Hey Im Back On My Thinking About Adaine And Fabian Bullshit. The Amount Of Rituals They Construct To

hey i’m back on my thinking about adaine and fabian bullshit. the amount of rituals they construct to communicate silently with one another. adaine’s fork is tilted at a 45 degree angle and her soup spoon is slightly touching the salad fork, so she obviously wants him to grab a roll and apply marmalade and butter and set it on her plate first before grabbing one for himself. fabian has barely touched his lembas and he’s eating his roasted vegetables with salt and not pepper, which means he’s feeling way out of his depth and would like her to place a hand on his thigh underneath the table. 

sunday mornings are family dinners between the Abernants and the Seacasters, but it is only Hallariel and Fabian are invited. The afternoon is there’s while the adults discuss going-ons in Fallinel and Adaine will read pilfered romance novels and battle-magic texts Fabian brings for her as he goes through his fencing routines. Except his routines are always beginner level, gone through slow and meticulous so Adaine’s calculating eye can pick up the movements. In return, once he’s sweat-slick and there’s an ache in his muscles she’ll teach him the magics she’s learned from the books he’s brought. Hands pressing to his shoulders, his arms, finding the hand wrapped around the hilt of his blade and weaving intricate, ancient enchantments for true strikes and heroic transformations. 

adaine texting in the middle of the night and the ache of not being able to come to her rescue. there’s a trellis attached to her window, for heaven’s sake! it’s like the abernants want him to scale the ivy and flimsy wood to comfort their daughter like they never would. instead, he puts her on speaker and sets his phone in the kitchen, talking through the process of pickling or brining or cookie making with cathilda until he hears the soft, “Goodnight,” in his head, not through the speaker of his crystal.

fabian who lets adaine control every point of contact. who asks permission before he so much as brushes against her with a look or a whisper because he never wants to frighten her. adaine pushing herself into his arms after her first day at aguefort and sobbing into his chest. fabian wiping blood away with his thumb and grabbing her clean clothes and guiding her shaking arms through the sleeves of his letterman jacket. fabian letting her trace spells into his skin and nearly coming over to challenge her father to combat because of how he treated her when he picked her up from school. 

once they’ve settled into aguefort and become more comfortable in their respective classes they start to fight like they were made to be together. adaine’s eyes will flash blue and fabian will feel the tingle of ancient magic in his fingers, his chest, and his blade will strike when it would have missed otherwise. adaine pressed to his back, dangerously close to the front for a wizard. adaine, forcing her spells to disobey normal rules of magic to protect her childhood friend, casting shields with an outstretched hand and calling forth waves and seafoam instead of rigid arcane force. 

and when fabian begins to do magic, begins to tap into the elvish part of him he only truly indulged around adaine, he finds parts of her bleeding into it. those stories she whispered on sunday mornings become the inspiration he presses to her temple; it’s his hand around hers, now, guiding her fingers to wrap around her sword and guiding her through the motions to ensure she’s as smooth as seawater. reverently kissing each knuckle before battle to keep their romantic charade going and tasting the blood and static on his lips when her fury becomes known to whoever steps into her path. 

What if when we were born we were each assigned a Wikipedia page like a social security number would that be fucked up or what

izzy making of lucius by saying “daddy” like he wouldn’t call blackbeard that the first chance he got

no im not near any soft stede and blackbeard content but like,,,already i can just imagine stede reading to edward and doing the voices and just. the soft domesticity of it all. 

THEY’RE SHARING CLOTHES FUCKING GOD I’M IN LOVE SHARING CLOTHES IS SUCH A GOOD TROPE GOD THEM?? DRESSING EACH OTHER?? MORE INTIMACY?? LIL’ SNEAKY PEAKS AT ONE ANOTHER??? I’M LOOSING IT

the kiss but it's butch/femme uwu