#literare

[godsmeet]

"it's freezing." casey & alec

he cocks his head to the side when she complains about (freaking) ireland being cold in december. they'd moved out, finally got her away from her psycho mam and into a little studio apartment with joey's help. it's not a house with a picket fence, and it's not always perfect, but the neighborhood is safe enough for her to walk home in the evening without alec's guts twisting into knots that might off him at some point, like it was before.

flicking her nose with a grin. "we're picking out a christmas tree, not sun tanning in the bahamas, i don't know what you expected, baby." he laughs and pushes her hat down over her ears, not caring about her hairdo. "besides, we're going to be the best godmother and godfather, he's going to have his own little christmas feast with all the presents you've been buying and hiding for him - don't you think i don't know, devil tits. i see you."

[adamanteine-a]

prompt. @literare.      “     you have never been like the others, and you never will be.    ”

there's no helping the small smile that begins to form across her face. she feels almost foolish, noticing the giddiness that builds inside of her chest as she tries to shove it all down again. leave it to zain to make her feel as careless as she does now by saying almost nothing and everything. “  hm?  ” she simply hums in question, hand moving to remove her headpiece: it was heavy, made of many diamonds and two emerald pieces at the front. very pretty, she'd say, if she wasn't the one wearing it. sometimes those pieces felt peaceful [ green being her family's main color ], at other times, it felt like an additional weight on her. as if she ought to show her family's pride in some way, since she's lost her wings ages ago. “ do you think so? ”

she already knows his answer to her question. only his answer, of course. and by the grace of all she stands for, he might as well be the sun. he's gentle and kind, far too sweet for her. and perhaps she only thinks so because of how she is not used to any of this at all, but he fits perfectly just where he is. she wants him here. “ sometimes i worry that i perhaps am just like them. ” she says, then. and usually, what she's about to say is something she can only think to herself, but she finds it easier with him: “ what if ... with all of the things i do to be so different from all of them, to make an actual impact with my people, leads to me being just like them? ” there's a start of a change, of course, but what happens when she can't continue leading as she does?

she sighs. she knows why she's thinking of these things. she's had a meeting with a few of the lords of narbarad and look what she's gotten herself into now. all she wants is to avoid thinking of it for a while. shams closes the last shred of distance between them, stepping further into zain's space, her fingers hesitating before reaching out to hide her face between the crook of his neck. the princess hopes he doesn't notice, but she almost pouts. she moves her fingers to gently trace a few lines across his back and she notices her heartbeat steadying again. “ i'm tired, zain. these lords sure do give me such a headache sometimes. ”

she stays still, not moving just yet, enjoying the little moment before she steps back, moving her hands to hold his. “ let's go make something to eat. i want to go away from here, just with you. ” her head tilts, eyes unmoving from his as the same smile from the start begins to come back.

[epigraphed]

[ skating ] sender and receiver going ice skating

fingers  wrapped  tightly  around  hers,  effortlessly  guiding  @literare  through  the  masses  -  typically  they  have  a  rink  to  themselves.  now  opting  for  the  public  outside  rink  in  the  middle  of  boston.  has  yet  to  knock  down  her  walls  and  he  figured  that  the  scrutinizing  gazes  of  their  coaches  wasn't  making  it  any  easier  on  the  former  solo  skater.       ❝ are  you  still  feeling  alright?  ❞       checking  in  once  more,  a  gentle  squeeze  of  her  petite  hand.

[beauforte]

stay here with me. vanessa

all   suffering   originates   from   craving,   from   attachment,   from   desire.   and   he   hopes   she   knows   how   hard   he   tried.   he   did   everything   he   possibly   could   to   make   her   better,   to   do   better.   it   was   simply   out   of   his   control.   his   reputation,   his   money,   his   resources   .  .  .   nothing   could   FIX   her.   for   a   long   time,   he   accepted   it.   he   couldn’t   tell   her   what   to   do.   she   was   his   best   friend,   nothing   less,   nothing   more.   but   oh,   he   did   love   her.   loved   her   like   no   one   else.   loved   her   more   than   he   was   supposed   to.   he   still   does.   but   that   one   night,   the   accident   by   the   pool,   it   pushed   him   over   the   edge.   for   the   first   time   in   life,   he   threatened   her.   she   would   either   fix   herself,   or   she   would   never   see   a   glimpse   of   him   ever   again.   and   here   they   are   :   in   the   middle   of   nowhere,   stuck   in   his   car,   in   front   of   the   world’s   leading   &   discrete   luxury   mental   health   treatment’s   building.   he   inhales,   avoiding   her   gaze,   jaw   tightly   clenched   together.   he   can’t   look   at   her,   because   he   knows   he’ll   give   in.   HE   DOESN’T   WANT   TO   LEAVE   HER   BEHIND.   he   wants   to   keep   her   close,   wants   to   take   care   of   her.   make   her   feel   better.   but   they’ve   been   there   -   he   tried,   countless   of   times   before.   it   didn’t   work.   ‘’   go   inside,   vanessa.   we   talked   about   this.   ‘’   he’s   cold,   distant.   moment   passes   by,   blue   eyes   travelling   up   just   to   find   her   very   own.   he   reaches   out   for   her,   tucking   a   strand   of   hair   behind   her   ear,   head   tilted.   ‘’   you’re   strong.   you   can   do   this.   i   know   you   can.   ‘’

[epigrapheds]

❛ you can kiss me, you know. ❜

never been one to take it slow, but she wasn’t just anybody. cautious and unsure, like a deer - too easily spooked. changed his ways, julian had claimed he was an entirely different person these days. truth is max quite enjoy this version of himself, feeling more at ease with himself - time proving his worth rather than pushing his way through the masses like he had been doing ever since he was a child. fingers laced with @literare's, lips sugary from the ice cream they had shared earlier - walking her home to her apartment. her sudden bold statement takes him by surprise.     ❝ are you sure? ❞    his tone laced with worry, gotten too comfortable and now he is afraid of spooking her once again.

[satellitewar-archived]

from @literare: will you excuse me for a second? zoe & shawky

"waitwaitwait..." an immediately hasty response comes blurting from shawky's lips the second zoe indicates she wants to leave the room and duck from their conversation. he darts into the doorway to block her exit, but if she really wanted to, he'd be very easy to push past. his grip on the doorframe is ramshackle, nothing strong enough or intimidating enough to keep her in place. in a way, the move is just for show, made even more evident by the awkward way shawky adjusts his round spectacles. "i wasn't finished asking you about the amulet. you implied you've seen it before. in person. and it's missing." a long pause. the archaeologist sizes zoe up, still scrambling to gauge her position and her stake in the sale of historical things; she seems kind enough on the surface, brilliant, easy to talk to... but secretive. whatever she's hiding, he wants to unearth. whatever she currently conceals from him, he'll dig it up. "i need to return that amulet to the burial site it came from," he goes on, hoping the explanation will win her over, "so if you know where it is, it would be beneficial to let me know." again, shawky attempts some level of intimidation. it doesn't work. he's not scary, and he knows it. "please." there's the real shawky. his eyes grow soft, imploring. "where did you see it?"

[burygods]

evangeline kasem : i’m not the person you want.  i know you think i am.  but it won’t take long for you to realize this is a mistake.

madden had never been a fine of people telling him what he wants, what he thinks and even what he should do. evie seemed to get certain privileges, but he did not like this. " what's a mistake, @literare? " the mori male taking a few steps towards her, his breathing steady but his eyes narrow.

" i know what i want. " he says so simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. and to him it was. madden knew from the first day he saw her, the first day she basically told him to go screw himself. madden mori was hooked, and it was no damn mistake. " and i want you. plain and simple. "

[litearra]

catch,   sender catches receiver by the waist after they bump into each other.

heart had shattered in her chest, pair of skates tied across his shoulders weren’t incriminating on their own. but the hockey stick had been. sworn to her father that she would not date another hockey player, disappointed him enough as it is - did not need another disapproving lecture from him. it had hurt more, walking away from @literare than when she had woken up to caleb’s ‘we’re over’-text after her coma. barely sleeps or eats, a shell of who she had been when they first met. supposed to let go of him, proven to be impossible. driving from briar to harvard on multiple accounts, just to catch glimpses of him on the ice. upholding the promise to stay and spend time, even if it was from a relatively safe distance. an excited and lingering crowd flocks the exits of the harvard hockey arena, trying to push through - instead she stumbles into someone. arm snaking around her waist, heart leaping in her chest - the comforting smell of him that still lingers in the shirt she still wears to bed intensifying 100-fold. body recognising him before her mind does, leaning into his touch instantly - it feels like home.     ❝ ethan, ❞     she croaks, teary-eyed she gazes up at him. bottom lip quivering while fingers desperately curl into his jacket, found him and while her head may scream at her to let him go, her body simply refuses.