something quite special, I remember when I was young-" you laughed lightly -memories flashing behind your eyes, "-Maggie nearly trailed around me for years, I was told that I was rather frustrated."

"Really?"

"Oh yes," you relented, turning your attention to him, "-it's an ordeal losing a parent's attention in any capacity, Mr. Grimes. Even further when someone starts to follow you around and take your things-"

He laughed, a sort of bright twinkle, "When ya say it like 'at, I'd find I'd be upset myself."

"As you should."

Mr. Grimes laughed even louder, your heart squeezing in your chest at being the cause of such a noise. I shall wish to never be without it-

"I know-" he started -hollowing out from the laughter to something more serious, perhaps what he wished to tell you, "-I know it was difficult for 'im. When... When she was pregnant."

You hummed, turning all your attention to him -listening, "How so? Perhaps, I could help explain as... as an eldest myself."

He paused, eyed trailing along his children out the window, "The typical things, just- Just not bein' the only one, I suppose."

"It's difficult to come to terms with," you spoke -rather heavy with intent.

You loved your sisters, dearly, but you'd often realized that you became quite an adult rather quickly. It was less of their fault, though, and more evident of the situation. A sick mother and an overworked father, you slotted in to help where you could.

You imagined Carl in the situation you'd only known from rumors. Without a mother, a rather heartbroken father, and a younger sister to care for. It rang rather true to you.

"Lori-" he interrupted your thoughts, seeming to slowly speak through his thought process, "-Lori left after Judith was born. I... I knew what had happened by then, I knew what... what she intended-"

You moved without thinking, extending your hand to turn his face towards you -skin upon his own. It was improper, and you knew so, but something in you urged to comfort him -to aid him somehow-

"It doesn't mean you were ready for her to leave."

Mr. Grimes was silent then, blue eyes intently focused on you -perhaps surprised by such contact, but not... not unnerved, you could see. He merely stalled for a moment, you held your breath -nervous, truly. You hadn't been thinking-

Then, he leaned into your hand. Skin touching in a sort of delicate way as if it soothed him -as if you could do so. Something in your stomach flipped at the idea, a wondrous sort of buzz detailing under your skin -love, love, love rattling in your chest.

"I can't imagine what you went through," you spoke, thumb brushing lightly against his cheekbone, "-at all. But I... I'd like to listen. If you wish to tell."

He sighed, a rumble against your skin, as his blue, blue, blue eyes settled across your face -a touch cloudier than before, "I do. I... I want ya to know everythin', Ms. Greene, everythin'."

"Okay," you whispered -rather teary yourself.

With a shaky breath, he guided you to a seat -cushioned, against the wall next to the window. It was nearly as velvety as the carriage interior, but you couldn't find your focus on its texture. You stared rather intently at Mr. Grimes, eager to listen, to soothe-

"I suppose I'm jus' not sure where to start," he spoke, hand wiping away at his eyes -you wished to do it yourself, honestly but has to control the urges.

You responded, tone rather balanced, "Perhaps at the beginning? With... with Lori?"

He hummed -thinking on it maybe, before deciding, "I believe I should start earlier. My... My childhood."

"As long as you're certain," you remanded, tone unshaken, stable.

"I am, very," he responded without hesitancy, you were sure to search for it, "-Ms. Greene I always fully intended to tell you everythin' and let you decide. There's no hesitation on my part."

"This is..." you paused, "-Your childhood is a part of the explanation?"

"It is, rather-" he hummed, "-I wish to tell ya of an old friend of mine."

You'd assumed so, rumors swirling in your head but found you'd only wished to hear it from here. From him. It was one thing to know it from whispers and entirely another from the direct source -from someone so dear to you. And yet, you wanted him to know you'd heard it -in whatever capacity, "Mr. Walsh."

"We grew up together," he spoke -a sort of bittersweet note in his tone that made you wish to soothe, "-I remember we used to help out in the yard, workin'. My father never made it easy for me, probably why I like workin' outside so much these days."

You thought for a moment, merely watching him for a moment. Before linking your hand to his arm -as if he'd been walking with you, fingertips just above the crease of the elbow and roaming closer to his side. And perhaps it was improper, but you wished to support him.

"We planned to attend the same schools, live in the same city, it was all rather planned out. When I met Lori..." he responded -echoing a sort of hollow note, "-he seemed to believe I had left him behind."

Mr. Grimes echoed, a little watery, "I knew, I knew... he wished to have a family. Be married, have children... I suppose he thought I stole it from him."

"You must know that you didn't," you soothed, "-your life did not indicate his-"

"I do, I kno'," he exhaled, and something in his voice shook, "-I jus' tried so desperately to explain his actions. To explain... what happened."

"Mr. Grimes," you urged, "-if you're not comfortable, I request-"

"Before Lori left," he continued -a little aimlessly but heavier in tone, "-She became pregnant."

"I cannot imagine the turmoil of something so happy to something so-"

"Ms. Greene," his tone leveled, almost as if he was begging -holding your hands together before you, "-I must request what I say subsequent stays between the parties in this room."

"Of course," you spoke -confident, "-I'd never dream of speaking to something that wasn't mine to share."

"I wouldn't truly mind if it only affected me," he clarified, "-as someone with a fortune, you become to expect some things. But this-"

"Mr. Grimes," you tilted to match his eyes, "-I would never betray your trust so. If you wish it, I shall take it to the grave."

He paused, blue eyes bright smoothing over your face in a rather hazy sort of glance -as if he couldn't quite believe what you were saying, "Thank you, Ms. Greene. I-"

"No need," you hummed -soft and delicate, "-I suppose I'd be rather disingenuous if I were to say I love you and expect anything from you for it."

"Ms. Greene-"

"Later," you knew what he wished to speak of, it wasn't the proper time, "-there are more pressing matters that we must address first, okay?"

It bubbled up from his chest as if the words had been waiting -had he never spoken of this? A sort of eruption along his lips, you could almost feel the relief from the breath of the words. It hadn't meant that you had expected them, however.

"Judith... She's-" he moved through them slowly -as if it hurt, "-She's not mine."

#rick grimes #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #twd #twd rick #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot #magnolia in may

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nd-of-a-manatee · 1 year

Text

Brambles pt. 1

Pls read this for context first

[ID:

(This description is a text adaptation of a comic. Some descriptions have been tailored to fit the change in medium.)

It’s night.

The Motherlobe looms black in the dark blue sky among the trees in the quarry of Psychonauts HQ. The center window of the brain-shaped building is illuminated with pale yellow light. Inside that window, the silhouettes of Truman Zanotto–the Grand head of the Psychonauts–and an unknown female figure argue with each other as word bubbles clutter the space above them. Far below, Lili Zanotto (in her early teens) escapes the building out a side entrance and hops across hovering platforms over the lake at the bottom of the quarry. She’s wearing a blue sweater, black pants, red and white sneakers, and her brown hair tied in long low pigtails.

She steps off the last platform onto a grassy rock formation. The top of the formation used to be where her secret garden grew. It’s now empty, with a hole in the ground where the willow tree used to be. Lili hops easily past the site and uses a squiggle of levitation to clear a gap in the boulders that structure the hillside.

Lili walks on through the forest alone, hands in pockets. Giant moonlit pine trees and bushes surround her as she makes her way along an unclear path. When she reaches her destination, she looks ahead with weary irritation. Her reddish eyeshadow is purple in the low light, making her look even more tired. She has a new garden–filled with many varieties of plants, sectioned by a hedge down the center, surrounded by smooth stones, and crowned with three willows of varying height that huddle beneath a cluster of vertical cylindrical rocks that push together as if to cradle them. The whole place is covered in ropey green thorny weeds.

“Ugh. Again?” she groans.

She starts trying to pull the vines away from a nearby flowering shrub, but they’re stubborn and bite her through her fingerless black gloves. Her sixth sense suddenly gets her attention (represented with magenta lines that emanate from her head). She turns around and sees a rail-thin figure posed atop one of the stone stacks, backlit against the half moon hanging in the sky behind it. The figure is boyish and short with awkwardly long legs, upside down with one hand supporting it, the other behind his back, and both legs straight up in the air. A familiar brown helmet and red goggles make its head look bigger than it should be.

Lili, smiling, responds with telepathy.

<Hey, tree-sitter. What’re you doing here?>

Her friend and partner, Razputin, lifts his head and looks down at her through all the red hair sticking out of his helmet. He responds warmly through orange psychic waves.

<Psh. I bet the whole county heard it,> Lili adds huffily. She glances away at nothing in particular.

<Definitely could from Sasha’s lab,> Raz admits.

<What were you doing in the lab this late at night?> she asks, crossing her arms.

<Why? The moon’s still there during the day.>

Lili can’t help smiling again.

<Mind if I come down?> Raz asks.

Raz lists forward and effortlessly flips his way down the steep stone slope, landing all clean and professional in the grass at the bottom. His outfit is easier to see up close. Mint-green long-sleeve, light brown pants. The cuffs of both disappear into gray-green gloves and black and white hightop shoes. Lili gives him a single clap, and they get to work.

Both of them generate giant telekinesis hands composed of psychic energy in their respective colors. Raz selects a cluster of vines and yanks as hard as he can with his big TK hand. The vines react violently, twisting on their own so fast that the hand snaps into a cloud of scattering orange remains, complete with a “CHOMP” sound.

“Can’t we psi-blast them off?” Raz asks aloud.

“No way.” Lili doesn’t take her eyes off of the mess she’s concentrating on. Two fingers are pressed to her temple. “I’ve been so busy with missions and my mom visiting that I’ve hardly watered anything. I’d burn these stupid weeds off myself if the whole garden wouldn’t go up with them. I need my watering can, but I can’t get to it under all this.”

“Have you got any hedge clippers?”

“Yeah, they’re with the watering can.”

Raz thinks, forming a thought bubble that expands into a hand with a pair of hedge shears. He presses in on the weeds with a devilish grin.

Lili has wound up on the other side of the dividing hedge as the two of them move further into the garden. Green nettles and chunks of rope fly up from the other side while Lili tears strands of weeds apart with her TK hands. It’s a little easier, since hers wear gloves.

“So, about earlier…,” Raz begins gingerly. “Are you okay?”

Lili doesn’t break stride, but her eyes drag the ground.

“I’ve been worse. I just… I think I really screwed up this time.”

“What happened?”

Lili flashes back to earlier that evening, inside the Motherlobe. Everything is rendered in vague magenta shapes. Lili stood before a cork board covered in papers, pointing things out to the female figure from before as her father stood by. The woman’s arms were crossed stiffly. Her frame was broad and imposing. She was taller than the others in the room. Truman’s hands were clasped limply behind his back.

“Everything was going fine,” Lili continues. “I was showing mom all the cool stuff we’ve been doing and how safe the cadet missions are. She seemed, like, actually impressed for a second.”

The figure of Lili’s mother put the knuckles of her hand to her mouth. She had long hair that fell over her shoulders and a frizzy topknot that resembled a flame or firework. Her chin dipped in consideration.

“So, when are you coming back East with me?” her mother asked.

“Uh, I dunno. Things have been really busy.” Lili hadn’t had a better answer.

“Lili, be careful you’re not letting the Psychonauts get in the way of the real world.” The woman turned her intense blue gaze on Truman, who didn’t meet her eyes. “And family.”

“Why’d she look at your dad?” Raz asks in the present, poking his head over the hedge.

“Well, my dad may be really good at his job as Grand Head, but he didn’t used to be good at being, y’know, my dad,” Lili explains as casually as she can manage.

“Oh…” Raz sinks down behind the hedge as he thinks about that. “I guess Truman does hold the record for the most field hours. And office hours. And overtime hours. That probably wouldn’t leave time for much else.”

End ID]

#brambles 1 #psychonauts fancomic #lili zanotto #razputin aquato

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tvickiesims · 2 years

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Shrubs Default Replacement + Custom Versions

A complete replacement of almost all shrubs found in game. Now they are bigger, more lush and hopefully look more like their real-life counterparts.

There’s also a custom version of each shrub (lupin only has a V2 version as cutom) with all recolors in case you’d like to keep Maxis ones. It can be used alongside default replacement, it’s also seasonal and behaves just like Maxis shrubs but doesn’t need to be trimmed. These were cloned from Bienchen83′s seasonal shrubs that I’ve modified to be recolorable.

Shrubs replaced: bougainvillea, fountain of grass, hibiscus, hydrangea, oleander, phlox, rose, seaweed called "Big Pond Peddlers Sea Pod”, sunflower and lupin (in V1 they got some minor color tweaks on their leaves but V2 is a complete replacement of their model).

There’s also a V2 version for sunflower, lupin and phlox:

Be sure to choose only one version!

IMPORTANT!

This replacement is incompatible with replacements for shrubs that change their texture, mesh or both. It is also incompatible with @an-elegant-simblr plant fixes (with a few exceptions of shrubs and hedges that I didn’t include in this replacement). All recolors will be broken too. I’ve already integrated my no sheen fix for sunflower and lupin in their packages so you can delete those files if you were using them. The overgrown state of all shrubs looks the same as normal state so visually you won’t see any difference until you click on it. I didn’t test it thoroughly because I use Perfect Plants mod so please report any problems.

- - -

All meshes are my own conversions from The Sims 4 (but sunflower V2 replacement is a Wood For Sims sunflower shrub (original can be found at the booty here) for which I made additional matching recolors). Because they have undersides, polycount became higher for all shrubs but never exceeds 3000 polys. Textures were mostly taken from Witcher 3 (extracted by saricoya and shared here) as well as various images found online. Voeille’s plant fixes were used as reference to create winter states for sunflower and lupin V1.

Everything is separated so you can pick and choose what you’d like to have in your game.

Be aware that one file - Tvickiesims_Hibiscus_DR - has the same name as hibiscus tree replacement I’ve posted earlier. Do not overwrite! Thank you to @plumbtales for letting me know!

NOW HAS A REDUX VERSION - same shrubs and textures but lower polycount. Please note that the way I did it doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll ease the strain on your graphics card (according to wiki). You can always switch to the original version if you have any problems with the new one.

Polycount:

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

UPDATE 25/08

For DR only: Forgot to replace phlox’s overgrown state. If you noticed your phlox reverted to its Maxis shape when overgrown - please redownload!

UPDATE 01/09

Slightly reworked Hibiscus’ texture to no longer have that white trim, especially visible when zooming out. Both links were updated, please redownload!

UPDATE 11/09

Added a V2 version for sunflower and lupin default replacement shrubs. Be sure to keep only one version!

UPDATE 24/10

Added a V2 version for phlox, re-fixed phlox’s overgrown state, smoothed out several meshes, added phlox’s V2 to custom shrubs (it can be used alongside V1 only as custom version), changed mod’s description and added polycount.

UPDATE 28/10

Added a redux version of all the shrubs (custom and dr) and adjusted hydrangea recolors (new mesh only, custom and dr).

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Trees replacement is here

Flowers replacement is here

Desert plants replacement is here

Tropical plants replacement is here

Compressed, clearly labelled, pictures included.

Download Default Replacement (SFS)

Download Default Replacement - REDUX (SFS)

Download Custom (SFS)

Download Custom - REDUX (SFS)

Download REDUX-adjusted hydrangea recolors (custom and dr) (SFS)

#s2 #s2cc #default replacement #default #mydr #bytvickiesims #shrubs #plants by tvickiesims

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sgiandubh · 7 months

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Hi! I wasn’t around for the chateau marmont photo either, so I don’t know what’s already been discussed. It does kind of look like there’s more of the grass to the left (our left) of the woman in white though. Sure looks like ugly decor, but 🤷🏻‍♀️. Doesn’t change my opinion that Sam and caitriona are together, but I think some of the possible photoshops are hard to be sure of. Definitely appreciate the speculation though!

Dear Chateau Marmont Anon,

If you take five minutes of your time and read the comments thread, two veterans (@mariaae and @dillon7fan) confirmed the picture was never discussed before being posted on 'that ol blunt knife blog' (I see you and now I know there is a definite shortage of capital letters in Spain).

And then, there's you, to whom I am willing to grant the benefit of the doubt.

Work with me:

You write, and I quote you: It does kind of look like there’s more of the grass to the left (our left) of the woman in white though.

You mean, this smiling lady?

That is not grass, my dear. That is, most probably, a ficus tree (but I stand corrected, I am no expert in these).

But that is not the big problem I have with this bizarre picture, featuring outdoorsy bistrot chairs and yes, a lot of greenery.

In all honesty and fairness, here is an interesting picture of Chateau Marmont's very indoor/outdoor restaurant. The nay contest outdoor area - furniture is a perfect match and there are shrubs (happy?):

Let's suppose the pic was taken on the patio area, facing the fancy covered structure that looks like a tent. Something still does not really click and I am pretty sure there's either a problem of angle or a matter of scale.

Not being a gardener, I asked myself if there is a standard height for this kind of privacy/screening shrubs. I found something very interesting, on the site of a Californian landscape professional established since 1869 (https://pacificnurseries.com/great-hedge-screen-plants-for-privacy/) and I have to say the suggested scale matches the picture:

Let's add 2 inches to this rough estimate, upping it to 3 feet and 2 inches (96 centimeters). In the context, the two inches are negligible, because these shrubs grow rather fast and are regularly pruned.

If we assume the leg length represents about half the person's height, well... we reach a height of about 6 feet and 4 inches, which means 193 centimeters. There are scientific reasons to this ratio, by the way, but do not ask me to elaborate on it (specialized input is always a big plus):

I do not remember Tracula to be that commanding. I can, however, think of someone whose height is very close to that result.

So, in a nutshell, it's a pick your adventure scenario, Anon. Either:

a) that is a (photoshopped) grass background and the guy can bilocate better than Star Trek's Data.

b) that's a shrub and the height of that person (body?) does not match Tracula's.

In all fairness, I think that's a shrub. I have no problem acknowledging my wrongs and my limits.

I also have another question: is Tracula documented as wearing watches? I am being very honest here and could do with your feedback.

Is that proof? It's another layer of speculation. I am not megalomaniac, thank God.

It's never (never, ever) waterproof with these people.

#Anon

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the-bonereaders-library · 8 months

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i don't know if some mad god whispered to me, or if I'm just losing my mind, but I decided to spontaneously start not 1 but 2 new projects. started making some mushroom forest/grotto/cave scenery that I've wanted to do for a while to break up the mostly industrial theme that the rest of my terrain currently is. and then I also got some gobbos to go with the terrain because 1) goblins have been on the mind since I started those d&d minis a few weeks ago, and 2) I just started learning the gloomspite's lore and they might just be the funniest faction in all of Warhammer. recipes under the read more.

the craft store I went to today had a sale on all their summer floral stuff, so I grabbed a random bunch of things to make this with (not pictured are the other floral/fake aquarium plants I got to add some color at the end). those big hedge looking things were formerly foam letters covered in grass and flock. after breaking them up, rearranging them as platforms, and gluing them together I figure they look like overgrowth/shrubbery of some sort. i sculpted the giant mushrooms from air dry clay, I will attach some to their own bases, and others I'll use to accent the other parts, like the shrub things. the bases are just chipboard covered in white glue and sand. when they're dry, I'll prime them black and drybrush them to look like dirt and rock. once that dries, I'll start gluing the shrubs and mushrooms and stuff to them. I also have a twig wreath that I'm going to cut up and make look like fallen logs and such, in addition to the actual half log that's also shown. finally, I made some small mushrooms by letting dollops of hot glue dry, then super gluing toothpicks to them. like I said, this was all very spur of the moment and not super planned out, but I'm super happy with how much I got done in one day though.

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pxgeturner · 10 months

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so this is love, in the garden — reimagined!jacques le gris

a gentleman stumbles upon a secret area of the palace garden, and sings a duet with an invisible maiden.

an. so. um. yeah this is my first piece in a reaaallll long time. and yeah it’s jacques. but this is not like, canon jacques. this is my version of jacques, a ladies man, naturally, but not necessarily a gentlemen in all aspects of life. he is not in any way a villain. when i tell you i was SO EXICTED for the last duel, i was ecstatic to have adam play a knight-in-shining-armor types, i had no idea that the movie was going to be… that (😖) so my brain blocked that out and put jacques into a reign!au/crossover so.. um yeah.. hopefully some ppl like this.

wc. 456

you wandered about the secret secluded area of the garden you call “yours”. of course, it is not yours but the crown’s. but no one ever comes here and you do not even think that the king nor the queen is aware of this spot's existence, as it is at the very edge of the garden, almost wood. there is a pond and two flower beds as well as a hedge that hides it all. you suppose not a soul besides you knows of this alcove. people think the hedge marks the end of the garden. this might be the king’s garden, but this is your secret space.

you lay at the edge of the water, dipping your fingers, singing a simple melody. you start to sing of the thing your soul craves.

“so this is love,

so this is love

so this is what makes life, divine

i’m all aglow—

and now i know—”

“and now i know,” a deep, attractive voice startles you. you cover your mouth and just barely stop yourself from rolling over into the pond.

“the key to all heaven is mine,” you sing together. you hear heavy footfall near your oasis.

“my heart has wings

and i can fly—”

he’s about to round the hedge. you can’t let him see you- you don’t know why, you just can’t. so you pick yourself up, and tuck yourself into the shrub. you’ve hidden in it before, once or twice when you want a complete guarantee of privacy. the greenery leaves no hint of your presence, your skirts tucked neatly under you.

as you start the last verse together, he discovers your place. you peer at him through the branches and leaves. he’s tall, very tall. with long hair and a broad frame. you recognize him. the new lord that has joined court. lord le gris. jacques, you think his name is.

you didn’t think he was one for singing.

“i’ll touch every star in the sky.

so, this is the miracle

that i've been dreaming of.

so… this, is, love—”

part of you wanted him to find you. maybe he’d scoop you out of the bush, help you fix your gown, and pick any twigs or leaves out of your hair. you’ve heard of how charming he is to the ladies of the court. you haven’t met him yet, as you are busy tending to queen mary.

“mademoiselle, where did you go?”

you couldn’t bring yourself to let him see you.

“will i hear from you again?” you gave him a soft melody as an answer. he rounds the pond, looking at the flowers.

“you have the voice of an angel. hopefully you would soon allow me to see the face of one as well.”

You can’t wait to meet lord le gris.

#reimagined!jacques le gris #jacques le gris #jacques le gris x reader #jacques le gris x you #reign #reign TV show #adam driver #adcu #adcu fanfiction #adam driver x reader #adam driver x you #adam driver character #my writing

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sarcasticdolphin · 8 days

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"Baptism" Smrtolf (Canon)

For the amazing @adridoesstuff as all the Smrtolf drabbles are :)

This is a soft one. Cut is for length.

They were nearing the end of Rudolf’s confinement. That much was clear - Smrt’s prince had been much more perked up the past few days, eyes wide and curiosity clear even in the dim gloom of Smrt’s quarters. It wouldn't be long now. Gone were the days when Rudolf had simply snoozed as Smrt read him poetry, finally resting in a way that he never had when he was alive. No, Rudolf was almost ready to properly meet his new siblings. But Smrt would still treasure this last day alone in their little world.

Smrt’s personal garden - dim as ever beneath the tall hedges and great trees - was a welcome chance to stretch their legs, and for Smrt to stretch his wings. He’d only started bringing Rudolf into the garden a few days previous, but already he saw the clear differences. Rudolf had only really snoozed in the garden that first day, exhausted by the two dozen or so steps that Smrt had led him from the softness of the bed to the great tree they had rested under. Now, though? Now Rudolf’s eyes flicked back and forth through the garden, taking in all the little sights. The small fountains, bubbling quietly. The little beds of shrubs and flowers that preferred to bloom at night. And the pool. As much as he hadn’t said anything, Rudolf’s eyes gave him away.

In some ways it still felt a little serene looking at said eyes - Smrt’s new angel had inherited the eyes he had spent his mortal years with from his mother, and they had been a soft and warm brown. Doe eyes.

Nothing at all like the pale blue colored eyes that lingered a little too long on the pool.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Smrt still finds the expression a little odd on his tongue. He had picked it up from one of the younger angels a good few years ago, but it seems apt in this situation. He wants to know what about the pool fascinates his precious angel.

“Mmmmm.” Rudolf half-hums softly, glancing at Smrt, then back at the pool one last time before he finds Smrt’s eyes. “I-” The former prince pauses, thinking. Organizing his thoughts. Choosing his words. “Would you anoint me?”

Rudolf almost looks a little hesitant, but Smrt is quick to reassure him, letting his hand rest on his precious angel’s cheek. For Rudolf is his, even if the prince still carries a few lingering habits - and ideas - from the mortal world. As much as his prince had chosen the word carefully, Smrt knows him well. It’s not so much an annointment he wants, but a baptism or sorts. For all the disdain Rudolf had held for the church and clergy in life, perhaps it was natural that he wanted some symbolic freedom from them now.

“Of course.” The answer is swift and easy. Some of Smrt’s angels forget their lives easily enough, but others need this. Little bits of closure, as it were.

They rest together for a few long moments before Smrt rises, finally stretching his wings, arching them for the first time in days. He’s more stiff than he likes to be, but he hadn’t wanted to spend any more time away from Rudolf than was absolutely necessary during these precious days and weeks together.

Ruduolf doesn’t wait for Smrt to help him up - another sign that his angel is nearly ready to join the rest of the flock - but tucks himself into Smrt’s protective arms without hesitation, half-purring as he does.

Smrt pulls Rudolf closer until they are forehead to forehead, his wings arcing around them both, forming a protective shield as he wrapped his arms around Rudolf’s hips and pulls him closer still. For his part Rudolf’s arms slip around Smrt’s neck in a way that is entirely natural. Like they were age-old companions.

“Shall we?” The question is slightly playful on Smrt’s part, but asked earnestly. Rudolf’s exhaustion is lessening but not gone, and his angels deserve proper rest. There is no rush.

But Rudolf seems as alert as ever, nodding and glancing again at the pool even as Smrt takes him by the hand and leads him over the few steps so they stand at the edge, gazing into the still, mirrored surface.

Smrt does at least still have the presence of mind to rid them both of most of their garments, leaving Rudolf and Smrt in matching loose pants and precious little else as Smrt takes Rudolf by the hand once more and leads him into the pool, his thumb. The water is cool, and in life Smrt would already be fretting over Rudolf catching a chill. But there is no need. Rudolf is of the flock now, and the cold will never trouble him again.

They hold each other close for another long moment before Smrt brings his hand to Rudolf’s shoulder, asking a silent question. Rudolf answers the unasked question with the slightest of nods.

It’s a quick process - Rudolf goes willingly and easily. Smrt barely has to push him under at all, even though the pool is not deep, the water only lapping at their waists.

Three long moments later Smrt tugs Rudolf back up again, pulling his angel closer.

“Rudolf.” Now it is Smrt who sounds more like he is praying than anything. He brushes a kiss over Rudolf’s cheek, and he finds with a small bit of surprise that they have switched positions. Now Rudolf’s hand is on his shoulder, asking a silent question.

Smrt nods, letting his knees give in and Rudolf pushes him down into the cool shadows beneath the surface of the pool.

There is a peace he hadn’t expected. The world is distorted in a way Smrt finds oddly beautiful, but Rudolf is pulling him back up soon enough.

The kiss is a gentle one, natural and soft. A promise.

Smrt does drag Rudolf back into his quarters only a few moments after they exit the pool. As much as Rudolf will not catch a chill any longer, wet trousers aren’t exactly comfortable, and after a lifetime of stiff jackets and unyielding boots, the least Smrt can do is to ensure his angel is kept in the warmest and softest fabrics.

He doesn’t realize which clothes he had offered Rudolf, which clothes he had begun pulling on himself, until they are both almost halfway dressed. The white garb had been well hidden, there more as some sort of forlorn hope. Pushed far enough to the back that Smrt never so much as saw it.

But his hands seemed to know it was there, and the soft, supple which garb is perfect. Of course Rudolf would be his - utterly and totally. Smrt’s most precious angel.

They probably could have gone to the flock the next day, or even that afternoon, but Rudolf seems just as content as Smrt to wait one last day before they help each other into the white coats. It’s time for Rudolf to meet his siblings properly.

#smrtolf #todolf #my fic

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