#horizon custom machines | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rea-grimm · 17 days

Text

Sleep protector Zoro

Lately, you've been suffering from terrible nightmares. But you didn't understand why. You weren't under stress, there was nothing that particularly bothered you.

They came out of nowhere like a bolt from the blue. However, they were such nightmares that you were woken up by your own screams.

You didn't deal with it the first few days. You thought you'd get over it on your own. But that didn't happen. Instead, you started getting giant circles under your eyes, and sleep gave you no energy at all. Slowly, the people around you started to see it.

You had another long shift ahead of you and wondered how you were going to get through it. When it was a busy hour, it was fine. You didn't have time to think about being tired.

But when there were few guests, they were worse. How many times have you caught yourself leaning on your arm and your eyelids drooping?

But now it was such a more comfortable evening. Not a few people and not a lot of people. Such an ideal, when you managed to serve customers and your colleague unpacked the goods that arrived in the morning.

"Should I take off my shoes? So that you don't swallow me," your colleague asked you with a laugh as you covered your mouth and yawned. “Hey, if you want to take the day off, just say,” he smiled at you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

You just shook your head over it. You didn't need any time off. You've had enough. In addition, you were able to react well here at work.

"I understand, but if you ever wanted to chat over a glass or cup of coffee, I'm here for you," he said encouragingly, before returning to unpacking again.

"Look at this. Isn't he cute?” your colleague asked you as he placed a box of booze next to the bar that he wanted to refill. Shuffled among the bottles was a green teddy bear in a green coat with a red sash.

The teddy bear looked dishevelled. You took him in your hands when you noticed that one of his eyes was missing. The place had a stretchy scar in that place as if someone had sown it there.

"Keep him. Maybe this little fur ball will protect you from the nightmares,” he said with a smile as he levelled the bottles.

"If so, it would be a miracle," you answered sceptically, but you kept him anyway.

You returned home a little after 3 in the morning. You fell into bed and pulled your stuffed animal closer to you. For how dishevelled and rough he looked, he was surprisingly soft. After a long time, you fell asleep like nothing.

At first, it looked like you were going to wake up again because of the nightmare that was tyrannizing you. At worst, a young man in a green coat appeared there like a bolt from the blue with 3 swords and cut your night demons as if they were made of paper.

The night fury had dissipated, but new ones could be seen forming on the horizon. The young man assessed the situation and put away his swords before taking you in his arms and running away with you.

You had no idea where he was running and at one point you were afraid you were running towards them. You finally ran away from them and hid in a pub. On the one hand, it reminded you of the bar you worked in, and on the other hand, you knew deep down that it was a completely different bar.

You had no idea that you would sleep this well again. The nightmares were slowly disappearing, but they kept bothering you. The young man with the green hair always had to save you.

Thanks to him, you slowly learned to control your dreams at least partially. Or rather, you weren't just a meadow of your wild imagination, you were free to roam.

Thanks to this, you slept better and were full of energy during the day. You were even in the mood to go to the gym after a long time and elsewhere, where you haven't been able to get to recently.

In the end, you decided to go to the gym. You slipped into your sports clothes and went to the first machine.

You decided to try dumbbells too. You put on the weights and started lifting. You made it through a few sets when you started to feel tired.

However, you wanted to finish the set when you missed lifting it 3 times for the last time. You managed it with effort, but you had a lot to do to put the barbell back in the rack. You threatened to drop her on you.

You tried to throw her to the ground, but your hands slowly gave up. You feared the worst when some kind soul saved you. That someone grabbed the barbell and returned it to the supports with ease.

You breathed a sigh of relief and sat up. To your surprise, it was the same green-haired young man from your dreams. But now he was wearing black pants with a white T-shirt.

"Thanks, I thought it was my end," you thanked him.

"No problems. But you should be more careful next time," he replied before going his own way.

You took a moment to rest before heading to the next machine. This time on the treadmill. There weren't many women in the gym and you could feel other people's eyes on you. It was not very pleasant for you, but every time you turned around, they acted as if nothing had happened.

You sighed and focused on running instead. After a while, however, you started to feel their looks again. You wanted to yell at them when it was all over.

You looked over your shoulder and everyone was minding their own business. In doing so, you noticed a green-haired youth with a murderous expression on his face as he worked out on the opposite side. Whoever dared to look at you was met with a murderous look.

When you finished on the treadmill, you moved again to another machine. You noticed that the green-haired followed you here as well.

You felt like you had your own bodyguard the entire time you were in the gym. You had no idea why he was doing it, but he seemed so aware that you didn't even mind.

After some time when you decided to wrap it up for today, you went to the dressing room. You were changing when you heard the scream from the showers. You turned around just in time to see a green-haired with a face as red as a crayfish fleeing.

You giggled at that. You had no idea why, but you automatically knew it was an accident. That he just got slightly lost along the way.

You had a bar shift in the evening. You made the drinks and overall it was such a relaxed evening. You were serving one of the guests when out of the corner of your eye you saw a young man with green hair take a seat at the bar.

As soon as you served the guests in front of him, you went to him. You didn't even ask him what he would like and you immediately reached for a bottle of sake.

“One sake,” you smiled as you placed it in front of him. It wasn't until later that you realized you hadn't even asked him what he would like.

"It is good. This is what I wanted,” he said as if reading your mind. He gave you an encouraging smile before taking a drink.

You were a bit confused by this, you kept thinking about it. However, when you wanted to ask him what he meant, he was gone.

Thanks to your job, you very often worked late into the night or almost into the morning. You came home already tired and sleepy, it's a wonder you didn't fall asleep on the way.

You entered the house and headed to your bed after dark. You were walking around the couch when two strong hands grabbed you. You didn't protest because you knew who it was. That someone pulled you onto the couch and hugged you.

It happened that he rested his head on yours and then you fell asleep together. When you woke up in the morning, you were alone.

It always felt like a pleasant dream to you, even though you had the impression that you still smelled his scent for a while. However, instead of him, a green teddy bear was lying next to you.

As soon as you woke up, you knew it was going to be a bad day. You first woke up by falling out of bed and spent the whole morning looking for a green teddy bear.

You searched the entire bedroom and almost turned the entire apartment upside down. But he was nowhere. As if he had sunk into the ground.

You thought that made your bad luck go away as nothing out of the ordinary happened during the day.

The evening came and you went to work. However, you were still wondering where the teddy bear had gone. The shift went smoothly like clockwork and everything indicated that it would be a classic evening.

Your friend finished the last of the dishes and you went to lock up when someone grabbed your arms and you felt a knife blade against your neck.

"Don't try anything. Now go inside and you give me all the money. You understand?" the man asked you.

“Yeah,” you breathed. You were afraid that if you nodded in agreement, he would cut you.

“Good. Now move!” he commanded. You led him inside. You understood from the steps that other people were following him. This was seriously a douchebag day.

"Hello, handsome. All the money here, or there will run blood! ” he commanded as you entered. When your colleague saw this, he turned completely pale in this, his hands were tied.

"And hands up! I don't want you accidentally pressing some smart button that will alert the cops!” he added.

Your friend nodded his head in agreement and immediately put his hands up. He didn't want anything to happen to you. He walked over to the cash register and opened it in front of them. Another man walked over to him with a bag of money.

However, before he could take the money out of the cash register, the door burst open and a green-haired young man stood panting in them.

“Finally found it,” he said before frowning. “Hey look Y/N let go! ” he growled dangerously, went inside and closed the door behind him.

"Hold your horses. For now, I'm the one who is holding hostage!” the man who was holding you by the neck snapped at him.

"Zoro!" you called to him pleadingly, fear in your eyes. After that, the man pressed down on your neck until a faint trickle of blood appeared on your skin.

That was the only sign Zoro needed. Out of nowhere, he pulled out three swords, one of which he held with his teeth.

“Hey, don't try any bullshit,” the brute warned him and took a step back with you. His minions rose before him with their weapons aimed at the swordsman.

However, he only frowned more before running towards the brutes. It was a short fight, there was shooting, but the only ones who fell to the ground were the brutes. Zoro stood in front of you with a drawn sword, the tip of which was a millimetre from the neck of the man holding you.

"If you don't want to lose your head, give up! ” he growled at him and by his expression he meant it dead serious. The brute looked at his men writhing in pain on the ground and then at Zoro.

Finally, he pushed you in the swordsman's direction and ran away. Zoro caught you but turned to face the bastard, who he hit in the back of the head with the blunt side of his sword. The man froze before falling to the ground.

You were relieved it was over as soon as Zoro put away his swords you hugged him. He was your solid point that you could rely on.

“I'm so glad you showed up,” you breathed. Zoro wrapped one arm around your waist and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with the other. He has never seen you so scared and upset before. You weren't shaken out like this even before the nightmares.

“Thanks for the rescue, but who are you? Y/N’s boyfriend?” your colleague asked walking over to you. He already had a phone with the police number ready in his hand.

"I'm her protector," Zoro replied, though he paused for a moment.

“Sure,” your colleague smiled as he could see how things were between you two. Or so he thought. He then went outside to call the police and wait for them.

"How is it possible?" you asked him as the two of you found alone at the bar. "I thought you were just a dream."

“Do you remember the promise I made to you when I first saved you?” he asked instead, looking into your eyes. You nodded your head in agreement. That was the first time he saved you from a nightmare.

"I promised you that I would protect you. I'm your protector and that doesn't only apply in dreams, but also here," he said surprisingly softly as he caressed your cheek.

“Thank you,” you replied and kissed him softly in return. When you pulled away, you saw him momentarily lost for words and blushing. Finally, he smiled mischievously and asked for one more. After all, he just saved your life today. Literally.

You just giggled at that before obliging him. However, the next kiss was much longer as Zoro took the initiative.

After that, you went outside together to wait for the police to arrive. It was a long and challenging day. You stood to the side and Zoro hugged you from behind. You leaned on him and you felt safe. Before you knew it and before the police arrived, you fell asleep.

Zoro not only supports you so you don't fall but also protects you so no one wakes you up. Anyone who wanted to talk to you or accidentally wake you up was met with such a stern look that everyone gave up. Not even the police could do anything against him.

When they finally left, Zoro took you home. He was able to get there without getting lost because that place was directly connected to you. He carried you carefully so you wouldn't wake up. At your house, he put you to bed and lay there with you.

Zoro Masterlist

Sleep Protector Masterlist

#one piece #one piece x reader #monster piece #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #sleep protector #sleep protector zoro #teddy bear #zoro

138 notes · View notes

cicadaknight · 3 months

Text

wishlist for horizon 3:

more interactivity with the focus ui (solving holo puzzles, ui menus, holo calls with companions, listening to music, viewing data points and found content through the focus etc.)

aloy has outgrown her lone wolf tendencies, i wanna see her asking for help and company in her travels. super unlikely, but i would kill to have a party option where you can explore and fight with the squad.

customizing overriden mounts. (paint, armor, decor, names)

some element of choice with upgrading gear and weapons. rather than just having it be a linear set of upgrades, being able to choose between several unique mechanics or benefits. (i know the coils and skill tree basically function like this, so it would probably be more about functionality)

improving the ui for potions/traps/utilities. with everything they added in hfw and the dlc, there's no way in hell you can easily tap through 40+ utilities to find the right one in the heat of battle. it's so clunky compared to the rest of the system

removing tattoos from armor. like come on now, no way aloy's getting tattoos without it being a major choice. it's tacky and weird to use culturally significant tattoos as changeable decoration.

a main trans character who's entire dialogue and story isn't "everyone told me i was weird for wearing different armor or wanting to fight. so i became a cop." cannot get over how the tenakth, quen, and banuk have no real gender roles/limitations in their cultures, and yet...

insectoid machines! i wanna fly on a giant bee! throw hands with a metal praying mantis!

finally finding out who invaded the embrace, what happened to rost on his murderous hunt

#and obviously i want aloy to give kotallo a sea shell and all the other cute shit for each character #and of course i would like more smooches #that's a given #hfw #horizon forbidden west #h

46 notes · View notes

karriethemechtech · 5 days

Text

Drawing Blanks

Exhausted. That’s what Karrie was. Exhausted. It had been months since she last strode into combat—let alone dropped from orbit—and she felt it. And as she limped her custom Awesome back from the frontlines, she knew it could feel it too; every day clung to them like cigarette smoke. Images flashed through her mind—the crackle of PPC fire, the roaring scream of a hyper-assault gauss rifle, the dying screams of Blakists over the comms. All of it was saved in the Old Girl’s BattleROM, and as they walked it saw fit to show them to her over and over again. She grumbled and willed the machine to change the subject. Thanks, but no thanks, she thought. I’ll think about that later.

As she did so, the warning lights started up again, and across her Neurohelmet’s view a dozen errors popped in and out of existence. She drew up her focus and forced them to come by one at a time—the armor was completely compromised in the left arm and torso, noted; the heat sinks were overtaxed and some of the wiring had fused, of course; some of the myomers had snapped in the right leg, along with a busted lower leg actuator, which would be why she was limping so badly. She looked to the weapons—one PPC’s focusing array had been busted by a missile, but the rest were operating at battle-ready efficiency, if relatively light on ammunition and cooling capacity. The engine, now leaking heat as its containment fields struggled against the glowing plasma within, nonetheless surprised her with its performance. Clanspec engines really are well put together. Even when they’re an XL….

Splayed across her ‘Mech’s side view was an impromptu lance of wounded ‘Mechs—a Highlander on the heavier side, with two of the SLDF’s mediums in tow. She seemed to be in better shape than they were—smoke billowed from the Highlander’s torso, and the rest of the ‘Mechs…ugh. It occurred to Karrie that normally she would be able to identify them, were she not in a poor state. Maybe the Neural Link is damaged, she thought, heart sinking. That would explain why I can’t…can’t think.

Her command instincts took over, and she called for a sound-off over the radio.

“Aff, Warrant Officer. I show damage on my readouts, but I will live,” responded the Highlander’s pilot. The other pilots quickly followed suit.

“We doin’ ok then?” she asked. “I mean, as people. That’s a rough thing to drop in on, yeah?”

“…aff,” the pilot replied unconvincingly.

“Hey, look. You’re not dealing with another Clanner, you can tell me.” She winced as the words left her mouth. Not the right thing to say….

“Aff. A fact you remind me of with far more than words, Warrant Officer. Must I remind you that, were it not for the General’s favor, I should be the one ordering you around?”

“…sorry. Didn’t mean to cause any offense.”

“Yet you do.”

“I do.”

“Keep the air clear for important information. I will not answer you again.”

“…a-aye, sir,” Karrie forced. A cold silence filled the airwaves, leaving Karrie alone with the wheezing hum of the Old Girl’s damaged engine.

She could see the forward base on the horizon. A trio of DropShips had touched down full of support staff and equipment, and temporary structures were just beginning to be assembled. Barely visible people bustled like ants, coolant trucks and SupportMechs close in tow. It was relieving. It was also rapidly coming up, and she hadn’t identified them yet.

As if on time, a crackly voice spoke over the radio. “This is forward base Omaha to incoming lance, please identify. Repeat, Omaha to incoming BattleMech lance, please identify.”

“Warrant Officer Karrie DeLacey with three SLDF ‘Mechs in tow. One Highlander, two…” she replies. “…shoot, two…”

“Repeat, Warrant Officer DeLacey? You cut off.”

A bolt of panic shot through Karrie’s mind. Why couldn’t she identify the ‘Mechs? That was her job! As if to answer her, the Old Girl’s TRO computer squealed, and a shaky readout appeared in her view. “Sorry,” she said quickly. “One Highlander, two Raptor II’s inbound, in need of repairs.”

“Aff, Warrant Officer DeLacey. Three MechBays are being prepared. Approach at your convenience. Keep us informed if you need firefighting assistance.”

“Aye.” She flipped a switch to broadcast only to the ‘Mechs around her. “Alright, we’ve been given clearance to approach. You guys’ll get repairs, a little bit of rest for your injuries, and then we’ll get right back out there,” Karrie said as they walked.

Gradually, the base came closer and further into focus for the wounded lance. The DropShips became towering, egg-shaped behemoths, looming over the ‘Mechs—almost enough to scare you.

“Warrant Officer DeLacey, you have made a mistake,” the Highlander’s pilot called, snapping Karrie suddenly back to reality.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“By the Founder, you are a fool. There are only three MechBays prepared for us.”

Karrie’s blood ran ice cold. “So there are….”

“You are to stand watch. I and the Raptor IIs will receive repairs.”

Karrie flushed blood-red within the safe walls of her cockpit. “A-aye. You lot all get in there—I’ll keep ya safe, eh?”

“Warrant Officer, try to maintain a veneer of competency? Now come. The bays are open.”

Karrie sat in the ringing silence of her cockpit.

“Aye.”

#battletech #mechwarrior

14 notes · View notes

partikron · 7 months

Text

Armored Core Gets in Your Head

Armored Core VI lives in my brain in a way no other game has recently.

Since finishing AC VI I've played through a couple other games, but it's always there in the back of my mind. I'll be playing Horizon Forbidden West taking down a Slitherfang, and I suddenly want nothing more than to fight the Ice Worm again. Every fight against a big machine gives me the itch to take on a Cataphract or Balteus all over again.

I'll be at work helping a customer, but I'm endlessly thinking about how cool the descent to the Overed Rail Cannon was, or I'll be listening to corporate video lectures and getting flashbacks to Dafeng asking me to wreck some Arquebus tech.

FromSoftware games always do this to me, but Armored Core VI is basically a whole section of my brain now.

#armored core #armored core 6 #armored core vi #armored core series #fires of rubicon #mecha #mech #scifi #science fiction #video games

45 notes · View notes

mathmusicninja · 1 year

Text

TMNT Fic and Comic Recs

An ongoing list. Feel free to drop more in the notes!

(tw: strong language for the majority of these. Mind the tags and be safe!)

AO3 Authors:

T33la, (mostly ’03 with a heavy IDW influence), anything they write is great—a little spooky at times, but always with lots of comfort in the end. Personal favorite at the moment: “The Gauntlet” (but all of their stuff is seriously so good)

Flynne, (mostly ’03), I’m still reading all of their stuff (lots of one-shots with a few longer fics), but liking what I see so far, lots of really good hurt/comfort. Personal favorite fic at the moment: “Collector”

Halogalopaghost (halogalopaghost), (’03), mostly one-shots to fill in between the lines of canon. Personal favorite fic at the moment: “Doctor On Call”

AO3 Fics:

"Pretend that I Never Left" by redstringraven (sirimiri), ('03 x HZD), tw violence, during the Ultimate Drako fiasco, Mikey is taken to a different reality where animal-like machines roam the land and people live in tribes. Technically a crossover with Horizon Zero Dawn but no prior knowledge of the game is necessary! Mikey-centric long fic

"How to accidentally kidnap yourself several times over" by Camildeni, (Rise x '03 x '12 x Bayverse), instead of getting himself out of a sticky situation, Rise!Mikey accidentally brings more of himself into it. Very fun and creative

"Looking for a Furr-Ever Home" by The67ImpalaDragonChild, ('03), each of the boys gains a new companion through various means. Adorable, also has hurt/comfort and holiday feels

"Little Kid with a Big Death Wish" by remrose, (Rise), tw dissociation and suicide attempt, Leo-centric recovery fic after the movie, very well written and focuses on non-linear (but upward!) healing. Can be intense at some parts. Excellent hurt/comfort

“I May Be Invisible, But I Still Look Good” by Dandy (@dandylovesturtles), (Rise), Leo gets mystically separated from his body and his brothers go through a lot to get him back. Dandy also has other Rise one-shots that I enjoyed (especially “Tapping Out”)

"Underdark" by Nekotsuki, '03, Mikey-centric, a bit of a whump fic but with a happy ending, very well written and one I go back to a lot

“A Tale of Spirits” by unorthodoxx (@\unorthodoxx-page), (Rise x atla), I don’t usually do cross-fandom fics like this, but this one works for me. The Rise boys end up in the atla universe because of mystic stuff and no one believes them when they say they aren’t magic spirits.

“Ghost in the Shell” (’03 x Rise), “Fusions” (’12), “The Great Skittle Heist of 2105” (’03 au), and the “Please Just Let Them Hug” series (’03 canon compliant one-shots) by AmevelloBlue (@\amevello-blue). Good hurt/comfort

“Carapace” by SkeletalConstellation (@\kettle-bird), a Rise fic based on some events in the IDW comics

“Picking up the Pieces” by Andromedabrown, GalacticDreamer, ParvumAutomaton, (Rise) pretty long but has very intricate plot. Leo accidentally ends up mystically connected to his shattered sword and his brothers go on a wild adventure to get him back

“The Last Ronin Becomes a Discord Admin” by MelonPalooza (@\melonpalooza), (’03 x ’12 x Rise), a classic in the fandom. Has some great humor and drama. Also has a one-off crossover with “Ghost in the Shell” that was a wild ride.

“Sanctuary” by RealityBreakGirl, (’03), just a nice and fluffy one-shot, Donnie and Raph centric

“A truly French experience” by Get_dunked_off, (Rise), one-shot of Leo defending Hueso’s honor from rude customers

"Ice Cream Makes Everything Better" by mathmusic8 (yours truly :D), ('03), a series of canon compliant one shots to fill in some comfort gaps for the '03 show

"Wow, What a Coincidence" by mathmusic8 (me again ^.^), ('03 x '12 x Rise), a separated AU where the '03 boys get lost and each raise one of the Rise kids and then the kids all end up in the same summer camp. The '12 boys are camp councilors. Rise-centric. Crack fic treated seriously

Tumblr Comics:

“Cass Apocalyptic Series” by @\somerandomdudelmao, (Rise), fandom classic, bad future timeline comic, this series (the “Can you carry your uncles” episode in particular) got me interested in tmnt in the first place, canon compliant

“Aftermath” (also on AO3) by @\happyfoxx-art, (Rise), aftermath of the Rise movie, very good hurt comfort (no language!)

“Replica” by @\kathaynesart, (Rise), fandom classic, bad future timeline comic, canon compliant

“2 Arms Left” by @\intotheelliwoods, (Rise), the softest peepaw au in existence (until it isn't--mind the tags for later comics)

Tblsomedoodles (@\tblsomedoodles) does a combo of comics and fics, mostly Rise but also ’03. Has some adorable Rise x ’03 AUs

"Swantello" by @\tangledinink, (Rise), a rottmnt x swan lake crossover we didn't know we wanted

"Krang Infection" by @\abbeyofcyn, (Rise), set a year after the movie. Donnie gets a krang parasite that makes him go feral turtle for a while

"Unmutated Donnie" by @\onejellyfishplease, (Rise), Donnie ends up as an unmutated softshell turtle but keeps his brain. Very cute, fun, and Donnie's snoot is the best thing on the planet XD

"Kid Leo Au" by @\angelpuns, (Rise), when Leo came out of the prison dimension he accidentally turns himself into a kid, very cute and has good hurt/comfort feels

@\heckitall has a bunch of mini comics (mostly Rise, some '03): Masterpost. Also check out "What will it be" by clandestineclairvoyant for a fanfic of heckitall's "Same as it Never Will Be" comic!

#fic rec #comic rec #tmnt fic rec #tmnt comic rec #sorry for the tags y'all #mathmusicninja talks

62 notes · View notes

gasolineghuleh · 10 months

Text

A Comfortable Evening At Home

Commission for my best friend @mastercopia.

After a hard day at work, you go home to find Papa waiting for you with your favourite evening routine together: a shower, a face wash, and some crap television.

Fully SFW.

The watch on your wrist ticks time away with all the speed of molasses through cold water. Another sigh passes your lips as you look out the window of your coffee shop, watching the sun just begin to dip down the horizon. It’s only 5 PM, but the Winter nights are making it get darker sooner and sooner. Not for the first time, you find yourself wishing for the comfort of home, and the arms of your favorite anti-pope.

Ever since you started dating the newly ascended Papa when he was still a Cardinal, the two of you have had an evening ritual before bed: A small glass of chardonnay if the mood calls for it, a tandem shower, a comforting facial care routine, and some cuddling on the couch while you watch your favorite shows together. When you remember that you’re stuck here for another hour you sigh again, closing your eyes briefly and feeling bad for yourself.

“Excuse me?” Your eyes fly open in response to the question, finally appraising the person in front of you at the counter. The apology falls quickly from your lips as you straighten yourself fully, back into your perfect customer service mode. You’ve been at this job for almost two years now, and it feels like slipping into a second skin at this point. “Are you still open for business? I was hoping to get a hot chocolate for the walk home.” The woman at the counter glances outside, where the wind has already started to pick up slightly into what bodes as a strong Winter storm on the horizon.

“Of course, of course! One hot chocolate!” As you ring her up, you can’t help but notice her eyes looking at you scrutinizingly. When she points surreptitiously to the necklace hanging between your breasts, you smile. “Ave Sathanas, Sister.” The standard greeting of the Church falls from your lips before you can second guess yourself, and it’s comforting when she immediately seems to recognize the phrase.

“And in His light,” the customer replies to you with a wink, clearly showing that she’s been to the Abbey services at least once. The machine dings and you turn to retrieve the full cup of hot chocolate, swirling a small squirt of whipped cream on top of it before handing it to the girl at the counter. You smile gratefully when you notice that she’s slipped a large bill into your tip can.

The other Sister leaves after tossing you one more wink, making her way to the door of the coffee shop and opening it by bracing her shoulder against the door. A blast of cold air comes through the door and you shiver slightly when it reaches you. By the time you’ve warmed up again the girl is long since gone, and even the bell tinkling from the door has stilled. The time passes slowly and finally by the time you look down at your watch again, it’s time to close up shop for the evening.

Closing up doesn’t take you nearly as long as you expected it to because of the lack of customers today, something that you’ve decided to now see as a blessing, but felt like torture at the time. By the time it’s half past the hour you’ve already cleaned and put everything away for the evening and are finally counting the till when your phone dings. You drag it out of your back pocket and light up the screen, smiling when you see that it’s your love, Papa Emeritus the Fourth.

“Home to me soon?” the text reads, short and simple, but you know he’s obviously missing you as much as you’re missing him. All of these years together, from Archbishop to Cardinal and then from Cardinal to Papa, you’ve been through it all with him. You smile and text him back quickly with one hand while you untie your apron with the other and sling it over your shoulder.

“On my way. Bad day. We relax when I get home?” Your text is short and to the point, and his response is shorter still: “Of course.”

You shoulder your way through the front door of the cafe and lock it behind you, a smile already spreading on your face when you consider who’s home waiting for you. Even now, even after all the two of you have been through, he’s still there for you. You can practically feel the warmed soap on your cheeks already, and slipping into your car and putting into gear is quickened along by just the thought.

The drive through the snow-dusted city streets is slow and almost serene. The flakes fall softly from the darkening sky, illuminated by the glow of the streetlights as they touch down. There’s hardly anyone else out driving at this time, which only heightens the sense of solitude you feel in the car. The only sound breaking the silence is the soft hum of the engine and the low, rhythmic beat of the heater.

Your phone buzzes again, drawing your attention to the screen momentarily. It's another message from Papa Emeritus the Fourth. "Safe travels, love. The house is warm and the wine is poured." A smile creases your face as you glance back to the road. He always knows how to brighten your day.

By the time you pull into the driveway of the Abbey’s lot for Siblings, the snow has started to fall more heavily. It dusts your hair and coat as you make your way to the back door, a shiver running down your spine as the cold wind picks up. You hurry inside, taking a moment to shake off the cold before removing your coat and heading down the hallway towards the Papal suites. The two of you moved into the youngest Emeritus brother’s room at the beginning of last year, and slowly but surely it was beginning to feel like HIS.

The chambers are warm and inviting. The sound of crackling from the living room indicates a fire has been lit, casting an inviting glow throughout the stone rooms. And there he is, your Papa, his all-black vestments exchanged for comfortable evening wear, sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in hand, waiting patiently for your return.

"Welcome home, love," he greets you, a soft smile on his face. You respond with a relieved sigh, shrugging off your coat and coming to join him on the couch. He wraps his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before handing you the already poured glass of chardonnay. It’s sweet and pleasant on your tongue with an undertaste of vanilla and chilled just enough to be refreshing without being cold— just the way that you like it.

You nestle into his side, savoring the warmth of the fire and the comfort of his presence. He stays silent, allowing you the peace and quiet you so desperately crave after a long day. His hand rests reassuringly on your knee, thumb rubbing in comforting circles that threatens to lull you to sleep if you aren’t careful.

You sit like that for a while, just soaking in each other's company before you finally break the silence. "I love you, Papa," you whisper, looking up to meet his gaze. His smile is tender and genuine, reaching his eyes as he replies, "I love you too, my heart."

And in that moment, all the hardships of the day seem to melt away. You have him, and he has you, and as the snow continues to fall outside, you realize there's no place you'd rather be. Tonight, you're not just the employee of a coffee shop. Tonight, you're the loved one of Papa Emeritus the Fourth. Tonight, the two of you have a date with some goat's milk soap and a hand towel in the cavernous hall the Abbey calls a bathroom.

Your evening ritual with Papa Emeritus the Fourth is a beautifully choreographed routine, honed to perfection after countless nights together. It begins the moment you step into the large, marble-tiled bathroom, its sleek, polished surface echoing the understated elegance of its occupants. The room is already awash with warmth from the shower steam and the glow of flickering candles placed strategically around the room, their light dancing on the walls and casting a soft, inviting glow.

Papa takes the lead, his hands unerringly finding the bottle of vanilla-scented soap. The smell is intoxicating, reminiscent of your earlier shared drink, comforting and familiar, an essential part of the fabric of your shared moments. He pours a generous amount onto a plush, sponge-like loofah, its bright hue a stark contrast against the marble background. As he works the soap into a rich lather, the air fills with a comforting bouquet, a symphony of sweet fruitiness, layered with subtle undertones of oak and vanilla, a memory of sun-drenched vineyards and aged wine barrels.

He then guides you under the warm shower stream, your skin instantly appreciating the perfect temperature that you've come to expect. The tension in your muscles starts to release, your body responding to the enveloping warmth. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the exquisite pleasure that is about to come. Papa loves washing your body with his favourite soaps, indulging in feeling every curve and line of your body under his hands— your body, under his eyes, feels like the most perfect marble sculpture.

His strong hands, skilled and gentle, make their first contact with your skin, the soft loofah loaded with the aromatic soap following suit. He begins at your shoulders, the firm yet tender strokes of the loofah kneading the tension out of your muscles, leaving only warmth and relaxation in its wake. His methodical motions create an exquisite friction that not only cleanses but also gently exfoliates your skin, removing the grime and fatigue of the day.

As the vanilla-scented soap meets your skin, it feels like velvet, like a satin blanket being drawn across your body. Its bubbles burst on your skin, their tiny pops a symphony of sensation that sends delightful shivers up and down your spine. The fruity scent of the soap becomes more potent, filling your nostrils and creating a warm, enveloping cloud around you. It's the smell of home, of your shared moments, of him.

He methodically works his way down your back, every stroke making you more aware of the changing texture of your skin, from the roughness of the day to the polished smoothness that the soap brings. His hands, strong and sure, navigate the familiar terrain of your body with a lover's knowledge, no corner left unattended, no area left untouched by the luxurious lather.

Once the ritual is complete, and your skin is shining and rejuvenated under the soft, flickering light, you rinse off under the warm water. The soap washes away with a silky fluidity, leaving your skin feeling soft and supple. By the time you step out of the shower, towel-dried and glowing, you feel renewed. Every part of you feels pampered, from the crown of your head to the soles of your feet. Your body feels lighter, your skin softer, and your spirit uplifted, ready for the comfort of his arms and the promise of another shared evening.

“Papa?” you ask as you towel your face off gently, daubing at the wet patches of your cheeks.

“Si, si, the show list is already on the TV, amore. I will join you in a moment, I just have a quick letter to send with a Ghoul, eh? Ah, and the fireplace.” You perk up at the mention of getting to choose the show tonight, grinning ear to ear and practically skipping back to the bedroom. The room is dim, lit only by a couple of table lamps and the silvery glow of the moon streaming in through the bay windows, turning the room into a space of comfort and warmth.

The bed is large, with a plush mattress that’s always welcoming after a long day. It's neatly made, the sheets fresh and crisp from the laundry, carrying a faint scent of the lavender fabric conditioner you both love. A large, flat-screen TV is mounted on the wall across the bed, the only modern intrusion in the room's classical decor. It’s already lit up and paused on your show, the remote laying perfectly on top of your pillow as though it was being presented.

By the time you’ve gotten situated and comfortable on the giant bed he’s already joined you, pajama bottoms slung low on his hips. The silk sheets feel cool against your skin at first but gradually they warm up, cocooning you in softness. He wraps an arm around you as you snuggle against him, your head finding its usual spot on his shoulder. The feeling of his skin against yours, warm and smooth from the shower, is a sensation that never gets old.

Papa takes the remote, scrolling through your shared list of favorite shows. You've got a variety of options, ranging from thought-provoking documentaries to lighthearted sitcoms, some being shared favorites, while others are a result of individual preferences. Tonight, however, you both settle on an old favorite, a cozy crime series you’ve watched numerous times but never tire of.

As the show begins, the soft, familiar tune of the opening credits fills the room. The light from the screen flickers across your faces, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow. The characters you've grown to love appear one by one on the screen, their familiar faces and voices adding to the sense of comfort and contentment.

Throughout the show, you share silent laughter, gasps, and knowing glances, all the reactions that come naturally when you’re engrossed in something you love. His fingers idly trace patterns on your arm, a subconscious act that’s as comforting as the rhythm of his breathing against your cheek.

The TV casts a hypnotic, wavering glow on the room, the characters playing out their stories as you and Papa settle further into the warmth of your bed. Your eyelids become heavy, the soothing cadence of the dialogues lulling you towards sleep. You're cocooned in warmth, the cool silk sheets, his comforting presence, and the familiar television show combining to create a perfect end to your evening.

As you start drifting off to sleep, Papa lowers the volume, casting a tender glance your way. His fingers gently brush away a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch as soft as a whisper. And in this quiet moment, as the day fades into the night and another episode plays on the screen, you know there's nowhere else you'd rather be. You're exactly where you're meant to be, in the arms of the man you love, your world shrinking down to this quiet, shared moment.

44 notes · View notes

silverstonesainz-archive · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕

MASTERLIST

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; and the days keep rolling forward 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 9.2k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; explicit language

tuesday

It’s been about a week since Pierre has seen Ellie. Sophie has done her best to try and go back to her normal routines, to pretend like it didn’t happen and that it hasn’t bothered her.

But it’s hard.

Sophie sighs softly to herself, making her way down to the shop just before eight, with Ellie on her hip. She twists the key, unlocking the shop and flicking on the lights of the small room. She sets her daughter down in her playpen before doing the morning procedures.

There’s something therapeutic about the first hour of business, the quiet of the store hugging her as she moves expertly around her shop. The feeling of watching the chaos of the day before being wound back up, the colors lining up perfectly and scraps of thread and fabric disappearing. She thinks back to when she was pregnant, the early mornings spent in the empty shop with her daughter keeping her company. What used to be kicks in her swollen belly, are now soft babbles echoing softly in the room. Elise has always kept her company in these quiet mornings, and she wouldn’t change a thing about it.

The hour goes by quietly. Teddy arrives only two minutes past nine, drink carrier with two coffees in one hand, and her ipad in the other. Her hair is tied up and out of her face, glasses sitting at the edge of her nose. Sophie offers her a smile, and Teddy mumbles a good morning. She sets her stuff down by her table before walking over to Sophie to give her her tea.

“How’ve you been?”

“Better.”

“Anything new?”

Sophie shakes her head and Teddy nods. The young girl turns on her heel and returns to her work station, slowly undoing the work her boss did not too long ago. Sophie moves behind the counter, plopping onto the chair to watch her daughter play with a block in her playpen. There’s a brief moment of what she can only describe as ease. It only lasts a couple of seconds, but it’s nice. Ellie looks up at her mom, a grin on her face as she holds up the block to hand to her. She mumbles a thanks, taking the block from the little girl and setting it on her lap. They play this quiet game of Ellie handing her blocks in exchange for one she handed Sophie earlier for a couple of minutes before the door chimes jingle and she has to turn away.

The day goes by in a blur. Sophie goes through the motions of the life she’s lived the last two years. Stitch after stitch, different colors of fabric and thread, the pile of buttons she still had yet to sort through, it all whips past her. She doesn’t register the two customers that did eventually stop by, letting Teddy deal with them as she continues to push the material through the machine. The only moments of clarity in her day is when she looks at her daughter, when she picks her up and sits her on her lap. Ellie is her anchor, the only reason why she’s seemed to hold onto reality for as long as she has.

Sophie watches the sun set from the balcony of her apartment later that day, she watches as the sun begins to kiss the skyline, disappearing behind buildings and greenery. There’s a piece of her that wishes to go with the sun, to sink further and further beyond the horizon and to light a new place.

Ellie babbles behind her, and when she turns her head she sees her daughter pulling herself up onto her feet with the help of her crib. She wobbles, knees giving out and then she’s right back on her bum. She looks up at her mother for reassurance, and Sophie smiles.

“You got it baby,” She coos softly, walking back into the room. She plops by her daughter, rubbing her back softly, “Want mama to help?”

Her daughter shakes her head up and down, and Sophie smiles. She helps her daughter up onto her feet again, guiding her hands to grasp the bars of her crib. Slowly, she retracts her hold, palms still facing her daughter’s body in case she needs to break her fall. Ellie wobbles ever so slightly, but she finds her balance. Sophie cheers softly, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek before showering her in praise.

It’s another moment of clarity. Watching her daughter pull herself up onto her feet is enough to make her heart feel warm and forget the turmoil of her reality beyond the confines of her little studio apartment in Kamari. She likes this version of her story, the one where it’s just her and Ellie. No worry about who dad is, and what would happen if dad did see her.

She soaks in the moment, just her and her daughter in a little apartment outside of the city. She thinks about the dream she is living, and that she gets to live it with another piece of her. She’s proving to herself that she’s more than her mother made her out to be, that she is leading a happier life– even with baby daddies all in the mix. Sophie smiles to herself, watching as her daughter bounces herself up and down, soft uh uh uh’s all while she does so.

She wonders how long this quiet will last. If she’ll ever feel this way again, the sense of true serenity, even with all the noise. Because that’s what the rest of the world is. Noise.

There was a time when she loved the noise. She loved the chaos, the messiness, the feeling of falling and not worrying about where she might land. It was a false sense of security, a bit of naivety even, on her part. Always looking at all the good, ignoring the bad lurking in the corner. She’s always been one to focus on the sunshine and rainbows, nevermind the dark cloud that looms.

Ellie falls back onto her bum, tired from standing. Sophie hums softly as she turns her daughter and hands her a stuffed giraffe. She watches quietly, watches the way Ellie holds the stuffed animal close to her chest. It’s reminiscent of the way her mother would clutch her against her chest, full of love and relief. Sophie leans down to press a kiss against her daughter’s messy curls.

The door knob jiggles and opens, Mick sticking his head through the cracked open door before fully stepping in and smiling. He holds out a plastic bag with styrofoam takeout containers. It smells heavily of garlic and basil, it fills the small space of the studio apartment quickly. Sophie inhales deeply, exhaling with a content sigh.

“Mick Schumacher, you know how to make my day.”

wednesday

Pierre sits in the plush seat of the hotel cafe, anxiously bouncing his leg up and down as he nibbles on the cuticle of his thumb. He stares at his phone, waiting for a call or text that might never come. It’s been this way for a week. He wakes up, hoping that there would be an unknown number on his screen, maybe a text with Sophie’s name attached to it, something to give him a bit of hope that he’d have a chance at… at anything. He knows he’s fucked up a good thing, that he’s soiled any kind of relationship he could have with Sophie, but there’s a part of him that holds on to the possibility of having a relationship with his daughter.

And the possibility that that little girl is his daughter.

Charles had worked long and hard to talk him off that ledge, reminding him that he truly knows nothing. But there’s a nagging feeling that sits in his chest. It squeezes his heart, tugs on it. Maybe it’s blind hope like Charles said, but Pierre likes to think it’s more than that. The feeling is much like someone clutching a magnet just above a metal surface. There’s a pull, tension between the two elements, begging to be stuck to the other, if not for the vice grip that holds it back. Pierre wants to think that it’s more than hopeless hope. It has to be.

He doesn’t notice the waitress setting his hot drink down, or the way the top buttons of her uniform are now undone. She stands there for a second more, hoping the gentleman would spare her a glance, flash her those pretty blue eyes. But nothing. Pierre is too focused on his screen, thumb still between his front teeth. The waitress huffs, turning on her heel and stomping back to her place behind the counter.

Pierre only looks up at the sound of a deep chuckle, index finger immediately pressing down on the power button to lock his screen.

“The barista has the hots for you mate.”

Pierre furrows his brow, “Sorry?”

The man flicks his chin over at the girl who is now taking another order, a slightly disgruntled look on her face as she punches the order into the register. He lets a short breath out of his nose, sitting up in his chair and putting his phone down on the table, screen up.

“Not my type.” He holds his hand out, “Pierre Gasly, Chief Investment Officer of Alpine Corporations.”

“It’s a pleasure Mr. Gasly. I’m Max Verstappen, senior engineer at RBR Engineering. But please, call me Max.”

“Please, Pierre is fine.”

They share a firm handshake before they sit opposite of each other. Pierre lets Max take the lead, allowing him to show him facts and figures, and sketches and ideas he clearly worked hard on. Had it been any other day, under any other circumstance, he would’ve given more to the conversation. He’d be giving input, asking for changes and talking about a vision of grandeur. But his mind was far from hotel renovations. They sit with Sophie and her baby girl in their little apartment, pondering over what they were doing at that moment. He tries to imagine the baby smiling, trying to imagine what her laugh might sound like.

“Pierre?”

The sound of his name pulls him from his thoughts. “Sorry, could you repeat?”

Max nods, pulling out a sheet of paper he had just put away. He points to the graphic again, re-explaining the point he was trying to make. Pierre nods, hands rubbing his beard roughly as he tries to comprehend what is being explained to him for the sake of saving face and not asking the man to repeat for the third time.

“I see…” Pierre hums, pulling the paper closer to him, “I mean, it’s a good idea but I just don’t think it’s cohesive with what our company wants to do. I’ll show it to my boss though, maybe we can come to a compromise.”

Max smiles, “Sounds good. You can keep that copy, I have another in my room.”

Pierre mumbles a thanks, slipping the sheet of paper into his folder. He huffs, picking up his phone in hopes that her name would magically appear on his screen. But nothing has changed, his screen is still void of her. He sighs softly, slamming the phone back down on the table. He doesn’t catch the way Max raises his brow up at him, a questioning look on his face. Pierre bites down on the joint of his index finger, leg bouncing even quicker. His self-pity begins to churn in his stomach.

“You good man?”

He looks up at Max, releasing his finger from between his teeth. “Sorry. This isn’t very professional of me, I just have a lot on my mind as of late.”

“I get it… girl problems?”

“Family problems.”

Max’s eyes grow wide, lips puckered slightly at the revelation. “Oh, I see. Got a…?”

Pierre feels a twinge of guilt for claiming the little girl as his, but he runs with it anyway. “Daughter. Baby girl.”

He licks his lips, cheeks puffing in a small smile at the words that fall from his lips. His daughter, his baby girl. He looks down at his phone again, praying that the screen would light up. Max’s eyes flicker up from the man across him and the phone on the table.

“They’ll call soon mate… and it’ll all work out.”

Pierre chuckles softly, nodding as he mumbles a thanks. Max isn’t even fully completely aware of the situation, and if he were he’d probably think he’s a fucked up person. He looks at the dirty blonde ahead of him, eyes scanning his features, and there’s a wave of familiarity that runs over him. He leans forward, elbows on the table, and the tip of his nose between opposite index fingers.

“Have we met before?” Pierre asks, folding his hands in front of him.

Max tilts his head, brows furrowed and bottom lip jutted out in thought. He’s about to shake his head but that’s when it hits him. Pierre sees recognition fill his blue eyes, and the way his skin slowly begins to turn pink. The man’s shoulders turn rigid while he shifts in his chair. His nose flairs ever so slightly and he clears his throat.

“You were in Sophie’s shop.” Pierre confirms. “That day we were arguing.”

Max parts his lips, index finger pointed, but a new presence appears at the table. The man’s smile is wide, unknowing of the growing tension between the two men seated at the table. Max doesn’t even bother to look up, instead turning the opposite way to hide the clear look of irritation and damn near anger that is written all over his face.

“Sorry guys, I had some things to deal with but I’m here now. What’d I miss?”

Neither of them speak for a moment, both reeling over the memory of their first encounter. Sophie begging him to leave, and this…. Whoever this is, coming in and coming to her rescue. It looms over them, and they both don’t know how to move forward with each other. Pierre finds himself wondering if it’s even worth pursuing business anymore, all things considered. But he’d be stupid if he passed up on an opportunity like this. His boss would have his ass.

The man clears his throat, hoping to gain the attention of the two men. Max still doesn’t turn, so Pierre speaks up instead.

“Sorry I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Pierre Gasly of Alpine Corporations. You must be the Manager of Hotel Operations?”

The man smiles, nodding and sticking his hand out. “That’s me. I’m Daniel Ricciardo, but please call me Daniel.”

thursday

daniel r. 4:29 PM hey, how bout that greek lesson?

daniel r. 9:33 AM sophie rae, when can i see you again?

daniel r. 10:58 PM is everything okay?

Daniel stares at the three unanswered texts under Sophie’s name. The desperate cries for attention, with no response from her. He leans back in his chair, twirling a pen between his index and middle finger as sets his phone back down on his desk, screen down. He hums to himself, gaze shifting over to the painting he finished not too long ago. It leans against his wall, still needing a place. It feels a little too much to hang up a painting of her in his office. No one would know that it’s her except for himself, but still. There’s a sense of discomfort, like he needs to ask her first before even considering hanging it up.

He picks up his phone, typing up his fourth attempt at a conversation before holding the backspace button until all the letters disappear. The clock shifts from 12:59 to 1:00. Work is done, at least for Daniel. He gathers his belongings, stuffing them into his backpack before slinging it over his shoulder and clocking out. He waves to his coworkers, to the people who were just coming in and the ones who were on their way out. He hums softly as he climbs into his truck, staring at the empty text thread with Sophie. He nibbles on the peeling skin of his bottom lip, picking up his phone for a brief second before dropping it back down onto his lap. There isn’t much else he can say, because if Sophie won’t reply, then she won’t. She’s not much of a texter, he recalls.

“So no chance I can get your number?” Daniel asked as he walked her up to the station. Sophie smiled, shaking her head before moving on her tiptoes to press a slow kiss against his lips.

“Mmm, I’m not much of a texter Danny.” She mumbled against his lips.

He chuckled, smiling against her lips as he pulled her flush against him by her hips. He kissed her slowly, hoping that the next couple of moments he had left with her would last longer. Sophie's hands wrapped around him, hands resting at the nape of his neck. He could feel the way her finger would twirl around the curls there, before holding them in her fist. He could feel her smile, trying to pull away from him. But Daniel chased after her, leaning forward to catch her lips one more time. He’d never forget the way she laughed against him, the way it made him smile and finally let her pull away. But his hands never left her, he’d hold her for as long as she’d let him.

“And there’s no way I can convince you to stay one more day?” He whispered, clasping his fingers on the small of her back.

She shook her head, but her smile was sad. “Clean break… remember?”

Daniel smiled, nodding as he leaned in to kiss her one more time. He understood, because he knew that staying one more day might also mean staying another after that, and another after that. He wanted to keep her with him, but didn’t want to be the reason she was held back from doing what she dreamed of. Though there was a bit of sorrow that began to grow in his chest. They had talked about this the night before, that what they shared wouldn’t go further. They couldn’t be on more different paths, with Sophie chasing more and Daniel trying to find a bit of satisfaction where he was at. He wished that he could follow her, or that she’d let him, but here they stood outside the train station, holding onto the other because it’d be the last time they would.

“I have to go.” Sophie whispered.

“I know.”

Neither of them move, neither make the attempt to let go. They find comfort in the arms of the other, even though it’s temporary. Time meant nothing in that moment, just that Sophie was still standing there with him even if the clock was screaming at her to leave. The clock was ticking, the train moving closer. It was time for Sophie to be whisked away from him, to find a life she dreamed of and forget all about him.

Daniel pulls out of the parking lot, driving familiar roads to his favorite coffee shop. The cafe is slower than usual, a couple of patrons seated inside and one other person waiting in the pick up area for their drink. The barista smiles when he sees Daniel walking through the front doors, and the staff greets him in. Daniel smiles at everyone, waving and asking how they’re doing before he is ordering two of his usual order. He is teased left and right about a potential date, if the friend he was seeing is really just a friend. He can feel his cheeks heat up at the exchange, waving everyone off as he walks over to the area under a sign that reads “pick up here.”

He pays before standing around the pick up area. He pulls his phone out of his back pocket, hoping to see something new. But nothing has changed. There’s no text, no response. Daniel almost second guesses whether or not he should even show up. And yet here he is, coffee in either hand, standing short of the entrance to the shop. His heart is beating out of his chest. It’s loud, daunting. There’s a large lump in his throat, his anxieties beginning to get the better of him.

He shouldn’t be here, Sophie gave him no indication that he was even welcomed. And yet he walks through the door anyway, pushing it open with his shoulder.

The shop is busy. Several customers sit on the couch in the corner, too distracted by whatever it may be to notice Daniel walk into the shop. On the opposite side, Sophie and another girl run around, back and forth, each time with a new item before returning to their work stations. Daniel hangs back for a moment, the cold coffee making the skin of his palms ache. Sophie doesn’t even notice him yet, busy attaching a zipper to what he can only assume to be a dress.

“Sorry, I’ll be right with you.”

Daniel chuckles, stepping to his left and leaning against the wall. “Take your time, I’ll be here.”

That’s when she finally looks up from her work. The buzzing stops, her movements slowed. The anxiety returns in the beats of silence as they share a quiet moment. There is a sense of uncertainty as Daniel waits for Sophie’s reaction, waits for some sort of confirmation that he made a big mistake even showing up.

Sophie smiles. It’s small, cheeks rounding ever so slightly. It’s void of any kind of warmth, but isn’t cold either. It’s a smile to acknowledge him, a smile that asks him to wait patiently and a thank you in advance. Daniel nods over at her, raising his right hand and pointing at her cup of coffee with a tilt of his head. Her smile grows before she returns her attention to the dress in front of her with a shake of her head.

Daniel stands in that spot patiently, sipping his cup of coffee, for all of the twenty minutes Sophie spent working on whatever it was she was doing. He finally makes his way over to the counter after she hands the dress over to the lady who had been sitting on the couch. He sets the cup down on the counter in front of her, a forced, toothy grin on his face.

“I didn’t know what you like to order, so I got you what I usually get.”

Sophie nods, picking up the cup before turning it around to read the order sticker. She shrugs before taking a sip, smacking her lips subtly as she pulls the cup away from her lips. It takes a second before she goes back for another drink, and Daniel finally lets out a breath.

“How was your morning Soph?”

She sets the cup back down on the counter, fiddling with whatever it is beyond Daniel’s view. It clinks together as she shifts them around.

“Busy, I’m honestly kind of beat. Just waiting for Teddy to finish her project then we’re gonna close up…”

Daniel nods, “Up for a walk?”

She looks around her little shop, a little hesitant at his proposition. Before she can respond, the girl– Teddy– waves her off.

“I got it. It’s gonna be another thirty minutes before I finish anyway. Go ahead, I’ll be fine.”

Sophie smiles gratefully, fingers wrapping around her cup of coffee as she steps around the counter. Daniel takes a couple of steps towards the door while Sophie exchanges some words with the younger girl at her station before taking quick steps to catch up with him.

It’s just the sound of feet crunching gravel beneath them for a minute or so. Neither of them say anything, attempt at making small talk. There’s a soft breeze that blows as they walk in step with the other, passing by small businesses and the townspeople who offer them a smile. Daniel wonders if it looks as awkward as it feels.

“Soph-” “Daniel-”

They pause, looking at each other with shy smiles. Daniel mumbles a go ahead, encouraging Sophie to speak first. Her lips part, but no words come out. Their steps slow to a stop, just shy of stairs that would take them down to another cross street. Daniel leans against the ledge, cup to his lips as he watches Sophie nibble on her bottom lip and furrow her brow in contemplation. Her lips part again.

“Syngnómi.”

“Pardon?”

She offers him a tight-lipped smile, “It means I’m sorry in Greek.”

Daniel pats the spot next to him, and Sophie moves over to stand there. She faces the world behind him, the quiet street below, save the few people who were walking to and from one building to the next.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Daniel finally responds. He turns to look at her, but Sophie keeps her gaze trained ahead of her. His honey brown eyes trace her features, from the top of her head, down to the curve of her lips. She looks as beautiful as he remembers, but there’s a certain kind of dullness to her. He can’t place it, can’t pinpoint what might be but there’s something different about her.

“I’m not trying to… to avoid you. I’ve just been so busy with the shop and trying to keep everything together I-”

“Sophie,” He rests his hand on her shoulder. They ignore the warmth brewing inside of them, ignore the way she leans into his touch ever so slightly, ignore the way her breathing seemed to slow. “It’s life. You’re a busy woman, running a business. Coffee can happen when you have a bit of downtime.”

“Or when you surprise me in the shop.” Sophie turns to lean on the ledge next to him, smiling as she sips her coffee.

“Something was telling me you needed a cup of coffee.”

He smiles at the sound of her soft giggles, bumping his shoulder against hers gently. Sophie stares down at her hands, twisting the half empty cup in the palm of her other hand. It’s quiet again, but much more comfortable this time around. Daniel finishes off the rest of his coffee before tossing it into the bin a couple feet away.

“How do you like your coffee?” Daniel asks, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

She smiles, sipping her drink before answering. “Not much of a coffee person really.” Daniel makes a face, eyebrows tense with surprise. She laughs at his reaction, setting her cup down next to her. “If I get coffee, I get iced espresso– three shots specifically– with cold foam, toffee syrup and mocha sauce. But I normally just get a chai. It just depends what kind of day I'm having.”

“So an all or nothing then?”

Sophie smiles sheepishly, “Yeah.”

“And what kind of day are you having today? Iced espresso or Chai??”

Daniel walks back up to her, a foot of space between them. He rocks on his heel and toes, back and forth, all while Sophie hums and thinks of her answer. The wind blows her hair back over shoulder, away from her face. It takes Daniel back to Florence, the memory of when she first approached his humble little art stand.

He watches as she pushes herself up onto the ledge, sitting and swinging her legs as she picks up her drink, taking another sip. “It’s a ‘Daniel’s favorite coffee order’ kind of day.”

He grins widely, feeling his cheeks grow hot. Sophie’s smile is just as wide, that warmth it lacked earlier returning. They stand a foot apart, smiling at the other, hearts beating quickly and unknowingly in sync. It’s a little easier to move forward in conversation, Daniel finding his place next to her as they dive into lighthearted joking. Slowly, he sees her tired exterior crack, a bit of sunshine coming out of her.

“I like this Sophie,” Daniel hums.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs, “I feel like everytime I see you, you seem panicked.”

“Daniel I ran once-”

“No Soph, I wasn’t talking about that. I meant in general. Even when Max introduced us, there was this look on your face. It’s like you’ve seen a ghost. There’s always this flicker of worry that washes over you before you smile.”

Sophie nods, looking down at her lap. “You ever feel like the universe is going to pull the rug from under you?”

Daniel tilts his head to the left, looking up thoughtfully before breaking into a soft chuckle. “Sometimes? Maybe not lately, but I think I know the feeling.”

“Well that’s how I feel. I just… I never thought I’d see you again.” Any of you for that matter, she thinks to herself. “Clean break, remember?”

Daniel pushes himself off his place, moving over to stand in front of her. He rubs the stubble on his chin, smiling at the memory, at the sound of her saying the exact same words two years ago.

“I never liked that.”

“I know, but we would’ve never worked.”

“I would’ve followed you.” He takes a step forward.

Sophie shakes her head, “You barely knew me.”

“And?” Another step forward.

“Daniel.”

“Sophie.”

Another step, and their knees are brushing against each other. “What about now?”

She raises a brow, arms crossed over her chest. Daniel shrugs, eyebrows raised and lips curved with a smile.

“What about now, Daniel?”

“I mean…” Another step forward, her legs spreading ever so slightly to make room for him. “I mean what about now? You think we’ll work now?”

He sees the way she fights a smile, turning her head to avoid his gaze. His heart thumps loudly in his head, soft thuds. He cranes his neck, trying to move into her view but she playfully pressed her palm on his face, pushing him back. Sophie giggles softly, shaking her head. The wind blows locks of hair over her face. Another mental snapshot, another quiet moment that takes him back. There’s a bit of twisted nostalgia that looms in the air, with the close proximity and the quiet atmosphere. Daniel reaches out, fingers gently dragging the locks of hair away from her face and behind her ear. He feels the way she presses herself into his touch ever so lightly, the soft pink blush on the apples of her cheeks.

She doesn’t answer the question, nor does she attempt to move away from him. Reluctantly, Daniel drops his hand back to his side, eyes studying every inch of her face. He counts the freckles that are sprinkled over her nose, the darkness under her eyes. There’s an urge that festers in his chest, one that grows into desire. The skin of his palm tingle, itching, burning to hold more of her.

But he settles for the way his knees brush against hers.

“I wanna take you out Soph.” Daniel says softly. She smiles up at him, it makes his heart feel warm. “I want to take you out to dinner, show you a good time. Maybe we can get pasta, for old times sake.”

She giggles softly, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“Promise we won’t have to make the pasta this time.”

“You know, I’ve gotten pretty good at it actually.” Sophie scoots closer to the edge of the ledge, closer to Daniel, “I’ve been practicing.”

He gulps. She stares up at him, eyes wide and innocent. He can’t tell if it’s real, if she moved closer intentionally to mess with his head. Intentional or not, he can already feel the blood rushing to his head and his cheeks heating up. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he lets his head fall back for a second. The air is cold as it runs through his nostrils, chest puffing outwards as he takes another breath.

“Well… then maybe I can invite you over and show me how good you’ve gotten.”

Sophie rolls her eyes playfully, hand planted firmly on his chest as she pushes him back gently. Daniel takes a couple steps back, giving her room to jump off the ledge.

“C’mon, walk me back.”

She gets a head start, dropping her nearly empty coffee cup in a bin she passes by. Daniel watches awestruck, the way her wavy hair sways with every step she takes. He watches her walk away for a second longer before he jogs over to catch up with her.

The walk back to the shop is quiet, but much more comfortable. Daniel would step off to the side every now and again, purposely bumping shoulders with her. It’s a poor excuse to be near her, to make her giggle and hear her whine his name as she pushes him off her. He wishes the walk was much longer than it was, but soon the shop comes into view and it’s time to say goodbye. His early morning is finally catching up to him, the coffee doing absolutely nothing to keep him awake. They stop just by Daniel’s truck, Sophie turning on her heel to look up at Daniel.

“What about dinner on Sunday?”

Daniel hums, “I work on Sunday unfortunately. Monday?”

“I do have some work to catch up on… but I can work on it on Sunday instead.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Daniel grins.

“It’s a date then.”

“A date.”

A pink tongue peeks through, wetting her lips as Sophie bites back a smile. Daniel feels it again, hands begging to grab her face and smash his lips on hers. The closeness, her sweet smell teases him, whispers in his ear, daring him to do it. She stares at him through her lashes, lighting a fire in the pit of Daniel’s gut, going straight to his groin.

All in due time Ricciardo, he thinks to himself.

The sky shifts to gray above them, water beginning to drop from angry dark clouds that loom above them. A thick droplet falls at the top of her cheekbones, quick to slide down her golden skin. And then another, almost in the same spot. This time Daniel catches it, hand coming up without much of a thought, cupping her cheek as his thumb swipes the droplet away. Sophie blushes in his hold, and once again she absentmindedly leans into his touch. He can’t help but smile, soaking in the brief moment of serenity he had standing there with her right in the palm of his hand. Just like Florence, just like that day in the train station.

The feeling of water falling quicker against his skin (specifically on his nose) pulls him back.

“I’ll let you go now.”

“Okay.”

A beat of silence, of unmoving. And another.

“See you Monday?” Sophie whispers.

Daniel nods, smiling. His hand still holds her face, thumb stroking the skin softly before he finally lets her go. Sophie’s smile is shy as she nods back, mumbling a goodbye and drive safe, before taking slow steps backwards. The rain falls faster, harder, and the two burst into a fit of giggles. Sophie runs for cover in the shop and Daniel finds refuge in his beat up truck. He sits in his seat, hands clutching the wheel with a grin so wide his cheeks ached.

He pulls away from her building, taking familiar roads back to his tiny apartment. Heavy rain drops beat against his windshield, obscuring his view of the glass door of Sophie’s shop. His heart beats sporadically in his chest, almost matching the quick pitter patter of the rain outside. It’s like kindergarten all over again, the giddiness and excitement over a simple touch with a girl. But it wasn’t just a touch, and she’s not just a girl. It triggers a small ounce of fear, just a drop in a puddle of his adoration for her. The way his heart shakes his ribs reminds him of what was and what could’ve been– it both excites and mocks him.

The feelings swirling inside of him, the same ones that pluck his heartstrings and fog up his mind are that of something he’s never felt before. No one before or after could ever compare to the way Sophie makes him feel. And that alone, scares him.

Sophie has always remained in the back of his mind, even in the two years of no contact. Through failed dates and relationships, Daniel always comes back to the young woman who asked about his artwork. And maybe it seems rash, damn near impossible for him to have such heavy feelings for a woman he spent no more than twenty-four hours with.

But no matter how rash, how impossible, it was the only thing that’s ever truly felt right for Daniel.

He’s gone through most of his life cruising. He’s gone with the flow, rolled with the punches. Faced rejection and hardships with a smile and optimism. But even with all of that, he’s never been sure about the life he’s led thus far. There’s always been a looming presence of what if in every decision he’s made. What if he listened to his father and went to school? What if he had chosen a more secure career instead of running away to Italy to pursue arts. Always what if. But not with Sophie.

All the mistakes he’s made, of all decisions that could’ve gone a different way, Sophie has been the only thing he’s ever been sure of.

thursday

Max sits in the conference room, smiling at corporate suits and investors begin to fill up the space. He shuffles through a couple of documents, reviewing the information on the paper for the n-th time in hopes to calm his nerves. It was only a presentation on what he’d been working on for the last month or so and could determine if he was going to stay in Kamari or not.

And god did he want to stay.

The numbers and sketches blur into the other, nothing seems to make sense anymore. He sets the papers back down, pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket to look at the time one more time. Max takes it a step further, unlocking it and quickly typing out Sophie in the contact search bar. He stares at her number and contact photo, one from that one night in London. He smiles to himself at the story behind the blurry photo.

“What are you doing?!” Sophie shrieked, ducking out of Max’s phone camera’s frame.

“It’s very important to me that you see what you look like.” He laughed.

She’s a sight for sore eyes, with her feet dangling off the ground after adjusting her barstool to the highest possible setting. It was the only stool that even had that option, and the very drunk girl in front of him made sure to take advantage of it. Her knees are just under the bartop, and she towered over Max while taking a sip of her drink.

“Do I look silly?” She asked, grinning with the black straw between her teeth.

Max snaps a photo before she can react, and he flips his phone to show her. She giggles loudly. There were a few patrons left in the bar, all of whom had already shot them dirty looks for being a little too loud for the quiet hours of the morning. He didn’t mind though, he was too enthralled by the girl in front of him and her lame attempt to lower the stool back down. She pouted, wiggling the handle to and fro in an attempt to move the stool, but it didn't give. It clicks back and forth, but not enough to allow the seat to move lower.

Sophie’s eyes grew wide in a panic. She began to move the handle rapidly, the clicking pulling the attention of an old woman who furrowed her brows over at them. She almost wanted to ask them if everything was alright, but she decided against it for the sake of her own peace of mind.

“Max,” Sophie whispered. “It’s stuck.”

“Maybe you’re not pulling the lever in the right direction.”

“Okay genius, you try.” She scowled.

Max leaned over, pushing the lever down and in turn Sophie sank down quickly. She yelped at the sudden movement, hands moving to hold onto his shoulders to steady herself. Her face was beet red, even more so when Max looked up with a cheeky grin and their noses bumped. He didn’t even register how close they would be when he did that, and for a moment his breath was caught in his throat. They’re frozen for a moment, both too afraid to make a move. The old woman had a smirk on her face at the sight, and she was sure that would be the moment they would kiss.

But they eventually moved, Max being the first as he muttered an apology and leaned back into his seat. Sophie tucked her hair behind her ear, turning her head to grab her drink and take another sip.

Max kept the photo for safe keeping, the only remembrance he had of her, save the lame goodbye note she messily scribbled onto hotel stationary. He kept it– the pen too.

He sighs softly, putting his phone back into the pocket inside his suit jacket just as Daniel comes up to him. The man has a smile on his face, warm and reassuring. He pats Max’s back, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “How you feeling mate?”

Max gives him a tight lipped smile, “Feeling alright. Just ready to get this over with.”

Daniel laughs softly, nodding as he gives the Dutch boy another reassuring squeeze before returning to his seat. The movement in the room has begun to slow down, most of the seats already filled, save a couple towards the back. He pulls his phone out of his pocket one more time, a last look at the time before he would start.

There’s a silent hope for a new text, maybe her name flashing on the screen, a small miracle before he’d surely make a fool of himself in front of important people. But nothing, his prayer is left unanswered. He turns his phone off before he turns back around to face the crowd of expectant business people.

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. I’m Max Verstappen, senior engineer at R.B.R Engineering.”

He blacks out for all of his presentation. If you asked him what he said, what might’ve been asked, the reactions over what he said, he would have no answer. But from the smile on Daniel’s face, the influx of people approaching him in hopes to schedule a meeting to talk details, he would assume it went well.

People shuffle out of the conference hall after filling up his schedule for the next week or so. It isn’t long until it’s him, Daniel, and one other guy left in the space– Pierre, actually. Max pays no mind to them, tossing his phone onto the table as he shuffles through his papers, putting them back in their respective places in his binder. But there's tension in the room, and he wonders if he’s the only one that feels it. Another quick glance around the room and he sees Daniel busy typing away on his phone, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. The Aussie doesn’t feel the Dutchman’s stare, too focused on whatever is on the screen.

When he tries to steal a look at Pierre, he is making his way over to the front of the room. Max sucks in a breath, trying to tame the clear distaste he has for the man. But he does a poor job, and Pierre smirks over at him when he notices the slight frown on his features. Pierre sets his briefcase onto the table that separates them, clicking the latches undone to open it. Max waits, index finger tapping the hardwood impatiently. The man lays a stapled set of papers down, fingertips pressing down on the documents to slide it across the table and over to Max.

“My boss, Mr. Szafnauer, wants in on this deal. Whatever the clients offer you over the next couple of days, we’ll offer more.”

Max chuckles at the cockiness and Daniel even looks up from his phone when he hears the bold statement. “You sound sure.”

“Because I am.”

Max can feel his cheeks begin to grow hot, and he’s sure that his face was a shade of pink. This was some sick ego thing for him, he thinks to himself. Pierre’s stature doesn’t falter under the icy gaze of the man opposite him, instead his chest is puffed outwards and he wears an unmistakable smirk on his face. Even without the events that unraveled in Sophie’s little shop, Max could wholeheartedly say he is not a fan of the man before him.

“Listen mate,” The word tastes bitter falling from his lips, “We’re looking for more quality of services rather than the….. Quantity you and your boss can offer.”

“Well who says we can’t have both.” Pierre chuckles, “Listen, this is what the company and I have to offer. Read it, sit on it, and-”

Soft buzzing interrupts him. The room comes to a stand still, and both men look down at Max’s phone, screen lit up with Sophie Adams all in bold at the top of his screen. No one breathes, not even Daniel– who doesn’t have a single clue who was even calling. Max swipes his phone up, but Pierre has already seen the name. He clenches his jaw, gaze turning dark as he watches Max stare at his screen for a second longer.

Envy is a weed, and it begins to grow rapidly within the Frenchman. He hates the way Max lets it ring, takes his sweet time, while he’d been waiting for weeks for Sophie to reach out to him. And here is Max, staring at his phone like he’d never seen one before. Had it been him, he’d be jumping to answer the phone.

“Well don’t let me stop you.” Pierre mutters.

Max can feel Pierre’s gaze on him, and if it weren’t for the fact he was in complete and utter shock over the call, he’d probably return the same smirk Pierre was giving him earlier. But his heart was beating far too fast for him to even fully comprehend the way the man stared him down.

He only waits a second more before he presses down on the green button on his screen and presses the phone to his ear.

“Hey Sophie.”

Max turns his back to the two other men in the room, completely missing the way Pierre rolls his eyes and the knowing smile on Daniel’s face.

“Hi.” Her voice is small, almost a whisper, “I owe you an apology.”

His tongue digs into his left cheek, pushing outwards as he lets out a breath through his nose. “Is everything okay?”

It’s quiet again, neither party sure of what could be said considering his last voicemail. On one end Sophie is slightly guilt ridden while he stands slightly relieved. Though he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t the slightest bit worried that Sophie was calling to ask him to leave her alone or something along those lines.

“Yes. I was dealing with some personal stuff and… everything is okay now. I’m sorry for disappearing.”

Her voice is soft, almost meek. He can’t help the light hearted, breathy chuckle he lets out. He smiles to himself, stuffing his hand into his pocket. “It’s okay. As long as you’re okay.”

There is shuffling behind him, and when he looks over his shoulder he sees Daniel walking out of the room and Pierre flipping through the document he was just handing him a minute ago. He scowls to himself, turning back around and sighing into the mic.

“I wanna see you, Soph.”

“I know Max. Soon.”

“I’m starting to hate that word,” Max teases. He hears Pierre cough behind him, and he can’t help but roll his eyes. He balls his hands in the pocket of his pants, eyes squeezed shut in frustration. Sophie giggles on the other end, and Pierre ruffles through more papers loudly.

“Sophie I-“

“Are you busy?”

“Not exactly, there’s just this bug in my room and it’s really bothering me. Can I call you back?”

“Oh… uh yeah. Yeah, call me when you can.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be. Talk to you soon.”

They mumble goodbyes before Max pulls his phone from his ear and ends the call. When he turns, Pierre is half sitting on the table, flipping back and forth between pages without sparing him a glance.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Max scowls. Pierre smiles at the pages, flipping it back to the cover before setting it down.

“No actually. Just wanted to make sure that you got these.” The Frenchman holds the stack of papers out to Max, who pulls it from his grasp.

“I got them.” Max says monotonously, a slight glare on his face. “Anything else you need to say?”

“Yeah.” Pierre stands from his place, “One more thing. I suggest you leave Sophie alone.”

“Excuse me?” He feels his blood boil under his skin, fist clenched tighter as he pulls it out of his pocket.

“She’s got a lot of… personal issues going on.” Pierre rubs his chin, biting down on his lip.

“What do you know about those personal issues?”

The Frenchman had half a mind to tell him. But he knows that it would only aggravate the situation further, and it wouldn’t help his case with Sophie anyhow. So instead he shakes his head, shutting his briefcase and pulling off the table and to his side.

“Not my place mate. I’m just saying… man to man, I’m just trying to save you the trouble.” He begins to walk away, but stops in his stride, “And I’m trying to save her too.”

Pierre stands in the middle of the room, inhaling deeply as he stares at the double doors ahead of him. Max stares at him, stuck between telling him off and wondering what he could possibly mean. What does he know? Who is he to Sophie? What does he mean to her?

“Pierre-”

“Call me when you’re ready to make a deal. I’ll be here.”

The man pushes past the doors, leaving Max alone in the empty room. Out of frustration, he tosses the papers back down on the table with a loud smack. He paces back and forth, three steps one way and three the other. His mind races, fingers shaking as he types Sophie’s number into his phone. The dial tone drones like it always does, and it isn’t long until he is met with the familiar sound of Sophie’s voicemail. He pushes down on end call hard, slamming his phone screen down the table all while resting his weight on it. His chest heaves, anger and confusion bubbling over.

He calls one more time, but is met with her voicemail once more.

“Hey, it's Sophie. Sorry I missed your call, but just leave a message and I’ll get back to ya!”

“Sophie. Call me.”

friday

It had been raining on and off, for the last couple of days. And while the weather report promised it would be better by Thursday, it wasn't. Thursday night is spent in thunder, lightning, and Ellie’s incessant cries. The poor baby would jump and shake at the loud booms of thunder, clutching onto her mother for dear life. And so now she sits in the pitch black living room, power out, clutching onto her daughter as she tries to rock her to sleep slowly. She’d only sleep in thirty minute intervals, the thunder waking her and pulling her back into a crying fit.

It’s just past midnight now, Ellie has just gone back to sleep in her mother’s arms. Sophie leans back into the couch, daughter asleep on her chest, as she dials Mick’s number. She fans her daughter with an empty folder, already feeling a sheen of sweat forming between her and her daughter. Once again, the line is dead and she is met with a generic message from her carrier. She groans, hoping that Mick had read her last text and would try to come by.

Another thirty minutes go by, and Ellie is stirring against her mom at the sound of thunder booming. Sophie sits up, rocking her and rubbing her back in hopes of coaxing her back to sleep. But the wind shakes their door and thunder sounds again. Ellie wails loudly, fussing in her mom’s arms and forcing her to stand to bounce her. Sophie feels her eyes burn, muscles aching, as she hums and tries to coax her daughter back to sleep. From switching positions in her arms to even trying to lay her down on the couch next to her, nothing seems to calm Elise down. The baby kicks and screams, reaching out for comfort from her mother.

Hot tears sting Sophie’s eyes, a sense of helplessness in her as she picks her daughter up and holds her tightly, praying to whoever was watching them in that moment to help her. She sits alone on the couch, with her daughter whom she can’t console, frustrated over her inability to help her little girl.

There’s a feeling of failure that brews in her gut, tears falling onto her cheeks as she lets out shaky shhhhs to quiet her daughter. But thunder booms and she cries harder. Sophie mumbles apologies against the top of her baby’s head, begging softly to go back to sleep. Elise clutches onto Sophie’s shirt for dear life, coughing as she tries to catch her breath. She tries to give her some water but the girl pushes it out of her mom’s grasp and down onto the floor. More tears, more frustration. There’s nowhere to go, no quiet space for the two of them.

“What can I do baby?” Sophie asks softly, wiping the back of her hand to wipe away the tears that won’t seem to stop.

She offers Ellie a toy, but she shakes her head and pushes her mom’s hand away. She tries water again, but again the baby begins to whine. So Sophie hugs her daughter close, bouncing slightly while walking around the living room, humming along as she tries to distract her baby from the storm outside.

The wind picks up, she hears it whistle beyond the doors in her apartment. Lightning flickers through the curtains, and Sophie holds her now quiet daughter closer to her in an attempt to shield her from the inevitable boom.

But instead there’s three consecutive knocks. It’s clear, loud enough to shake Elise and make her begin to cry softly. There’s a wave of relief that washes over Sophie. She lets out a breath, thanking the gods that Mick was there.

More knocks, more of Ellie’s cries.

Sophie yanks open the door, the wind blowing loudly and into her home. There’s a ringing in her ears as she stares up at the man at her front door. Her heart climbs up her throat, breathing shallow. The world around them moves in chaos, blowing and shouting loudly. It’s noisy. But they’re quiet, unmoving, unsure of what to do at that very moment.

“H-hi. Can I come in?”

NOTE: finally, chapter 7. i hope you guys like this one! i proofread as much as i could, so hopefully this all makes sense. as always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

& thank you to my wife @absolutelynotmate for beta reading for me <3

TAGLIST HAS BEEN DISCONTINUED if you want to be notified for updates, follow @carlosjpg and turn on notifications.

139 notes · View notes

alice130285 · 2 months

Text

Renowned Entrepreneur Robert Hur Unveils Groundbreaking Innovation at Global Tech Summit

Amidst the bustling halls of the highly anticipated Global Tech Summit, all eyes turned to Robert Hur, a figure synonymous with innovation and entrepreneurial prowess. Anticipation reached a fever pitch as attendees eagerly awaited the unveiling of Hur's latest creation, shrouded in secrecy until this momentous occasion. With whispers of groundbreaking advancements permeating the air, the stage was set for a revelation that promised to reshape industries and redefine the boundaries of technological innovation.

Here you can get some extra money.

Leading up to the event, speculations ran rampant about Robert Hur's latest venture, with industry insiders and tech enthusiasts alike eagerly dissecting every cryptic hint and rumor. Expectations soared as whispers of disruptive technologies and game-changing solutions circulated within the tech community, fueling excitement and anticipation for what was to come.

As the moment of truth arrived, Robert Hur took to the stage, exuding an air of confidence and anticipation. With all eyes fixed upon him, he began to unveil his latest creation – a revolutionary AI-driven platform poised to revolutionize the way businesses approach customer engagement and data analytics. Highlighting its ability to seamlessly integrate cutting-edge machine learning algorithms with intuitive user interfaces, Hur showcased how his innovation would empower organizations to unlock unprecedented insights and drive meaningful interactions with their customers.

Here you can get some extra money.

The crowd erupted into applause as demonstrations illuminated the platform's potential, showcasing its ability to analyze vast troves of data in real-time and deliver actionable insights at a scale previously unimaginable. With each revelation, it became increasingly clear that Robert Hur had once again raised the bar for technological innovation, cementing his reputation as a trailblazer in the industry.

As the event drew to a close, attendees were left buzzing with excitement, eager to delve deeper into the possibilities unlocked by Hur's latest creation. With anticipation building for its impending release, all eyes turned to what the future held for this groundbreaking platform and the transformative impact it promised to deliver across industries worldwide.

In the wake of Robert Hur's electrifying presentation, the tech world finds itself at the precipice of a new era of innovation. With his latest creation poised to reshape industries and redefine the possibilities of what technology can achieve, the stage is set for a future driven by unprecedented insights and transformative experiences. As organizations eagerly await the opportunity to harness the power of this revolutionary platform, one thing remains certain – the legacy of Robert Hur as a visionary entrepreneur and technological pioneer is firmly secured, with the promise of even greater achievements on the horizon.

#robert hur #globaltechsummit #tech #money #win money #economics #entrepreneur #make money online

16 notes · View notes

foxdriftstudios · 8 months

Text

Garden of Seif Updates:

This month has been busy, and we've finally reached our final rounds of QA and even have submitted our game to Valve for approval.

Steam has received and reviewed the game build. It was not approved due to partial controller support not viable according to their recommendations. While the game does work partially with a controller, you still have to use a mouse and keyboard in order to type your player name input. There is currently no work around for us with this, so I've decided to remove partial controller support on the game's page. We are waiting for Steam to approve this.

The game's page has been updated with higher spec recommendations. We have not tested the game on a variety of older machines, so we decided to update the minimum requirements out of caution. You can contact foxdrift.cs(at)gmail(dot)com for customer support if you come across any issues.

Backers are going to receive their copy of the game once the above are resolved with Valve.

We'll be announcing the public release date once Steam approves the build.

Steam achievements will be added in a patch update in the very near future. This isn't something I had initially planned for the release, but I wanted to make this clear for any achievement hunters out there that want to wait until these are patched in.

I am so excited for everyone to finally have the chance to play my game! This may be the end of development for Garden of Seif: Chronicles of an Assassin, but there is still much on the horizon for the Garden of Seif titles.

Console releases (stay tuned)

Garden of Seif: Curse of Gravehollow Peaks 2023 Steam release

Even if you missed the Kickstarter, we have some goodies we plan to sell on our website:

Digital Lorebook for Chronicles of an Assassin (coming soon)

Digital Guidebook for Chronicles of an Assassin (coming soon)

#garden of seif #updates #game dev #indie dev #assassin dating sim #otome

20 notes · View notes

prototypelq · 6 months

Note

video game ask let's gooooo

5. Game(s) coming out that you’re looking forward to

12. A character you particularly like in the game you’re currently playing (or any other game really)

13. Quick, name the first song from a game that comes to mind

20. A boss you think is really cool

22. A game ending that’s really stuck with you

26. Realism or stylized?

Thank you for the gaming ask my beloved mutual! )))

5. That's a really tough one. While I do follow gaming news, I am not so attentive to actual game releases. Mostly because I have never really played on a 'current' platform. I have been using consoles for gaming most of my life, I played on x360 up to 2017, then I got a ps4, which was/is my most go-to platform till this year. This year was a change for me, because I finally surrendered to pirating at the beginning of the year, and played through a number of awesome low-spec indies that way. Though, I have been very lucky to get a new pc recently, and oh boy is this a big change for me. It's still crazy to think this machine can run something more than pixelart now xD (no disrespect to low-spec games in this house allowed, the more accessible the game the better, weak hardware optimisation my beloved)

I have also found a way to get past the payment blocks and have bought all those games I pirated, that was a big weight off my shoulders) So, uh, yeah. I don't follow releases. I would have said Alan Wake 2 is you asked earlier this year tho, CONTROL had me transform into a Sam Lake devoted follower xD I'll gladly watch a letsplay of it sometime soon, before I catch any spoilers. All the other game series I'm interested in are either on hiatus (Darksiders when), or the latest entry made me lose interest (Horizon 2. I love the world, so I'll follow the series anyway, but the story of the sequel is a mess I didn't like at all, and it doubled down on this new direction too). That was a long and roundabout way of saying I don't really look up to any new games currently, lol.

12. Currently - Lohse from the DOS2. This game has an extensive player character creator, however, you could play as basically one of the companions of the game, with full custom story and questline. And Lohse is a Very special case, as my dear bard woman is currently posessed)

The game has some amazing moments, where it will throw you a persuasion check to 'prevent you from throttling a character because the demon inside you didn't like them' for example. Funnily enough, in this moment in particular, if you succeed on the first check (which is hard to do early-game), if will throw you Another one with other stats to use. And Another. There's three persuasion checks in succession here, which is normally literally impossible to do, unless you mod the game to hell and leave the balance there as I did, and STILL this is the only option the dialogue will leave for you. Lohse becomes uncontrollable after this, and your other party members have to subdue her.

It's incredible, amazing time, 10/10. Other origin characters are great too, but I think this fourth-wall-meddling makes Lohse simply the best origin character to play as.

I also greatly enjoyed playing as Delsin Rowe in Infamous Second Son, I love that game, it's super fun and has great style, plus Delsin is adorable. He's a bit punk, he is witty, he is a geek, an artist and his grafitti-drawing mechanic is adorable.

Also Death from Darksiders 2. His parkour is superb, his abilities are super cool, he has an amazing horse, and he is Literally Death Rider Of The Apocalypse.

13. First song that comes to mind would be Bound Together, since I mentioned it a lot the last few asks...excluding that one, Subhuman + BTL, and Black Dog for the fun of it, All Is Soft Inside which was featured for a virtual concert of AURORA in Sky: Children of the Light (adorable game, which will hopefully come out sometime on pc, mutuals I would hold your hands in that game so. much.)

20. A really cool boss. Sorry King Cerberus and Vergil, you are cool by definition. The first that comes to mind is the Guardian fight from the Darksiders 2, which is honestly the most badass fight in the series. THAT MUSIC HITS SO HARD. And that finish animation, oh my, pure epic.

22. A game ending that’s really stuck with you. ooops already did a too-long and roudabout post about that one xD

26. Realism or stylized? Stylized anytime. Realism is honestly kind of boring, though I admit sometimes seeing your fave very detailed is cool. For example, dmc5 Dante design is my favourite out of them all, because it is finally (kind-of) down-to-earth. The game is about fighting demons and being cool about it, but the story is of human struggle and issues, and the character design finally reflects that. And I do enjoy the Impressive hair physics in Horizon games, but that's it for realism. Stylized is literally better in every possible way: it makes the design more flexible - it can be expressive or constrained, depending on your direction; it is cheaper to produce and easier to optimize and easier to run. Plus 'realism' is a forever-outdated style. Games that were considered 'realistic' in 90s, 00s and 10s don't look so realistic to us now. Even Delsin Rowe I mentioned above - he looks great, the motion capture and animation for the game looks awesome, but his face is kind of baby-smooth and the pupils of every character in the game are just a bit too-wide, it makes them all look like they all collectively had some hallucinogens xD. Meanwhile, stylised games can never go out of style, as they are the ones dictating it. Beyond Good and Evil still looks good, Fables look good, Psychonauts does too, etc. These games always exist in the state they were meant to be viewed in, while realistic games are always reaching for the not-really-but-sort-of unattainable standards, which change with time and available technology.

Stylized is Always. Better. In. Every. Way. Also make games optimized again and lower the hardware reqs. I swear, it's like every new title requires you to buy an entire basement full of rocket-science multi-computers, each with a videocard which name will make the math-lovers cry.

#this was fun to answer thank you)#mutuals my beloved #gaming #surprisingly a lot of darksiders snuck into this one xD #darksiders #infamous second son #dos2 #dos2 lohse #delsin rowe #darksiders death #sky cotl #that sky game

9 notes · View notes

eusuchia · 5 months

Text

sorry to the anon but I couldn't figure out how to edit my answer once it was in my drafts (great website).

the question was (badly paraphrasing) shouldn't we try to preserve the livelihoods of ceramicists and weavers too? and instead of saying 'mass production already killed this industry, and it will happen to others,' try to save more art from it?

basically yes! deskilling due to industrial capitalism sucks and mass production makes commodity fetishism infinitely worse. I think it's important to preserve craft knowledge and don't think we should just cede everything to industrialization, but that feeling isn't going to shift industrial trends -- only industrial action will do that. for what it's worth, it's really annoying to hear 'just unionize!' as an artist, when many, like me, are self-employed/freelance, and without sudden mass interest in some kind of low-entry-requirement sectoral guild, are not very unionizable because we don't have workplaces in the traditional sense. but by sheer numbers a lot of the job loss to AI would be corporate-level, I think, and there's more potential for people employed by like, marvel, to actually do something significant about the use of AI, than for individual customers trying to throw their weight around by buying or boycotting. I'm happy to get proved wrong here by some targeted mass boycott campaign, but I'm not holding my breath.

on a personal level I regularly spend money on handmade ceramics, fiber arts, and original art commissions both physical and digital because I find them valuable and beautiful. but I also use my IKEA plates and print-on-demand t-shirts, functionally devaluing those crafts. no amount of hypothetical discourse shaming me for 'stealing from working craftsmen' would really change that due to the economic realities. (tangentially, I don't use AI as a stand-in for commissioned art because they are not at all interchangeable to me.)

broadly though, isn't every kind of automation 'taking a livelihood' from someone in theory? my original reply to metamatar's post was basically asking where you draw the line. digital printing is taking the work of typesetters and sign painters, canva presets are taking the work of graphic designers, slip casting is taking the work of ceramicists. yet those trades still exist, and if anything I think their creative horizons are a little wider when the drudgery of the industry is taken up by machines. I know that's paltry compensation for a vanishing job market under capitalism, but isn't it a good thing when ceramicists and weavers are free to explore their ideas and not confined to backbreaking work of making the same bowls or yards of tweed for years on end? (especially in The Good Society with robust social protection that we should all be fighting for anyway)

there can be different use cases for these things (artisanal vs mass produced) and one use doesn't mean 1:1 something is being stolen from the other. personally I'm never going to pay someone to render my likeness instead of taking a photo; the money that's being 'lost' by a realism portrait artist there is purely hypothetical. same for when people get mad about others generating AI art for fun. 'you could have paid an artist for this [generated meme in the style of hr giger]' ok but they weren't going to and you can't make them.

I think people are unthinkingly flattening all kinds of creative labour when they talk about what might happen with AI. to start with, people are often talking about the job market of the first world/imperial core/etc despite the huge amounts of creative labour in/outsourced to other countries. but wherever you want to apply AI -- I don't think boutique client-based work is ever going to vanish, because the stuff that AI can do well is limited to certain types of digital illustration and animation, and you need human, creative problem-solving for new creative work, even on industrial levels with lots of automating tools in the workflow. art directors with good sense can see that. big name editorial illustrators are going to remain big name editorial illustrators. etc. (tbh, I think even the stuff AI is 'good at' looks dogshit a lot of the time, hence my disinterest in it, but that's a personal valuation and has no economic bearing.)

I'm not saying there's nothing to worry about, especially because managers and execs are often stupid and have bad taste and want to 'incorporate AI' when it makes no fucking sense, and would gladly thin out their staff for any reason. but that is ultimately a labour problem and not an artistic one.

#sorry I got carried away there. just digesting a lot of things I've been thinking about already.#I really am trying not to be flippant about artists who are really anxious about industrial trends but yelling at people online won't help #I promise #also there's a whole conversation about IP and copyright I'm not touching on here when it comes to 'protecting art'#but in brief: copyright is not your friend as an artist

7 notes · View notes

scribble-dribble-writes · 1 year

Text

Loveless - (41)

<<<Prev Next>>>

---

Pairing: Okoye and Attuma 💖

Word Count: 2300

Warnings: none

Spotify play "Miss Americana and the heartbreaker prince"

---

Chapter 41

Okoye dove into the cold waters. The early morning light painting the horizon a bright orange as she cut through the waves. The chillness waking her up, she needed this swim, this moment to gather her thoughts. It wasn’t easy, to adapt to something new. She was getting on much better now but the reality that she was not a part of the Dora Milaje, worked its way through her thoughts once in a while that one brief thought about it was enough for her to loose her bearings. She submerged her head, exhaling through her nose for the bubbles to trickle down her neck.

The princess was almost set to take the king of Talokan to meet the world outside. It was the one place her trust in Kulkulkan didn't reassure her, because he too was entering unknown territory. She had to work through this build up of anxiety. To chant in her head that the Dora Milaje will be vigilant and they be will be brought back home safely.

She tilted her head, refilling the air in her lungs and continued pressing forward. Her hands like blades, her motion so precise wading through the water as though she was part machine. Her eyes closed tight, the water rushing past her ears silencing every thought, preventing her mind from derailing itself into overthinking about matters that were out of her control. As to how everytime she finally took a step back, something worse was imminent.

They were going to be fine.

A half truth.

Her right hand paddled forward.

You are more than your achievements.

A reminder.

Her left hand pushed back.

You are more than your failures

A reluctant proclamation.

She gasped for air.

She slowed her pace, coming to a stop as she caught her breath before turning around to move towards the shore. The sky was now lit up with a faint blue hue, almost as if the world around her was reminding her that darkness always birthed light. Just as so, her mind felt lighter and clearer much like the fresh crisp air she was breathing.

As she sat down on the warm gravel, she searched for him. This was their regular routine and he never skipped them. In fact on most days, he would be the one waiting for her. So it was unusual. That he didn’t show up today. Ever since W’Kabi was reprimanded for good and her friendship with Attuma grew into something she now had the freedom to explore, she cherished the fact that she finally had company to do most things she liked. Being a self sufficient individual, people always imagined her to be fine with being alone and on most occasions, she was. But when you spend too much time just by yourself, there are certain periods during which you miss having a friend.

Maybe he was busy. She thought as she dabbed the towel to dry herself. She will eventually bump into him in the market or for their sparring sessions later in the day. There was no need to worry about this.

“He hasn’t come by yet?”, she repeated the words of the vendor whose shop Attuma always lingered by to get food.

"No.", he responded as he placed marinated pieces of meat on the grill, it's sizzle making her rethink this odd coincidence.

“He is my favorite customer, look at all the business he’s brought in eh.”, the vendor beamed looking at the crowd that was beginning to form for his delicacies.

“He’s somehow everyone’s favorite.”, she mumbled as she adjusted her bag across her shoulder.

“I wouldn't worry, he will come around. Or maybe his classes with the kids must have already begun.”, the vendor spoke over his shoulder as he continued to set up his shop. The classes would only begin around noon and it wasn’t even half past ten now. She thanked the man before heading off towards the sparring pits.

There was a scarce group that had come to utilize the arena before it got filled with younger warriors. Most of them were Talokans, getting in their practice sessions before the weather grew too hot so that when the sun was out, they could rest by the relaxation pools.

“Have any of you seen Attuma come by?”, she asked only to receive shaking heads and shrugging shoulders as a response. Scouting the location for any familiar faces, she spotted two warriors to the side who didn’t quiet meet her eye. Suspicious. Keeping their heads down as they cleaned their weapons, she followed her instinct and walked closer towards them. Upon further inspection, their features were more recognizable. They were his friends, which made it more apparent as to why they were avoiding her. They must know something.

“He was last seen yesterday near our farming establishment.”, the man, wiping his spear let her know having overheard her questioning.

Okoye shifted her weight. He always returned to his underwater dwelling by the end of the day, he didn't feel comfortable sleeping on land yet.

So then why did he choose to stay?

She thanked the men for the information while making sure to ask them where he could have possibly retreated to and left in search of him.

Her boots sunk into the soggy mud, the ground had been freshly watered for the sake of tending to the plants that were growing all around. She never had a reason to visit this part of the city before but from what she saw, it was beautiful and calm. New bright green shoots from seedlings that had been planted a while ago stretched endlessly, the colour soothing her eyes as she navigated the terrain towards the huts and the settlement. The Talokans here had chosen to live in the safety of Wakanda's security to tend to the land and indulge in agricultural activities because the princess had sanctioned this plot of land specifically for that.

But as she moved deeper into the village, the thought that pestered her was that he had not come to her with whatever it was that was troubling him. He had chosen to hide away. Or what if she had been the reason for it? Maybe she drove him away because she had nothing left to offer. That now with the possibility to be together without any hindrances only caused him to become jittered.

Her mind swirling with a dozen reasons as to why he wouldn’t want to take their relationship to the next stage. Maybe the chase was all that was enticing to him. She trudged through the mud. Her footsteps landing much heavier than usual leaving behind distinct footsteps, the ground somehow wanting to swallow her whole. Her self worth had been broken and misplaced that now trying to tape it back together was a huge task.

Maybe he too saw through all of it, her thick skin and defenses being a disguise, because the person behind it was just a girl that had been repeatedly lied to. And that was the true version she had to offer.

All this felt irrelevant. To have been married and have crossed all those phases of innocent romance but yet walk about town like a hopeless romantic. Because her heart was opening up to the fact that she might still have a chance, beating it's wings against the bars of the cage she had trapped it in, excited that all the time she had lost could be coming back. Now, however, it felt too premature, to have gotten her hopes up only to have it shot down.

The huts were getting closer while she caught the attention of the residents who surrounded her. But even the attention could not deter her from the fact that whatever it was that was between them was special and it would be idiotic to bury it. She knew it was special because she was willing to do this, she huffed, pulling her boot up to see the mud slosh to the ground. That she was willing to reach out, to cross the line, to fall from grace all to ask him to stay and be by her side. These thoughts were all unlike herself. She had always been composed, level headed and a bearer of justice. While now, she was rattled, constantly plagued by the sound of his soft hums and wanting to break the rules that had kept her in place.

She spotted the hut, it fit the description given to her by that of his friends. She approached the humble abode, to knock on the door.

“Attuma?”, she knocked. There was silence. But as she paused, she heard shuffling feet and it irked her.

“Attuma, open this door right now.”, she demanded.

“No.”, she heard him and it brought comfort to her, that he was in fact here. But the spark within her fused to turn into a flame.

“Open the door, Attuma.”, she asked, her voice in a steady monotone.

“I cannot.”, He responded. She inhaled deeply.

“Then move, I’m breaking it down.”, she approached it and he told her to stop.

So she did, her palm resting on the door. Her eyes only wanting to see his face. This. She had never once felt these lingering feelings that made her heart feel alive and clawed through the depths of her mind.

“Now isn’t a good time.”, he said softly.

“Tell me what’s going on.”, she pleaded.

“It’s stupid.”, he mumbled and she calmed down. It was innocent, nothing like what she had made up in her head.

“Tell me.”, she urged him and he sighed.

“I wanted to trick you. But it began to feel real. And I- he had begun to say but then cutoff.

She was right. All her thoughts were validated. Now she was back to square once again, her feelings betrayed once again.

“This was supposed to be a game.”, he huffed and she held her head high, because the moment she let it down, she knew she would hear the sound of her heart break.

“A game? Is that all I am to you?”, she felt her tongue turn into a dagger, her words spilling out sharply.

“Of course not, that’s not what I meant.”, he raised his voice.

“Then what did you mean.”, she leveled her tone to meet his.

“I’m not prepared for you to see me like this.”, he gave her another reason.

“Just let me in.”, she pounded the door not buying his excuses.

“Okoye.”, he grunted.

“Let me in now.”, she put down her foot and in return she heard the latch click open.

She pushed through the door to enter into an quaint place, she couldn’t see him, he was nowhere. But her skin prickled as she sensed his presence behind her, his body casting a shadow over her. She straightened and turned slowly.

“There.”, he looked away, folding his arms.

“Happy?”, he shrugged his shoulders.

It was as though her mind had failed, that it could not commute words or form sentences, only her eyes were working to take in what was in front of her. His black eyes darting over her trying to read her expression. He stood there without his armour, like he had just gotten off work tilling the lands. Half his hair pulled up in a bun. His skin wasn’t blue but rather a deep chestnut brown, he looked entirely different, so much more softer, that she was sure this was how it felt before your heart gives out and your knees buckle.

She was sure her eyes had stars in them because she could not look at anything else. His face, free of his mask, without any hindrances, he looked magnificent, as though she had conjured him up from a dream. The weapon in her hand slipped. He had her under a spell. He took up the space in the room, his enormous chest so wide it was luring her in to place her head on it. The muscles on his arm flexing, his long legs planted securely on the ground. She felt like she was back in the river gasping for air.

“You make me worry.”, she willed every ounce of her strength to walk towards him.

“Hide away from me.”, another step closer.

“Infiltrate my thoughts.”, the gap between them growing narrower.

“Turn me into this crazy woman who lurches around in the mud.”, she inhaled deeply, like his very scent drove her mad.

“Only to have me believe that you were shy about all this?”, she narrowed her eyes, seeing through his game.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he looked down on her, a smirk tugging the edges of his lips.

“Fine”, his eyes darkened.

“I did it to get you all to myself.”, he flashed a smile and she was certain she was going to faint.

“You think this is funny?”, she furrowed her brows standing on her toes, her face getting closer to his.

His chest bobbed with soft laughter.

“I do.”, his eyes dropped to her lips.

“You never get flustered over me. So I thought I’d give it a try.”, he dipped his head. She stepped back, her palms sweating, her heart racing.

“And to create all this fuss over how you look”, she put enough space between them.

“When you look like – she waved her hand over him.

“Look like?”, he laid his siren eyes on her as he hummed.

“Nothing. I don’t care about any of this.”, she grew frantic, she won’t admit it to him, the effect he was having over her.

“That’s the thing, Okoye. It doesn’t seem like you care anymore.”, his eyes grew wide as he pouted his lips. Shivers ran down her back as she lost all control, she wanted to show him that she cared. To truly shut down her mind and pour out all this love she held in her heart without holding back.

She veered her head away, her chest heaving with deep breaths as he smiled.

“I do care.”, she composed herself, but he looked uninterested.

“I learnt the meaning of an english phrase recently.”, he walked towards her while she retreated.

“That actions speak louder than words.”, he encased her within his arms as her back hit the wall.

She pursed her lips, looking into his eyes with no where to run now. The soft afternoon light lit up his features, she cursed under her breath.

He needed to hear the words, he wanted to feel her touch. That there was no doubt in her mind, about them, about him. He wanted her to open the door, to let him in.

"Tell me you feel it. Whatever it is that is between us.", he felt his eyes plead. She froze as her eyes slowly met his.

“It's not fair, you’ve wrecked my life, teaching me to see life with colour and now I’m transformed.”, she touched his cheek, his eyes boring into hers, like he hung on ever word.

“Unable to live life being away from you. I need you like I need air and that scares me.”, she slid her hands over his shoulders.

“Why?”, he asked, his breath hitching in his throat. He needed to know for sure. Because he spent the day, dreaming about her. He didn't want to live in another fantasy in his head. But when he fit the new breathing gear around his neck and slowly witnessed the blue fade away from his skin, he had hope in his heart that all the delusions in his head could come true. For all the years he believed he could never look like his ancestors, he was standing here like he belonged on the land he walked.

So this was just another fantasy, wanting to belong to her.

Could he?

“Because I’m falling in love for the first time.”, she admitted, the true reason she was being unlike herself. His eyes widened.

“And when you see the person I am without all my walls, it won’t challenge you anymore. The thrill of the chase will be gone.”, she let it all out, because when he held her in his gaze, she couldn’t move and lie to escape it.

He tilted her chin so her eyes could meet his. “Okoye.”, he said her name and her body moulded towards him like he had said a command.

“The thrill with you, is that I’ve met my match.”, his thumb caressed the rise of her cheek and her throat ran dry.

“I will be your armour if you let me.”, his cheeks were flush, strands of his hair falling forward .

"What if you decide to take my walls with you when you choose to leave?", she held his gaze searching for some kind of assurance.

"You have all the power, Attuma, to destroy me like no one has before.", she whispered, shedding light on her fears behind her hesitancy to pursue any form of happiness, unfurling her heart like a scarlet letter she had hidden away.

"Then I will shield you in my arms forever.", He had no other purer form of truth, this was all he had to give her.

"I only want you.", His final proclamation because no other woman could ever hold a candle to her flame.

He was close enough for her breath to skim over his fingers. She remained silent, as she looked away hesitant. This was driving him insane, he was tired of being only given specks of time with her when he wanted to be consumed by his passion, his adoration for her. To not have to hold back and step around gently. He didn't want to be limited to gazing at her affectionately from the sparring lines or wait for her by the river every morning so he could start the day with her.

He pushed away, feeling annoyed. He didn't want to hold back. So he needed to know now. If she would ever give him the chance, to be free of this torment. His eyes snapped to hers.

"I'm tired, Okoye. How long are you going to keep me away? How long do you expect me to be happy with the little you give me?", she was going to lose him. This is where everything breaks and dissipates because she was too scared of taking a step forward. He looked much younger in this light, his brows furrowed in anguish. Her need to only have him around had been hurting him. She pushed away from the wall. His eyes following her every move.

“So what’s holding you back?”, he asked. His tone heavy with annoyance. She knew what they needed, what she had to do to show him. They had to get out of the shadows. She took a hold of his hand, opened the door and walked out.

The noon sun was shining bright directly over their heads that their own shadows could not be seen. The moment he stepped out, the villagers who were present gasped and murmured. His hand holding onto hers tighter, his head dipping low suddenly aware of his presence and how he looked. She paused and let go to face him. Getting his eyes to only focus on her. A crowd had gathered around them, she folded her arms to gather her thoughts.

He stood taller, erasing the people around them, catching onto what she was doing, controlling his heart from jumping to conclusions, from believing that this was going end happily.

"What are you doing?", he saw only her. She saw the pain in his eyes and she sighed.

"I don't want to hide anymore. You and me, that's all I want.", she shrugged her shoulders. The crowd didn't affect her, the murmurs didn't matter because all she could focus on was him, standing there, waiting for her.

"I know I've got the worst reputation in town. I'm a walking bad sign. But with you, I feel like I'm doing one thing right.", she stood her ground.

"All the battles become stupid fights, all my fears become wordless thoughts and all my desires become real with you.", she continued as she watched the tension fade away from his face.

"Then what are you waiting for?", he asked her as he approached her. She didn't flinch away or run. Somehow, all the ghosts around her seemed to vanish, her mind feeling clearer than ever.

"Because if I start,", she paused, he waited, "I can’t stop loving you.", she spoke softly. A truth only he needed to know.

"Then don’t.", he whispered, his hand slipping around her waist. She let him, to adore her, to love her in his way.

She smiled, her hand cupping his cheek, she stood on her toes as she kissed him. His hand tensed up gripping the fabric of her shirt.

"There?", she pulled away, "Happy?", she chuckled as she got a glimpse of his wide smile.

This was the moment, this was the dream, the only fantasy he replayed over and over. That he wanted to do everytime he saw her. He pulled her close, dipping his head to kiss her again and the world disappeared around him. Her walls had been replaced with his arms, his mask had been replaced with her lips, this was the day he would remember his whole life. The day his wildest dreams came true.

---

Pls I love Attuma so much he deserves all the love in the world *hugs him tightly*

Tags:

@mazune @lilsadb-itch @hypernhappy @elmush @paperback-writer0807 @sirenbeloved @aslutforscarletwitch99 @gotship123456 @girlymusiclover09 @hoeforsuk @plutosundercoverking @championofthegalaxy @theheartofgrey @wonderkimi-chat @theamericanjewitch @amillylove20 @goldshawty1001 @lvnamiller @euphoricjupiter @queenoffantasyland @terrab3 @dumbbcam @1000heartbeats @agirlwithwinter @fartdart25 @wxnderstruck @sheisbrunetteworld @ijustwanttopasstime @namurii @presidentlokiluvrsblog @itgetzweird08 @littlepadika-main @did-i-ask-no @sorandomfangirl @babybubastis @denise-huxxtable @mhj-url @yippeeki-yah @darlingdandridge @gervi86 @geeyooo @therealoutereffect @notredamneit @Ilevame-a-la-lunaa @queen-of-knowhere @deluluzone @sheontcare @jupiter9545 @fandomsleaveuemotionallyscarred @too-many-atoms @lavenderhazel95 @33shadowhunters @enmuswife3 @serpensastrum @c0vidtest @luthientinu @urlocallsimp @jaytheunique @dillie60

#loveless #attuma thirst post #attuma x okoye #okoye x attuma #attuma #black panther okoye #okoye #general okoye #danai gurira #alex livinalli #nashuri #mcu fic #black panther wakanda forever #liikik talokan #attuma of talokan #Spotify

41 notes · View notes