05-09-2018, 11:10 AM
★ WHEN MY HEART IS MADE FROM GOLD AND FORGIVENESS SEEMS TOO BOLD
ooc cries because when i clicked on the link youtube showed me an ad for poptarts and it took me far too long to realize that it was an advertisement, and the entire time i was just thinking “flo wants me to listen to a poptart ad while reading a one shot???”
Hazel had joined The Ascendants a beat too late to realize the complicated past between Margaery and Suite. She had been aware there was a past there, of course, but the history remained a mystery. Even after her private encounters with the two and discovering they were married (and man, that made a puzzle pieces slide into place), Hazel still couldn’t figure out the tension between them.
To her, marriage had always been a fantasy thing, as it was to most girls. Not necessarily the white picket fence and backyard cookout every Sunday night type fantasy, but the gravity defying, world traveling, heartbreaking, adventure seeking Romeo and Juliet tale that was full of love and lust and pain. So many times, Hazel had dreamed that if Mother had a spouse, she would have been happier. She would have treated Hazel right. They could have been a family, not a broken piece of one.
This was why she couldn’t understand why Margaery sang so sadly, or Suite spoke softly and forlornly. She couldn’t understand why Suite and Margy weren’t dancing together, singing at the top of their lungs. They both loved their family so much - Hazel had seen it, had heard it, when Margy had told her about her kids and when Suite showed her the pictures inside the locket.
Hazel approached on the other side of Bastille, unconsciously keeping her distance from Eternal’s size and threatening appearance. “I didn’t know you could sing, Margaery.” Hazel said quietly, curling her tail over her paws. “You should do it more often.”
Hazel had joined The Ascendants a beat too late to realize the complicated past between Margaery and Suite. She had been aware there was a past there, of course, but the history remained a mystery. Even after her private encounters with the two and discovering they were married (and man, that made a puzzle pieces slide into place), Hazel still couldn’t figure out the tension between them.
To her, marriage had always been a fantasy thing, as it was to most girls. Not necessarily the white picket fence and backyard cookout every Sunday night type fantasy, but the gravity defying, world traveling, heartbreaking, adventure seeking Romeo and Juliet tale that was full of love and lust and pain. So many times, Hazel had dreamed that if Mother had a spouse, she would have been happier. She would have treated Hazel right. They could have been a family, not a broken piece of one.
This was why she couldn’t understand why Margaery sang so sadly, or Suite spoke softly and forlornly. She couldn’t understand why Suite and Margy weren’t dancing together, singing at the top of their lungs. They both loved their family so much - Hazel had seen it, had heard it, when Margy had told her about her kids and when Suite showed her the pictures inside the locket.
Hazel approached on the other side of Bastille, unconsciously keeping her distance from Eternal’s size and threatening appearance. “I didn’t know you could sing, Margaery.” Hazel said quietly, curling her tail over her paws. “You should do it more often.”
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WITH EVERY HEARTBEAT I HAVE LEFT
i will defend your every breath; i'll do better