#batteredoptimist

[flownintothesun]

an official request for @batteredoptimist 's James, Muriel, Rosie & Romana's hearts this Sappy Day, take II.

                                              𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒,                                               𝐹𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑠, 𝑊𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑦, 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛, 𝐿𝑢𝑐𝑖 & 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑜 ♡

[flownintothesun]

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 ♡

 ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───   @batteredoptimist

May you always know how utterly beloved you are, may your magic always shine brightly in your massive heart, and may you have every reason in the world to smile like the sun. Thank you for being the magic, the heart, the gentleness, the lighthouse, the peace, the growth. Thank you for keeping my muses warm in every way. Thank you for reminding us that spring comes after the winter and that light will always find its way through the darkness. Thank you for sharing your heart with my chaoses, they love you so very much.

[flownintothesun]

 ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───    ❛  𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝.   ❜ (𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚 @ 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨)

                                  ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── 𝟒𝟎𝟒 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝. ( @batteredoptimist )

       𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 as he makes his way back into bed, slipping into the warmth of the covers smelling a bit like breastmilk and baby powder. The first time he’d held his tiny babies in his arms — he’d been shaking desperately. Adelina had been so gentle when she’d come up and helped him shift them around comfortably, one in each arm — looking up at him like he was the whole entire world. He’d broken down into a sobbing wreck — trying desperately to control his breathing to not startle them as tears had poured down his face. He’d told his mate over and over again how beautiful they were and how thankful he is to be her mate and their Papa and that she was going to want for nothing in the world. He’s been doing his best to stand by that promise.

       Things had been easier those first few months with Adelina and Lorenzo and Muriel — so many sets of hands always willing to help. Eventually, they had used a large portion of the money they’d taken from the boat safe to have a place of their own right there next to the loving people who had become family — and while those hands are still accessible, Freddie and Romana are learning how to be human, and after the life that they’ve lived, it’s hard to rely on anyone other than themselves. That means sleepless nights, and dirty laundry, and absolute and utter chaos — but it’s a happy kind, a busy kind. Freddie’s not sure when the last full night of sleep he got was — but that’s okay, because the reason is a happy one.

      As he shifts under the blankets, he feels Romana’s warm hand affectionately rubbing the stubble on his cheek as he nuzzles into her in return, wrapping colder arms around her until she giggles as he teases, “You’re supposed to be asleep, cara mia,” he scolds half-heartedly — untangling his arms just to bring those broad hands up to her shoulders, and begin working on the knots and ache in her shoulders and back. She works hard, his love — she always has. It’s extra work, too — making milk for the babies — Freddie doesn’t imagine it could really be comfortable. Besides, her skin is warm — feels nice to be touching her. Her words are so gentle, and he leans over and around to press a kiss to her lips. They don’t usually talk about how they ended up here — but Freddie thinks about it a lot. The cost of being happy.

      “I promised you a long time ago that I would do my best,” he rumbles. “I was thinking...there’s a class at the rec center Muriel goes to sometimes. I saw a sign for dancing. I’d like to dance with you,” he says, moving his palm gently along the curve of her body. She’s so much healthier now than she was. They both are. “Like they do in the movies. Not for any reason really,” he muses drowsily, “Just because I think it would be nice. We could dance in the kitchen — for no reason at all. Just because we can,” he smiles, moving his lips against her ear and kissing her there, “I’m getting much better with my leg. I’d like to dance with my mate — eh — with my wife. If she want to dance with me.”

[flownintothesun]

 ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───     "𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬." (𝐅𝐞𝐲!𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥 @ 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧)

                              ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── 𝟒𝟎𝟒 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝. ( @batteredoptimist )

       𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒, a wisp of a fox dancing through them in a stream of light with a tail like a comet —  everywhere, and simultaneously nowhere all at once. The humans tell tales of her now, though they haven’t quite gotten it right. They’ve started to worship her — bringing their offerings to the forest’s edge. She does not exist for or by their prayers and offerings — but she accepts them — and sometimes, she’ll show them beautiful things. Occasionally, she will insert herself between a malevolent spirit and a wayward human, and guide them home. She can’t help it — she seems to have developed an affinity for them, small and mostly helpless creatures, trying to form their colonies like ants. Most of them, she’s found, are good. And it helps that he loves them, too.

       If the goddess were to be partial to anything, she supposes — it should be the forest and the animals within, which she is meant to and does protect. It should be keeping the magic here — so creatures like her beloved can thrive alongside the ones that do not harbor a more elusive kind of magic — only life. Oftentimes, people fail to realize that life is its own kind of magic — and while death is considered an ugliness, it, too, is beautiful. Everything shifts and cycles, and very little stays the same. She finds her beloved in a mess of moss and limbs, regaling stories to her. “Is that so?” she asks, in a language that is older than the human colonies encroaching upon the forest.

      Amusement punctuates her tone as fox becomes no more than a wisp of light, wiggling under his moss and branches until the goddess takes a more appealing form. Almost human — milky skin and succulent curves — eyes green save for a hint of blue, freckles across her cheeks and shoulders, plush red lips, and antlers crowning her head. She does this with his head cradled in her lap as she lovingly begins to stroke the moss on his face. She doesn’t feel time like the rest of the world does — it’s not quite so well laid out. But she does know that when he’s gone, she misses him terribly — and the forest goes quiet and more dormant. “You’ve chosen this form today, lǝᴉɹnW?” She softens at the thought. His kind are connected to nature just as much, if not more than she herself is.

        Her trickster changes shape then — into something that is not a raven, and decidedly not a man, either. She accepts the change gracefully — and oh! The games they play! — and immediately, she starts to preen his feathers, as a mate might. They are not that. That is too small for what they are. There haven’t been words invented in the human language to describe the bond between she and her Fey lover. “I like this one,” she muses. “And what about me, lǝᴉɹnW? Shall I one day become a siren so that you can fulfill yet another adventure? Shall I lure you in with my song and steal your connection to the river?”

       Her raven grins lopsidedly with an almost human mouth as she teases him. “I’ve missed you,” she offers. “With all this talk of sirens, I presume you were near the sea. I’ve never been to the sea.” He knows that. He knows most things. And she knows that with one arm not fully shifting, that he’s been hurt. Tenderly, she presses a hand to the arm in question. Since she’s met him, her magic has swirled both green like nature, and golden like his eyes, rather than the dull silver of before. She knows his role. She knows that he is the shield. She knows that neither of them are wholly invincible. Nothing is. Such is nature itself — unpredictable and sometimes peaceful, sometimes violent — but always, always beautiful. Like him. “They’ve started to speak in the human tongue, you know — my ravens. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

[flownintothesun]

 ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───    ❛ 𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬. ❜ (𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥 @ 𝐖𝐞𝐬) 

                                ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── 𝟒𝟎𝟒 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝. ( @batteredoptimist )

       𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌 didn’t have a future at all. Looking at a clock was never any good — cause every time a crafty eye would sneak a peek, the seconds would pass so much slower. At first, he’d longed for the passage of time to see him to something better — and then he’d resented it, because all that the shift of minutes, hours, days, weeks, years — all that any of it brought him was more pain. Now he’s sitting on a rooftop nicer than some of the flats he’s lived in, smoking a cigarette and blowing out smoke and cold with every breath beside the two great loves of his life. Fancy that — miracles do happen.

      He’s long since learned to never doubt Muriel when he says that he knows what he’s talking about. So ‘I know a place’ had involved a rickety fire escape — Westley at the top, Muriel at the rear, and James in the middle as Westley prayed to the gods of chaos and discord to spare him learning the hard way that humans weren’t meant to have wings. In the end, they’d made it with their stolen champagne and the chocolate-covered strawberries Westley’d wanted to grab for James. The truth is that they’re not all that poor — but Daddy Ransom has ingrained it into his head to never forget where he’s from. Why pay for things that the taxpayers are already paying for? Big business has no right to the money Wes and his lovers have weaseled away. Stealing and hacking and robbing are all hard work, after all.

       Westley smirks as a premature firework goes off and Muriel gets impatient for his due kisses. “Y’might want to kiss James first,” he teases, tilting his curly head back to wink at his lad, “Strawberries make the cigarettes taste better.” But, in the end, it’s never a competition between them — everyone gets their kisses. Fireworks crackle and spark even though Westley’s watch still reads 11:55 PM and he can’t help but fall over onto his back, laughing even as his lovers follow him and shower him in kisses, and Westley draws them in for more warmth. “Still see fireworks every time I kiss you both,” he grins, wiggling his arm around one of Muriel’s broad shoulders to point even as he’s half- kissing shivering lips, “See, there’s one now. Must mean I love you both an awful lot.”

       If he’s telling the truth — he’s pretty sure he’ll still be seeing fireworks when he’s an old man. Far too old to climb rickety old ladders. Maybe by then they’ll have some kinda mansion somewhere — just them and Daddy Ransom and whoever else comes into the picture. Lately, those have all been happy surprises — like Muriel rumbling and grumbling with a playful thunder, and James’s ‘darlings’ and gentle scoldings as he puts out the cigarette. Westley kisses him again. “You put up with a hell of a lot from me, sweetheart. Are you happy?” He turns to Muriel, asking the same question, only silently this time.

       The clock strikes midnight, and color lights up the sky with the affirmations of his loved ones. For all of his life, Wes never thought he’d be enough — but to them, they are three parts of a whole, and that is everything. This everything doesn’t look so scary, no matter how the passage of time goes — fast or slow. Cold fingers brush cheeks, and lips smear together trembling. There is so much warm and tender hope for the future here — and it sets his heart flying in the sky — green, then yellow, blue and red, and in the streets — people sing for their love, and he won’t be convinced otherwise.

[flownintothesun]

𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 beautiful friendship and writing chemistry account for. ♡

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 : December 31, 2023 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 7,166 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 3,288,763 𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋-𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐀𝐓 𝟖𝟎𝐊) : 41.1

Thank you so much to my dear @batteredoptimist for all of our adventures. May we have many more in the year to come. All our love. ♡

[flownintothesun]

𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 @batteredoptimist​ —

      Two years ago today, we started talking nonstop every day and it just... didn’t stop. It didn’t stop when Westley and Muriel decided that they needed a whole server for their lemons, and it didn’t change when the server grew to 300+ threads, over 100 new characters, and the greatest stories that I’ve ever told and been a part of in my life. We’ve been a part of each other’s life in a big way for two years now — not counting the three extra years of me being awkward. Sometimes, I sit here and think of how it’s strange how the world works, and when it chooses to bring people who will change your life forever into the picture. Oftentimes I wonder why I hadn’t met you sooner, or when things weren’t so hard — and then I think of how amazing it is that I met you at all.

       When you asked me about my sailor lad a couple years ago, I had no idea my life was about to change course. Having you in my life has been like — breathing magic. There are no words that I can give to you to tell you how much I cherish the existence of you and of James and Muriel and Rosie and Romana and all of the countless others. How many people can say that they get to live their childhood dream with their best friend and partner-in-crime/writing? Every day I wake up and get to write — I get to go on absolutely lovely, wild, magical adventures with this person who matters so dearly to me every time we start a story. I cherish every single moment we’ve been in each other’s lives, I adore our stories, and I am invested in your characters and their adventures just as much as I am my own.

       I know that I sap a lot — but I don’t know if you truly know how profoundly you matter to me. How much I appreciate you and your existence and your presence in my life. There simply is no other Nonny. You’re my Sam (and I would like to be your Sam, too!). I would journey from the Shire to Mordor with you — and you’ve already done so for me. I still feel as though I didn’t deserve you in my life for the longest — but I am trying every single day to learn and grow and bring you a bit of the magic that you’ve brought to my life. And maybe that’s the journey — but I’m so grateful for every moment I get to share with you — even if the distance is a bit unfortunate for IRL adventures. I am always, always on your side for every single adventure, and I will always be cheering you on even in those adventures that I’m not as much a part of.

       You are a wonderful, kind, compassionate human being and you are an old soul just like our dear James. I still see him in you every day, he’s never gone and never far because he lives in your great big soft and caring heart. You also have so much creative talent and passion that it absolutely blows me away — from your love of animation, to your gorgeous art, your world-building, your characters, the whole of it. It means so, so much to me that I’ve gotten to be a part of your creative adventures. And on that note — can you believe it? We’ve written 40 novels worth of words? Over three million now? Seven thousand pages? I love our stories. I adore that it’s you that I get to share them with.

       Thank you so much for being here. For being you. For sharing your magic and kindness and care. For your patience with me. For our stories. For your consistency. For being able to translate me. For giving me the benefit of the doubt. For the flowerpots and adventures. I hope with all of my heart to keep growing into flowerpots with you until we’re old and have been friends forever and have three hundred Discord servers worth of writing, and many adventures (both with the characters and with us, too!) It’s so amazing to me that our creativity together seems so limitless — and despite life throwing a million curve-balls at both of us on the regular, we’re still here because it matters. I’m over here tearing up like a goof. You deserve all of the good things, okay? And I want to be around to see them all. 

      I adore you. I adore James, and Muriel, and Rosie, and Romana. I adore our time. I adore that you're in my life. Happy second year of adventures — I can’t wait to see what the third brings. Hopefully all of the good things, as are much deserved. Either which way — I’m happy to be on this journey with you. Hold that boat, I'm coming with you! ♡

[flownintothesun]

 ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───    𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥 @ 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧)

                              ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── 𝟒𝟎𝟒 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝.. ( @batteredoptimist )

      𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐒'𝐒 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒, like the slow rise of dawn to vanquish a harsh night. Francis does not love loudly so much as gently — but he loves in such a way that is all-encompassing and warm, so that all of those caught in his orbit are basking in its radiance, like the sun. In Muriel’s world — the sun had set long ago, and the promise of its return has left a once-hopeful man decimated, riddled with loss — loved ones leaving their mark on his life, though now distant and out of his reach like the stars in the night sky. He is not without light — but that light is a reminder of all things, good and bad, which have happened to him. The whole of their time together has probably challenged Muriel in more ways than Francis’s strong lover wants to let on — and it has culminated here, at a place not rooted in truth, but in fear.

     “Perhaps you don’t remember the stories,” Francis signs to him lovingly, drawing his chin up beneath cold fingers. “Oftentimes, the royal finds that it’s not ‘Charming’,” each letter comes out individually, “who steals their heart, but rather the rogue with a heart of gold who doesn’t think that he’s worth being loved. In actuality, he’s the most worthy character there is. Only, life has chipped away at him and he doesn’t realize how absolutely beautiful his royal — his prince — finds him. Muriel, love,” he says, still signing, but speaking aloud, too.

      When he gets up, the sofa creaks. One of the things that he loves about his place Muriel and his parents have built is that it carries memories. The dated furniture has a story to tell — and Francis can see little flashes of Muriel’s Mama and Papa all throughout the place.

      Taking his darling’s hand, he leads him to the sofa. He doesn’t sit down enough — always keeping busy, always trying to outrun his regrets, and the past, as though he lives in a world where if time just moves fast enough, one day it will stop hurting. Cool fingers trace along his love’s jaw, and the morning stubble that’s still there that Francis adores. “Shouldn’t I get a say in what I want?” Bending down, golden curls swish about his face, and he presses his hand to a too-warm cheek as he lets a kiss linger there. “With you, I am myself. I am happier than I’ve ever been — a great deal of that is because of you. You deserve me for all the days with me that you want to spend. For my part...I...” a blush creeps into his cheeks, and he readjusts his body to straddle his tall boyfriend as a small hiccup sways him gently, “I rather hope it’s all of them.”