#mat kearney song

[writtenonreceipts]

Rowaelin Month Day One: Song Fic @rowaelinscourt

Back by no one’s demands but my own: a part two and conclusion to “Annie” the song fic I wrote for last year.  This one does end happier, I pinky promise.  Inspired by Mat Kearney’s song “New York to California.”  If you’ve been around for a while, you know Mat is one of those artists that I adore and his music means so much to me.  I also just really wanted to conclude “Annie” and NYtCA just hits different…anyways, I hope you enjoy?  You technically don’t need to read Annie if you don’t want to.

Rowaelin Month 2023 Masterlist Main Masterlist Annie—Part One

Warnings: she’s a touch angsty, nothing worse than how I usually go.  ~3k words

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New York to California

Before

She doesn’t know if it’s late or early when sleep takes her.  For weeks now she’s been trapped behind a gray haze.  It falls over her mind and tries to convince her that nothing really matters anymore.  It’s far too easy to fall victim to that mindset, and usually she does better at chasing the demons away.  Usually it’s easier.

So as she drifts off, she’s just glad for a taste of some relief from the day.  It’s been hard lately, too hard.  And she doesn’t know how she’ll break free from it.

Maybe, for that reason alone, it’s better that she falls asleep.  It can be the reprieve from her foster father and the ways the world has a way of crashing down around her.

The problem is, she forgets how easily the dreams find her.   They invade this quiet space she’s tried to carve out for herself so easily that sometimes she doubts her sanity.  Because the dreams are full of shadows and screams, pain and panic.  She wants to escape them.  More than anything if she could fade away into the gray haze of dawn and linger there—she would.

She’s in the middle of one of those terrors when a gentle hand glides down her cheek and she can hear his voice calling to her.

Fireheart.  Fireheart.

When her eyes open it’s to find him staring down at her, green eyes flickering with the light of the TV, his hoodie drenched with rain.  She can see the worry reflecting in his eyes as he brings his hand back to her cheek.  His thumb runs in soothing circles along her skin.

“I had one of those dreams again,” she whispers.  She doesn’t want to admit it, doesn’t want to cause him more pain.  But it’s Rowan.  And he’s always been a part of her. “I thought I lost you.”

“It’s alright,” he says, easing onto the couch beside her. “Everything’s alright, I’m here.”

Aelin knows she shouldn’t, but she snuggles into his side nonetheless.  He smells like pine and rain and earth and it’s the most comforting thing she can imagine.  So she leans into him and wraps her arms tight around him so he won’t disappear on her again.

She knows they shouldn’t do this.  Knows he shouldn’t even be here.  If Arobynn finds out Rowan showed up at the house Aelin knows there will be hell to pay.  The only thing that gives her hope is that her foster father is gone on a work trip.  He won’t be back until Thursday.  But Aelin lives in a constant state of fear as her mind lingers on the “what-ifs” of it all.

“It’s alright, baby,” Rowan says.  He presses his lips into her forehead and pulls the fleece blanket over them.  “I’m right here with you.”

She lets his words wash over her and soothe her own worries.  He’s never steered her wrong before, never left her unless he had to.  And even than he lingers still.  Because that Rowan, her Rowan, can temper any storm raging in her mind.

As he holds her close, she can make out the scent of cheap beer and cigarettes.  She knows he was singing at the bar again tonight, trying to earn some cash for the two of them to finally breakaway from this damned town.

“Don’t leave,” she says, slurred with sleep and exhaustion. His warmth is all she needs to drift back off to sleep, missing what he whispers to her next.

…

After

The coffee shop is the same as it always is: loud and hot. 

No matter when Aelin comes, there is always line out the door and every table is occupied by no one that actually has to be there.  She has decided it is a ruse designed by society in general to make coffee shops more appealing.  Supposedly they can offer you a sense of peace and comfort and delude you into thinking that you’re right where you belong—mixed up in a mess of people just as desperate for connection as you.

So yes, the coffee shop is always full.  Single patrons take up tables for just themselves and their selfies and little cookies that they won’t actually eat.  And straw liners are somehow strewn about the floor even though straws have been banned in the city for almost a year now.  And somehow the heater is always going even in the middle of summer but no one ever comments because it is a coffee shop so therefore everything is perfect.

But it’s not.  Everything is so far from perfect that Aelin has more than once found herself stumbling through life.  She’s lost in a world that has passed her by all because her foster father beat her down.  All because she stayed behind and let the one good thing in her life leave.

She doesn’t blame him, of course.  She can’t.  He was always too good for this place anyways.  He always had a way about him that said he wouldn’t step back from a fight.

It’s what she loves most about him.

Because of course she still loves him.

Rowan Whitethorn was, and still is, the best thing to ever happen to her.  From the time they were kinds to the inevitable night that finally pulled them apart—Rowan had been all she ever needed.

He left the city the second he could after his music managed to get him free.  He’d tried to take her with him, tried to say that he’d take care of her and that everything would be alright with just the two of them.

But Aelin knew then that it wasn’t that simple.  It never would be.

Except now, Arobynn is dead.  Dead and no longer tormenting her daily.  Instead, he’s just another terror in her dreams.

They’ve gotten better though, the nightmares.  They don’t come every night and even when they do, it’s easier to chase them away now.  Because she’s free.

And sometimes, if she’s lucky, Rowan will be there.  He’s always had a way of climbing into her dreams and staying right where he’s needed.  Even though he’s not physically here he’s still the greatest source of comfort to her.

She tries to shake the thoughts of him away.  They won’t do her any good.  No matter how badly she wishes they could, that he was there with her.  Instead, any and all thoughts of him haunt her and remind her of what could have been.

So she opens her laptop, navigating to the article she’s supposed to be editing. 

Somewhere along the way, she managed to pave a small road for herself.  She was even the lead editor on this new addition of Kingsflame, an up and coming magazine.  It took her a while to find her way here, to find something she liked and was just for her.  But she was good at writing, she was good at picking up on details, she was good and weaving a story together.

Just not her own.

Aelin works for a little, trying to give all her attention to the document.  The intern that wrote it is promising and Aelin wants to make sure to nourish a love of writing for her.  Aelin knows first hand what just a taste of approval can do for someone and she wants the girl to grow in her love of words.  Writing is what saved Aelin herself after all.

Sitting back in her seat, Aelin sighs and sips at her coffee.  It’s something dark and bitter—not at all what she usually likes.  She prefers sweet and sugar and all the extra bits but the poor barista behind the counter looked one pumpkin spiced latte away from quitting so Aelin got a simple black coffee.  She added extra packets of sugar herself.  

It’s disgusting.

But she has to admit the caffeine is definitely going straight to her brain.

She takes another long sip when it happens.  The song on the radio changes and she hears a voice that has only been a part of her dreams.  It’s low with the barest hint of his accent.  He’s accompanied by a piano which is different—he’s always preferred the guitar, saying that he’ll leave the piano to her.

Only…she never got the chance to play with him.

And now he’s singing a ballad of love and hope over the speakers of her coffee shop.  And no one notices.  And no one realizes what it means to hear him now.

He’d always promised he’d find his way back to her.  She just thought it was going to be different.

…

Before

There’s a storm billowing through the trees and lashing the windows with rain.  The gray sky is endless as it grows darker with each passing second.  This isn’t any regular storm.  It’s been raging on for over an hour now, bringing in a few rounds of thunder and lightning with it. 

Aelin finds she doesn’t mind it.  Not at all.

Because beside her on the couch is Rowan.  He has an arm wrapped around her as he drifts in and out of sleep.  It’s been a long day of sneaking about, hiding, and worrying.  Now, they just have an hour.  One hour of just the two of them before she has to go back home.

“I miss you,” Rowan says, quiet. 

Aelin isn’t sure she’s heard him properly.  Or maybe he’s talking in his sleep, he does that sometimes.  She runs her fingers through his hair, brushing the silvery locks back from his forehead.

“What did you say?”

Rowan twists, his chin resting on her stomach.  Green eyes stare up at her, dark with longing.

“I miss you,” he repeats, just as quiet.

“I’m right here,” she says.  She doesn’t stop running her fingers through his hair, can’t stop more like it.  It’s grown longer recently and she loves it. 

He doesn’t say anything.  All he does is watch her.  A flash of lightning snaps from outside illuminates his face, turning the shadows beneath his eyes lighter for once.  They’re just kids but it feels like they’ve fought wars already.

Tightening his hold on her, Rowan lets out a small sigh.

“I know,” he says, “but it never feels close enough, does it?”

“You’re just talking,” she says with a low chuckle.  Sometimes, words take on more meaning.  Sometimes, words mean more than they usually do.  And sometimes words are promises that bind you to more than a moment.

He grunts. “No I’m not.”

Her heart thuds at his words, at the feel of him as he sits up slowly, still pressed close to her; only now they’re chest to chest.  He’s so much bigger than Aelin that his frame practically engulfs her.  His broad chest and thick arms are enough to keep her from fidgeting too much though.  Because where else would she rather be?

“No matter what happen, I’ll be here, you know?” he says.  It’s the closest they’ve gotten to talking about the Arobynn situation and how Aelin can’t leave.  No matter what hopes and dreams she might have and share with Rowan.

She’s trapped.

“Rowan,” Aelin begins, she can’t let him say things he doesn’t mean or make promises he can’t keep.

“I’ll never be far enough away that I can’t find you again,” he says.  One finger curls beneath her chin, causing her to look up. “I’d crawl back to you if I had to.”

“I guess I could get used to you being on your knees for me,” she replies.  She wants to ease the moment, to find some levity that doesn’t make her feel like her heart is about be cut open and left to bleed out.

Rowan leans forward until his nose touches hers, until they’re so close that it would be so easy, so easy, to kiss him.  To taste him.  To have a small part of him that she’s wanted for so long.

“Only for you, Fireheart.”

…

After

California bleeds neon lights and smoke on the horizon.

At first, Aelin can only stare at the skyline and bustling streets and the myriad of people passing by like they’ve got all the time in the world.  At first, Aelin can only breathe in the smog that coats the air like a second skin and the underlying musk of sea water. 

She flew into Los Angeles on nothing but a whim and her last paycheck.  Elide told her not to go.  Aedion insisted she at least wait for him to come with her.  Lysandra gave her an extra hundred dollars for an emergency.

Now, she’s wandering the old boardwalks by the ocean, watching waves crash and crowds swarm various popular spots.  She doesn’t know where she is exactly.  All she knows is that she’s nowhere near Hollywood or all the fancy places that she’d always imagined California to have.  But that’s alright.  She’s always found her way in the unknown and unpredictable.  Even if it has been hell.

It's getting late and all she has guiding her is an old news letter she found online.  There’s supposed to be an old grunge bar around here along the downtown scene.  A place that supports those small artists with dreams bigger than reality.

The late fall light fades into the horizon, bringing a chill to the air.  Aelin hadn’t expected it—cool air and gentle breezes.  But she doesn’t mind it.  She’s full or energy and worry, which may as well be a good thing as the combination has kept her from spiraling out of control.

When she enters the bar she already things she’s in the wrong place.  The low lights and heady scent of cigarettes is enough to tell her so.  But she pays a cover fee for the musicians playing and works her way to the front. 

A part of her mind screams that she should have gotten here sooner, that it’s nearing the final acts and she’s missed her opportunity.  Another part of her is convinced that she shouldn’t even be here to begin with.  Afterall, it’s been five years. 

But Aelin knows she would wait for any length of time; she’d always find a way back to his side.  She got out of her own nightmares even if it did take her years.  Maybe she should have called.  She even has his number and has listened to every voicemail he’s left on repeat as if its her own lullaby for the darkest nights.

It takes some effort, but Aelin makes it closer to the stage.  She’s still two rows back, but it’s close enough, she thinks. 

On stage a woman finishes a ballad with her guitar.  The music’s simple and her scratchy voice doesn’t hold the song together—at least in Aelin’s opinion, but she’s so far detached from this world, maybe she doesn’t know anything.

As the woman exits, a young college kid steps up to the microphone.  His hair falls in his face and he’s trying to layer flannel and an old-style t-shirt that doesn’t quite work for him.

“Next up we’ve got our regular,” the kid announces, already pulling away to make room for the final act. “Rowan Whitethorn.”

All around Aelin, the audience erupts into cheers.  They’ve all come for him, she realizes.  All eagerly awaiting the one person Aelin’s been waiting her entire life for.  She wants to cheer, wants to clap, wants to do anything but stand there and stare.  She can’t.

Because walking across the stage to the electric piano set up in the corner is Rowan.  Rowan with his hair too long.  Rowan with an unlit cigarette behind one ear.  Rowan with his da’s guitar case by his side, even now.  Rowan with tan skin and tattoos reflecting in the pale light of the bar.  Her Rowan that she’s loved for longer than she can say.

He doesn’t look up as he adjusts the settings of the piano and strikes a few keys.  He messes with the microphone next, making sure it’s lined up the way he likes it. 

When he does look up, it’s as though he’s always expected to find her there.  It doesn’t take long at all for their gazes to meet, for his green eyes to burn under the yellow bar lights.  His lips part in silent surprise and Aelin feels her skin heat when he cocks his head to one side before finally, a small smile kicks up one corner of his mouth.

He leans in to the microphone—eyes never leaving hers.

“Fireheart,” he says. “I promised we’d find each other again.”

…

After

She’s lost again.

But not in the way she once was.

Because instead of being surrounded by her nightmares, she’s tangled up in strong arms that haven’t let her go in hours.  She’s lost in him like never before.

She doesn’t mind of course.  Because she’s lost in him this time.  Skin to skin, soul to soul.  And there’s no place she’d rather be.

Aelin sighs and burrows in closer to his side.  He smells of pine and snow just like always.  It’s better than her memories, being so close to him.  Better than anything she could have hoped for.  She never thought it would come to this. 

For so long she’d wandered through her life trying like hell to find her ways.  Too often it felt like she was drowning, scrambling for air, for salvation.

And then she’d met Rowan. 

She doesn’t blame him for leaving.  She told him as much when he tried to apologized.  Silenced him with her kisses, in fact. 

Somehow they made it back to his apartment—small and tucked above a Thai restaurant.  It didn’t take them long to rediscover each other.  For Rowan to find the new scars along her back, for Aelin to learn the paths of his new tattoos. It didn’t take long at all to fall together into bed and spend the night whispering promises into the neon lights that filtered through the bedroom drapes.

“Fireheart,” Rowan whispers, his soft voice enough to pull Aelin from her thoughts.

She looks up into his eyes, already smiling. “Buzzard.”

Rolling his eyes, Rowan runs a hand up her bare side, the calluses on his fingers catching her skin.  It’s enough to cause her to shiver which lights a new fire in Rowan’s gaze.

Whatever he was going to say is lost as he leans in and kisses her.  She reacts instantly, not that she can help it.  Everything about Rowan draws her in.  His mouth is insistent and teasing and his hands leave hot trails against her skin as he pulls her on top of him.

It’s only when they’re both gasping for air that they break apart.  Rowan brushes Aelin’s hair from her face, his large hand running across her cheek.

“What are you doing to me?” he asks.

Their next kiss is slow and languid and sends sparks shooting through Aelin’s entire body.

They don’t speak again until morning when dawn breaks and scatters sunshine across the bed.  But when they wake it’s with the knowledge that never again are they going to come apart.  They’ll be together across every mile, side-by-side.

end.

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taglist is a joke will reblog soon

#rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth23 #song fic #writtenwrites #fanfic #throne of glass #tog #mat kearney song

[raayllum]

2018 me put “ships in the night” by mat kearney on my S1 rayllum playlist and 2023 s5 playlist hype me would just like to thank them

Like ships in the night You keep passing me by Just wasting time trying to prove who’s right And if it all goes crashing into the sea If it's just you and me trying to find the light  Like ships in the night

#rayllum #s5 #AND I'M GONNA FIND MY WAY BACK TO YOUR SIDE #music #mat kearney #EVERY SONG JUST COMES BACK WITH A VENGEANCE #THIS. SURRENDER BY NATALIE TAYLOR #predictions achieved #TECHNICALLY #listen i love when i end up getting exactly what i want in a more specific way than i hoped for much later than i expected #it is. The Best #LIKE A SURPRISE BUT ALSO NOT REALLY A SURPRISE #a hearty chuckle of delight maybe

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

CASS SONG (gonna be patient but if no one else asks for batfam members I WILL return for the rest of them) and!!!! Fox Mulder!!!

for Cass: Survive by Madilyn Bailey

like roses we're only here for a moment/ ashes to ashes/ mountains will always need to be climbed/ but we only go one foot at a time/ our voices trying to be more than just noises/ echo to echo/ nobody gets to leave here alive/ don't just survive, don't just survive

and for Mulder: All I Need by Mat Kearney

if nothing is safe then I don't understand/ you call me a boy but I'm trying to be a man/ one more day and it's all slipping with the sand/ you touch my lips and grab the back of my hand/ the back of my hand

#CASS SONG CASS SONG #also mat kearney is SO important to me i have a whole post i could write about why I'm so attached to his music #but it's not the time ehkshdakjfakfb #Lu rambles #asks #ask games #music #send me a character and i'll give you a song #batfam #cass cain #txf

[hightideblues11]

Tagged by @jlmhopper , thank you! 😊😊

Post 5 songs in current heavy rotation, or that I rarely skip:

Tagging: @thebookofrach @chasingsmokeandreason @sianyface @begentlewithyou @i-n-t-e-g-r-a @faithandwonder @ceilingfans-andd-idlehands

If you would like to! 😊

#Spotify #music #tag

[djdangerlove]

Dear God!!! Please listen to this song and then come back and yell about how perfect it is for Buddie 😭😭

#buddie #song rec #Eddie’s song for buck I swear 😭 #Spotify

[enchantmentandshadows]

Elriel Month | Shy Glances & Unrestricted Touches

Word Count: 2,413

Content Warning: None

Theme: Fluffy & Sweet

Song Suggestion: “Tell Her You Love Her” - Echosmith Featuring Mat Kearney

“And just HOW do you know I was watching?” She asked haughtily, very aware that his warm hands still rested on her waist.

"What kind of Spymaster would I be if I DIDN'T notice?" He asked, looking down at her, the green in his hazel eyes looking especially vibrant in the garden. Elain's heart raced at his nearness, his touch, his scent.

Elain closed her eyes and smiled, tilting her head back to let the warm sun kiss her face. She didn’t fret when a gentle breeze took her sunhat, letting it fall to the grass as she dabbed a handkerchief over her neck. Today was a good day, they all were lately, each better than the last. She’d stopped counting the good days months ago, when they far exceeded the bad but she hadn’t stopped appreciating them. Every day she found something to be grateful for, something special, beautiful.

The quiet rustling of paper had the corners of her mouth quirking up as she turned to her normally very quiet companion. Today, she was grateful to have Azriel in the garden keeping her company. He sat back, one booted ankle crossed over the other as he read through a stack of reports. Though, presently, his eyes were on her instead of his reports, a faint blush creeping over his cheeks as his eyes darted back to the pages in his hands.

Elain couldn't help but admire the way the sun shone through his outstretched wings, filtering through in dark reds and golds. If she had Feyre’s talent, she thought, she’d paint him just like this. His wings shifted slightly and she quickly turned her attention back to the peonies she’d been tending lest she be caught staring. He was so easy to admire after all, so beautiful.

Elain blushed, mentally scolding herself for how often she thought of the Shadowsinger. Of his thick hair, always perfectly tousled as if even the wind couldn't help but run its fingers through it. She thought of his handsome face, his kind smile and eyes that seemed to see straight to her soul. She though of the strong arms that had carried her as if she were light as a feather and she thought of his hands. Strong but gentle hands she found so beautiful, hands she’d imagined on her bare skin more than a few times.

A light, that's exactly what Elain Archeron was. Even in the darkest of her days he’d seen it, an undying ember of hope that lived within her. It made her positively radiant beyond her obvious physical beauty.

Like calls to like. Maybe that's why even the sun seemed to worship her, bathing her in it's light while it basked in HER glow. The rays making her strands of honey gold hair glow as they wove through the soft brown curls cascading down her back. How many times had he dreamed about running his fingers through those thick tresses? More than he'd ever admit and too many to count.

He smiled to himself when his shadows whispered that she'd been watching him. Now he watched as she turned to the light, eyes closed as she let it warm her. He could almost imagine what it would feel like, to stand before her and press his lips to hers. How soft and warm that kiss would be, how sweet she would taste and what a kiss like that might mean. That maybe, Elain cared for him as much as he'd grown to care for her.

He took one last look at her before turning back to his reports, watching her weave through the garden in his periphery, listening to her soft footsteps and occasional humming, sometimes quietly joining her though he doubted she could hear.

"How are the new additions faring?" Azriel asked, his smooth voice drawing Elain's attention once more.

"Well," she began, clearly happy to have been asked. "The wisteria is positively thriving and the tulip bulbs you were kind enough to bring me from the continent are nearly ready to bloom. I've planted so many, it'll be like a sea of colors."

She went on about all her latest changes to the garden, pausing only when she thought she'd perhaps talked too much and had begun to bore him.

"I had no doubt they would thrive in your care." He offered with a smile, forearms resting on his knees as he listened to her with rapt attention. "Until we can get you to the continent, I'll bring the continent to you."

"One day." She said, offering him a shy smile and a nod of thanks. He knew what it meant to her, how long she dreamed of seeing the continent with her sisters. How she'd always imagined her father joining them. True, it wasn't the same as going, but the gesture was no less thoughtful, especially when he was likely away on important court business. That he'd thought of her at all touched her more than she would ever be able to tell him.

Azriel stood and stretched, his sun warmed wings extending before tucking back behind him. Elain admired his lean form, the wide sweep of his wings and the way the sun glinted off his cobalt Siphons and his eyes, eyes that were looking straight at her. She saw the faint color on his cheeks and Elain knew he'd caught her staring this time. Quickly, she turned her attention to the rose in her hand. Carefully, snipping it from the bush and laying it with the rest she'd collected.

"As usual you are too kind." She said nervously, snipping another rose. "I haven't planted the seeds you brought me from the Winter Court yet, I'm hoping I'll have better luck them when the weather cools."

Met with silence, she looked up to find him watching her now. She couldn't stop the blush she knew was creeping over her cheeks under his soft gaze. Her heart fluttered every time he looked at her like that, and lately that had been quite often.

Azriel took one step toward her, then another and another, his eyes never leaving hers. Those warm brown eyes, full of so much understanding, hope and love.

"And the roses, how are they coming along?" He asked, watching her delicate fingers trace along the edges of the petals before leaning in to take in its sweet scent.

"Perfectly happy here." She answered softly. "They had a bit of trouble at first but now their roots are strong, they're flourishing beautifully.

He couldn't help but think the same about her. How happy he was that she lovingly called the Night Court her home now. Even if in the dark recesses of his mind that fear still existed, that one day she might accept the bond and make a home for herself elsewhere. Far from Night. Far from him.

Her eyes flicked from the rose back to him and he took another step, as if waiting for her permission, as if she willed it so. Each step brought her into better view, no longer so hidden by the lush greenery of the garden.

"Az!"

She started as he froze, just close enough to spot the freckles that danced across the bridge of her nose.

"Cassian." He answered, turning toward his friend as he made to meet him halfway. So close.

Elain's heart sank as the distance between them grew, even as his shadow seemed to try to stretch to meet her before his retreat.  It was nothing, she told herself. A simple conversation like many they'd had before, there was nothing remarkable about today, nothing different...aside from that look.

She tried to busy herself with her roses again but it was no use. She hung on his every word, listening to him and Cassian discuss looming problems with the Illyrian forces. Selfishly, she hoped he wouldn't be sent away to help with those problems. As it was, she found that she already missed him on days he didn't turn up for family dinners.

Judging by his tone, Azriel didn't wish to oversee the Illyrians either. Not wanting to eavesdrop further on what seemed to be a tense conversation, Elain found herself wandering deeper into the garden until she could only faintly make out Azriel's voice. She let the timbre and cadence of it soothe her as she wandered and wove through, snipping and collecting blooms as she went. Eventually, she settled in a spot a safe distance away that allowed them privacy while she admired the garden and the Shadowsinger.

Azriel half listened to Cassian, in the end he knew Cass would unload all the mounting issues, but be the one to go. The one to face the Illyrian's ire for bothering to help. Azriel just didn't have it in him to pretend to play nice for long enough to get anything accomplished. He found he'd much rather be here, staring into the lovely brown eyes that now peered at him between flowering branches in the distance.

"Fine, I'll go." Cassian said without argument, "But next time you're coming with me. It'll be good for you." Cassian said, clapping him on the back.

"Next time." Azriel agreed with a nod, like he did every time they had this conversation.

Elain knew he'd seen her but she couldn't bring herself to look away, not until she pricked her finger on a thorn as she carelessly reached for another rose. She gasped, snatching her hand back and cradling it, a bead of crimson blood resting at her fingertip. She watched as the small wound quickly healed and used a clean handkerchief to wipe the tiny ruby of blood away.

She stilled for a moment, suddenly realizing the garden had gone quiet. She looked up, searching for any sign of Azriel, but he was gone. Likely back inside the manor with Cassian. She craned her neck, hoping he might have returned to his reports but his seat remained empty.

“Damn.” She breathed, not wanting their moment to have been cut so short. Not when it felt like some new version of what they were was ready to bloom. They regularly caught each other staring, shared secret smiles when no one else was watching. So many times he’d brushed by her, and she’d reached out, fingertips lightly brushing over his hand as he passed.

"Have you lost something?" Azriel's voice asked playfully from behind her.

She gasped and spun to face him, Azriel's hands gripping her waist, stopping her before she backed into the thorny roses she'd been hiding behind.

“Azriel,” She laughed, playfully scolding him. “You scared me half to death!"

“I apologize, Lady.” Azriel chuckled, not all sorry for catching her staring or for having an excuse to touch her.

“Yes, your laughing sounds very regretful.” She scolded, laughing herself.

“It’s difficult to have any regrets in my current position.” He admitted, his heart aching over how right this felt. Still, he had to be careful, Elain wasn’t just anyone, not to his family and not to him.

“I DO wonder,” He started, “How you could be startled at all.” A mischievous grin played at his lips. “You were watching so intently."

Elain narrowed her eyes even as a pretty blush colored her cheeks.

“And just HOW do you know I was watching?” She asked haughtily, very aware that his warm hands still rested on her waist.

"What kind of Spymaster would I be if I DIDN'T notice?" He asked, looking down at her, the green in his hazel eyes looking especially vibrant in the garden. Elain's heart raced at his nearness, his touch, his scent.

“Translation, YOU were watching ME.” She smiled up at him, looking too proud of herself.

“Every chance I get.” He admitted, the confession surprising them both.

"You're hurt." He said, before she could respond. His eyes resting on the hand she still cradled to her chest.

"Yes-no, I was." She clarified, stumbling over her words as he took her hand in his own, carefully looking it over.

"I pricked my finger is all." She says, sheepishly extending her now healed finger for him to see.

"Dangerous business, gardening." He said, heart thundering in his chest as he raised her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingertip. He didn't know what possessed him to be so forward, but neither did he regret it.

The softest touch of his lips on her skin sent a sparkling energy coursing through Elain.

Slowly, her lips parted as she silently watched him, wishing to feel his lips against hers next.

"But worth the risk." She breathed.

Unthinking, she stepped forward, resting her free hand on his chest, beside his glittering Siphon. If she were braver, she would pull him in and kiss him herself instead, she let the rhythm of his heartbeat steady her nerves as he pressed another kiss to the palm of her hand.

She couldn't stop herself then, from tenderly caressing his cheek as his hand ghosted down her forearm and came to rest on her waist again.

"The best things usually are." He answered, as he held up a freshly trimmed rose, no doubt magicked into his hand with the help of his clever shadows.

"Is that the one that pricked me?" She asked with narrowed eyes, settling into the comfort of their closeness.

"It had to be done.” He said, smiling as he carefully tucked it behind her ear, the soft peach rose looking perfect nestled in her golden brown curls.

Elain felt it then, that bravery she'd lacked earlier as she leaned forward. Azriel didn't dare back away, not even as his shadows whispered that the High Lady was fast approaching. No, he too leaned in, Elain’s fearlessness catching.

"Elain?!" Feyre called out.

 Elain's eyes widened as she turned to her sister's voice before glancing back at Azriel who was already backing away toward his shadows.

"Tomorrow?" He asked, offering an apologetic smile.

Elain nodded. "Dinner?" She asked, smiling as he nodded before disappearing into the shadows completely.

“Elain!  There you are!” Feyre called, smiling as she approached.

“Here I am.” Elain breathed, pulse still racing and skin flushed.

“I don’t know what you do out here for hours, everything looks perfect to me.” She said, gathering the flowers Elain had collected.

“Oh, just planting seeds, seeing what grows.” Elain answered quietly.

“Well, you’re as red as a rose, come inside and have lunch with me.” Feyre asked, nodding toward the house. Sensing she wouldn’t take no for an answer, Elain nodded, looping her arm through Feyre’s as they headed back.

On the way, Elain noticed Azriel’s stack of reports missing from his usual spot, her discarded sunhat sitting in its place. Tomorrow, she would see him again tomorrow and perhaps that boldness they both seemed to feel today would return tomorrow too.

#elrielmonth #elrielmonth23 #elriel #proelriel #elain #proelain #azriel #proazriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #elriel fic #elriel fanfiction #elriel fanfic #shyglances #unrestrictedtouching #elriel month 23 #elriel month

[weirdwildwonderland]

The hargreeves as song lyrics!!! <3

Luther-ho hey by the lumineers (“so show me family/all the blood that I will bleed/I don’t know where I belong/I don’t know where I went wrong”)

Diego- one heart by Mat Kearney (“tell me I’m more than just these scars I’ve known”)

Allison-cocaine Jesus by rainbow kitten surprise (“listen in, it isn’t when you’re taking for your names sake, Jesus, mary Magdalene, you are, are you ok?”)

Klaus- cough syrup by young the giant (“one more spoon of cough syrup now, oh/I’m losing my mind, losing my mind/losing control”)

Five- wind blown eyes by Jack Johnson (“these windblown eyes, finding it hard to see /there’s no straight lines out on this open sea”) 

Ben-cocaine Jesus by rainbow kitten surprise (“ in my head/in my head/I get lonely sometimes”)

Viktor-little lion man by Mumford and sons (“your grace is wasted in your face/your boldness stands alone among the wreck”)

#the umbrella academy #tua #diego hargreeves #hargreeves siblings #klaus hargreeves #allison hargreeves #luther hargreeves #number five #viktor hargreeves #ben hargreeves #tuaedit #rks lyrics #the lumineers #mat kearney #jack johnson #mumford and sons #this is a pretty thing I’ve made #kai’s edits

[valiantarcher]

Tagged by @theladywyn to do this music game - thank you!

Rules: if you get this, you have to put 5 songs you actually listen to. Then tag some of your followers.

I fluctuate a lot on the music I listen to, but here are a somewhat random assortment of songs that I've been returning to fairly frequently of late:

Here's a Health by Cara Dillon

Tam Lin by Coyote Run

The Highwayman by Loreena McKennitt

No Holly for Miss Quinn by Enya

Closer to Love by Mat Kearney

I am leaving an open tag for anyone who thinks this looks like fun. :)

#asks #theladywyn

[accidental-spice]

For the songs: Hera from Rebels, Hermann Gottlieb from Pacific Rim, aaand Zamira from u!

For Hera, Small Town Dreamer-- Lyndy's Song from Heartland

Hermann was a bit harder, I feel like I don't know him NEARLY as well as you, but I Am A Rock by Simon and Garfunkel seems about right!

You are SO sweet to send me one of my OCs, thank you💖💖 Zemira's is Runaway by Mat Kearney!

Thanks for the ask!!

#ask response #hera syndulla #hermann gottlieb #zemira kessden #swr #pacific rim #my ocs

[echoedcrosshairs]

Dark Redemption: Stranger’s Together - Part II

Summary: After Crosshair joined the empire you went looking for him and eventually found him but he wasn’t the man you remember, temporarily free from the empire Crosshair has to figure out whether he’s staying to make amends or rejoin the empire 🖤Smut with an Angsty Plot🖤

Warning: Cannon typical violence, Order 66, Pinning, former established relationship, emotional turmoil, eventually smut, Crosshair’s depression, Crosshair’s head wound, Happy Flashback. || This is a darker series ||

Word Count: 9k ~ Song Ships in the Night / Mat Kearney

Masterlist ~ Part I

Imaginary red speckled your hands as you searched them, Am I no better then him? I've see what he's capable of, the only one who truly knows and I'm willingly proposing to send him back. A short burst of maniacal laughter spilled out as your heart rate vibrated through your chest. You covered your free willed lips with your trembling hand but Hunter had already walked back in and sat on the beds edge next to you his tenderness squeezing your leg which helped settle your trembling form.

Hunter ignored Crosshairs shallow breathing in the door way when he spoke, "Are you sure you want to go down too why not just let him find his own way?"

"Penance," you whispered the black scar on your heart threatening to rip itself open again, "My Crosshair is gone..." your voice trialed off to finally met Hunter's concerned gaze, "but I have to know without a shred of doubt that monster isn't him."

"He's Crosshair," Hunter whispered answering the question.

"Are you sure Hunter?" You looked away, "I loved him, so much..."

"I know," Hunter replied letting go, "and he loved you," Hunter unfolded a tiny piece of paper and handed it to you, "as much as he tried to hide it."

Weakly you took the paper opening it to find another photo of the two of you together, a tender moment on a Naboo balcony his arm around your waist with his usual expression but their was no mistaking the look in his eyes. You could see the photo had been reopened several times with the deep crinkle marks, "Why did you never show me?" you asked still staring at it.

"Incase there was ever a day you doubted it. Keep it," Hunter stood up staring down at the photo, "Tech says preparing to land." You followed Hunter out taking the available seat.

"Any particular area?" Tech asked as all of you entered the atmosphere.

"There's a small town near the port I'm fond of."

"When where you here long enough to be fond of one?" Crosshair said looking at you.

"Wouldn't you like to know, snarky," the teasing endearment fell out, your upper lip twitched into a sneer before typing in the coordinates for Tech. You felt Crosshair's eyes searing into you as you slide back into your seat. You brought your leg up setting your cheek on it as you unfolded the picture. A small genuine smile gracing your face as you looked at it, not just because of the intimacy captured in the photo but how it had become a playful game between the brothers to catch these moments. How simple life had been. You folded the photo back up and tucked it your pocket finding Omega standing over you who had also been looking at the photo.

"You both look happy."

"Prying is rude, Omega" you replied flatly, "but yes."

"This place is a dump," you heard Echo grumble, looking up you smiled finding the city the same before the Empire, "Are you sure? There has to be better areas."

"No one would think twice of looking for us here. I'll take a com and my go pack," you looked at Echo's grumpy expression as Tech landed. Echo had always been your closes confidant and best friend especially in Crosshair's absences. He was the first out of his seat hugging you ignoring Crosshair's glare that it went on a couple moments to long. "See you later, Corporal," you said cheerfully, goodbye was to final but you both knew the odds. He didn't say anything when he let go giving you a solider's nod which he only reserved for Captain Rex. You would have sworn Wrecker broke a rib picking you up.

"Last chance," Hunter whispered hugging you once the three of you got to the ramp.

"If I die, bury the photos in my place. Don't hate him for it," you swallowed feeling him go ridged, you pulled back giving him a kiss on the cheek, "Take care of Omega, she can have my cookie stash."

"What didn't you tell us," Hunter said deadlocking his grip around your arm knowing their was more to the story as it seemed to lead in a more finale direction.

"I just told you," Hunter's eyes fell to Crosshair who was rigidly postured like a solider waiting for the next set of orders, "I wouldn't have it any other way," Hunter's hands fell to fist at his side, "You were a squad long before I joined and will be afterwards," you stated resisting the urge to embrace the sergeant again.

Descending the ramp was different this time, it was just a mode of transportation to the reality below but this time is a stairway to hell deciding your punishment. They weren't steps, they were echoes of the souls secrets waiting to be judged. You wondered if any sane person would rationally walk towards their possible death before you looked to him, the former soldier of the Republic had done many suicide mission and came back, maybe that was what this was a suicide mission. Consequently whatever this was didn't matter, depending on the outcome. The bags under his eyes were heavy, the small lines in his face more define but how he carried himself showed a broken man steeling himself to the world. You caught him eyeing you in return, shifting your gaze back to the city you silently lead both of you to a hotel. The building was far from fancy but it had a secret reputation.

"A black room if possible, two beds, three nights," you said slipping him a tiny pouch, the man unphased opened it and handed you a key to the suite, "Yes I know the way," you smiled before he could ask.

Both of you went to the fair side of the building ascending the hidden staircase behind a portrait. Crosshair remained silent studying the surroundings as both of you found the black door with the number matching the key. Everywhere else had the generic slide open door however these were old and manual. He took the key from your semi trembling hand and opened it without a word letting you enter first. He took the bed closes to the window, he sat there watching the industrial city move about as small ships flew about and speeders glide.

"I'll find you something less suspicious to wear, are your measurements still the same?" Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, he gave you a small nod as he flicked a tooth pick into his mouth, "I'll be back in thirty."

He wanted to follow after you but this soldiery time would give him time to think how much had happened today and wonder what was in the pouch. Undoing his armor, he left it in small stacks on the poor excuse for a coffee table as it wobbled lightly at the weight. Just in his blacks he felt naked, overly overexposed to the unknown world around him. He placed himself in the sofa staring at the ceiling, little bits of memory of his life prior to the empire resurfacing. A kiss, a passionate night, fighting, droids, then came the abandonment, loneliness and finally the rage at his brothers but Hunter told him you weren't them. Crosshair replayed your conversation with Hunter what seemed to be a hundred times before it fell into place, if he was ordered too could he? With the chip he could do it as easy as breathing but now without it, he wondered if he still had the resolve. It was to late when he noticed he had curled in on himself when the door opened. When you spend so much time with a person you recognize their tells just from bodily language alone after all this time Crosshair scolded himself for his still being the exact same. He grumbled a noise uncurling himself noticing your eyes peeled themselves from his finely shaped figure and snatched the bag from your hand, "You wish I was that ugly," he snarked. Neatly laying out the new apparel it was reminiscent of time he chose to forget, moments that use to haunt his waking hours in the night. The plan black pants and dark maroon turtle neck fit him best in the moment, he grabbed them and took himself to the refresher to change.

"Only if I could tell if your heart is," you whispered once you heard the door shut. Out of muscle memory you refolded the clothes setting them out in a stack before grabbing your simple entire from the other bag.

"What are those," Crosshair said flatly noticing the still healing blemishes speckled across your shoulders.

"Ask Admiral Rampart," you snapped pulling the shirt quickly on, "Surprised you didn't see us when you walked pass," you knew you shouldn't have said it but the provocation was already out hanging in the air.

"What!" he seethed before backing you into the wall glaring down at you caging you with his arms and his eyes narrowed to slits.

Glaring back at him, "You heard me just fine."

Crosshair's mind flicked to a report he'd accidentally seen on Ramparts desk that he tried to hide, an escaped insurgent and remembered the chipper attitude of the Admiral prior, "What do you know."

"Everything."

His arms dropped, backing away he stuck a fresh tooth in his mouth. Burying his emotions he let his face go blank, "Everything?" he asked flatly not looking at you. Everything to range from absolutely nothing to everything.

"For a man with impeccable eyesight, you didn't see the probe droids."

Crosshair gave a curt nod looking at you looking for any semblance of a lie or sign of rejection but it was like looking in the mirror, nothing. Everything. He looked down at the perfectly stacked clothing, somethings never change even after knowing everything. He took the stack of clothing and put them in the dresser on his side of the bed. Three nights? "What's the plan?" He droned.

"Well I plan to go on a stroll, maybe hit a cantina and a decent dinner. You're free to tag along, or head home, or find company to keep yourself occupied, I hear imps often enjoy the... riveting company" the jab obvious, "However I plan to soak this place in one more time," you shrugged slipping the key into your pocket.

"Have you?" He asked quietly.

"No," you opened the door noting the hesitation before he accompanied you. Electing to ignore the silence, "Ever been here?"

He contemplated the answer and lack of the return question on the matter, "Once."

Pondering if there was a double meaning you looked at him, Crosshair always had the best Sabacc face. Sneaking out the hotel your feet guided you towards an old Cantina on the other side of town. Taking in the bustling little city, it seemed so raw untouched by the empire unlike the other major cities around this one hadn't been collected into the fold yet because there was no strategic value or assets here. One could describe it as beautiful while Echo described it as a dump, to most it was still beautiful no flags hung, no soldiers stationed and no clogged roads for Imperial transports. It was difficult to tell the difference between the natural wind and speeders but after being on a ship so long then only having the freedom to smell the smoke of Kamino it was a lavishly sensation. Noticing an approaching speeder over head, you raised your arms your finger tips catching in the strong wind gusting past and your heart rate picked up at the sensation. Sighing you brought your arms down tucking them at your sides, ignoring Crosshair's questioning expression and impeccable soldier posture, "You need to relax, you stick out like gundark in a room of banthas."

"Don't tell me what to do," he scowled but attempted to relax his posture anyway.

"Says the one listening," you pointed out noticing the tension in his shoulders fading.

"Why three nights?" he got the nerve to ask.

"I'm figuring either you sneak off tonight and contact the empire or we have time to... get to know one another."

"You know me," he said squinting.

"In another life perhaps," you asked looking at him, "know you however? I do not."

Crosshair studied you, "What makes you say that?" he asked watching you stop and stare at him.

You touched the scarred webbing across the side of his head before bringing your hand back to your side, "You're not the same after all of that, you can't be," was all you managed to get out, "I saw everything you did for the sake of that wretched Empire. My Crosshair never would have never slaughtered innocents, wouldn't have followed so blindly... he would never be you."

His hand vice gripped your hand tugging you towards him, "Do you think I had a choice in the beginning," he snarled flashing the scaring, "They knew it activated and never came for me, abandoned me to become a monster for the empire because they prioritized her, the child they didn't even know over me. My brothers," he spat, "betrayed everything we stood for. I had no where else to go," venom laced his words while rage contorted his face, "At least with the Empire I know where I truly stand. Then there's you," he growled, "Treating me as if I'm gone, discarded just like they did to me. You're no better."

"You're right, I am no better. I'm giving you, a monster, an opportunity to survive knowing the devastation you've left in your wake," you hissed back, "I know you didn't have a choice in the beginning, but you do now" you studied him watching the calculation of answers reeling across his face, the rage softening, "You don't have to go back to your brothers and you don't go back to the empire."

"We're both monsters then," Crosshair choose his words carefully, "Neither of us are the same." Do you want to forsake what we had because of what I've had to become to survive? The question died on his tongue, "Why?"

"I'm not ready to give up on Crosshair, I may mourn him but that doesn't mean I'm ready to forget what we had," he didn't even need to ask the question both of you had always had similar trains of thought, "Even knowing everything I know, he is the only thing that kept me going during Rampart's sessions trying to break me." Without thinking about it Crosshair lured you to his barely breathing chest ignoring the public setting as letting his lips brush against yours for a split moment before resting his chin on your forehead.

The speech center of your brain check out for the day at his outburst even through the new clothes aroma he still managed to smell the same. As quick as the outburst had started it ended, he took his arms off of you and backed away as if nothing had happened and started walking. Dazed, you followed after him not sure at this point who was leading who to where. The solidness of him shook you, he was here, alive, not just ghost haunting your memories or a shadow lurking just out of reach. You stumbled over to the nearest ally way, hunched against whatever building trying to get a hold of your spinning head while your stomach grew a swarm of butterflies. How could just a smell do this, but it wasn't just the smell but the eruption of emotions caused by the lips and arms of a ghost. What is happening. You saw him lean against the side of the building looking down at you, "What, thinks it's funny?" You breathed.

"No, let's go back to the hotel," Crosshair kept a collected expression as he recognized the signs.

"If I move I think I'm going to be sick."

"Wouldn't be the first time I've seen you sick," he

mumbled pulling you away from the wall and waiting but a warning never came. Keeping an awkward grip on you, Crosshair maneuvered both of you up in the discreet hotel room above. He placed you next to the refresher feeling your weak grasp clinging to his pants ankle, "Cross," he heard you say weakly noticing how paled your skin looked. He got down sitting next to you, "Yes?" he observed you laying down, setting your head in his lap. Both of you remained silent, but he saw some of your color return. Interesting, he thought. Cross, she said my name. His eyes went wide as he observed your clammy skin and he brought his fingers to your rapid pulse, "What do you need?"

"Nothing," you pulled up disgusting by the show of weakness, awkwardly crawling your way into your bed.

"What do you need." He repeated.

"I need Crosshair," you said tucking your arm under the pillow holding onto it not bothering to peel your clothes as you crawled under the covers. Finger tips finding the photo tucked away in your pocket, you pulled it out and stared at it.

Before you could put it away he snatched it out of your grasp sitting back on his own bed looking down at it, "I'm right here," he muttered staring at it before setting it on the nightstand, "move," he growled peeling his shirt and pulling back the covers climbing in. The sensation of having someone so close made his skin feel as if beetles were trying to burrow out as he pulled your stiff form to him, "relax," he realized how ironic it was due to his rigid nature. Pulling your face to his bare chest, he tangled his legs around yours as he held your waist. Crosshair let out a deep breath as he felt the palm of your hands warm against his chest, finger tips just barely burrowing into him and face pressing into him. He didn't need Hunter's hearing to hear the well practiced silent sobbing, "Cyar'ika," he whispered letting his hand attempt to make soothing circles.

Your hands had a mind of there own as they pushed against him as you stared up meeting the no longer familiar eyes but you saw it just the faintest silver of light in the darkness, "CT-"

"Crosshair," he growled trying to keep the anger from reaching his facial muscles with little result, but it wasn't anger pointed towards you it was towards what Rampart did to both of you. He let you push him stiffening not knowing what you were going to do, "You'll never see me, accept me," forgive me he said flatly detangling himself from you moving to his own bed staring at the ceiling. His fingers traced the familiar tattoo on his face, one you had touch countless times wondering if it was time to also get it removed. He wanted to curse the maker but couldn't find the words to do so that didn't make him curse himself in the process. Slowly everything he was getting ripped away piece by piece and there was nothing he could do about it. He pinched the bridge of his nose squeezing his eyes shut, your whispered confession pulling him out of his thoughts abruptly, "In the darkness hours of the night, I thought of you," he wouldn't repeat what you had said, "the chip didn't take you from me," it was as close to a confession as he could get. He looked over at you, "Were you and Hunter or Echo...?" His stomach dropped at the question that had been gnawing at him at how close you seemed to either of them. It felt like there was more to the story other then just being a squad because there was something there that he couldn't put his finger on.

"No, when you left... Echo is the one who tried to console me so I could keep going, he's my best friend, he was the first person who saw me when they rescued me. Hunter is just Hunter, he's worried about me being with you" you admitted.

"Would you have if I never..." came back?

"No," the answer was quick and precise, "my heart and loyalty was to Crosshair."

"If it wouldn't have been the chip, would you have come with me?" he asked returning his attention to the ceiling.

This time you looked at him, perfect skin, the narrow arch of his nose, a jaw line so sharp it could be use to cut plastoid but there were also unmistakable bags under his eyes, from regretful nights to long missions you couldn't tell. "They asked me that too," you said returning your attention to the ceiling, "My Crosshair would have never joined, at least deep down that's what I hope."

"He's a soldier, what else is there besides war?"

"A family? Kids? Normalcy?" You rattled off several more things knowing it fell on deaf ears.

"Didn't answer the question."

"Don't think I would have lasted long seeing how they treat civilians and clones."

"So you would have betrayed me?"

"I would be betraying the Empire, Crosshair. Everything isn't as black and white as your narrow mind thinks it is."

"Narrow mind?" he sat up glaring, "Betraying the Empire would be betraying me."

"Except Crosshair isn't the Empire, he's just a wheel in a cog propelling it. He's just a man not a concept sweeping the galaxy in eternal dictatorship," you watch his eyes squint but he laid back down.

"I don't think we should talk politics."

"We should before you execute me, make me understand your reasoning."

"I wouldn't."

"Then you would be betraying the empire by going against an order," you stated seeing the contemplation reeling across his face, "when it's given, that is."

He heard his knuckles pop from how hard his fist were clenched, "You claim not to know me, yet you risk your life for mine?" he growled, "What's the point in remembering, if I don't exist?" he got up facing the wall laying his hands flat against it resting his forehead against, "The universe is erasing me, just another meaningless clone in the masses" he whispered. It was the whisper of a man on the verge of snapping. His palm hit the wall leaving an noticeable crack.

You sat up staring at his muscular back, the tension knots visible, "Says the man who will barely look at me and wants nothing to do but pick fights," you watched him spin on his heel standing to full height, very step calculated as he moved as he stared down his jaw set as he leaned down getting face level with you.

"I've never been one for words," grabbing a tooth pick from his pocket he stuck it between his lips waiting to gauge your reaction to the proximity. You're eyes were trapped on him, a memory of a smiled pulled at his lips. The first real one he'd had in a long time, "This is what you wanted," he said noticing the tiny hint of fear in your features. He leaned in, "Omega is right, I don't recognize you either but at least I'm trying."

You bit the end of the tooth pick sliding it between your own tooth, "You don't think I am either."

"No."

You let out the breath, "You're right, all I see is who you've become because I can't see who you were. The man in that photo had love in his eyes for me but you don't seem too," the dagger in his heart twisted, "Crosshair loved me but I don't think you do. I think your chasing a memory to hope to feel something again," the dagger ripping out his still beating heart.

He plunked the toothpick out of your mouth snapping it with his fingers before casting it to the ground, "Are you actually going to force me to say it back?" Crosshair whispered letting fingers found your chin forcing his facial features soften. His face barely felt like his own anymore, the vulnerably and raw emotion he let show across it were so foreign compared to his usual demeanor. Weakness was everything he tried to cull in himself serving the Empire because it wasn't a luxury he couldn't afford anyone to know. Attachment, love, remorse and the unyielding presence of guilt that kept him up in the dead of night regardless of how much he tried to shove it aside it forever lingered on the edge of his consciousness. He waited letting you take in the love, pain and the ache of desperate longing he felt deep with in the dark confines of his broken soul.

His hand was cold against your face but you didn't pull away. You stared at him while the darkness in his eyes was a remainder there was still a beast inside part of who he use to be was fronting. The grip softened, dropping to his knees  forcing himself to look up at you. Confessions of his bared soul laid before you to judge. Silently begging you to deem him as sinner so he could find his penance before begging for the salvation of only thing that could stitch together the remnants of his shattered soul, love. There were no secrets, every transgression you were already privy to. You didn't recognize this side to him, grabbing his hand you pulled you him back up towards you onto the bed. Fingers dug into him pulling him close except this time he was the one who silently wept as he downturned his face into the pillow.

"Cross," you breathed pressing your face into the center of his chest. You felt his legs wrap around yours and his arms cage you, he didn't want you to see him like this and you weren't going to force him to let you.

Finally pain stopped shedding from his once barren tear ducks, his eyes found the wet spot in the pillow and flipped over the pillow to hide the annoyance of the outburst. His thin fingers found the collar of your shirt, he paused for a moment with your tense at the touch before he proceeded to open the collar staring at the injection marks. They will vanish with time. His jaw clamped at the frustration you had been right there next to him for who knows how long and how far everyone went to hide it. He wasn't stupid enough to look you up in the system and when he did ask they had side stepped the question. I am a soldier, stop being so soft. She's capable of handling herself, she knew what could happen. Crosshair let out a deep everlasting breath composing himself. He let himself indulge on the feeling on your warm breath against his pectoral muscles as your fingers clung to him almost in fear that he would disappear if you let go. Two strangers with a lifetime of memories, which once transcended what Crosshair ever thought possible for himself, who both now clung to the specter of the other trying to find any semblance of that lifetime in this one. He wasn't a fool, his story would never have a happy ending but for now he could at least have a tiny slice of what was.

"Do you want to try going out again?" he asked releasing the possible double meaning of his uncarefully spoken words, "I could use a drink," he added.

"Yeah," you pulled away not able to look at him. You fluffed out his shirt and handed it to him. Feeling his slender form blocking your path to door, you finally looked up at him. His face at regained his regular snarky yet stern appearance but you could see the traces of red in his sclera. You watched him put his shirt one, his eyes only for a brief moment breaking contact as he stood there silently observing. "Yes?" you finally asked after he continued not to move.

"We'll never be who we were before," he said this time attempting to choose his words carefully, "If the war has taught me anything, it is anything can be rebuilt with time," he turned leaving you there for moment to ponder his words as he headed for the exit.

You followed after him wondering if he meant the two of you or the Empire. He had always been allusive with his wording, leaving it open ended and up to interpretation when it came to anything that wasn't on the battle field. Noticing his rigid posture return you caught up to his side flicking his shoulder. Hearing a small grunt you saw them relax. Instead of walking this time, you hailed a cab to the cantina. Scowling when you saw the disapproving eyebrow arch of his when the both of you exited the cab at the dingy place. He let you guide him inside, the place was reminiscent of 79's. You walked up to the counter to order drinks surprised when he followed you up.

"Corellian Whiskey," he said before you got the chance to speak.

You arched an eyebrow, "Make that two," you said putting the credits down. The bar tender took them and handed both of you the shots, downing them you both did another around. Crosshair tapped for two more before both of you wandered off to a nearby table.

"Why this place?"

"Just call me sentimental."

"This is boring," Crosshair murmured feeling out of place without a talkative group.

"Dance?" you asked nonchalantly remembering how at peace he seemed on the dance floor.

"Don't have to ask me twice," he said getting out of the seat.

"Actually if you remember, I did."

"You have two left feet and no rhyme."

"You were slow dancing to techno."

"And?"

You rolled your eyes, a pit forming in your stomach at how easy the banter was after all this time realizing how deeply you missed it. Staying on the outskirts of the floor both of you had fallen into step, thankful that your feet remembered even if your mind had almost forgotten saving you the embarrassment of stepping on him. The touch of his hands where cool in contrast with the fire in his gaze. You removed one of your hands from his placing it on his waist and he responded in kind doing the same. His fingers slide up your shirt just barely to where his thumb and index finger rested on your skin, solidifying you were really there. You moved your hand up to his neck letting your fingers dip under the turtle neck barely.

Cautiously Crosshair took one step closer hovering above your face, "Cyar'ika," he whispered ignoring the harshness of the alcohol on his tongue leaning in letting his mouth hover over yours.

"I think you drank a little to much," you whispered but didn't pull back.

"No," he whispered letting his whole hand trail up to your curve while his mouth bridged the tantalizing gap. His mouth was desperately locking with yours, almost a year apart had almost made him forget the sensation of you.

You pulled away panting, "You can't be kissing me like that in public," the words came out slurred not due to the alcohol but the mind numbing sensation of him.

"I can and will," he said pulling your mouth back to his.

You felt the gentle pressure of his tongue press against your lips, your heart was already going light speed but you opened your mouth for him. You let his tongue explore as much as he needed it too, gently time to time nipping down on his tongue playfully. By the time he pulled away your hand was trembling on his neck. Both of you were panting as you looked at each other. Without realizing it you had started crying, "Crosshair." His arms were around you in a moment guiding you away from the crowded dance floor towards an empty both. You watched him flag down the service droid for some napkins. Your fingers bunched the shoulder of his shirt, you wanted to hate yourself for needing him after everything you've witnessed but there was nothing else in this galaxy that could fill the void in your chest except his presence.

Gently his hand covered yours, "What do you need?" He had never been a comforting person, less so now but he always tried.

Your fingers unbunched his shirt just enough to barely pound his shoulder with the side of your hand before you talon cling to the fabric again, "Are you really... Crosshair...?" you choked out.

"Unless you know someone else with that name," he verbalized pressing his teeth together.

"Are you... my Crosshair," you clarified.

"Since day one."

~ Days of the Republic; Reassignment ~

The Corellian Well Cantina, you scoffed at the name as you pushed open the unfamiliar door. Spirits burnt the hairs of your nostrils with the spiced scent of whiskey and poorly mopped up over indulgences. The lighting was less then ideal for this priority meeting nor the atmosphere but discretion had been of the utmost importance for whatever reason. Taking in the clientele you didn't see any familiar facial features of the man you were looking for. Playing on your data pad trying to pass time until you heard the familiar clone voice standing at the end of the table. Shocked you blinked rapid finding him in civilian clothing, one's that definitely were borrowed, and a poor fitted hat but the face, the voice and the scar killed the doubt of who was standing before you.

"Com- Cody," you whispered motioning for him to sit.

"Sorry for all the secrecy," he said scooting in besides you, "but this unfortunately requires it for the time being," he passed you a data pad, "You're being reassigned to a Kaminoan black ops squad, Experimental Unit 99, effective immediately as their handler."

"Sir?! My other-."

"Everything has already been taken care of. We head to Kamino when your finished reading."

"Do you vouch for this?" you stared into the eyes of best man and friend you've known since joining GAR.

"I have taken them personally on black list missions. Their not like my men and I, their wild and unorthodoxed but unquestionable resolve, determination and they get results we need. I vouch for them and you taking this assignment."

You nodded turning on the pad, eyes going wide reading about their individual enhancements, "I didn't even know that was possible," you were aware that commando's were made differently and enhanced but nothing like this. Barely done reading Cody was already tugging on your sleeve to leave. You followed him with your face still in the pad reading their personality profiles scowling once you read Crosshair's, "He's going to be fun," you grumbled.

"Crosshair?" Cody smirked seeing the small nod.

"Trust me, you've worked with Neyo. Crosshair pale's in comparison."

"Is this my apology for you assigning me that asshole?" You deadpanned.

"More or less, these boys could change the tide in this war. However their.. lack of people skills and lack of following direct orders posses a problem."

"Which is why I'm going to be the diplomatic buffer," you sighed, "You're lucky you're my favorite."

The jump to Kamino was silent, by then the Commander had stripped himself of the civvies back into his white and orange armor, "They'll be making their debut soon, with you officially now on this assignment I wouldn't be surprised if they moved it up but it'll give you time to meet them."

You've been on Kamino before but the path you were taking was foreign. It was the service passages, 99... you bowed your head for a moment of silence for the man who once roamed these halls. Catching back up to the Commander you saw he was thinking about him too, the stern expression but the distance in his eyes. He was just letting his body just guide him through his halls. "I'm glad you trusted me for this assignment," the interruption was enough to pull him out of his head as you recalled that he was here at the bold attack of Kamino.

"They won't be here much longer as their getting our own barrack room with everyone else," Commander Cody knocked on the ancient door before letting the both of you in. They were already standing at attention when the both of you entered, "Woman in company," he said your name then repeated each of there's as a formality even though you had already read their files, "At ease," quickly they relaxed sitting back at the large table in the center, "All of your stuff is in the room next door."

You rolled your eyes, "Of course it is."

"I'm the sarcastic one," you looked up to see the grey haired man rolling a toothpick to the other side of his mouth smirking eying you over the dismantled weapon he was cleaning.

"Technically she wasn't being sarcastic but-"

"Shut up," Crosshair grumbled.

"Tech's head is full of knowledge he likes to dump at every opportune moment, you'll get use to it," Hunter said studying you trying to get accustom to your scent and sound, "or use to drowning it out."

"That knowledge has saved our lives on multiple occasions-."

"We get it four eyes," Crosshair said flicking his tooth at his brother who batted it away without looking. He returned his attention for the most part back to the weapon keeping you in his peripheral vision amused that Wrecker ran over picking you up squeezing you before dropping you back down.

"Huh, you're small."

"Astute as always, Wrecker," Crosshair grumbled.

"Everyone is small compared to you," you pointed out smiling.

"That's true," Wrecker admitted going back to his seat.

"There all yours," Cody laughed, "Boy's, this your personally assigned liaison. Since you don't have a chain of command to report to, she'll be the middle man."

"I am quiet capable of handling and reporting our assignments," Tech said defensively.

"What does this civvie know about the war?" Crosshair said pointedly.

"This civvie," you said curtly, "has been apart of GAR probably longer then your creation, so really what do you know about this war?" you tossed back.

"She's served with the 91st Mobile Reconnaissance Corps during the Battle of Geonosis and as aid of the 212th since. I expect you to treat her respect," Cody eyed him.

"Crosshair didn't mean any disrespect ma'am," Hunter tossed a glare at his brother.

"I've had read his file, I am aware of his quips but thank you."

"Good luck," Commander laughed, "I have to get back, I'll send Neyo your regards."

"You can send him to hell instead," rapidly batting your lashes at him.

"He's already going there," Cody coughed under his breath waving as he left.

Hunter at pulled out another chair offering you a place to sit. He hadn't taken his eyes off of you since you entered the room. None of them had been around female nat borns as all of their instructors had been males and even when they had gone off world on assignment they mostly ran into separatist forces. On the occasional they had ran into the native inhabitants Commander Cody had dealt with them and Tech for his helmet translator. Hearing Tech whisper that staring was impolite, he finally turned his attention back to the vibro blade he had been sharpening.

"This is weird," Wrecker nervously chuckled.

"There is nothing we can do, we must accept her assimilation into this squad and continue," Tech replied trying the chess board, singly playing it by himself as that was the only way it was stimulating, "Perhaps some training simulations to test her aptitude in combat?" Tech purposed.

"Let's show her how a real squad handles themselves," Crosshair smiled reassembling his fire puncher.

"Practice or live rounds?" you folded your arms over your chest.

"Li-," Crosshair started before Hunter interjected, "Practice."

"Boring," you scoffed, "I'll grab my gear, sim room 2b good enough?"

"Yes that shall suffice," Tech nodded standing up from him game grabbing his helmet off his buck.

You saw Hunter cock an eyebrow when you said boring but before he got a chance to question it you turned dipping into the room next store, smirking when your armor attachments had already been laid out. Cody had probably assumed this was going to happen sooner or later. You flicked on the familiar armor sliding the various weapons into place. Each of them were already armored up by the time you were done and waiting outside the room, "I would have caught up."

"Sure," Crosshair said sarcastically.

"I'm not the old man," you shrugged pointing at the silver peppered with night and salted with light hair much to his offense.

"Haha she called you old," Wrecker said clapping his brothers back.

You noticed the glaring squint in his eye as you entered the training room, "I'll take west, you take east end?" you smiled at the sniper, who only rolled his eyes, "Your loss."

All of you waited in the center of the room waiting for the droids to activate. The boys were saying something but the adrenaline had already awoken shooting through your blood stream. The moment the droids activated all of you were off. Much to the annoyance of Crosshair you beat him to and up the west tower.

"Knife!" Crosshair called staring at the droid in Tech's blind spot watching you instinctively throw it at the droids head, he shot the knife watching it drop perfectly into the droids skull.

From the perch above the two of you worked in unison picking off droids, Hunter was impressed by the advanced skill. Recon officer? Hardly. He saw Crosshair eyeing you from across the battlefield, one eye on the battle field, one eye on you the whole time. There was an very noticeable shift in the group with the new addition, especially with Crosshair. Hunter felt the shot before his eyes had captured what had transpired, a droid actually climbing up to Crosshair's advantage point then you taking a shot at the droid wizzing passed Crosshair's ear. He turned for a moment watching the droid fall to the ground before returning his attention to the battle. Always watching his brothers back, he often forgot to watch his own not that he would never admit it.

Wreckers jaw slacked witnessing it, "Did you see that?" hollered to Tech.

"That's never happened before, both the droids climbing nor Crosshair missing such an obvious-."

"Shut up," Crosshair seethed through the com, thankful the simulation ended. He jumped down bouncing between the wall and the tower and sliding down to the center platform. Slinging his fire puncher across his back he watched you poorly climb down the tower and head there way. At least she doesn't have all of my tricks, Crosshair thought.

"I am impressed," Tech admitted once you had caught up.

"Marshal Commander Neyo is unrelenting in training."

"So I've read," Tech said staring at the clone's profile, "I think that simulation has provided me with enough data that I can make an accurate assessment of your combat skills without needing another trial run."

"She got lucky," Crosshair sneered removing his helmet.

"I think you got lucky."

"Oh I haven't gotten that lucky yet" he leered in your ear walking pass sticking a toothpick between his lips.

"I wouldn't blame you for suddenly being reassigned," Hunter grimaced staring after his brother.

"I'm use to it," you shrugged staring after the enigmatic man. There was something dark stalking his uncommonly dark irises compared to his brothers, a lone predator always circling but never pouncing. While his brothers eyes echoed burning bark, Crosshair's were the color of the forest floor riddled with hidden dangers. While Neyo's eyes terrified you to even look at, Crosshair's made you want to study them whether it was face to face or under a microscope was still up for debate.

"Something in your mind?" Hunter smiled staring at your lost in thought expression.

"Huh? Oh nothing, just wondering how the boys are reacting to my reassignment."

"Your scent says different," he chuckled, "His too."

"I already hate this."

"Between Hunter's senses and our close proximity to one another, there is never any secrets between us. There is never such thing as privacy with us just so you are aware," Tech pointed out.

"You're slow," Crosshair mumbled from his bunk.

"So is your charm Cross," you said sliding back into the chair digging out your pad finding a short 'Congrats on the promotion,' from Neyo. Anything is a promotion away from you, you were tempted to type back but instead going the safe route saying thank you.

Hours later the boys were ready to turn in for the night so you excused yourself from their quarters disappearing into your own, it was cramped having an apartments worth of stuff cramped into the small space. Even though Cody or whoever had tried to perfectly replicate the set up it just hadn't felt relaxing enough to sleep. You took yourself up the ship docking bay watching the waves crash against the wall.

"Where do you think you're sneaking off too?" Crosshair mused joining you at the railing after he had discreetly slipped from the bunk room after hearing the faint opening on your door curious if you were leaving after his comment.

"Somewhere far away from you," you said sarcastically.

"You didn't go far enough," he poked back failing to hide the amusement at your witty tone relaxing that you weren't upset with him.

"Excuse me, let me just go grab my bathing suit," you rolled your eyes finding his for a moment looking into yours.

"Is it black?" he said mischievously.

"Like I'd tell you."

"I rather you show me."

"Step on a duresteal bolt," momentarily the soldier was standing in front of you glaring. The darkness consumed his eyes but sparkled his frosted hair. Long thin fingers gripped your chin, you watched as he turned shooting his toothpick into the ocean below before his attention returned to you.

"I'm the sarcastic one in this squad."

"We'll see," the comment turned his blood to a consuming flame. Crosshair wasn't use to anyone challenging him let alone anyone competent enough to keep up with them or enough to watch his back. He waited but you didn't pull back, a predatory smile tugged at his lips, "Go to bed, Cyar'ika," he pulled away, the pounding of his heart barely keeping his breathing even. His eyes caught your confusion at the sudden lack of physical contact and the pet name, "Did you think I was going to kiss you?" he let out one laugh trying to conceal the nerves threatening to spill over, "Not on the first date," he added before you had a chance to speak before weak limbed walking himself back to his bunk.

"Calling dibs?" He heard Hunter chuckle.

"Shut up," he menaced.

"Not pairing I forecasted," Tech muttered taking out his pad, "statistically you two had the lowest probability, I shall need collect further data about her."

"Shut up," Crosshair repeated.

"You would be teasing one of us, Crosshair if the roles were reversed."

"No I would be shooting one of you," he snarked, his lip twitching up into a sneer already uncomfortably with the thoughts of them being around you knowing if his mind was this clouded their's had to be the same way, "Go to bed," he growled turning towards the wall. His mind was foggy with anticipation he saw across your face regardless of his poor attitude and how perfect you looked on the tower as much as his failure to notice the droid enraged him. He was astonished at how quick you responded to the threat and didn't seem to hold the failure over his head nor hesitated coming to his defense even after his generally rude behavior. Out of all them, he was the last one who deserved a chance but he may have been cocky enough to believe he was the handsomest out of the bad batch. At some point during his self scolding he had passed out not before realizing how far he had fallen.

~

Crosshair pulled you out of the resurfacing memory, brushing your hair back with his hand. While he was still upset at the idea you didn't want to see him, he wasn't going to deny himself the small luxury of being touched. Once he would pulled away at the public display not wanting anyone to see the man under the suit of armor but he wasn't that young and naive anymore. Older now, he learned you could lose everything on a moments notice. While losing Kamino hadn't necessarily upset him as it had been hell for every CC not to mention dealing with the regs, his brothers betrayal had scarred him greatly.

"I don't know how you're still in there," you whispered taking in the familiar structure of his face. You let your fingers trace the tattoo around his eye which you had done thousands of times before.

Crosshair squeezed your wrist, "please stop implying I was gone," there was an edge to his voice anger or desperation he couldn't tell.

You swallowed staring at him then your wrist finding finger imprints from his grasp. Rubbing the tender spot, he placed the cold glass of water the droid had brought over with the napkins to dull the ache. He pulled the glass back after a couple minutes of silence rubbing it with his thumb before you looked back at the returned stern expression, “I’m okay Cross…”

“I’m going for a walk, alone,” he said sliding out, “Stay here.” Crosshair ran his hand against the hideous scar which set his teeth on edge. Nothing but a disfigured monster, he thought, I’m a soldier bred for war and for a purpose of bringing peace, kark the empire for the chips but this is what we were all made for in the end. Crosshair carefully walked down the street eyeing every land mark so he could back track. Thoughts darted through his mind like a native mon calamari bouncing between water currents. Every thought making his skull rattle from one bouncing thought to another. He had prayed that the solitude would help but it had the opposite effect leaving him more confused and angry.

You sat alone for eternity before letting the batch know that for now you were safe and fine. Smiled when Echo replied instantly that they all missed you and to keep them appraised when you could. Peering out the black out blinds you noticed the light was rapidly suddenly setting like the feeling in your gut about how long he had been gone and that you had no way to get ahold of him. Peering around the now crowded space, you noticed a couple wandering gazing on you further making you anxious wondering if it was because you were beautiful or because they had seen your photo on a most wanted holo. You couldn’t risk finding out, carefully you ducked out of the building before awkwardly waiting out front for a little while longer to no avail. In the past, you had etched the layout of this city into your cortex of Cross was loss you would find him. Just that one day sitting in that cantina had change your life, sure the structure and discipline of your previous assignments had been nice but there had been something so liberating about the change and meeting the batch. Meeting Crosshair. Knowing his eyes you walked opposite of the sun. Your eyes scanned each side alley way with no sign until you looked down finding a single tooth pick.

“Toothprick,” you muttered, continuing your path making sure to periodically look down every handful of paces. You found him slumped up in one of the only trees near the hotel staring towards the sunset, “Get lost, Loth-cat?” you asked.

“I told you to stay there,” he replied flatly staring at the array of colors in the sky.

“And how long ago was that?”

“Lost track of time,” he admitted rubbing his scalp. One leg tucked to his chest with his elbow resting on it touching his head, one leg outstretched and his other hand laid across his lap, he realize he probably looked like a mess. Forcibly straightening out he looked down finding the concern in your eyes, he sighed hoping down landing gracefully on his feet tucking his hands in his pocket. “What are you looking at,” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow, “You, Loth-cat,” you teased at his sniper’s fondness of being off the ground, “You look good up there.”

“I bet I look even better above you,” he quipped reflexively but his tone didn’t match the words.

You hovered close to him not trying to interrupt his mind, “Back to the hotel?”

Crosshair’s gaze lingered on the setting story of the day, his mind, stomach and heart twisted at his decision wondering if at the end of the day if it was the what was best for the both of you or the galaxy. He offered a single stiff nod matching your pace with his calculated steps so every step fell into sync. Using the corners of his eyes, he watched your pondering expression, “What?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t want me to climb up there with you,” you fibbed.

“Liar.”

“I don’t remember you being this moody, well unless it was in a fun way.”

“Why do you keep trying to force me to be who I was?” he snapped, “Can’t you just accept me for who I am now?” his head feeling like it was going to split at that ugly seam, “This is who I am,” he added flattening his tone. The rest of the walk to the hotel in pain filled silence.

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Like Ships in the Night

Prologue: We Finally Got It All Right

Welcome to my new anthology series Like Ships in the Night! I am so fortunate to have some amazing readers that enjoy this sweet pairing, and have expressed interest in seeing how fate tried bringing them back together during their 15 years apart. And you know what? I want to see that, too! So... here it is, and I hope you enjoy this adventure as much as I enjoyed dreaming about it and creating it! Each story can be read as a one-shot (unless noted), and--I'm so excited about this part--you are going to see some of canon woven into this. And in true Emily-fashion, it's not going to follow a specific time-line, but you will be able to follow along.

For those of you who are new to Tatum Erikson: this is the infamous "Hopkins Girl"... and in my AU, she and Ethan find their way back to each other.

🔞This collection of stories is intended for mature audiences only. By continuing, you agree that you are 18 years of age or older. TW for chapters will be included with each part. 🔞

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!OC (Tatum Erikson-Ramsey)

Series Music Inspo: "Ships in the Night" by Mat Kearney

Chapter Music Inspo: "I Choose You" by Sara Bareilles

Chapter Summary: On the night of their wedding, Tatum begins to reflect about her relationship with Ethan... and about all of the missed opportunities that they had with one another.

Word Count: ~3400

Warnings: NSFW/smut 🍋; language

A/N: Some of these characters/plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry. Huge thank you to my girl @charlotteg234 for helping me choreograph my smut, and to my girl @ao719 for looking over said smut! lol Love you both! Not truly beta'd; please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Would you call me crazy if I told you I believe in cheesy romance stories? You know the type: the kind where the rich CEO’s car breaks down in a small town, where he meets the shy, yet beautiful local pastry chef with a failing bakery? He inevitably screws things up, but he proves his love by performing a grand gesture–in this case, buying out her bakery to give it back to her. Or how about the age-old story where a woman meets a stranger in a bar, spends a hot night of passion with him, only to find out in the morning that he is her new boss?  Or he’s the son of her boss? Or he’s the crown prince of some made-up country in the Mediterranean? 

Now, before you roll your eyes at me, I know what you’re thinking. Stuff like that doesn’t actually happen in real life. Men don’t go out of their way to make fools of themselves for love. Love has its limits, and the sensation of being ‘swept off your feet’ is nothing more than a trigger of chemicals in your body, supported by the greeting card companies and flower shops.  And let me tell you: I totally agree with you.

Until it happened to me.

When I was twenty-three, I fell in love with the most intelligent, fearless, most handsome man I had ever met in my life. He was strong, yet sensitive; he was quiet, but hilarious.  He was such a colossal pain in my ass. And I absolutely loved him for it. For over three years, our relationship was thrilling, breath-taking, all-consuming and wild. It was the kind of love that inspires love songs and poetry, a love that makes you believe in soulmates and wishing on stars and happily ever afters.  We had no idea what the hell we were doing, which made it so incredibly perfect. He was so incredibly perfect.

Then, I single-handedly fucked it up. Everything that was good in my life, I threw it all away in a single moment. And that incredibly perfect man… I broke him. And the worst part? I changed him. Because of me, he learned to be cold and hard; he learned to be closed off, to protect himself from getting hurt ever again. He lost that spontaneous bright light in his eyes. And love?  He stopped believing in it.   

But, I’ll let you in on a little secret: the story of Ethan Ramsey and Tatum Erikson doesn’t stop there.  It should’ve. My God, it should’ve, but fate had a different ending for us.

“Tate?”

His voice. It still rings like a melody to me, especially with my name dancing on his lips. Well, that and judging from his mumble, his keys must be in his mouth.  His hands are full with a late dinner, and no doubt, Jenner is making it nearly impossible for him to sneak through the door with his excitement.

I give the navy velvet sky one more glance as I turn to walk back inside from our balcony. Pulling the curtains shut, I watch Ethan set the table before lighting a few tapered candles between our plates. He then promptly unpacks the brown paper bags of our greasy, late-night fast food dinner.

Recinching the white satin belt of my short, lace-trimmed robe startles him into a double-take.  “There you are,” he beams brightly at me; he offers a guilty smile as he claps his hands. “Nothing was open at 1:30 in the morning except…” he sighs, “the golden arches.”

Raising a playful eyebrow, I saunter closer to him, closing the gap between us. As I wrap my arms around his thick, swole musculature, his taut, strong arms envelop my own body. He pulls me closer, pressing me lovingly into the flat planes of his chest.

“Mmmm…" I nuzzle into him, "it’s perfect. My husband did good,” I steal a fry.

He smirks before kissing my forehead. He looks at his watch. “It’s been–” he clicks his tongue, “--nine hours? I really hope I haven’t messed this marriage-thing up too badly just yet. Although, I’m not so sure that feeding my wife McDonald’s on her wedding night is being a good husband.”

"I think you're doing a damn good job on keeping her satiated, Mr. Ramsey," I giggle under my breath. 

The man truly is a god. His glorious tongue and nimble fingers permeated secret parts of me during our quaint wedding reception earlier, making us swiftly take our exit during the main course.  Even now after spending four breathless hours making love, I look up into those possessive crystal eyes, and my arousal instantly awakens. God, I need him.

Ethan tilts his head lower towards me, his breath warm on the shell of my ear. “Every touch from you, Mrs. Ramsey, leaves my begging… for … more," he nips at my earlobe, punctuating his words.  The sudden sting ignites a fury of goosebumps across my skin.

And suddenly, I can't let go of him. Feeling the heat of his body against my own intoxicates me like a fine vintage wine. This man, this honorable and selfless man: he is my beloved, my husband, my forever. My soul literally craves just to be in his presence; my being thirsts to be held steadfast in the oasis of his heart. I want to dive deep and succumb to his currents; the height of his love I will never, ever be able to fathom. 

And to think: he chose me. Again.

The silky fabric of my robe slips off my shoulder. Ethan's large hand brushes across my exposed freckled skin, admiring my decollete as if he was experiencing it for the first time. His breath shutters against my chest, his desire hardening against my belly. His mouth presses to my exposed skin as he marks me as his own. The pull from his pout is heavenly; he burrows his face into my neck, his arms hugging me tightly.

I tenderly rake my fingers through his espresso waves, massaging the back of his neck.

"My wife…" he silently breathes against me like a fervent prayer. His hands find the loose knot of my belt, pulling the tie undone with his thumb. The material flounces open, his fingers roaming across my bare curves.

His lips find mine, a slow fire kindling between them. His tongue flirts inside my mouth, swirling languidly around the tip of mine. 

My knees buckle with the abrupt throbbing between my legs, but his arms brace me. We both warmly snicker before I peer up at the gorgeous, chiseled lines of his face. His dark stare is so attentive, so captivated with me; I can feel my heart pirouette in my chest. 

I want him–God, I fucking need him in the most feral of ways. Now. I am his lamb, his sacrifice. I need him to strip me, ravage me, break me, consume me. 

"I thought you were hungry," he growls, tracing my jaw with the bridge of his nose. His eyelashes flutter against my skin; even my toes curl to the command of their gentle tickle. 

My breath quickens, the rise and fall of my chest pressing into his firm body. "I thought you were," my voice softly rattles, painfully aware of his tightly constricted appetite in his sweatpants.

He rolls his tongue across his bottom lip as he tucks a finger under the material resting on my other shoulder. With a careful flick,  the satin glides down my arm, drifting into a delicate cascade until it ripples on the floor around my ankles.

"I am," he cups my cheek, painting his thumb across my own pout. He then drags his knuckles down my exposed body: down my chin and neck, between my breasts and around my navel. He takes a knee, his mouth replacing his hand. He trails sweet kisses down my abdomen before tenderly caressing my sex. I hum as he gazes back up at me, his eyes dark with want. "I am very–" I gasp as he pushes his fingers into my core, "--very hungry." Pulling back out, he lifts his hand to his mouth. He moans in pleasure, his tongue eagerly lapping up my sweet desire.

As he sensually sucks on the tips of his fingers, I greedily steal his hand, bringing it back to my own lips. With a mischievous grin on my face, I kiss his palm before dragging it down to my pert breast. I guide his hand into massaging me slowly, his secure grip finding and teasing my nipples. Losing myself in the vast wilderness of his longing stare, he renders me speechless; the anticipation leaves me breathless. God, just put your mouth on me already...

I drag my teeth across my lips, watching my new husband shiver, unraveling on his knees. Combing my nails behind his ear, he shifts his gaze back to me, and I whisper. 

“Take me.”

Hastily finding the bottom curve of my ass, he takes hold of me, pulling me closer to himself. His hands wander smoothly up my thighs, discovering my wet slit. He tenderly traces my folds, and a sudden ache for more courses through my legs 

His finger grazes over my plumping clit, once… then twice before he circles around again… and then back the other direction. My foot coyly turns inward as my knee curls to shield my throbbing apex from his welcoming intrusion.

“Uh-uh,” he scolds me. He slips my leg out from under me, instantly finding its way over his broad shoulder. I brace myself on the back of a chair as he strums my swollen button. 

My knees quiver with reckless electricity; my body trembles with raw nerves.  My lower belly warms with excitement, euphoria building deep within me. I begin to rub against his hand.

“Ethan,” I gasp, “please baby–”

He stops. As he flicks his eyes to me with that irresistible smirk, he must’ve seen the look of betrayal written all over my face.

“Ethan?”

But before I can get my words out, he scoops me up bridal-style, hurrying me into our bedroom.  He throws me like a ragdoll onto the plush bed before ripping off his undershirt.  I sit up on my knees, my fingers reaching for his waistband. As I lunge closer to take what I want, he grabs my wrists. He crawls on top of me pinning me down, my hands helplessly over my head. 

He kisses into my whimpers, his teeth nipping at my swollen lips. “Such an eager girl,” he snickers, biting my lip again until he gently licks into my mouth. 

Ethan traces his tongue down my body, circling around my nipple before pulling it into his mouth.  Fuck, it hurts so good. One of my hands has traveled to the back of his head, encouraging his rapacious mouth into my sensitive skin. But, he possessively steals my hand from his neck, restraining it useless above my head.

“Stay,” the corner of his mouth turns up as he pants, “you stay right here until you finish for me." He playfully tugs on my other nipple with his teeth before stealing another glimpse of me. "And you will finish on me.” 

His demanding claim on me as well as his overpowering strength sends a chilling ache through my body. My need for him grows fervent, restless, completely starved.  I am his hostage, and only he holds the key to my release, to my pleasure. He is my undoing.

He slips down my body, spreading my legs apart for him. I quake as he spreads apart my lips, and all at once, his tongue drinks me deeply. My back arches against the mattress, as he swirls around my most sensitive area.

My breath becomes ragged as my hips thrust off of the bed. Hoarse mewls escape my mouth as my head thrashes back and forth across the pillow.

Without warning, he glides two thick fingers into my channel, stealing the very breath from my lungs.  Finding the perfect spot inside, he strokes deeply, smoothly, my toes curling with the change of sensation.  

I am overwhelmed; each stroke builds on the last, the intensity obliterating my mind. Is this pleasure? Is this pain? I can’t–I can’t take anymore.

That is until Ethan takes his other hand, firmly pressing it down on my lower belly. The electricity of my desire erupts into a million stars, dancing in my own galaxy. 

And then he slides in another finger.

My mouth drops open into earth-shattering silence as I pump my hips uncontrollably into his hand. My body trembles, hurdling me towards an orgasm. It’s terrifying, and thrilling, and absolutely emotional. I can barely breathe anymore, my inhales catching in my chest as my body cries out. 

But suddenly, as my climax overcomes me, throwing me off the edge to complete ruin, Ethan stops. He grips my ass and swiftly, flips us both over. Finding myself on my knees, my husband’s head is between my thighs, his lips a breath away from my wet pussy.

"Ride me, baby."

He pulls my hips down, the sudden jerk causing me to grab the wooden headboard. His stubble tickles my sensitive skin as my nerves reignite with pleasure. My body melts into him, his mouth instantly finding my deep ache. He blows gently across my throbbing clit before wrapping his mouth around it, giving it a nip with his teeth.

"Ethan!"

A stun of electricity courses through my veins.  A deep burn contracts in my belly as groans of ecstasy escape my throat; my eyes prick with tears of euphoric joy as he strokes me through another orgasm.  My whimpers fill our room as I uncontrollably pulse and constrict around his tongue and fingers. My thighs quiver as I grind my quaking pussy across his hungry mouth.

My knuckles blanch to white as I grip the headboard; glistening with sweat, my body grows limp, begging for rest, begging for oxygen, begging to collapse from my husband’s predatory gleaning of my body… now his body.  

But, he holds me fast and close, his hands gripping firmly to the swells of my ass as he continues to feast on my ravaged center. He tenderly nuzzles me open, his tongue consuming every last drop of my pleasure.

He crawls out from under me, quickly climbing onto his knees to kneel behind my body. His arms snake around my abdomen as he pulls me back into his lap. And I collapse against his chest, my hands finding the tops of his before tangling our fingers together.

Relishing his touch, Ethan presses his lips into my jaw, along my neck, coming to rest on my shoulder. He tightens his hold on me as his mouth finds the shell of my ear, my body lax against his. 

And then I giggle. His soft whispers of the most lovely, the most hidden of secrets saved just for us drip like honey from his lips, his sweet words seducing me in the most intimate of ways.

Turning my head to meet his gaze, our lips brush against one another as we finally relax into each other's arms, laying down against the swirl of sheets and stacks of pillows. Finding a comfortable silence, I can feel his pulse bounding in time with mine as we share the air around us. He mindlessly traces shapes with the tips of his fingers across my hips. His ankles intertwine with mine, and somehow, something so mundane feels so possessive, so intimate. I could drown in this moment, knowing my last breath was him claiming me as his own.

"How?" I sigh, not realizing the actual word escaped from my mind.

"Hrmm?" He rasps, readjusting his hold on my body against his.

I titter in embarrassment. "This. I just can't believe… we're here…"

He nuzzles his nose against my neck. "Just you and me." He takes my hands, gently interlocking our fingers together as he brings it up to his mouth for a kiss.

A thought crosses my mind. And I sit up, leaning myself against the plethora of pillows against the headboard.  Grabbing a sheet to cover myself, I look down at my husband, a pensive grin quirking on my mouth. "Do you–" I sigh, shaking my head. "Nevermind."

Ethan sits himself up next to me, playfully knocking his shoulder into me. "Do I what?" 

"It's silly."

He smirks. "Like that's ever stopped you?"

I swat his arm before wrapping my hand around his bicep, laying my head against his shoulder. "Do you believe... in fate?"

He rolls his head towards me, giving me that look, like I just asked him the most idiotic question on the planet.

"What?" I teasingly pout. 

He raises his eyebrows. "Do you really want to know my answer?" 

No. I chuckle to myself; I know better. I have always appreciated Ethan's ability to remain level-headed. He's a realist, a believer in physical matter. Everything can or will be explained by science. For the most part, I agree with him. Afterall, I am a scientist, too. 

And maybe he's right; the rekindling of our relationship was a complete coincidence. But still… after all of the missed meetings and stolen glances from afar… after all of these years, why now?

He presses a lingering kiss to my forehead. "Tell me. What do you think?"

"Whether or not you believe in fate?"

"No," he rolls his eyes, grinning wide. His deep chuckle reverberates through his body, warming mine. He pulls me gently into his chest. "Tell me, baby," he softly croons. "Tell me what you're thinking. Tell me what's got you thinking about–" he waves his hand in the air as if he's presenting a magical word on a rainbow. "--destiny."

"Not when you say it like that," I pinch his belly.

"Okay, okay!" He flinches, snickering before cradling me closer. "I'm sorry. I'll be serious." I give Ethan a questioning glare until he holds up three fingers. "Doctor's honor."

I giggle as I mindlessly begin to play with his fingers in silence.  I finally sigh because I officially sound like a lunatic, and surely, this beautiful man is about to go get our marriage annulled. "I don't know," I breathe him in deeply, my fingertips grazing through the hair on his chest. "I feel like… now looking back on us, we had so many missed opportunities… divine interventions… I don't know," I snicker at myself because I don't just sound insane; I am insane.

That is until Ethan takes my hand, giving me a reassuring squeeze. "I'm listening."

"What if we were always meant to find each other? Like… God, I don't know." I turn around to face him leaned against the wall of pillows. "Imagine we're heading to work on the T, but we keep missing the stop… and yet, we still end up where we're supposed to go, even if we have to catch another line or hail a cab."

Ethan gives me a skeptical look. "Okay, so… you believe you and I had missed opportunities to be together–"

"I don't know if I believe it… but somehow calling those missed connections, those times that we almost crossed paths again…" I bite my bottom lip, shaking my head. "Rams, how could they just be coincidences?"

Ethan couldn't take his eyes off me; I could tell he was perplexed with what I was insinuating by the way he chewed the inside of his mouth. We fell into a quietness, my question left unanswered. 

I could feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment. Maybe I was being hyper-emotional with it being our wedding day and all the talk of love everlasting.

After spending a few moments studying my face, Ethan tenderly takes my foot, pushing back the sheet to expose it completely. He lays it on the firm planes of his abdomen as he begins to gently knead his thumbs and knuckles into my arches.

"Coincidences, hrm?" He exhales heavily. "Or fate?" He shakes his head with uncertainty as he strokes each one of my toes. "Tell me a coincidence. One of our coincidences."

Feeling myself melt into his touch, I look down at my wedding band, twirling it around my finger. Taking a deep breath, I lick my lips and begin.

"Do you remember the time…?"

~🖤~

Tags (please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed)

PERMA

@alj4890 @ao719 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL OPH

@alyshak92 @annfg8 @bisexualdisasteracd @cariantha @coffeeheartaddict2 @lsvdw-blog @mvalentine @ofmischiefandmedicine @rookiemartin @starrystarrytrouble @youlookappropriate

~🖤~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like , comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

#open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #choices open heart #like ships in the night #ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey #tatum erikson #ethan ramsey x f!oc #ethan ramsey x tatum erikson #ethan x tatum #tathan #N*FW

[afawnsdiary]

I got tagged by @raaw-nerve 😍 Thanks love 💜

5 favourite songs at the moment

Playing these (and a few more) up and down all day lately.

Tagging: @rouxney @kickingupdirt @un-r-wuenscht @donlyonewhogetsmep @dannissunnyday @vizzygurn

And everyone who just wants to do it. Also let me know if you wanna be included in these games so I can tag you in the future. ✌️

#tag game #Spotify #Youtube

[writtenonreceipts]

Thanks for the tag @petalstofish! 

List five songs you actually listen too and then tag five people!

1. Dark Blue, Jack’s Mannequin

2. Love of Mine, Imagine Dragons

3. Annie, Mat Kearney

4. Lost and Found, Eve 6

5. Believe, The Bravery

tagging: @thegloweringcastle @westofmoon @backtobl4ck @goddess-aelin @leiawritesstories

#tag games #songs I love

[thatwheelchairchick]

Spell your URL with a song title!

Thanks for the tag, @mrsbsmooth!

There it Goes by Maisie Peters

Hey, Soul Sister by Train

Accidentally in Love by Counting Crows

Tin Man by Miranda Lambert

Wild One by Faith Hill

Hand to Hold by JJ Heller

Ends of the Earth by Lord Huron

Easy by Commodores

Lease On Life by Andy Grammer

Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift

Here Comes The Sun by The Beatles

All I Need by Mat Kearney

I Think I Fell In Love Today by Kelsea Ballerini

Rush Together by Quietdrive

Connie's Bar by Lucy Spraggan

Hope You're Okay by Olivia Rodrigo

IDK You Yet by Alexander 23

Castle On The Hill by Ed Sheeran

Keep Your Head Up Princess by Anson Seabra

Tagging @rebelrayne, @countessklair, @garebearandnan, @logan-writes and @eskiix, sorry if you've been tagged/already done it

[starksnstripes]

music tag game

tagged by @iishmael-- thank u, friend! :D

Also, i don't have spotify, so I'm gonna use my itunes library LOL

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

let your spotify predict your 2024! shuffle your on repeat playlist, and the first twelve songs represent your 2024

Jan- "It Is Well With My Soul" - Allison Pierce Feb- "Where We Gonna Go From Here" - Mat Kearney Mar- "Free From It All" - Lecrae Apr- "Brother" - Needtobreathe May- "Scars" - Michael Malarkey Jun- "I'm Outta Time" - Oasis Jul- "Remember Roses" - Lola Marsh Aug- "Stop For a Minute" - Keane Sept- "Saint-Laurent" - Coeur de pirate Oct- "North of the Wall" - Ramin Djawadi Nov- "Silence Is Golden" - Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons Dec- "Trouble Man" - Marvin Gaye

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

I would like to tag @henrysfox @ishipallthings @mazikeen :D

#sorry it took so long!! haha #I LOVE MUSIC GAMES!!!!

[trashquisitor-shirozora]

Song Meme

Tagged by @crystalshard over at @shirozora-draws but since I want to keep that blog clean and restricted to only my art posts, fic cross-posts, and ask responses, I will respond on my main!

Pick a song for each letter of my username, so I'll pick from my writing mixes.

S: Ships In The Night - Mat Kearney H: Human - Ellie Goulding I: Into The Mist - Built By Titan, Future Rivals R: Running in the NIght - FM-84, Ollie Wride O: Oblivion - Zayde Wolf, Neoni Z: N/A O: Orbit Love - Virtual Mage R: Renegades - X Ambassadors A: All The Right Moves - OneRepublic D: Dangerous Dreams - LeBrock R: Rabbit Heart - Florence + The Machine A: Addicted - Morgan Page, Greg Laswell W: War of Hearts - Ruelle S: Sunflower - Post Malone, Swae Lee

Damn, defeated by the letter "Z".

No obligations, just some silly fun: @graysonflynn, @kuiilandtorch, @leorizanzel, @sadiebwrites, @mykingdomforasong, anybody else who sees this on their dash and wants to see if they have a song for each letter of their username.

#do i even have a meme tag #defeated by the letter 'z'