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totaly-obsessed · 6 months

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Hi! Can you do a Mary earps and reader fic where the reader is England medic or coach and all the team love her and Mary is soooo proud and in love but also wants all the attention from her girl plwaseeee

Comfort

Mary Earps x reader request

-> Reader is the Lionesses medic, and also Mary's wife

-> Talk of Alex Greenwood's recent injury

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Mary loved National Camp – all her friends playing together, representing their country. But her favorite thing about it? Being with you 24/7.

As one of the teams’ medics and physios, you accompanied them to every training and game, wearing your wife’s jersey beneath the team jacket. And it was not one of the shirts that you can buy, but one of Mary’s personal ones, one from the euros. So not only were you a good-luck charm but you were also wearing one.

Mornings at Saint George’s Park were your second favorite, right behind breakfast in bed with Mary. While you definitely were not a morning person, your wife was and the early training start didn’t help you either, so at eight in the morning, you were sat at a table in the dining hall – a steamy cup of coffee in front of you, just as you liked it. Mary had given it to you when you returned from your shared room, having to go back because you had forgotten your bag.

The brunette was currently getting food for the both of you, while you tried to wake up with the coffee. “Doc!” You were in fact not a doctor of any kind, but Lucy didn’t care either way and just threw herself down in one of the chairs next to you. The defender handed you a small chap-stick-like tube. “It’s a wake-up-stick. Thought ya could need it.” You smiled at her gratefully, thanking her with a quick squeeze of her hand. After applying the stick, you waited, and while you didn’t notice an immediate difference it smelled nice.

“Aye Miss Earps! How have ya been?” It was Ella’s loud voice that eventually pulled you out of your sleep-induced trance. The younger girl sat down next to you – in Mary’s chair - as she excitedly told you a story of something Alessia had done, who sat on her other side, followed by Garce. Eventually, Esme, Hempo, and Maya joined in as well. The table had become too small after Grace sat down, but no one cared. The footballer just pulled in more tables and chairs, making the circle bigger and bigger until Mary finally came back. “Oi, what’s this then?”

The entire Lionesses squad had squished around a couple of tables, exited chatter filling the room, with you somewhere in between. “Up ya get Tooney.” The brunette could whine and pout as much as she liked but Mary was ruthless, wanting to sit next to her wife. You thanked her with a quick kiss, rolling your eyes as you heard Rachel yell “There’s children here – perverts!” Your favorite goalkeeper was quick to yell “And you’re one of them!” back at the blonde as the table started laughing.

You loved this. While you were not a part of the team that was on the pitch, the girls loved you. For you, and not for being Mary’s wife.

After eating you had to leave earlier, needing to set up the treatment room, checking if everything was where it was supposed to be. Georgia was the first to come in, wanting some numbing cream on her ankle as she had an incredibly sore bruise there. Next was Ellie, who got her neck taped as she had some tension there. After all the smaller complaints had been dealt with, your very favorite patient entered the room, hugging you from behind to announce her arrival.

“My turn, Lovie.” It was a nice little ritual you had built up over time – Mary would sit down and apply ice spray to her hands before you started taping her left one, laying a kiss on top when finished, before repeating the same thing for her second hand. Then came your favorite part – taping her shoulders. After making sure that no one else was in the room and that there were no cameras your wife would take off her shirt, pulling the straps of her sports bra to the sides as well as she could.

This was also the brunette’s favorite part, as you massaged her tense shoulders, layering them in soft kisses – marveling at her muscles as you started taping them. “Like what you see, my love?” She would always ask, a teasing smirk on her face before she would pull you into a passionate kiss – the last one both of you would get before the end of training.

It was the last day before the England-Belgium game and the small training session had gone by without any problems, sending the players to recovery.

But it was the next day, matchday, that you and your abilities would be tested.

In the seventh minute, the game was interrupted with a call of ‘handball into the area by Chloe Kelly’ which meant that there would be a freekick for Belgium in an incredibly dangerous position. Mary had set the girls up to her liking but the ball was struck with perfection, curling nicely, and finding the back of the net – leaving your wife to catch the rebound ball as she laid on the ground. It was devastating, knowing that she would blame herself for it. But it was only the seventh minute, leaving the whole game up for grabs.

And then it happened.

In the Eighteenth minute, a long ball from the Belgian goalkeeper found its way to the other side of the pitch, leaving Alex Greenwood and Jassina Blom to collide with their head against each other. Directly in front of the England bench.

Before the blonde even hit the ground, you had started running with your colleague grabbing the bag.

Alex was lying head-down on the pitch as the stadium got silent in shock. You kneeled by her head, getting as close to her as you managed. “Can you hear me, Alex?” But you quickly noticed that she couldn’t answer you, she was in too much pain. “Tap your finger once for yes, twice for no. Can you hear me?” One tap.

She was still conscious.

“Have you had more than one concussion before?” One tap.

Fuck.

Knowing the risks of multiple head injuries, it was important to react in a proper manner. Most of the players were standing at Sarina’s side as she gave instructions, but you could feel their scared stares finding you again and again as you tried to hide Alex from the world. Mary didn’t stand too far away from you, terrified that you were on the pitch. As much as she loved you, when you were on the pitch something bad had happened.

You were checking the injured player’s pulse and her pupils, as everything showed signs of a terrible concussion – but with previous injuries, this was a ticking time bomb. Just a minute later the field doctors entered the pitch, stretcher in hand as they walked towards you.

The Belgian player sat up again, a bandage on her head, but it was too risky to sit Alex up. Any sudden movement could send her into a seizure and the aftereffects could be immense. With all of the doctors at your side now, you carefully turned the player on her back, after getting confirmation from a professional you had placed a wet rag over her eyes, trying to shield them from the harsh lights.

Mary was standing behind you, offering her legs as something to lean against, which you gladly accepted as her teammate was heaved onto the stretcher as carefully as possible. In the 31st minute, Alex was finally stretchered off by the medical professionals as you sat back down in your seat – heart pumping incredibly fast.

The game was lost, Belgium winning 3-2 the shock of Alex’s injury still sitting deep.

Back in the team hotel, it was quiet, they had not only lost an important game, but Alex their friend and teammate was in the hospital.

Mary sat next to you on one of the big couches as some of the younger ones looked for comfort in the two of you. It was Chloe who just blatantly sat down in your lap, cuddling into your wife and yourself looking for warmth and shelter. And it did not take too much longer until you were covered in players as they flocked towards you like a herd of lost sheep that were looking for comfort.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader #mary earps x reader #mary earps #man united wfc x reader

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zal-cryptid · 1 month

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What are the three ghosts of Christmas like in the other world canon. I believe jacob Marley worked tooth and nail to get them to help Scrooge and Is the ghost of Christmas yet to come an aspect of death

I call them the "Three Santas" in my Otherworld canon.

The Ghost of Christmas Past is the spirit of Saint Lucy, chosen due to her association with light and sight, as well as her holiday being in mid-December.

The Ghost of Christmas Present was always going to be obvious. Dickens based him on Father Christmas, an English folk figure that evolved from pagan traditions who later merged with Saint Nicholas.

And finally, keeping with the theme of choosing saints, it only made sense I find one that personified death in some fashion in order to represent the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. The mexican folk saint Santa Meurte seemed like a perfect, albeit somewhat out of place, fit.

#ask #tales of the otherfolk #my art #saint #saint lucy #saint nicholas #santa muerte #folklore #worldbuilding #mythology #a christmas carol #ghost of christmas present #ghost of christmas past #ghost of christmas future #ghost of christmas yet to come #santa claus #christmas #christianity #paganism

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sparkbeast20 · 1 year

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I just noticed something really weird.

If Luci were inviting MC in this pic, why doesn’t he open his whole palm but only 3 fingers?

Like maybe this is my religious sense kicking in but in Catholic symbolism, three fingers (thumb, index, middle) represent the Trinity when a priest gives the blessing. Hence, a priest can give a blessing with open palm (5 fingers), or just 3 mentioned fingers.

In some religious arts, you can see Jesus and some saints that are priests, bishops, etc…raise their three fingers up in blessing. Some institutions and offices also require raising these 3 fingers up for taking an oath.

Christians who belong to a denomination named Eastern Orthodox (majority of them are in Eastern Europe) also make the sacred sign ✝️ with 3 forementioned fingers on their right hand.

Maybe it’s just a coincidence. But-

What do you think?

Yeah! often you get these type of hand gestures

But he specially has thumb, index, and middle stretch out. That's a interesting detail!

#spark's answer #hi klein :3

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cinebration · 2 years

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Thieving Touch (Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader) [Part 1]

Premise: Steven meets you at the museum and thinks you’re normal, but Marc thinks you’re a thief. They’re both right. Sort of.

Will do my best to minimize spoilers from the show as possible. There may be some discussions of mental health problems in the future, but from the reader’s side, not necessarily Steven and Marc’s.

Tagged: @simpforbuckyb, @gracehorses, @raging-trash-of-mind, @galactic-galabee, @wordacadabra, @lucy-sky

Warnings: none

Gif Source: oscar-isaac

Steven watched the patrons mill about the museum, wandering up to display cases and reading the placards there. How he wished to be alongside them, telling them the things the placards didn’t say, giving them the knowledge they were missing by only superficially engaging with Egyptian history and its associated pantheon. No one really ever came up to him even to buy the sweets on his counter, and the one or two that did eventually wander to a stop before him weren’t much interested in discussing the finer points of Egyptian mythology.

He still clung to a fragment of hope, however, no matter how often his supervisor, Donna, rejected his attempts to become tour guide. Maybe the next time the board members came into the museum, he could stage something to show them he knew what he was doing. Maybe he could even demonstrate that by going to the marketing department and telling them what they had gotten wrong on the banners.

As he listened to his watch click down to closing time, he gazed out at the diminishing stream of patrons. As he glanced past one of the displays by the Ammit pillar, he paused and turned his attention back.

You stood in front of a display case, hands hanging by your sides, fingers twitching like misfiring nerves shooting to your fingernails. Steven realized that you had been standing there for five minutes, unmoving but for the spasmodic digits.

Glancing over his shoulder for Donna and satisfying himself that she wasn’t around, he slipped out from behind the counter and slowly approached you. As he drew nearer, shifting to his right to see your face first in three-quarter profile, then in full profile, he felt himself losing his nerve. He hadn’t expected you to be so pretty, not from what he had seen of the back of your head. What was he doing?

“Hullo,” he greeted, hands held close together in front of him.

You jerked your attention to him.

“Sorry,” he apologized, already mentally kicking himself. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Can I help you with anything?”

Your lips twitched as though you were fighting a laugh. Steven smiled awkwardly, feeling what little confidence he had flag.

“So, you know a lot about this stuff, do you?” You gestured to the Egyptology wing in general.

“Probably too much,” Steven conceded quickly, though the stupid grin on his face said otherwise. “It’s my passion.”

“Obsession.”

He frowned. “Well, no, that’s got something of a negative context—”

“Is there an Egyptian god of thieves?”

He blinked. “Oh, uh…I’m not sure I’ve ever come across one, no. See, the Egyptian gods were used to represent abstract concepts, as well as natural and social phenomena. They aren’t patron saints.”

You chuckled, the sound dry and labored. “Not all are saints.”

“Sorry, what?”

“The Greeks had one, you know. A god of thieves. Hermes, not that many people care much about him. They hear his name and they think, Oh, that fun Paul Shaffer kinda guy from Hercules? Wings on his ankles? But he was more involved in human lives than the others and to much less detriment.” You cocked your head, and for the first time, Steven wondered if you weren’t looking at the object behind the glass but your own reflection in the crystal. “The Greeks did a hell of a job showing what happens when the divine touches the human.”

Steven scrutinized your profile as you continued staring into the display case. Wrinkles slowly bunched around your mouth and eyes, the muscle in your jaw flexing, the muscle over your temple tightening with it.

“Are you okay, miss?”

You blinked and fixed your attention on him, your eyes strangely clouded before suddenly sharpening on him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.”

You flashed him a brilliant smile. His heart skipped, tension running down his spine as years fell off your face, your eyes alight with a fire he hadn’t seen before, as though the embers in your pupils had suddenly burst into whooshing flame.

“I know the feeling,” he managed to stutter. “The tiredness, I mean.”

Your gaze slid over his face, warming his cheeks. “You do, don’t you?”

“I have, um, a sleeping disorder.”

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah. I have to sleep with a—” He stopped himself. He couldn’t just tell you about the cuff around his ankle. Definition of a red flag that was, wasn’t it? “I have to take measures, you know?”

You nodded sagely. “I can’t sleep unless I…do something, you know?” You waved vaguely. Your attention snapped back to the display case. Sucking a breath between your teeth, you shoved your hands into your jacket pockets.

“What…” Steven swallowed thickly, his mouth both dry and gummy. Come on, bruv, you’ve got this. “I’m Steven. Steven Grant.”

You smiled again, shaking him. “You’ve got it backwards.”

“I’ve got…what backwards?”

“It’s Grant. Steven Grant. Like Bond. James Bond.”

A burst of laughter chuffed past his lips. “Oh, right. Clever!”

“I’m more of a le Carré fan myself, but Fleming did alright.”

“Oh, I, uh, don’t read much fiction. I should read more, though,” he covered quickly. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“Ladies and gentlemen, the museum will be closing in ten minutes.”

Steven felt the wind slip his sails. Trying not to let his disappoint show too much, he turned to you, smiling weakly.

“You work here often?” you asked.

Hope rekindled anew in his chest. “Y-yes. Most days, standard nine-to-five and all that.”

Cocking your head, you stared at him for a moment, long enough for him to start flushing beneath your gaze. “What kind of stories do you like?”

“Oh, um…I dunno. Adventure?”

“Adventure and Egyptian mythology,” you noted. “Sounds like you should’ve been an explorer or archeologist a hundred years ago.”

“Dunno about that. I mean, the adventure, yeah, and the discovery, that would be smashing.”

“There would be a lot of smashing,” you quipped, laughing. The sound made his soul quiver. “I’ll come back, then, with some recommendations.”

“Oh, really?” Excitement surged through him. “That would be smashing.”

Smashing again? He could hit himself.

You laughed instead. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Steven. Steven Grant.”

With that, you cast one last glance at the display case and strode across the marble floor to the front doors. Steven watched you go, not so much to enjoy the way you walked but because he was frozen to the spot, stuck there by his own hope overwhelming him. It didn’t feel real.

He reached into his pocket to whip out his phone and call his mother.

“Stevie!” Donna’s voice snapped across the room.

Steven squeezed his eyes shut, slowly turned to face her. “Sorry!”

“What were you doing? You’re not a tour guide. Stop chatting people up unless you’re trying to sell them sweeties.”

Sighing, Steven clung desperately to the buoyant hope in his chest. You were going to see him again. Sure, he may not have gotten your name just yet—

He hadn’t gotten your name. Frowning, he inwardly kicked himself. When he saw you again—he would not entertain “if”—he would be sure to learn it. He was sure it fit you like a crown on a queen.

“Not to burst your bubble, Steven, but she won’t be coming back for you.”

Steven shot an irritated glance at his not-reflection in the display cases he passed. Marc stared back at him, lips pressed into a thin “just how it is” line.

“Don’t do that,” Steven groused. “Don’t ruin my night.”

“I’m just saying, she’ll be coming back, but not for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means she was here casing the place.”

“Sorry?”

“She’s planning on robbing it.”

Steven snorted. “Now you’re having a laugh. Just because you would do something like—”

“Who says I would—”

“I wouldn’t put it past you!”

Both men huffed at each other as Steven retreated behind his register and began gathering up the sweets displays.

“I can’t believe you would sabotage me like this,” Steven snapped. “Getting into my head—”

“I’m always in your head, Steven.”

“I have a right to be happy! And you’re not going to ruin it with your crazy American paranoia.”

“Crazy American paranoia? I’ve never heard that before.”

“Well, you’ve heard it now. First time for everything and all that.”

Marc threw his hands up and shook his head. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Steven rolled his eyes at the reflection and slid a box over it to hide Marc. He wouldn’t let him take this away from him. It was the first hopeful thing he had had within his grasp—hell, within his realm—in a long time.

He couldn’t wait to call his mother to tell her.

#Steven Grant x Reader #Steven Grant #Steven Grant imagine #Marc Spector x Reader #Marc Spector #Marc Spector imagine #Jake Lockley x Reader #Jake Lockley #Jake Lockley imagine #Oscar Isaac x Reader #Oscar Isaac #Oscar Isaac imagine #Moon Knight #Marvel #MCU

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delicatuscii-wasbella102 · 5 months

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"Saint Lucy's Day is celebrated most widely in Scandinavia, Italy and the island nation of Saint Lucia, each emphasising a different aspect of her story. In Scandinavia, where Lucy is called Santa/Sankta Lucia, she is represented as a lady in a white dress symbolizing a baptismal robe with a crown or wreath of candles on her head."

#unknown photographer

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portraitsofsaints · 1 year

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Saint Lucia (St. Lucy) 283-304 Feast Day: December 13 Patronage: blind, martyrs, Perugia, Italy, epidemics, salesmen, throat infections, writers

Saint Lucia or Lucy was a 3rd C. Italian martyr who brought the light of faith, hope, and charity to the poor and Christians in the darkness of the catacombs. Tradition has it that during a terrible famine in Sweden a beautiful girl with a glow about her head, came to shore bringing food, saving the Swedes from starvation. On December 13th, St. Lucy's Day, the eldest daughter wakes the household, bringing St. Lucia buns and coffee, wearing a lighted wreath on her head, a white gown, with a red sash, representing baptism and martyrdom.

{website}

#St Lucy #St Lucia #Saint for the blind #Saint for writers #Catholic art

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princess2k12 · 4 months

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I have an idea for a Christmas themed magical girl series.

Santa Claus is kidnapped so Mrs. Claus grants a group of girls magical powers to save him.

Anastasia-Of Russian descent, becomes Snow Maiden, based off of Snegurochka, her colors are blue and white/silver, she represents Christmas snow

Lucia-Of Swedish descent, based off of Saint Lucy her colors are white and red, she represents the Light of Christmas

Sabine-Of Italian descent, becomes the Christmas Witch, based off of La Befana, her colors are red and green, she represents Christmas magic

The villain is Gryla, the Icelandic Christmas ogress. She recruits Krampus, Belsnickel, and maybe an ice wizard, or he’ll be the villain of the next arc.

The key to saving Santa are the gifts from The Twelve Days of Christmas.

What do you guys think? I just thought it was a cute concept, idk for what except my personal head play space. Feel free to add any ideas :)

#original idea #original character #magical girl #christmas folklore

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tessa-liam · 1 year

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Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter 4: As the Smoke Clears

Book: The Royal Romance Finale AU

Series Premise: Hidden in the shadows, poised to challenge the status quo are enemies of the state. The loyalties and honesty of family and of friends will be tested. ‘Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.’

Catch up: Smoke and Mirrors Masterlist

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!MC Riley Brooks-Rys, OTP ‘LiRi’

2nd Pairings: Leo Rys x Amalas, Drake Walker x F!OC Delaney Leigh

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except Delaney Leigh and Officer Cossoy

Rating: M🔞*Series Warnings: NSFW material, sexual innuendo, adult language/swearing/drinking

Category: Alternate Universe/on-going series/angst/fluff

Words: 1821, Read: 8 minutes

Chapter 4: As the Smoke Clears

Chapter Summary: Celebrating Valentine’s Day of lovers, family, and/or friends. The search for Lena continues in Monterisso. Not Beta'd-please excuse all errors.

A/N1: @choices-february2023 @lucy-268 #choicesfebruary2023 #choices monthly challenge Day18- Romance|Seafood|Hanging by a Moment by Lifehouse – Music Inspiration

A/N2: @choicesficwriterscreations #cfwc valentine 2023 Prompt, Here and Now – OTP celebrates with their kids

A/N3: @choicesflashfics Week #20, Prompt #3 - “Are you flirting or starting a fight?”

A/N4: @peonierose – Thank you for the picture/prompt

Royal Chambers, Cordonian Palace

It was an early Tuesday morning and Riley was taking full advantage of the terrace overlooking the gardens. Sipping her coffee, she relished her quiet time.

It’s Valentine’s Day.

...and today, her focus will be on her family.

Starting with baking home-made chocolate chip cookies that were now cooling on the counter. Promising to help Ellie with her Valentine gift for her father, she made one of the cookies into a giant heart for her to create and decorate her gift for Liam. The royal kitchen prepared 3 colors of royal icing for the princess to help her complete her decorating project.

For Liam, Riley has a surprise romantic dinner planned on the royal yacht tonight. A surf and turf feast with all his favorite dishes, prepared by the chef, cruising under the moonlight.

They had been planning a trip to Monterisso since finding out about the possible missing sister/fugitive, ‘Lena.’ The timing could not be more perfect for sailing, rather than flying to the island. Leo was already there with Amalas; Leo being the King’s representative involved with the search led by Interpol.

“Mm mm... what have we got here?” The sound of Liam’s deep groan caught her attention.

Riley turned to look inside the kitchen and saw him take a bite into a cookie.

“Hey, you,” she walked into the kitchen, smiling.

“Is this for me?” He grinned, staring at the huge heart she made.

“Yes! Yes, it is.” Riley smiled wide at his expression. Shaking her head, “it is part of Ellie’s Valentine gift for you. Do not touch, not yet!”

“Ellie wants to surprise you at lunch after your meeting by personally delivering it to you in your study.”

“This is my favorite kind of cookie," he said, reaching to grab another before turning back to her. “I’ll take care of these. You go finish your breakfast.”

“Ha, ha, your majesty,” Riley chuckled. Don’t take too many cookies back to your study with you.”

“Oh, and love.... bonne saint valentin a l’amour de ma vie.” Liam lifted her hand to kiss and then twirled her around. Riley reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, and whispered, “buon san valentino all’amore della mia vita,” followed by a deep kiss.

***

Leigh Townhouse, Capital

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Drake!” Delaney rolled underneath the bed sheets to her side to face her boyfriend coming out of the bathroom after his shower. His eyes were closed, and she smiled at how cute he looked with his wet hair sticking up all over his head and a towel wrapped around his waist. He opened his eyes and gave her a grin.

Walking to the bed, he bent down to whisper, “hey baby,” wrapping his arms around her and kissing her lips. Delaney smiled up at him as she laid there feeling safe and secure with the man she loved.

“I love you,” she told him as he kissed her again.

Drake sighed happily, “I love you too. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He pulled himself away from her and headed towards the closet.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Delaney asked playfully as she watched him pull out his boxers from the drawer.

“Getting dressed....”

“Well, I thought that since you came out of the shower wearing nothing but your towel,” Delaney replied teasingly.

Drake smiled back at her as he sat down on the bed next to her. He reached under the sheet to pull her bottom close to him. “And how do you know I wasn’t wearing anything?”

Delaney blushed. “Umm...well...” She looked away, embarrassed.

“Well, what?” he asked again, playing along with her.

“Well, you know I didn’t see much of you last night.”

Drake laughed. “I’m sure there was plenty to see.”

He looked down at Delaney's expression and she did not look happy. “Are you flirting or starting a fight?”

“A little bit of both?” Delaney replied frustrated.

“Drake, it's the best answer I can give you right now.

It is Valentine's Day! I thought you could stay home today with me, but instead you are going out.”

“Baby, after the council meeting, I am coming right back here with your Valentine gift.” Drake replied with a grin.

***

King’s Study, Cordonian Palace

“Are you ready, princess?” Riley asked Ellie as they walked hand in hand down the hallway to deliver Liam’s valentine gift.

As they approached his door, the royal guards bowed.

Ellie raised her hand and tapped. When she heard her father's voice say, “come in,” a royal guard opened the door for Ellie and Riley.

“Daddy!” Ellie rushed in and went around his desk. Liam picked her up and placed her on his knee.

“Well, hello princess,” he said, smiling at her.

“Oh Daddy, Happy Vawindines Day! I brought you a present.” Ellie handed him the giant heart-shaped cookie she had personally decorated.

Liam kissed her cheek, “Happy Valentine’s Day, my little love. Thank you so much, will you help me eat it?”

Ellie nodded excitedly as he placed the giant cookie on his desk.

Riley was watching the exchange between the two of them as she sat down on the sofa.

Liam looked over at Riley and winked.

“Princess, I have Valentine's Day presents for you and mommy, too.”

Her eyes lit up and she clapped her hands.

“Tonight, after your lesson, we are going on a boat. That is where I put them. And guess where we are going on that boat?”

Ellie furrowed her brows, and asked, “where, Daddy?”

“To visit Micaela in Monterisso.”

***

Royal Yacht, enroute to Monterisso

After getting Ellie settled into her bed for the night, Riley changed into her evening cocktail dress.

As the servers placed platters of crab legs, scallops, and calamari on the table, the chef set down individual plates of steak and lobster for each.

The music played softly in her ears as she walked out onto the deck after dinner. Standing there, she felt like she was floating on air. A smile spread across her face when she felt Liam’s hand gently stroke her bare back.

“You look so beautiful tonight, my Queen,” he whispered, as he leaned forward for a kiss.

“Thank you,” Riley deepened the kiss.

“Come dance with me,” he said, taking her hand.

As they moved effortlessly to the music, Delaney watched from the window, sitting at the dining table inside. It was the most romantic setting she had ever seen.

“What are you thinking about?” Drake asked her, but he was fairly sure he already knew.

“It must be hard being married to a King. But Riley makes it look so easy.”

“Well, Riley is an incredibly unique woman.” Drake said in reverence.

Delaney raised an eyebrow, waiting for Drake to continue.

Riley noticed Delaney watching them, as the song ended.

“Let us join Drake and Delaney inside, we still have dessert to eat.” Riley smiled as Liam kissed her hand.

“After you, love,” Liam gently turned Riley to go inside.

As Liam went inside to sit down at the dining table, Riley met with the chef to begin dessert service.

“Delaney, I hope you are enjoying yourself.” Liam enquired.

“I am. I have never been on a yacht before.”

“Li, this is a 5-star resort on water. Thank you for including Delaney and I on this cruise.”

“Oh yes, especially on Valentine’s Day,” Delaney exclaims.

Riley smiled. “No problem, we are happy you could join us.”

As the servers set their desserts in front of them, Liam squeezed Riley’s hand. “My love, you always indulge me.”

Delaney took her first bite of the baklava, “this is delicious.”

Drake grins at Liam and lifts his glass to propose a toast.

“To great food and good friends.”

***

As the evening progressed, Liam and Drake moved to the outside deck to discuss the game plan on the search for Lena.

While Riley and Delaney went to the lounge area of the yacht.

Both women being American, shared that commonality, but moreover, Riley wanted Delaney to feel comfortable in Cordonia. Since Liam and Drake are best friends, Delaney will be included with Royal court functions that Drake attends.

“So, how did you meet Drake?” Riley asked, as she sipped her infused sparkling water.

“We were in college together, about 10 years ago, at the University of Houston. I really liked him, so when he left to come back here, I tried to stay in contact, but I lost touch with him.” Delaney explained.

“That must have been difficult for you. How did you eventually find him?” Riley asked.

“I went to student services and found his forwarding address information. I kept trying to get in contact with him hoping he would remember me. He finally called me one day and it turned out that we reconnected after all those years.” Delaney sighed.

“Yes, you were here at Halloween last Fall.” Riley smiled.

Delaney grinned, “yes.... he was so sweet!”

“Now, let’s talk about you. Drake told me that you had some very bad experiences when you came to Cordonia.

Riley laughed, “where do I begin?”

Drake murmured to Liam, “should I be worried?” Liam replied, “man, you are so screwed.” His laugh bellowed and Riley looked up to him with a smirk, hearing his comment.

As Liam and Drake walked inside the yacht, they both took notice of the blossoming friendship of Riley and Delaney.

***

Translations: “bonne saint valentin a l’amour de ma vie.”

~ Happy Valentine’s Day to the love of my life en francais

“buon san valentino all’amore della mia vita”

~ Happy Valentine’s Day to the love of my life, in Italiano

***

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Leo & Amalas @twinkleallnight

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joannanora · 5 months

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Happy Lucia 🌟

Saint Lucy's Day, also called the Feast of Saint Lucy, is a Christian feast day observed on 13 December. The observance commemorates Lucia of Syracuse, an early-fourth-century virgin martyr under the Diocletianic Persecution.[1] According to legend, she brought food and aid to Christians hiding in the Roman catacombs, wearing a candle lit wreath on her head to light her way, leaving both hands free to carry as much food as possible.[2][3] Because her name means "light" and her feast day had at one time coincided with the shortest day of the year prior to calendar reforms, it is now widely celebrated as a festival of light.[4][5] Falling within the Advent season, Saint Lucy's Day is viewed as a precursor of Christmastide, pointing to the arrival of the Light of Christ in the calendar on December 25th, Christmas Day.[1][6]

Saint Lucy's Day is celebrated most widely in Scandinavia, Italy and the island nation of Saint Lucia, each emphasising a different aspect of her story.[2] In Scandinavia, where Lucy is called Santa/Sankta Lucia, she is represented as a woman in a white dress symbolizing a baptismal robe and a red sash symbolizing the blood of her martyrdom, with a crown or wreath of candles on her head.[7]

In Norway, Denmark, Sweden and Swedish-speaking regions of Finland, as songs are sung, girls dressed as Saint Lucy carry cookies and saffron buns in procession, which symbolizes bringing the Light of Christ into the world's darkness.[7][8] In both Catholic and Protestant churches, boys participate in the procession as well, playing different roles associated with Christmastide, such as that of Saint Stephen or generic gingerbread men, Santa Clauses, or nisses. The celebration of Saint Lucy's Day is said to help one live the winter days with enough light.[7]

A special devotion to Saint Lucy is practised in the Italian regions of Lombardy, Emilia-Romagna, Veneto, Friuli Venezia Giulia, Trentino-Alto Adige, in the north of the country, and Sicily, in the south, as well as in the Croatian coastal region of Dalmatia. In Hungary and Croatia, a popular tradition on Saint Lucy's Day involves planting wheat grains that grow to be several centimetres tall by Christmas Day, representing the Nativity of Jesus.[6

Source: Wikipedia

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motownfiction · 3 months

Text

secret project

Sadie starts the secret project a few weeks before Valentine’s Day. Whenever Daniel is out of the house or asleep, she heads down to the basement and works.

She’s not sure when she got the idea. Probably one of those late-night reckless drives she hasn’t taken in months. She probably heard the song on the radio then. Maybe it was just stuck in her head because of the feeling. It’s been over a year of the feeling, and it’s only now beginning to change. Not subside. Just change.

Daniel has been a saint through it all. He deserves something good like this.

Sadie’s making him a scrapbook – a living “In My Life” she calls it. She’s writing down the lyrics to “In My Life” and representing each verse in pictures. Places she remembers, like St. Catherine’s, like their first apartment. Places that have changed, like their new home, like the garage they remodeled over the summer, after Sadie came back to more of her senses. Lovers and friends, like high school pictures of Kim Campbell and Vicky St. John for a laugh, pictures of Lucy and Will. But now it’s time for the next page – the page she’s been dreading.

Some are dead.

Her hands shake as she picks up the photo of Sam – the last photo she took, on Christmas morning, hours before she had any idea he’d be gone. Sam was the reason that Sadie almost didn’t do this project. He’s also the reason she knows she has to do it. Not for him. For Daniel.

Because when she gets to the end, she hopes he knows she’s telling the truth.

It might have wrecked her to bury her twin brother, a part of herself that will always be untouchable there, under the surface of her skin, under the surface of anything living. But for as much as she loved Sam, as much as he knew about the person she’d always been because they’d always been parts of each other, that love could not compare.

There is no one who compares with you.

She pastes Daniel’s image into the scrapbook.

Exactly where he belongs.

(part of @nosebleedclub january challenge -- day 29!)

#drabble #writeblr #ch: sadie doyle #year: 2004

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saintlucyrepresents · 2 years

Photo

Scott Slusher Porch + Prairie Magazine

Scott Slusher photographed the feature on Panhandle Spade Ranch manager Jason Pelham for Porch + Prairie Magazine’s new Summer 2022 issue. Scott captured Pelham against the serene ranch landscape, backlit by the vibrant Northwest Texas sunset.

Check out Porch + Prairie Magazine’s Summer 2022 issue here and see more of Scott Slusher’s Western portfolio here.

#saint lucy represents #saintlucyreps #scott slusher #porch prairie mag #western art #western photography #country photography #western lifestyle #western lifestyle photography #texas photography #texas photographer #cover shoot #editorial photography #magazine photographer #nature photographer #sunset photography

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melliotwrites · 1 year

Note

i was wondering, why did y'all picked the saints you did for quincy's catholic guilt manifestations? and how did you design their costumes?

Mel here (who was mostly the writer in charge of the Catholicism storyline!) Thank you so so much for asking, I'm so headfull about them.

The particular saints that represent Quincy's religious trauma (Saint Lucy, Saint Cassian, Saint Lawrence, and Saint Jude), as well as the ones they invoke in Litany of the Martyrs (Saint Sebastian and Saint Francis), were chosen because they are famous Catholic martyrs, and because they are (generally) the patron saints of the things that martyred them! (For those unfamiliar with Catholicism, saints are sort of… God’s message-handlers, and you can pray to specific saints that are the “patron saints” of certain professions or causes to increase the chances of your prayer getting heard).

I think that the whole concept of patron saints of the methods of their martyrdom captures some unique fucked up indefinable quality of catholicism that really stuck with me after I left the Church; this image of Saints interceding on the behalf of the people who killed them, quips on their deathbeds that, in some cases, are all we know them for now, the idealization of a beautiful brutal stoic martyrdom for the faith... etcetera!

Here's the breakdown of stories by saint (which are a fusion of folk catholicism, historical sources, stories I was told as a child, etc- this is How I Understood Them In An Adamandi Context, but there's many competing hagiographies and unsubstantiated tales about these saints. It's an enjoyable internet rabbit hole if you ever have a free afternoon!)

Details below:

Saint Lawrence, give me strength to never shrink from firey blows - Saint Lawrence was executed by being burnt alive on a gridiron in 258 AD. Apocryphally, after being roasted for a little while, he cheerfully told his executioner, “Turn me over, I’m done on this side!” Patron saint of barbeque and comedians.

Saint Lucy, take my hand, keep my arm steady as it goes- Saint Lucy’s most famous story is that she wanted to become a nun, but instead her father married her off to a wealthy young Roman. To resist the marriage, she gouged out her own eyes to make herself no longer beautiful. Patron saint of blindness.

Saint Cassian, help me smile and ask for more pain than I’ve earned- Saint Cassian was a schoolmaster at Imola, who was condemned to death for teaching his pupils about Christianity. The judge ordered his pupils to stab him to death with their styli, and as they did so, he continued to give them pointers on how to stab him more effectively. Patron saint of educators.

Saint Jude, saint of hopeless causes…I hope your causes burn!- Saint Jude the apostle, who was martyred through beheading. Legend has it that, after he died, early Christians did not pray to Jude for fear of accidentally praying to Judas (Jesus’ betrayer), so he would take on any interventions sent his way. Patron saint of hopeless causes.

Costume-wise, us and our amazing designer Hahnji Jang went with a sort of “See No Evil, Speak No Evil, Hear No Evil” motif. Saint Lucy has eye gloves and eyes in their halo, echoing the traditional Catholic iconography of Saint Lucy holding a platter with her own eyes on it. Lawrence has wax coming from their ears and ears bejeweled onto their halo, and Jude has wax dripping from their throat. Jude also does not speak during the show at all- the implication being that all of the saints have cut off these parts of their bodies, like the hand and eye they ask from Quincy, to expiate their sin. Cassian doesn’t have anything because they represent more of a spokesperson for the saints- the one who ultimately means the most harm for Quincy, and the one who is consciously doing evil.

#quincy martin #quincy cynthius martin #adamandi #adamandi musical #adamandi saints #answered

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angelbutterfly-writes · 2 years

Text

How Long Will I Love You

He stands transfixed as she walks down the makeshift aisle, her arm looped around Commander West's as said man does his best to hold back his tears. Grey had been their first choice, of course, but who else would have made a better officiant for their more or less impromptu marriage.

Her boot clad feet lightly tread on the carpet, soft petals scattered by Nyla's daughters only moments before dancing between her feet while the orchestra from Smitty's phone echoes throughout the parking garage.

His eyes are solely on her, watching her every step, until she's finally before him.

"Lucy." Is his only whisper, his breath taken away by the sheer beauty of his wife-to-be, even as she stands in a dress more suited for a bridesmaid than a bride. "Lucy."

"Tim." She smiles back, eyeing his hand as it moves to brush a stray lock of hair away from her face. "T-"

"Excuse me, lovebirds." Grey cuts in, unable to wipe the smile off his face. "If you don't mind, we have a wedding to get through, and about 100 suspects to book once it's over."

"I do." Tim quickly replies, not having heard a single word Grey has said.

"I do." Lucy echoes, equally oblivious as the attendees double over laughing at the scene.

"Hold your horses." Grey shakes his head. "As much as we have been waiting for this day for years now, we haven't even started the service yet. So please, Sergeant and Detective, pay attention."

Tim tries to listen to his boss, does his best to catch the words slipping from the recently ordained minister, but he can't help but be enamored by the woman before him.

She could not look anymore angelic no matter how hard she tried. Her off-white-almost-yellow summer dress made it seem as if she were glowing, brightening her usual sunny features to the point that he wouldn't mind being blinded by her light. And her long dark hair cascaded down her back, tiny braids done up by Lopez not even an hour ago crowning her with a golden halo.

Resisting the urge to brush the stubborn strand of hair away again, he continues to gaze at his bride.

No matter how much they had insisted against it, four somethings had been incorporated into her ensemble. Something old came in the form of her old ring, one she had mentioned was an heirloom passed down from her grandmother to her on her eighteenth birthday, and the very same ring they both held dear to their hearts. Unbeknownst to the rest of their Mid-Wilshire family, he had slipped it out of her locker mid-shift and used it to propose to her not too long after. Just the sight of it now brings a smile to his face, and it's only the gentle tug of his hand that jerks him back to the present.

Something new on the other hand was a golden broach pinned right above her heart. It was a gift from Grey and Luna, a tradition of sorts that had begun during Lopez's second wedding. Angela's had been a cresent moon, representing her then newfound love for motherhood and her willingness to protect those she loves, while Nyla's was a star, symbolising how she had shined even in the darkest ops.

It came as no surprise to Tim that Lucy's was a sun just for how brightly she glows each and every day. He will later learn that Luna had a different meaning for it, one that reminded him how she brought the sunset to an old chapter of his life, and the sunrise to a new one.

Something borrowed however was a piece of jewellery Tim had never seen her without, a Saint Michael's medallion that rested lightly on her collarbone. It was the same one Jackson had worn all those years ago, and having passed on her own to Tamara, she had no intention of taking it off, not that Tim would mind. He'd willingly let her wear anything if it gave her even the slightest bit of protection in their all too dangerous job.

Finally, something blue were the ribbons that held her bouquet together, each one deftly tied to a sunflower and inscribed with their names, the names of the people she loved and those who loved her back. Tamara had taken great care in designing them and each was as unique as the person themselves.

Gazing back at her, Tim could only grin with the biggest of smiles. He's sure if anyone weren't paying attention to Grey, they would-

"Tim and Lucy have chosen to recite their own vows." Grey's voice suddenly cuts through his train of thought and he fumbles with his pockets, trying to find the piece of paper he had written his vows on.

When it finally falls to the floor, much to Lucy's and everyone else's amusement, he gives up.

Instead, he takes her hands in his, gazes his cool blue eyes into her warm brown orbs, and lets the rest of the world disappear.

How long will I love you? As long as stars are above you And longer if I can

"Lucy Chen, I promise to love you as long as there are stars in the sky, and longer if you'd let me."

How long will I need you? As long as the seasons need to Follow their plan

"Tim Bradford, I promise to always need you, to hold your hand throughout the seasons, in good times and bad."

How long will I be with you? As long as the sea is bound to Wash up on the sand

"I'll stand by your side even when it gets rough, share each and every dance with you even if it is on the beach with the sand falling in between our toes. I'll do anything for you, because I love you."

How long will I want you? As long as you want me to And longer by far

"I'll love you and cherish you as long as you'll have me. I'll always want you as my partner, be it in the shop, on the streets, in the ring, or anywhere. Anywhere you are is the place I want to be."

How long will I hold you? As long as your father told you As long as you can

"I will hold you as tightly as I can, Lucille Chen. I promise to keep you as close to me as possible and never let you go. You are my family, and you are my love."

How long will I give to you? As long as I live through you However long you say

"I give my life to you, Timothy Bradford, to live with you, to love you, to stand by your side. I am yours, now and forever. Till death do us part."

How long will I love you? As long as stars are above you And longer if I may

He caresses her cheek, his thumb lightly brushing a stray lock, and she leans into his touch. For a second their eyes meet, and just as that day many many moons ago, everything else disappears. In that moment, there is only them, and them alone.

It's just them in their shop... It's just them, heads bent over a desk, as they pore over their latest case, trying to piece it together... It's just them as they dance in their kitchen at night, swaying to the music in their heads... It's just them for the rest of their lives.

"I promise to love you." Tim gently moves the ring from her right to her left, before placing a soft kiss to the now bare finger. Ushering their Godson closer, he takes a new ring from the plush pillow, and slips it over her finger.

"I promise to love you." Lucy echoes as she mimics his movements, carefully placing the simple gold band onto his ring finger. And as she does so, all she can think of are the words engraved into the bands.

"To the end of the world." He recites the words from his band, gently running his thumb over the back of her hands, meaning every single word; and she doesn't hesitate with her own.

"Whenever that may be."

How long will I love you? As long as stars are above you

Smiling, Grey wipes away the tears from his eyes as he closes the book in his hands.

"By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

"Presenting Mr. and Mrs. Bradford-Chen."