The Angel Oak Tree Located: South Carolina

The Angel Oak Tree Located: South Carolina

MUSE RELATIONSHIP HEADCANON GAME !

send me a 🩵 and i'll answer the following regarding our muses' relationship! if you can't see the emoji, send 'light blue heart'!

who curses more?

who is more patient?

who does the driving?

who is louder? who is quieter?

who is more physically affectionate?

who is more likely to tease the other?

who is better with time management?

who wins the arm wrestling matches?

who controls the music in the car ride?

who covers dinner when they order in?

who is more outgoing? who is more shy?

who has the more outlandish fashion sense?

who starts the tickle fights? who ends them?

who has the darker/more "edgy" sense of humor?

who is more competitive when it comes to games?

who has the bigger appetite? the bigger sweet tooth?

who is more likely to get in a confrontation in public?

who hosts the parties/hangouts? who organizes them?

who is better at cooking? do they ever cook for each other?

who is more likely to engage in dangerous and/or illegal behavior?

who is more likely to notice when something is wrong with the other?

who does the talking in public settings (i.e. to the waiter at a restaurant)?

who is more likely to extend a helping hand & provide emotional support?

who is the bigger prankster? do they get the last laugh or do they suffer for it?

Anna Akhmatova, White Flock

"I'm... kind of scared."

“Just breathe.” Tamlin whispered in Feyre’s ear, as he held her posture firm and guided her hands with the new bow that she held. “I know you can fight. You are one of the bravest people I have ever met.”

He stayed right by her side, carefully knocking an arrow. They were finely crafted weapons — made from maple and sharp iron — formidable in the right hands. After Rhysand’s sudden appearance in his home, Tamlin had a sinking feeling that even his protection was not enough for Feyre. Not when Amarantha and her cuckold of spies was constantly lurking.

He needed to ensure that she was better equipped to protect herself than she’d ever been before. Training her to fight was an honor, and he would have been glad to fight by her side. Yet, it also left a hole in his chest. It was the final straw. He knew that she could no longer stay in Pyrthian.

“Draw the bow.” Tamlin encouraged. She was a fine shooter, but letting her go was the only way to keep her truly safe. “And release.”

The arrow sprung from the bow, sinking into the center of the target. He felt relief. Good — she had not lost her touch after nearly a year.

A reserved smile graced his lips. “Excellent shot.”

Feyre turned to him with a rush of new life in her eyes. “Excellent teacher.”

His heart skipped a beat in his chest, quickening as her excitement filled the fresh air. He couldn’t — her soft lips against his own silenced any protest that his mind could create.

Tamlin’s guard fell. He pulled her into his arms, in the grassy field, letting the delight of the moment overwhelm the concerns of the future. Now was all they had left. By the cauldron, he was going to enjoy it.

what if i died

🎨: listening_stars_