#and i do just see her around every once in a while plodding along on top of the same table each time

[thingsifindonthegroundsometimes]

it happened again this is so evil

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Off Day Or Day Off

Summary: Reader has a bad day due to a chronic illness they struggle with (POTS). Luckily Lizzie and Scarlett look after her.

Tw: headache, mild pots, exhaustion / fatigue, pain medicine, mentions of passing out

Words: 2129

A/n sorry for such a long absence I got diagnosed with POTS so I have been in and out of the hospital for appointments for the past few weeks. So, this fic is kinda just me projecting. Also, POTS stands for Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (for those who don’t know). Let me know if you want a part 2.

You knew today was going to be hard when you opened your eyes to see your alarm had already been going off for a good half hour.

Whilst not something that was unusual for you, it did pose some insight into how the rest of the day may go. Taking a deep breath, you gathered the strength to sit up, still feeling exhausted to your bones and wanting nothing more than to lay back down and keep sleeping.

Reaching out to smack the alarm in order to finally get it to shut up, it took a few tries to finally hit the button.

You were tired despite having slept over the recommended eight hours. You were tired when you woke up and you had no doubt you would be tired when you went to sleep.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed you braced yourself to stand up. Once on your feet you stayed upright for a good half a second before sitting back down hard.

Yep, today was an off day.

Trying again you managed to stick the landing this time, but still had to pause to wait for the patches in your vision to clear up first before doing anything.

You were vaguely aware of a dull ache in your temples and a general feeling of malaise and fatigue across your whole body.

You leant against the wall of your bedroom while pulling on some fresh pant and swapping out your pyjama shirt for a clean and presentable top.

You fought to stay upright while hopping around to stick the socks over your cold feet.

Throwing your notebook and pencil case into your backpack before pulling your laptop off the charge you added it to your bag and slung it over your shoulder, not bothering to do up the zip just yet.

Scanning the room your eyes caught on the small medical pouch were you had left it the day before. Groaning you circled back to grab it and triple check it was stocked with extra electrolyte packets before tossing it into your already full bag.

Your footsteps were heavy on the stairs as you plodded down to the kitchen, the voices of your little sister and mother only seeming to aggravate your growing headache.

You gripped the railing as you descended the stairs just in case your fatigue flared anymore than it already had.

As you shuffled into the kitchen you distantly listened to your mum wish you a good morning. Feeling tired and slightly annoyed at the whole situation you mumbled something incoherent back to her.

Scarlett had been your mother for almost ten years now after the adoption had gone through. You had met on the set for one of her earlier marvel films and due to your less-than-ideal situation and close bond with the actress she had adopted you.

It hadn’t been until a few months into living with her that she begun to take notice of your fatigue and various other issues. She had been with you every step of the process to get diagnosed and despite your fears she had stayed by your side.

You had been managing your tachycardia for a long time now and the symptoms of POTS weren’t as intense as they once were. However, from time to time you still had flare up which caused you a lot of heart ache and suffering.

As you slid into your place at the kitchen table Scarlett set down a plate of bacon and toast for you whilst she continued listening to the constant chatter stemming from your younger sister.

Scarlett nodded along with Rose’s story as she observed you closely. She had noted something was off almost straight away and knew you were doing your best to keep up a front.

It was Scarlett’s day off and as such she was tasked with taking Rose to school as Colin had headed into work early for a meeting with the writers.

You weren’t too interested in the food your mother had given you. Despite loving bacon and usually chomping it down with gusto you felt gross and tired.

Scarlett took note of your slow pace and droopy eyes as she took roses dishes back to the sink and loaded them into the dishwasher.

Scarlett had been trying to help you get better at advocating for yourself by simply making you ask for her help. She hoped it would help you speak up for yourself more now that you had more recognised needs. However, she also knew when to step in and simply help if you didn’t ask first.

She frowned at the sight of your backpack slung over the back of the chair knowing full well she didn’t want you going to uni if you were unwell.

As you continued to poke at your food with a fork and a bored expression that barely masked the exhaustion Scarlett sent rose to get dressed.

“Alright munchkin, what’s going on?” Scarlett said sitting down next to you.

“‘M fine mum. Just tired, I didn’t sleep well.” You grumbled still mining away at the edge of the slightly burnt toast with your fork.

Scarlett frowned as she knew you had been asleep before ten after she had poked her head in at around nine fifty to see if you were up.

“In that case maybe you should stay home today and get some rest sweetheart.” Scarlett said softly.

“No. No, I’m ok.” You said shaking your head which wasn’t a great idea as the patches reappeared in your vision.

“Alright.” Scarlett said admitting defeat for now. “I have to take rose to school; do you need a lift to uni?” She asked and you nodded pushing away the full plate of food. “Ok then come get your shoes on.”

You nodded again and stood. Just as she had expected Scarlett watched as you swayed on your feet slightly, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision as your hand blindly reached for the table to provide the support you needed dot stay upright.

“Alright. No.” Scarlett said. “Definitely not. You’re staying here sweet girl.”

“But i’m-“ you begun only to be cut off.

“If the next words out of your mouth are “I’m fine.” I’ll make you take the whole week off.” Scarlett said and your lips snapped shut. “Go make yourself comfortable on the couch, I’ll have lizzie come stay with you while I’m out. She has the day off too and before you start, I’m sure she would like to spend the time with you.” Scarlett said before you could protest hindering the younger actresses schedule with your change of plans.

Before you could protest Scarlett gave you a look that kept the words in your throat from leaving.

“You’re not a problem y/n. Lizzie loves to spend time with you, and it makes her feel better to be able to help you out. Plus, I don’t want to leave you here alone in case you need something or pass out.” She said sternly but kindly.

“But I haven’t passed out before.” You grumbled.

“There’s a first time for everything.” Scarlett said. “Now go get comfy while I call Lizzie.” She said pressing a kiss to your head and giving you a light shove in the direction of the living room.

As you settled into a small nest on the couch you begun scrolling through Disney plus before settling on something to watch. You heard Scarlett talking on the phone in the kitchen before she appeared and handed you a water bottle which no doubt was filled with electrolytes. She spoke to Lizzie for a bit longer before coming back once the call was done.

“Drink.” She instructed, nodding to the bottle in your lap. “Lizzie will be over soon. I have to take rose in and then we can have a movie day and see if Lizzie wants to join us.”

“Ok.” You mumbled feeling bad for ruining everyone’s plans.

“None of that. We love you and we would rather spend the day making you feel better than knowing you’re not ok and doing what we planned.” Scarlett said as she picked up roses backpack and grabbed her trainers from the doorway.

Rose came and hugged you goodbye before continuing her endless chatter about something or other as she and Scarlett disappeared out the doorway. Scarlett blowing you a kiss as she left.

Snuggling down into the blankets you felt your eyelids droop as the show played on in the background.

What couldn’t have been more than five minutes later the doorbell rang before the door opened. You knew Lizzie had a a key, but she always rung the doorbell before she let herself in just to let you know it was her.

You heard the door shut and the sound of her taking off her shoes before she came upstairs.

“Y/n?” She called out as she walked down the hallway.

“In here.” You said barely shouting.

A moment later Lizzie entered the room, her face looking a little sad at the sight of you all bundled up and sleepy, your arms wrapped around your water bottle as your eyes drifted shut.

“Hiii.” You mumbled quietly.

“Hi sweet girl. Oh, look at you, it’s not a good day, is it?” She asked as she took the seat beside you on the couch.

“No.” You huffed as you shuffled over into her side.

Lizzie’s hands went straight to your hair as she brushed her fingers through it. She guided your head to her lap and gently began braining locks of your hair. The feeling of her fingers on your scalp relaxed you as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Have some more to drink first baby, then you can have a nap, okay?” She said helping you sit up and sip some of the electrolyte drink before guiding you back to her lap as her hands took their place back in your hair.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep again.

The next time you woke up Lizzie’s hand was still gently massaging your head which was helping with the now whopping headache you had. You shifted slightly prompting Lizzie to look down from the show she had put on and see you were awake.

“Hi sweetheart, how are we feeling love?” She asked softly.

“Headache, tired and lousy.” You mumbled turning your face into her stomach making her chuckle softly at your cuteness.

“That’s no good.” She said frowning now she registered your words. “Want me to get your mum to bring some Panadol and a snack?” She asked and you nodded into her stomach.

Lizzie gently reached down and placed her hands over your ears to shield you from the noise as she began calling out to Scarlett who you hadn’t noticed return.

“Scar car you bring y/n/n some Panadol and a snack!” She called and you faintly heard your mum’s response before Lizzie was prompting you to drink some more of the electrolyte drink in your water bottle.

“Sorry I know this wasn’t what you two wanted to do on ur day off” you said to both actresses when Scarlett came in with some cupcakes, she and rose had baked the day before and a strip of Panadol.

“Honey…” Lizzie said looking sad. “I’ll always be here when you need me.” She said softly.

“Yeah, I can’t get rid of you.” Scarlett joked making all three of you laugh.

When you winced at the noise Scarlett went straight to mum mode as she popped out two of the tablets and put them in your hand before nodding to the water bottle.

“Alright, what are we watching?” Scarlett asked situating herself on your other side and pulling your legs into her lap, so you were laid across the two of them.

“Whatever y/n/n wants.” Lizzie said chucking the remote to you.

“I’m thinking marvel.” You grinned making both women groan in protest.

You put on age of ultron and barely twenty minutes in Lizzie’s gentle head scratches had lulled you back into the arms of sleep.

POTS was hard to live with but with all the people in your life supporting you it was bearable.

Part 2

@barbarasstar @charlie56

[dragonmasterhiccup]

Hiccup's extension of help reassured her a little more, returning his affirmation with a thankful nod. "I'll try to keep that in mind.."

'Loved ones that are no longer among us.'

Freya pondered on his words, subtly glancing in his direction while doing so. He must have gone through something similar to her - of losing someone, that is. She chose not to say anything, assuming he probably figured out that was her current..situation.

Humming in amusement, she waved her hand as if to tell him to hurry along. "Yeah, just be grateful you don't have a sister who might ask for you before the sun even rises.."

She politely bowed her head as he left, sighing quietly to herself and turning to her dragon. "What do you say, girl? Should we walk or fly home?"

---------------------

If Freya thought she was tired before, this didn't have a right to compare to it.

After an entire week of endlessly building and managing their village, the Bjornsons had finally made some progress. Nearly every hut was complete, and they started one of their bigger projects: The Gathering Room. Einar and Ayla said it was like the Great Hall, and she had to agree.

They only got that far because of the hours upon hours spent working and hauling all the materials in for everything everyone needed. It slowly started to take a toil on the Chieftess, to say the least. She had to give herself away to bring help to anybody she could, deal with the few complaints, handle the dragons and hurriedly build their feeding stations, study the map when she had a couple of seconds to spare, and take care of her sister and mother. She learned a lot can definitely happen in a week.

Now, when her tribe seemed to calm down, at last, she found an opportunity to sneak off for a bit of quiet time dedicated to none other but herself. She needed it. Asmund and Andri, much to her appreciation, said they would supervise the village while she left.

It led her to heavily walking through the thick foliage of the forest, pushing the staggering branches and bushes out of her way as Saphira walked by her side. "Ugh, we finally get to rest." She yelped as she stumbled on a tree root that went unnoticed, making the Sand Fury hastily save her from an unpleasant fall. Adjusting her weight with the assistance of her dragon's neck, she blew a piece of her slightly frizzy hair off her face. "Maybe not in this exact minute, but yeah.."

They continued plodding in the woodland until the two reached the edge to a small cove, both of them pausing in astonishment of how..convenient it was. The sand below excited Saphria and she gleefully roared at the sight. "Alright, alright, I guess we'll relax here." Her rider warmly mumbled, carefully following her down the hill and onto the mini beach.

Freya sighed in relief, gently taking off her cloak and practically throwing herself on the shore, not caring if her pants or anything got dirty. Her dragon best friend didn't mind, as it was evident in the way she began digging herself in the sand, so why should she? No one else wouldn't go where they were, giving them a perfect chance to just be themselves.

Realizing she still had her bow and arrow with her, the young woman pursed her lips in slight irritation, sitting up and removing the strap from her shoulder and getting it off her back. "Enjoying yourself, girl? You look like you are.." She chuckled as Saphira's tail became the only thing visible in the sand — even then, it was hard to see due to the similar color the scales had to the seashore.

"Well, make it last. We probably won't be here long–" Her speech was interrupted first by her yawn, but then once she heard a faint crack of a branch from above, causing her to be on alert. She waited a moment before swiftly grabbing an arrow and nocking it on the bow string, turning around to aim it at the direction of the noise, narrowing her eyes to see the culprit. 

Immediately, Freya recoiled, lowering her weapon in a panic as Saphria emerged from the sand, lightly growling. "Chief! It's you! Oh, Thor, I'm so sorry! I-I, uh, didn't know this area was, uh...occupied..!" She stood with a fumbling posture, bowing her head in a gawky manner. What would've happened if she released that arrow!? She would've accidentally killed the Chief of Berk, that's what!

"I really didn't know you came here. We can leave," She gestured towards the Sand Fury, gathering her things, "We're terribly sorry, we didn't know it was you and, uh..Toothless..!" Remembering she didn't have her cloak on, a rising embarrassment took over her and she quickly wrapped it around herself, properly letting it hang off her shoulders. It wasn't necessary to have on, but she had grown so accustomed to it, she felt as though her clothing wasn't complete without that covering.

Plus, it had been a gift from her father.

She bowed her head again in an apologetic manner when Saphira prowled next to her, cautiously examining Hiccup and the Night Fury. Her wings somewhat hugged Freya closer to her, sharp blue eyes narrowed and watching the two of them.

"Oh, I may not have a sister," he told her, "but I do have a Night Fury that thoroughly enjoys sunrise flights, so...I think I might have some idea of what you mean!"

-----

The week flew by in a blur. Flying Toothless, calming village disagreements, working with Gobber in the forge, and putting his people's fears to rest was only scratching the surface.

There was a second tribe on Berk now, and Hiccup was continuing to provide materials for them on top of everything else he had on his plate.

Two more trapper barges had been spotted, so he and the other riders ran two more missions to free those dragons and sink the barges.

It was exhausting, but well worth it.

He only had to sacrifice a little more sleep than usual.

Okay, a lot more sleep...

When Hiccup mistakenly addressed Gobber as 'Dad', he knew the chief was spreading himself too thin. A habit that Stoick had often exhibited in his early chiefing days.

"Hiccup? I can take care of the rest of this," Gobber said, "why don't you take some time to rest, eh? You're looking worse than Snotlout after two weeks of midnight sun!"

And so, that's how Hiccup ended up wandering through the woods with Toothless. A little more exhausted than usual.

...Maybe a lot.

He hadn't expected to run into anyone else when they reached the cove.

His prosthetic snapped a branch, and at the sight of a notched arrow pointed at him, he raised his hands at the elbow in surrender. "H-hey, don't shoot! It, it's just me."

Leave?

Waving a hand, he shook his head. "No need for that. The cove is plenty big for the four of us." Reaching the bottom of the hill, he lowered himself into a fallen log. "Besides, you were here first. If you'd like me to leave, Toothless and I can find another place."

He sighed, looking out towards the water. "I just needed to get away for a bit. I'm sure you understand, being Chieftess. It's...it's a lot of work..."

Toothless tilted his head, and Hiccup finally noticed Saphira's stance. "We didn't mean to startle you. Either of you. Sorry..." He shook his head. Usually, he would have picked up on that quicker. "Has she forgotten me already?" He asked about the dragon. "I'm not going to hurt either of you, neither will Toothless."

Clearly, they wouldn't be able to relax with him and Toothless there. With a tired sigh, he got to his feet, starting to leave. "We'll just...leave you to it, then."

[waltwhitmansbeard]

turned my water into wine #50

surprise, bitch, bet you thought you'd seen the last of me. this one was prompted by duchesscharliejames on ao3. see my masterpost.

There aren't a great many things that Grog takes seriously. Ale. Bedding women. His axe, which he sharpens with reverence every night before bed. His position within the Royal Guard, even though technically there are no more royals to guard. He's content to keep an eye on the young once-royals when they gallivant about, trusts that his size and his scowl will keep any and all threats away from his charges.

But what Grog sometimes fails to account for is how wily young children can be. Grog is fast, but not as fast as them, and it's easier to keep threats from them than it is to keep them from threatening themselves. Scanlan has accused Grog on more than one occasion of having a death wish—yes, his first thought upon being confronted by an owlbear was to wrestle it, is that so insane?—but his impulsivity could never compare to the way Vax and Keyleth's children throw themselves head-first into danger. How many times has Grog retrieved them from a tree they could climb up but not down, or snatched them back just before they darted right beneath a horse's hooves? Grog takes keeping these young ones alive very seriously, because it is, quite frankly, very difficult.

When Vilya and her visiting cousin, Vesper, wish to go play bandits in the woods, Grog is more than happy to join, mostly because he, too, loves playing bandits. The forest at the edge of Zephrah is bare this time of year, most of the leaves already littering the floor, which the girls crunch happily as they dash between trees. Grog plods along, doing his best to keep both excitable girls in his view at all times.

Vesper runs up to him and tugs on his trouser leg. "Grog, will you be a scary monster?"

Grog would love to be a scary monster. He fixes his face into a terrible grimace and roars. The girls shriek with delight and take off, and Grog gives chase. Vesper was closer, so he goes after her first, taking long, slow strides after her as she howls. He lets her get away from him for a minute or two before swooping in and catching her, lifting her high into the air as she wriggles and squeals and laughs.

Putting on his best monster voice, deep and silly, Grog says loudly, "Mmm, one little girl to eat, but I think TWO would be even better!"

Just as he turns to head after Vilya, he hears a high-pitched, terrified scream, and Grog knows in his bones that it is not the excited scream Vesper gave while being chased. He tears off at once, trying to remember the direction in which he saw Vilya run. Vesper is tucked under one arm like a ball. "Grog, was that Vilya?"

She sounds scared, and Grog doesn't know what to tell her, because he's scared, too. "I think so." His words are punctuated by a growl, low and ominous. It's coming from their left, so Grog turns and moves in that direction. Ahead, he can see her, little Vilya, back up against a tree, but she's not moving, save for the tremble Grog can see even from here.

He stops, turns, and sets Vesper high up in the branches of a tree. "Stay here," he commands, keeping his voice low. "Do not make a sound, and do not climb down on your own." Vesper nods, eyes wide with terror.

Grog's instinct is to creep forward, but the leaf litter will be too loud under foot to allow for stealth. Instead, he bounds in Vilya's direction, throwing himself, snarling and huge, between her and what he now sees to be a mountain lion ready to pounce. He roars, not the playful roar from before, but a powerful, booming, furious roar. The mountain lion ducks even closer to the ground, and so Grog takes a large, threatening step forward. Clearly decided that the delicious child would not be worth the risk, the big cat slinks off, disappearing between the trees.

Before he can turn around, Grog feels something slam into the back of his leg as tiny arms wrap around him. Vilya is shaking so much Grog's teeth chatter. He spins as best he can and crouches down in front of her. "Are you alright, Vily?"

Vilya lets go of his leg to throw her arms around his neck, and he catches her easily. "That was really scary."

Grog hugs her tight. "Yeah, it was. I haven't been that scared in a long time."

Vilya looks up at him, confused. "But you weren't scared. You were brave."

"Well, those two things can happen at the same time, Vily. I was brave in front of the mountain lion, because it's my job to keep you safe. But before that? I was very scared that something bad was going to happen to you."

"Oh." She chews her lip thoughtfully. "I'm glad you were scared, then, because it meant you could be brave, and I really needed you to be brave."

Grog hugs her again. "I'll always be brave for you, Vily, don't you worry. But hey." He tweaks her nose with his massive finger. "You were pretty brave, too."

Her eyes go wide. "I was?"

"You stared down a mountain lion. That's some hero stuff if I've ever saw it." She giggles, and he lifts her up to sit on one of his shoulders, and it's a short walk back to the tree where he left Vesper.

"VIL!" She scrambles onto Grog's other shoulder when he approaches and throws her arms around her cousin over his head. "I was really scared!"

"Me too," Vilya replies, "but I was also brave."

As Grog sets off back toward the cottage on the edge of the castle grounds, Vilya begins to tell Vesper all about her mountain lion encounter. Vesper listens in rapt attention, waiting for the end to say, "Whoa. You have got to tell everyone that story when we get home."

True fear strikes Grog right in the heart—he does not want to lose this job. "Uh, maybe we keep this adventure to ourselves, alright, girls?"

[snowbellewells]

Very Belated Birthday Gift Fic: "Fighting Dragons with You (Time of my Life)"

This birthday gift for @searchingwardrobes is nearly a month late now, but I had promised it and really didn't want to scrap the thing. Even if it's just a bit of fluffy drabble, I still wanted to give Melanie something.

This little fic takes place sometime in the future of the happy beginning we might have seen post the s6 finale, if the show had stayed in Storybrooke. Part of the idea came from listening to Taylor Swift's "Long Live". I was driving along, and when the lyrics got to "I've had the time of my life, fighting dragons with you..." I could picture an older Emma and Killian still together and happy, looking back on all their adventures and happy they had weathered them together.

The other thing that prompted this was just that I picture you, Melanie, having such a solid, supportive marriage like I tried to envision for CS here. I haven't even met your husband (and sadly I have only met you in person once) but just from what I know, you two seem to have each other's backs so beautifully, and to be such caring and committed partners, like one would hope to find in marriage. So this was meant to be a bit of a birthday tribute to that too. (If that makes any sense!)

Okay, at any rate, here is this little one shot - I hope you enjoy it!! Happy very belated birthday @searchingwardrobes

**Also available on AO3, if that is your preference**

Summary: Several years down the line, Emma and Killian are still living their happy beginning together - reveling in every challenge as long as they can face it together.

by: @snowbellewells

As they came in the door of the house with the white picket fence by the harbor, Killian and Emma Jones were out of breath, disheveled and nearly stumbling with fatigue. Emma could tell easily just how exhausted her husband was, in fact, by the way Killian let the door swing closed behind them without even looking to see it latch carefully as he usually did, and by the way he toed off his boots and left them lying haphazardly in the entry without neatly standing them side by side before plodding straight toward the living room couch. She was right behind him though in the beeline to a comfortable seat, kicking her own shoes off as well and tossing her jacket at the hall tree without even blinking when she missed by a mile.

Emma had to chuckle tiredly as they both let out groans of relief when they collapsed onto the cushions of their well-loved sofa and sank into the cozily plush support, heads falling almost simultaneously to rest on the back next to one another. She let her eyes fall closed for a minute, knowing Killian was doing the same beside her without even looking. Once their breathing slowed to normal, she carefully tried to stretch her twingeing knee and flex her stiff ankle, hating to admit to herself the discomfort that she wouldn’t have felt even five or six years ago. From the corner of her eye as it flicked back open, Emma could see Killian wincing while he gingerly worked his shoulder, and smirked in spite of herself. At least she wasn’t alone in her aches and pains reminding her that she wasn’t 28 anymore.

Even though she was more than a bit winded herself, Emma couldn’t resist resting her head on his arm along the back of the sofa and sifting her hand through Killian’s dark hair, now impressively shot through with silvery-gray strands that somehow made him even more attractive, before she teasingly asked, “Feeling your age there, Babe?”

Killian snorted indignantly, as she had expected, before retorting smartly, “I believe I am doing quite alright for my age, Love. As you well know…” Somehow, despite both of their weary bodies, a twinkle came into his eye that made her flush immediately remembering just how true his words were.

Nevertheless, she hummed low in her throat, cutting her eyes to study him playfully, “If you say so, old man.”

Shaking his head, Killian wrapped both arms around her, pulling her to him abruptly enough to startle a surprised exclamation from her as he rubbed his scruffy cheeks against her neck and collarbones until she squirmed. “Why don’t we discuss this again when an actual, living and fire-breathing dragon has tossed you about?” he chided in a low rumble at her ear.

Emma couldn’t hold onto her jesting scrutiny of him any longer; she was simply too glad that he was alright and all in one piece, though out of breath and his clothes a little singed. She was tingling with adrenaline at their victory and the excitement of fighting together once again, but she would never take for granted both of them coming through a battle unscathed - not after how many time in their lives she has nearly lost him. Her hands came up to cup his face, as she raised it for their foreheads to rest against each other, affection flooding her countenance and replacing the playful mockery. “You’re right, of course,” she whispered sincerely against his lips. “Thank you for being there with me.”

As he was all-too-often able, Killian seemed to grasp what she was thinking - both the elation, and the rush of adrenaline that came from having missed the challenge of facing a foe to save their town, their family and friends, and the spark of danger that had always stoked their simmering chemistry when they faced it head-on and side by side. Winking at her in the sassily knowing way he had perfected long ago, Killian quipped, “Admit it, Lass, you’ve missed the thrill of chasing baddies and fighting for our lives, haven’t you?” His tongue did an obscene sort of run along his lower lip as he awaited her answer, and Emma felt the heat flush across her skin in response, even though she fought to deny his observation.

She reached out to smack his chest good naturedly, already realizing he knew her too well to believe her denial anyway. Still, she tried with a laugh and shake of her head, “Hardly,” she snorted, but then added sheepishly, “Well… maybe a little.”

“Aha!” he crowed, tapping the curve of his hook lightly to the tip of her nose as if to accentuate the point. “I knew it!”

“Stop,” she grumbled, not at all pleased to be so obvious in something that really wasn’t a great opinion to admit.

Killian, sensing her hesitation, sobered quickly and gathered her closer to his chest. “Ah, Love, don’t you worry,” he murmured low against the sensitive soft skin of her shoulder, his words a whispered secret for her alone. “You ought to know I won’t tell another soul. Besides,” here he pulled away just enough to waggle his brows ridiculously at her, making her stomach heat and tingle just as it had the very first time he’d done it - when they were still on opposite sides in another realm and she hadn’t known what to do with the reaction her body already had to him, with or without her conscious permission. “Dashing rapscallion, remember? I’m having the time of my life being back in action. Wouldn’t trade it for anything, dragons and all.”

Emma huffed disbelievingly, amused despite her protests at his words, knowing that as crazy and reckless as it sounded, he meant them completely. And she agreed with him in every fiber of her being - from the Queen of Hearts, to a gigantic snow monster, the Lord of the Dead himself, Peter Pan, and Rumplestiltskin - his having her back had made all the difference. Not just facing fairy tale villains, but in facing down health scares, sheriff re-elections, Henry heading off for college, and the truth of growing older, all of it was made into an adventure because he was with her on the journey. 

Studying his face, the creases of crow’s feet accentuating his adoring smile, the curve of his irresistible lips, and the wide open blue of his eyes, Emma still had to pause a moment in wonder. How had a woman to whom no one had ever paid any attention, whom most had never even noticed - whom the one who had, hadn’t hesitated to leave behind - a lost little girl no one had ever wanted - found her way to a life and a union like this? Even after years together, she and Killian were more bonded than ever, even their differences and struggles made them more fiercely devoted as time somehow hurried on. She had found her way into the life she’d always wished for on those sad blue star candles each lonely birthday for years on end. Though she had fought him every step of the way, when she had finally let Killian in, he had more than kept his word; once he’d won her heart, she had ceased to be alone in the world.

“You know it’s true, Emma,” he pressed, the smile on his face clearly seeing and understanding her fond, amazed thoughts.

Smiling back, Emma could only reply hoarsely, “You know, you crazy pirate, as hard as it is for me, I believe you.”

Pressing his lips to her forehead, Killian chuckled - as pleased at her admission and all that they had built as she was. “Even in peace time, wherever we are, Swan, there is never a dull moment with you.”

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @kazoosandfannypacks @booksteaandtoomuchtv @anmylica @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @stahlop @bluewildcatfanatic @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @ineffablecolors @drowned-dreamer @wefoundloveunderthelight

[consumeronionbulletin]

My Lovely Liar (2023)

This drama was soo good, right up until it wasn't...

Sometimes a great drama runs out of energy right at the finish line. And it's more disappointing than a drama that just plods along the whole way.

What Worked

The premise is simple and amazing: Sol-Hui has a gift / curse that she can always tell when someone lies. It's made her lots of money and no friends. Suddenly, this reclusive neighbor with a mysterious past moves in and everything changes.

At its best, the show was funny and thrilling and cute and romantic, and I loved the first 11-12 episodes.

What Didn't Work

Then they took us on a small town murder mystery, and dragged the story around without advancing the plot, and the big reveal was (*spoilers**spoilers**spoilers*) the closeted gay producer accidentally (?) did the murder and got away with it while accidentally (??) framing his best friend / secret love interest (*end spoilers*). At least the made him feel sorry for what he did, but really it should have been (*spoiler*) the father (*spoiler*) in my opinion. That man deserved to go to jail in any case.

The Performances

Kim So-hyun as ("Liar Hunter") Mok Sol-hui. Amazing to watch. She knew when to lean into the campy parts, and when to be serious, but mostly she knew how to make the premise (which could be ridiculous at times) completely believable.

Hwang Min-hyun as ("Naive Composer") Kim Do-ha. I got frustrated with the choices they had him make. He was too naive and probably should have been killed multiple times, and yet they just let him go on being oblivious. That was mostly on the writers, but still it made me want to throw things. You can't trust crazy guys with knives who want to murder you! You can't trust cops! You really can't trust cops that used to date your current girlfriend! Not even once!! On the other hand, his chemistry with Kim So-hyun was very good.

Seo Ji-hoon as ("Mr. Policeman") Lee Kang-min. On a different kind of show, this guy would have been a secondary villain. Instead he was the second male lead with a sad backstory. He had a few good moments, but the writing made him very vanilla, and Seo Ji-hoon didn't really add anything to him.

Lee Si-woo as ("Crazy Ex-pop star") Syaon. I loved to hate her through most of this, which shows that Lee Si-woo did a good job with the material. It was like a Makjang pop-princess wandered in from another show and started messing with the plot and I enjoyed that. Then they had to clean up her act for the obligatory happy ending, and she was less interesting.

Yoon Ji-on as ("Mr. CEO") Cho Deuk-chan. This was the worst case of character assassination in favor of a lame mystery that I've seen in awhile. The actor made it kind of work, but this was just a poor writing decision. It may have been okay, if they'd let us know the character better and peeled back the layers the way they did with Choi Eom-ji, but it would definitely have changed the tone of the show. They could have had a light hearted show, or they could have had a good mystery, but these writers at least weren't able to do both.

Nam Hyun-woo as ("The worst little bro") Cho Jae-chan. I really despised this guy throughout most of the show (so a good acting job, really), then they turned him into a patsy in service of the stupid mystery and toned the character down a bit, and it just made him less interesting. Decent performance with what he was given.

Park Kyung-hye as Cassandra. It's always great seeing Park Kyung-hye at work, and I loved the dynamic between her character and the rest of the Liar Hunter gang. They could have ditched some of the other b-plots and given us more with her and I would have been happy, but I still liked what I got.

Jin Kyung as ("The Worst Mother") Cha Hyang-suk. Again, another Makjang character let loose on an unsuspecting population, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Well until they decided to try and fix her messy relationship with Sol-hui's father, but that was still kind of okay.

Seo Jeong-yeon as ("Bad Politician Mother") Jung Yeon-mi. I liked how terrible this character was. I just wish they'd had the courage to let her be terrible. I feel like there was this need to undercut her ambitious nature that they wouldn't have bothered to do with a similar male character, and that was frustrating, but the performance was still pretty good overall.

Song Ji-hyun as ("Crazy Dead Girlfriend") Choi Eom-ji. I liked how complex they made her. One of the strong points for the show was how this young woman (and her death) touched different characters lives both good and bad. There was something about her arc at the end of the show that left a bad taste, but the performance overall was good.

Kwon Dong-ho as ("Walking Assault Case") Choi Eom-ho. This was another example of a Makjang character let loose, but I think they needed to reign him in just a little bit. Just did way too much assault, fraud, and general criminal behavior without any consequences and it frustrated me.

Seo Hyun-chul as ("Real Folk Blues") Jang Joong-gyu. Honorable mention to the guy that ran the jazz club, just because he was fun to watch and I really liked his interactions with the other characters.

The Other Village People. I kind of didn't care about the other business owners in Yonso-dong. Sometimes it was amusing, but mostly it was just okay. It was kind of fun watching the bakery owner dump flour all over the shifty real-estate people's office.

Everyone else. The bodyguard was fun at times, but overall not that interesting. The subplot with the up and coming wanna-be pop stars was lame. The stuff with the terrible dance coach who went after Syaon was frustrating and a little lame. Also, the cop stuff was kind of cute, but I still don't like cops. At least the crooked cop that got paid off by Bad Politician Mom was somewhat realistic. Mostly with the apathy, low pay, and general lack of accountability.

TL; DR:

Overall a good show that kind of limped into the finish line. The cute romantic stuff was very cute, the lie detector hijinks were very amusing, and the trauma bonding over terrible parents was also fun to watch. Just wish they'd made a few different choices.

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Chapter 2: The Beginning

Narrated by Qingyue.

Narrator: A hundred years ago, Cloudcrest was the capital of Cloud, and it was also the place where I once lived.

Narrator: When I was young, I often dreamed about the vast galaxies and a full moon, and someone whispering in my ears.

Narrator: I was too young to understand the dream, but my father often said...

Cloudcrest Lord: Qingyue, don't think so much at a young age. If you figure everything out in a day, you will feel life has become too boring.

Narrator: He always let me do what I love. I was interested in medicine, so he collected wonderful books for me during his expeditions.

Narrator: Merchants came to Cloudcrest twice a month. The city was short on medicines and doctors, so I often treated people here.

Narrator: At that time, the mansion was always filled with medical books and the scent of bitter herbs.

Narrator: One day as I was gathering herbs in the wild, I saw a rabbit dying on the ground, holding a piece of white jade.

Qingyue: Little rabbit, are you alright?

Narrator: It struggled to open its eyes as it looked at me, shivering slightly in my arms.

Narrator: I brought it back home and used various herbs to treat it, hoping that it could get well.

Narrator: From that day on, the galaxies and full moon appeared in my dreams again. But this time, there were other changes.

Choose "Other changes?"

You: Other changes?

Narrator: Every time I got close to the jade, I would hear a strange noise leading me to the sky.

Narrator: The moonlight was bright that night, and for the first time I heard a sound other than the noise.

Voice: It's a long business trip. No matter how long I have to wait, I just want him to return home safely...

Narrator: It sounded like prayers and worries.

Narrator: I opened the door and found my maid Jade kneeling under the osmanthus tree with tears in her eyes.

Qingyue: Were those... her innermost thoughts?

Narrator: I walked over. She suddenly raised her head from her arms, seeming to be startled by me.

Jade: M-My Lady, you're still awake!

Narrator: She was teary-eyed as if I had read her mind.

Qingyue: Don't be nervous. You were alone, so I came over to see if you needed someone to talk to.

Narrator: Perhaps the gentle moonlight touched her. She hesitated for a while before talking.

Jade: My father is a merchant and has been away from home for half a year. But I haven't heard from him for a few months.

Jade: I'm afraid he will never come back...

Narrator: Sure enough, what I heard just now were her innermost thoughts.

Narrator: Strangely, when she confided in me, the jade in my hand warmed up.

Narrator: Stroking the warm jade, I saw a picture in the mist before me.

Narrator: A merchant was plodding along the mountain road, his clothes dirty like he had just fallen down.

Merchant Is there no place to send a letter...? If I don't return before the Mid-Autumn Festival, my wife and daughter will complain.

Narrator: He seemed to think of something. He took out a package from inside his shirt, opened it, and stared at a beautiful hairpin.

Narrator: There were no lights around. He held the hairpin up to the moonlight, examining it carefully, and sighed.

Merchant: If Jade gets angry because I was late, I can give her the hairpin as a gift, and she will forgive me.

Choose "It's her father!"

You: It's Jade's father!

Narrator: Yes, the white jade made me hear her innermost thoughts and see the people she was thinking of. It must be a divine object.

Narrator: I comforted Jade, telling her it was hard to find a post to send a letter.

Qingyue: Perhaps the person you care about is also thinking of you under the moonlight.

Narrator: People were looking forward to hearing from their families. They would be relieved if they knew one another's wishes.

Baishuo: The jade has found its master. Since you can read people's thoughts, maybe it was waiting for you.

Narrator: Baishuo put down the book in his hand and leaned over to look at me tenderly.

Qingyue: Thank you, Baishuo.

Narrator: It was the first time I conveyed thoughts on people's behalf. I still remember Jade's tears and her grateful look that day.

Narrator: I'm glad I met Baishuo and experienced all kinds of wistfulness under the moonlight.

Narrator: Under the same bright moon, people can bathe in the same moonlight even if they are thousands of miles apart.

Narrator: Experiencing wistfulness, people can feel close even if they are apart.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

[huckleberrykai]

choi yeonjun ~ picturesque

pairing: yeonjun x gn!reader summary: you go on a cute date with your boyfriend, who just so happened to bring his new camera. genre: fluffy fluff fluff warnings: just fluffy, lots of petnames, kinda insecure reader if u squint (doesn't like having their picture taken) ummmm oh also a butt tap bcs i wanted to :P notes: @nfrgirl SORRY THIS REQUEST TOOK LIKE 84 YEARS i hope u like it anyway 💗 word count: 0.9k click here for my masterlist!

whenever yeonjun had a day off, he always liked to spend it with you. no matter what he was doing he always managed to turn it into a cute date.

and that's exactly what he was going to do this time. he'd recently bought himself a new camera and asked if you'd like to tag along to somewhere nice for him to try it out with the promise of only taking pictures of the scenery. you know, like a liar.

he drove you to a cute park, somewhere out of the way but still lively - filled with nature and greenery, a few squirrels running by your feet while birds sang all around you. it was adorable, and as you walked hand in hand you heard the shutter go off on his camera.

"yeonjun! you promised no pictures of me," you whined when you saw the lens was pointed right at you. "i'm sorry cutie, you just look so pretty i couldn't help it." he grinned, looking down at his camera to see how the photo came out.

two could play at that game.

the two of you found a nice spot to sit down and rest, pulling some drink bottles out of your backpack to stay hydrated in the warm weather, sun beaming down on you and your boyfriend. as you sipped your drink you couldn't help but notice how the light shone on him perfectly, completely picturesque despite doing nothing. he moved to start taking some pictures of the surroundings, and you took his distraction as your chance to sneak a couple of your own shots.

he didn't seem to notice, and you grinned to yourself at the cute photos you now had of your perfect boyfriend.

yeonjun however, did notice. and the second he saw your pretty smile..

*click*

your head snapped up, seeing him laughing to himself, camera pointed right at your face. again.

you shrugged it off, moving to sit next to him and taking the camera from his hands. "no more pictures," you told him, resting your head on his shoulder while his arm came to wrap around your back.

he let out a chuckle but obliged, resting his own head on yours - but not before pecking a soft kiss to your temple.

you stayed there and relaxed for a while, commenting on your surroundings - just talking about everything and nothing all at once in the arms of your sweet superstar boyfriend. times like this were rare with his schedules, but it just made it all the sweeter when you could spend time together.

it wasn't until you got interrupted by a cute dog running up to you that yeonjun had a chance to grab his camera again. you payed him no mind while you played with the puppy in front of you, cooing at petting it until the owner came to take her away. "bye sprinkles!" you cooed, watching the dog plod away on her leash - not noticing yeonjun taking pictures of you and the dog the whole time.

you groaned again. "you didn't even warn me!" you complained. "your candid photos are so cute though! you look so happy baby. i could look at you smiling forever," he told you genuinely. he may have been cheesy but he meant every word, and you knew that - the realisation bringing heat to your cheeks.

"come on, let's keep walking." you stood up and reached out a hand to help him up. he took it gratefully and grabbed all of his belongings before following you back down to the path. he caught up to you and brought his hand to pat your butt, complaining you had grass on your backside - but you knew better than to believe that >.<

as you walked around you couldn't ignore how cute he looked, taking pictures of birds, dogs, flowers - you had to grab a few more sneaky shots. he had done the same after all~

he noticed straight away, but this time he didn't hide it. "hey! if i can't get cute candid shots neither can you." he whined. "you get you picture taken every day! you know how to look good without trying." you argued back.

yeonjun lifted an eyebrow and walked closer to you, shoving his camera into the case on his shoulder and landing his hands on your waist. "baby.. do you know just how beautiful you are? how lucky i am to have you? you could be wearing a garbage bag and i'd still want to take pictures of you." he confessed, making your heart burn. you didn't know what to say, just caressing his arms gently and avoiding eye contact.

he didn't like this, and so hooked a finger under your chin to raise your eyes to his. "please can i take more? i won't show them to anyone if you don't want me to.. but you look stunning." he asked sweetly. you could never say no to him, so you nodded - earning a cute grin and a kiss on the lips from your handsome boyfriend.

"now come on, i wanna take some with you next to that statue up there!" he pointed to the other end of the park, grasping your hand with his free one to drag you off in the right direction.

all you could do was follow him and watch him in his element, taking photos of his favourite subject, his muse, you <3

fluff taglist: @fairy-of-sugar @subbyjvnnie @mazeinthemoon @n0-thisispatrick @strawberry-kirby @majestyjun

[sagemonsters]

A Tiger of Persia

Summary: Sirvan, a disabled veteran of Xerxes the Great’s campaign against the Greeks in the fifth century BCE, returns home seeking a wife. Set with the seemingly impossible task of capturing and taming a tiger in exchange for a woman’s hand in marriage, Sirvan finds himself initially despairing… and then realizing that he was, perhaps, searching for love in the wrong place.

Status: SFW (for now)

Pairing: cis male weretiger x cis male human

Chapter 3 of 5

*

<< first chapter | < previous chapter

In the morning, the two men broke their fast with water and small cakes of fruit and grain cemented together with honey prior to baking. After this traveler’s fare was downed, they once more ranged through the mountains in search of signs of the tiger. It had not rained the previous night, and the ground was harder and did not hold tracks as well.

Sirvan was filling his waterskin from a spring that burbled up between two rocks in a valley when Dhvasanti shouted. He pulled himself upright and limped as quickly as he could to the other man, halfway drawing his sword before he realized that the Indian was shouting in excitement rather than terror.

“Look, look!” Dhvasanti said.

The half-eaten carcass of a horned wild sheep had been dragged beneath a rocky outcropping at the sloping edge of the valley. Sirvan knelt to examine it; the teeth-marks on the bones weren’t right for wolves or wild dogs, and the faint prints in the dirt around the carcass couldn’t be those of a bear. 

“It must be the tiger’s work,” he said.

“I agree,” Dhvasanti said. “We are close.”

Sirvan nodded. “Yes. Be on your guard and stay close to me; we cannot be sure how near the tiger is, and I have no desire to see you die.”

Dhvasanti smiled one of his enigmatic smiles. “Worry not; I have always been a survivor.”

Sirvan was not impressed. “Let us hope that the tiger has nothing to say about that.”

Dhvasanti did not seem even slightly concerned.

The two men scouted the area, and managed to find more marks left behind by a large predator. They climbed further into the wild hills, and every step Sirvan took sent pain flaring up his leg. He wished to ride, but the terrain was all but impossible for the gray mare to traverse; she slowed their progress even unburdened of a rider, and sitting astride her back would have entailed risking a painful fall.

The sky clouded over in the late morning, which gave them some relief from the sun as they continued the search. The wind picked up as well, tugging at their clothes and hair and bringing the wet promise of coming rainfall.

“If this storm breaks, we will lose the trail,” Sirvan warned.

“We should find shelter,” Dhvasanti said.

Sirvan squared his shoulders. “I cannot abandon the hunt when we are so close; I will press on alone if you wish to go back to the village.”

“I am no coward or fair-weather friend,” Dhavanti said with a toss of his head. “I will stay with you, Sirvan, no matter how much of a fool you are. I believe there is a cave nearby; let us go there, at least, and wait out the rain.”

Sirvan squinted at his companion. “How do you know there is a cave?”

“I have been wandering through these hills for a fair while. Please, Sirvan, let us go.”

The first raindrops pattered against Sirvan’s face, and he thought again of bandit ambushes. “Dhvasanti—”

“I can accept being damp, Sirvan, but not soaked through. I swear to you that the tiger will still be out there when the rain stops.”

Sirvan sighed. “Very well. Lead the way.”

The rain, of course, settled into a proper downpour well before they reached the promised cave, and Dhvasanti mutely endured his soaking as he kept pace with Sirvan’s limping progress. The gray mare plodded along behind them, looking just as miserable as the two men felt with water dripping from her mane and tail.

The cave was not a bandit’s pretense, although it was also little more than a rock overhang. The sandy floor, however, was mercifully dry. Sirvan removed the tack from the mare in an effort to salvage the leather saddlebags of his rations and other supplies, then removed his sodden clothing. Dhvasanti did the same. The day was chill, but the overhang protected them from the worst of the westerly wind as well as the rain.

“A pity we cannot have a fire,” Dhvasanti said. They sat shoulder to shoulder and watched the sheets of rain pelt down over the valley spread out before them.

Sirvan snorted. “Pity indeed. It was my leg that slowed our progress here, however, and for that you have my apology.” 

“I do not accept it,” Dhvasanti said. “I refuse to accept it, even. I will admit that I enjoy complaining—but it was my choice to stay with you, and my choice to get rained on as much as I did. You are not responsible for my current state.”

“Yes, but…” Sirvan began, but found the words turning to ash in his mouth. He looked down and stretched out his injured leg in front of him, rubbing his scarred knee to save himself from admitting his error. He had assumed treachery from Dhvasanti, and had been proven wrong. He had assumed the worst of his new companion, and had been proven wrong, and now regret took root in his heart. 

Dhvasanti clasped his shoulder. “I understand,” the Indian murmured. 

Sirvan reached up and wrapped his own hand around Dhvasanti’s, feeling the man’s strong brown fingers against his own. “I thank you,” he said.

Dhvasanti sighed. “The father of this Mahya of yours, Salman, is a coward. He wanted to refuse your offer of marriage, but for whatever reason chose to give you an impossible task instead. Tigers cannot be tamed, you know…” He turned his tawny eyes upon Sirvan. “Unless they choose to be,” he finished.

“And what do you think this tiger will choose?” Sirvan asked.

“I think he will never wear an iron collar again, no matter how prettily it is offered.”

Sirvan pulled away from Dhvasanti to scrub at his face with his hands. “Perhaps this journey is in vain,” he admitted, voice soft. “Perhaps it is nothing more than a measure of my arrogance and naïve desires. I was little more than a boy when I took up my sword for the King of Kings, and now that I have returned to Persia… If we are being wholly honest with one another, Dhvasanti, I am not sure what I want either. I have wanted to marry the daughter of my father’s friend since before I became a man, but now I do not know if she will make me happy. I do not know if I will make her happy. There is so much I do not know, and the Lord of Wisdom offers so little reassurance.”

Dhvasanti huffed and leaned back against the rock wall of the back of the overhang. “Then admit defeat,” he said. “Go back to Susa and tell Salman you have failed. Find some other woman to wed. Live out your days. Raise your children. Die in your dotage.”

Sirvan grimaced. “My pride forbids such a thing—I would rather the tiger eat me.”

“Fool,” Dhvasanti pronounced, but his voice had no real heat. He looked out over the rain-darkened valley. “Tigers live all their lives alone. They raise their cubs alone, and see each other only in passing over territorial disputes. They do not know loneliness, or love, or heartache—and I envy them that, truly. The feelings I am having now are… vexing.”

“The price for mankind’s wisdom is sorrow,” Sirvan agreed. Then: “Have you thought any more about what you shall do once your time in Persia reaches its end?”

Dhvasanti chewed his lower lip for a moment, thinking. “I will travel,” he said at last. “I want to see the African kingdoms with their rivers of gold and behold the wonders of China.”

“If you ever return to Persia, you must call upon me in Susa and tell me of the marvels you have witnessed.”

Dhvasanti turned back to his companion. “Why not come with me, Sirvan? I do not want to travel alone; I would be happier with a companion, and I think—forgive my presumptuousness—I think you would be happier with distance between yourself and Mahya.”

“I will need to consider this,” Sirvan admitted. “If my father had other heirs, I would not hesitate, but he is aging and I cannot abandon him.” The offer was incredibly tempting, though—the taste of the wider world that Sirvan had experienced upon leaving Susa with the Persian army had only whetted his appetite for more.

Dhvasanti nodded, then lightly gripped the back of Sirvan’s neck and guided their foreheads together. The two men breathed each others’ air for long minutes, and then Sirvan angled his head and brought his mouth against Dhvasanti’s. 

Dhvasanti took a surprised breath, then smiled against Sirvan’s lips and tangled his fingers in the Persian’s dark curls. “Tigers may not know loneliness or love,” he whispered, breathless, his tawny eyes blazing, “but I cannot help but be thankful to know you, Sirvan, and to desire you.”

Sirvan kissed him again at that, harder—and then they pulled apart.

“This is not—” Dhvasanti began.

“The tiger—” Sirvan began at the same time.

They stopped, looked at each other, and exchanged wry smiles. 

“We shall have to hurry and find the tiger when this rain stops,” Sirvan said, “I want to enjoy myself with you on a proper bed, in Susa, once this damned hunt is over and done with.”

“What of Mahya?” Dhvasanti asked.

“She is a very eligible woman and has no shortage of suitors. At this point, capturing the tiger is, I will admit, more for the sake of my pride than for the offered reward. I will speak with my father upon our return, and perhaps something can be arranged for us to travel together without requiring me to abandon my filial duties.”

“I would like that,” Dhvasanti murmured. 

“I am glad, Sirvan replied, and spread his drying mantle over the sandy floor beneath the overhang so that he could recline upon it. Dhvasanti curled up against him, and they watched the rain together. After a time, Sirvan’s eyes slipped closed.

*

Did you enjoy this chapter of A Tiger of Persia? Please consider buying me a coffee so I can have a warm drink while I write.

Currently, there are only 3 chapters of A Tiger of Persia. I will update this section with a link to chapter 4 when it becomes available. Thank you for understanding!

statement in regards to cultural respect

[anabsolutetrainwreck]

for your eyes only || h. styles

warnings: swearing, references to drugs

word count: 2.5k

summary: harry is feeling the pressure of making his new album...

You were already in bed by the time Harry got home. Though still awake, your eyes were heavy and your body ached for rest. But you’d never been able to sleep without knowing Harry was safe at home. 

The slamming of the front door echoed through your house. You listened silently as he hung up his coat and kicked off his shoes. You heard him wander into the kitchen, turn on the tap and pour himself a glass of water. After a couple of minutes, he ventured upstairs, heading straight into the bathroom. He began brushing his teeth. 

All the while, you stared out the window of your bedroom. It looked out onto the London streets, dimly lit by the street lights. The bedroom was dark, only illuminated slightly by the outside sky and all of its stars and the moon. 

Harry had been at the studio all day. He’d been stressing about writing his new album. He had started coming home late and leaving early. You barely saw him anymore. You always left him some leftovers in the fridge for him to eat when he got in or take for his lunch. Every time you tried to ask him if he was okay or if he needed to take a break, he’d just shrug you off and tell you he was fine. 

You’d seen a similar thing when he was making his first album, but it was never as bad as this. You’d seen it when he was trying to finish Watermelon Sugar, but it was never as bad as this. 

You felt the bed sink beside you, which consequently woke your cat, who was sleeping at the bottom of your bed. His name was Podge. Rolling over to face Harry, you smiled softly at him. You wanted to be angry at him for never telling you where he was anymore or prioritising his album over your relationship, but you just couldn’t be. You always knew where he was. He went to the studio all day and then would go back to Sarah and Mitch’s for a bit during the evening. “How are you?” he whispered, wrapping his arm around your body.

“Tired,” you replied, squeezing him tightly.

He pressed his lips lazily to the top of your head. You smiled at the feeling of his touch. “Go to sleep then,” he mumbled. 

“But I haven’t seen you today. And I won’t see you tomorrow,” you sighed. “I just miss you. And I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, love. You know I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

You sat up, turning back to him. He frowned, propping himself up against the headboard. “That’s the thing. I don’t think you would tell me.”

“What? Where did you get that idea?” 

“Well, you never told me when you were making your first album. You never told me when you were trying to finish Watermelon Sugar. You don’t have a great track record of being transparent when it comes to telling me when you’re not okay,” you explained. “Instead, all you do is come home and go to sleep. Then you wake up before me to get to the studio early. And even when you finish at the studio, you go back to Sarah and Mitch’s. She’s fucking pregnant, Harry, give them some time alone.”

He sat there and took it like a small child being scolded by his mother. He played with his fingers as you tried not to shout. You both knew it would only be a matter of time before you broke and all your feelings would come pouring out. 

The sound of Podge whining at the bottom of the bed interrupted your heated rant. He plodded his way up to the two of you, settling in between you both. He often did that. He’d clamber up to the top of the bed to sleep between your bodies when everyone was comfortable.

Harry reached down to run his hand along Podge’s soft back. You sighed, throwing the covers off your legs. “I’m going to get a drink,” you told him as you left him alone in the bedroom. 

He watched you leave. He didn’t call out or beg for your forgiveness. That was never how arguments were handled in your relationship. He sighed, getting comfortable in bed again, waiting for your return. The sound of Podge purring was enough to calm his nerves as he listened to you pour yourself a glass of water in the kitchen. He listened carefully as you walked around a bit, before he heard the back door open and close. 

You often went outside to take a moment to collect your thoughts whenever you and Harry got into an argument. Harry knew this. 

You set your glass down as you sat down on the bench against the wall. The fabric was cold against your thighs. You looked up at the bedroom window, wondering whether Harry was contemplating everything you’d said or if he was comfortably falling asleep. 

Harry waited for you to return. You never did. You’d gone to sleep in the spare bedroom. The two of you were too tired to take it too further tonight. So, you both slept, knowing tomorrow would either be full of shouting and tears of frustration or pettiness. 

However, when Harry woke in the morning, he climbed out of bed to apologise to you. Podge followed after him, his claws loud on the floor. But you were gone. The bed in the spare bedroom was made. He slowly made his way down to the kitchen, his nerves getting the better of him. Had you really left? 

There was a note on the kitchen counter by the bowl of fruit. ‘GONE OUT FOR BREAKFAST WITH GEM’. Harry looked over at the clock on the wall. It was thirteen minutes past nine. But he didn’t know when you’d written the note. He quietly poured himself a glass of orange juice and buttered some toast. He went out into the back garden, sitting down in the very spot you’d sat in a few hours earlier. 

The weather was nice. The sky was blue and there was a moderate breeze in the air. His phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up to reveal the picture of you he had set as his lock screen. Your slightly pixelated smile was electric through the screen as you cradled Podge in your arms when he was just a kitten. 

The notification was from Mitch. He couldn’t make it to the studio. Harry replied quickly, telling him it wasn’t a problem. It was Saturday anyway. Granted, Harry could probably do with a day off. But, even when he lay in bed all day doing absolutely nothing, he was still working.

That was the trouble with making an album: it plays on your mind until it’s finally out in the hands of the public. More so, Harry noticed, with his solo albums. And that was why Harry seemed to spend every waking moment in the studio. He figured that he might as well be in an environment where he can turn his epiphanies into harmonies.

He heard the front door open and close. You were home. Harry finished the remnants of his orange juice. Podge appeared in the doorway, rubbing his head along on the edge of the threshold. Shortly after, you followed. You were standing in the doorway, shuffling awkwardly. “Not going to the studio today?” you asked, sitting down opposite him. 

He shrugged, “Might do. It’s still early yet.”

You nodded. There was no pettiness. There was no shouting. There was just silence with intervals of small talk. Harry watched you as you fiddled with your fingers, your knee bouncing. You were nervous, he could tell. “How was Gemma?” he asked. 

“She was great,” you replied. “Asked how you were.”

“Yeah? What did you tell her?”

“I said you were fine,” you shrugged. “Just busy with the album.”

He nodded slowly, “Right.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, sitting up straight. You felt Podge run his body along your leg beneath the table. “What? Was I wrong to say that?” you asked, worrying that you’d done something wrong. 

He shook his head quickly, “No, no.”

Harry didn’t say anything more. He was closed off. There was something he wasn’t telling you. You’d been with Harry long enough to know this. Usually, he was quite open with you. He told you what felt like everything. But this never applied to his music. His job. You and his job were two separate things. He made that explicitly clear from the very beginning. You were never to get mixed up with his music and his music was never to get mixed up with you. The line between the two was never blurred. 

But this meant he hardly ever told you when he was struggling or when he felt like he needed a break from it all. You only ever heard songs when they were finished. You only ever saw music videos when they were complete. You had only ever been to one awards show with him - the 2020 Brits. You had never even seen the inside of the studio. You had only met his band on a handful of occasions, all of which had been on nights out or for celebratory dinners, never when they were rehearsing. 

It was like he was leading two lives. 

“You are okay, aren’t you?”

He nodded, “Sure. Just a bit stressed.”

You sighed, exasperated, “You always say that! Every time I ask if you’re doing alright, you just shrug and tell me you’re ‘a bit stressed’. Harry, ‘a bit stressed’ isn’t spending every day at the studio. It isn’t spending all night at the piano, trying to get a song just right. It isn’t constantly comparing yourself to other artists, trying to work out what worked for them and what didn’t. It isn’t getting high every time you fuck something up. It isn’t acting like you have no life outside of the music you make.”

“I don’t! I don’t have a life outside of the music I make. Don’t you get it? I’ve dreamed of this my entire life. I reached the top with the band. And once you’ve had a taste of what it’s like to own the fucking world, everything you do becomes about trying to get there again. It’s like a fucking drug. When it’s been in your system once, it lives there forever and you can’t stop thinking about it. You crave it,” he snapped. You winced as you watched him become so worked up, tears of frustration falling down his cheeks. He dragged his fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands harshly. 

It took you a moment to absorb everything Harry had said. Last night, it had only been a matter of time before you’d broken. Today, it had only been a matter of time since Harry broke. You were sick of it. Harry was sick of it. You let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly as his words registered, “I don’t know if you need to hear this from me. I don’t know if anyone has ever actually said this to you. But you’ll never be as big as the band.”

Harry looked up, his eyebrows knitted together. He looked offended. As anyone would be, you supposed. “What?” he squeaked out. 

“I know it’s brutal. And I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but you’re never going to be as big as the band. And it’s shit, Harry, I know. But you’re a fifth of that band. Some fans left with Liam, and some left with Zayn, and some left with Louis, and some left with Niall. And some left with you. And some left with all five of you. But the point is you’re missing four of the components you had when you owned the world. That band was fucking massive, Harry.”

He didn’t say anything for a while. You didn’t expect him to. You’d said all you felt you needed to say to him. And, while you knew you’d never be able to relate to exactly how Harry was feeling, you’d seen the devastating consequences stardom has on a person. You pressed on, “You owned the fucking world, Harry. But you owned it with four other guys. And I don’t think you could do it on your own.”

He sighed, nodding, “It’s just hard.”

“I know, baby. But it won’t get easier if you just don’t stop. You need to step back from this toxic mindset you’ve got yourself into. You literally just won a Grammy, give yourself a break,” you said. 

“That’s the point. I won a Grammy for Watermelon Sugar. What if I can’t make that again?” he sighed.

“Harry, you’ll never be able to make it again. Surely that’s the beauty of it all, right? Nobody wants to hear you put out another Watermelon Sugar. I can guarantee your fans would be happy to listen to what you want to make,” you said. 

It felt so foreign to be talking to Harry about these kinds of things. You’d reassured him and given him advice on all sorts, but never about the music industry. That was his area of expertise. But spending time with Gemma always put you in some sort of healthy frame of mind.

You reached across the table to squeeze his hand. There was no way you could still be angry at Harry for spending so much time away from the house. He wiped away the stray tears that clung to his cheeks. He reached down to cuddle Podge, who’d jumped up onto the bench at some point or another. “Thanks,” he said quietly, finally looking you in the eyes. “I’m sorry for getting so worked up over this. It’s so pathetic.”

“Don’t apologise, H. I love you and I’m always gonna be here for you. Please don’t be embarrassed about these things. I’ll never judge you for being emotional,” you smiled softly. 

“You’re too good for me,” he said, grinning across at you. 

You leaned back in your chair, shrugging, “Probably. I do think of this relationship as more of charity work.”

He laughed, “You’re so selfless!”

“I know! What can I say, some heroes don’t wear capes,” you smirked. 

It was moments like these, with the sun beaming down at the two of you, that you’d missed. Harry was smiling again. It felt like something you hadn’t seen for weeks. 

The truth was, Harry had always found it easier to express his feelings through the art of music. And, while this posed many benefits for him, it meant that, when he was trapped with writer’s block, he found it difficult to free himself of the burdening stresses of his industry. 

You got to your feet, extending your hand to Harry, “Come on, you’ve not had a shower for days. You stink.”

[godblooded]

allyson pauses, and she reaches to touch — and alana touches in turn, ever so gently takes her hand in her own. very much smelling of peanut butter milkbones and the comfort that has become synonymous with. she encompasses a hand with both of hers, squeezing just once before a click floods the house deeper with warm, soft light. the flight of stairs to her bedroom winds up and out of sight in a turn to the corner, shadows obscured and unbothered.

“please. i may be dr. bloom, but i’m always alana.”

a factual absolute that goes on forever. she might be dr. bloom, but she’s always, always and simply alana. guinefort, tall and princely and soft and snowy, tips his great head up, nose offered, and alana bends just so with a hand braced at an end-table to meet it. politely, the big, white, soundless canine wanders ahead of his mother into the kitchen, eyes like ice in a shade that matches the good doctor’s. saucey trots excitedly curled nearly against allyson, sandy paws clicking little nails on hardwood floors for desired attention. she’s the smallest of alana’s and the most trusting, a clear display. she thinks that applesauce is most how she used to be.

“we say what we mean in this house,” she resumes allyson’s questioning hold, her other hand guiding that sleek black cane to keep herself steadied. her back aches like a radiating thing, “but the guest bathroom’s just there. and then the kitchen, yard over that way. it leads through to the living room. my bedroom’s upstairs through the foyer, along with a guest bedroom. much smaller than my old place, but i like it better. it’s very comfortable. it’s been a long time since i’ve gotten to feel comfortable. —see? i told you. we say what we mean.”

she shrugs her shoulders, leather tote tumbling routinely to the counter. the kitchen island floats, detached, lights hanging just about, chairs upholstered with soft florals where one can perch while cooking. the cabinets need resurfacing, but she’s already planning on that.

“me, too. when i was little we couldn’t afford a dog. well, we definitely didn’t have the room. but we definitely couldn’t afford one. i looked after a little pack of dogs for a friend, once. when they left it felt hollow. i missed it. —and so, applesauce. she’s a rescue. —she likes applesauce.”

alana feigns a whimper of a whine and the little sandy goldendoodle comes a-calling, almost launching into her shins. she laughs softly and her eyes crinkle with it. roger and daisy, her two dalmatians, plod lazily around, one with a red collar, one blue. guinefort, her shepherd-husky, moves without a single sound, ears like great alabaster satellites. waffles is her corgi, a caramel loaf of dog on stubby legs who gleefully launches from place to place. she points to each as she names them.

“they’re all rescues, actually. a few found, a few sought out. they’re my babies. when i could still run, i’d send applesauce off like a shot through my yard. and all i had to do was whistle. she raced back every time. i know she misses it. i can apologize with treats.”

@all5horizons [HAIR]: in the process of pushing the receiver’s hair back from their face, the sender lets their hand rest against the receiver’s cheek a moment longer. / from allyson for alana in the post-halloween kills au. why not.

alana bloom is known to be foolish. it’s become her brand, to some extent, to make bad choices based entirely on their emotional merit. that is to say for all her intellect, all her brilliance, all her tactful control — it seems to go out the window, actually (she thinks it, and it’s well enough she doesn’t laugh) when she’s faced with sincerity. that touch lingers at her cheek and blue eyes flick down to lips and then up again to soft, soft, soft brown. and truly, she should feel some shame.

a little. a little, as she turns her nose inward to brush lovingly against a palm, to reverently touch the creases of that hand with just a feeling. it seems entirely necessary. her kiss is a butterfly thing, it beats and exists for only seconds, but it’s significance is an alteration to time itself.

“would you like to come in?” she pauses. “that’s not an insinuation. i’m having a nice night, and sometimes i could stomach being selfish enough to want it to continue.”

applesauce’s gentle, effeminate bark breaks in a squeak from behind the house’s second door. alana leans on her cane just a touch for the reliability of the weight, but she stays angled just against her companion. and she’s thankful to be so small. in comparison, she fits very comfortably just slotted here in the warm glow of her porch-light.

“my dogs are very accepting. but they’re going to be very underfoot at first. —you’re impeding on their time with mom. they need to deem you worthy.”

her door clicks open. she leans it a bit further with her cane. five sets of swishing tails furiously sweep the floor just a few feet from them both. her legs ache, and her lower back feels like a solid entity, but she’s managing. she smiles, and it feels unhaunted.

“you’ll find a small bowl of treats behind you. just share them liberally. this is an equal opportunity household—all for treats, treats for all.”

[halaboyz]

–– COFFEE // WOOYOUNG.

pairing: barista, blockmate! wooyoung x gn! reader genre: fluff, a pinch of angst ;; kind of slow-burn grr word count: 4.7k warnings // notes: profanities, poorly written, no more that i know of ;; mentions of this one-shot <33, still can be read alone though!

Wooyoung grimaced as he looked at his friend, Jongho, being lovey-dovey with his partner at the corner of the cafe, unconsciously gripping tighter on the glass he was currently wiping.

“What’s your problem with them?” Yeosang, who was beside him, sneered at the obviously bitter man. “You basically brought them together, what are you so disgruntled for?” Yeosang threw him a glare because, unlike Wooyoung, Yeosang was happy for Jongho.

“First of all, excuse you, I am not anywhere near disgruntled for Jongho,” Wooyoung immediately changes his face to a happy one, “Secondly, my only problem with them is that they are flirting in my cafe,” He explained, pointing a finger at Yeosang as if making a point.

“Correction– your parent’s cafe.” Yeosang scoffed, “Wait–” Yeosang stops in his tracks and gasps at Wooyoung. “Don’t tell me.. you like–” Wooyoung quickly drops the glass he was wiping on the table to cover Yeosang’s mouth, glaring at him.

“I think the fuck no,” Wooyoung hisses, pushing Yeosang aside to welcome the entering customer.

Wooyoung washes his hands and wipes them on the apron on his hips, pulling a smile on his face as he leans on the counter.

“Welcome! what would be your order?” Wooyoung beams, stealing a glance once more at the couple at the corner of the cafe.

“I'd like a large hazelnut latte and a slice of blueberry cheesecake, please,” You smile at him, anxiously tipping on your toes as you giddily looked at the defined man in front of you.

“Name please?” Wooyoung didn’t bother looking at you, finding his eyes trail back to the couple.

Meanwhile, you frowned in your place, taking a glance to where his eyes keep landing, realizing.

“Ah..” You just sigh, slowly nodding your head. “Batman,” You pout, looking at the screen in front of you instead of Wooyoung.

“What?” He finally lifts his head to meet your eyes, but you were too disappointed to look at him.

“Just.. Batman.” Letting your head down and handing him your card, you heave a sigh. 

He looks at you with a discerning eye, jotting down.. Batman on your cup.

“Here’s your card. We’ll call out.. Batman, if your order is done. Is it to-go?” He asks, trying to meet your eyes.

You just shake your head and give him a small smile, briefly meeting his eyes and then running to a table where your friends welcome you with an expecting smile.

“So! Did you have a little talk?” Yeonjun asks, making you seat beside him. “Of course, more than ordering,” Changbin adds, propping his elbows on the table to lean closer to you.

“Yeah.. That’s kind of it,” You mumbled, pursing your lips. “He didn’t even know my name.” You smiled at them, growing sadder every second.

Jung Wooyoung, a senior you have had a crush on for almost a year already, a part-time barista on your favorite cafe, and just him existing as one of the most adorable, handsome and kindest and softest– maybe you’ll just stop there, or you’ll take a whole day complimenting the man.

Apparently, you were going to try asking him out today if it weren’t for you going inside your shell once again at the disappointment of him not even knowing your name, nor recognizing you.

“You have eight classes together.. and you’re telling me, he doesn’t even recognize you?” Changbin scoffs, leaning back in his seat, and crosses his arms over his chest.

You just nod in defeat, feeling all your energy drain out of you. 

“Of course, he likes someone else,” You mumble, your eyes landing back to the couple three tables away from you, Yeonjun and Changbin’s eyes following it.

Both of them share a look, sighing.

“Sorry for that,” Yeonjun mumbles, hugging your side and caressing your arms.

“Batman!” Wooyoung’s voice rings in the room and everybody’s eyes travel around the room for who the fuck would give the name batman as Changbin and Yeonjun stifled a laugh.

You let your head down, walking your way to the counter to get your order with embarrassment sinking in.

“Thank you, enjoy.” Wooyoung simply says as he hands you the tray, letting you plod your way back to your table. Looking at your slouched back, Wooyoung intently watches you with a growing smile on his face, though unconsciously.

You run inside the cafe for the fifth time this week, now in a rush with your class starting in ten minutes.

“Hi, usual?” Wooyoung welcomes you, and you nod with a rushed smile to dig in your bag for your wallet. Wooyoung prepares your usual morning order– hazelnut latte.

It was one of those classes where Wooyoung wasn’t, so he helps out his parents at their cafe nearby to pass by his leisure time– well, not that he’s obligated to, but to see his crush, which is now Jongho’s partner.

“Uh, are you okay?” You stop his train of thoughts when you realized he was spacing while making your coffee, craning your neck.

“Oh, uh, sorry.” Wooyoung smiles, handing you your coffee as you pay. “Thank you, stay safe,” before you let Wooyoung’s words sink in, you had given him a smile before scurrying outside to run to your class.

“Where the hell were you?” Yeonjun pulls you inside in a rush, immediately taking the free seats at the back of the room.

“I slept late, I needed coffee.” You simply stated, sparing him a glance.

“Yeah, like, every day,” Yeonjun sarcastically remarks. “Just admit you want to see Wooyoung every day and go,” He chuckles, nudging you.

“Does that make a difference?” You glared at him, focusing on the professor who just entered the room and even had to pinch Yeonjun’s side to make him stop teasing.

“What’s your next class?” Yeonjun smirks, aware of his own question. 

“Lit,” You feigned innocence, shrugging and putting your stuff back on your bag. 

“Oh, the one with Wooyoung,” Yeonjun cooed, poking your sides. “Do you think he’ll finally recognize you?” 

“I have a class with him every day, Yeonjun. I also visit the cafe every day. I don’t think he will anytime soon, or actually, I just don’t think he will.” 

Yeonjun pouts at your negativity, pushing you lightly.

“Hey, what makes you think of that?”

“Well, I just realized his crush was in all of my classes too,” You smiled at him, “And he sits with them too, along with Jongho.” Your smile slowly drops, closing your locker. “you’re going to be late for your next class, Yeonjun.” You smile at him, patting his arm. He looks at you worriedly, making you chuckle. “I'm fine, Yeonjun. It happens every day. I'm already immune to pain,” You laugh out, finally leaving him first after a light hug.

You walk to your next class and as usual, you’re early which makes you sit at your unspoken place, the last row.

After writing your name on the attendance sheet, you have indulged yourself in reading your notes as the room gets crowded and crowded, but the seat next to yours wasn’t. It wasn’t anything new though, the room was big, and the last row was too far from the front. 

It wasn’t also because this was your least favorite class, not at all. But you really weren’t one to listen to your literature class, just jotting down the lessons to review for the exams.

You were about to flip a page of your notebook when a bag of cookies is placed atop of it, making you jump. You blinked continuously, whipping your head up to meet the man.

“Figured you haven’t had breakfast yet,” You just watch him drag the chair beside you, taking his seat comfortably. 

Jung Wooyoung – why the fuck are you sitting beside me?

You just stared at him dumbfounded, watching his every move.

“What?” he deadpans, staring at you. Your eyes darted around the room, looking for the couple he had always tailed with. “Who are you looking for?” His eyes follow you, landing on the couple. “Ah,” He simply breathes out, going back to tug at his notebook on his bag.

Your eyes glance back at him and back to the cookies, not knowing what to say.

“I– uh, am okay,” You push the bag of cookies back, though really tempting, but you weren’t close enough to accept it and ignoring the butterflies in your stomach.

“Eat. The prof won’t see you this far,” He didn’t bother looking at you and kept on bringing things out of his bag.

“It’s not that, I just.. Uhm,” You stutter, trying to find words to form a sentence. It’s not just an order of hazelnut latte you had always practiced before ordering, or maybe the confession you had practiced multiple times before, but something else, a conversation you wouldn’t expect in your life.

“Just take it,” Wooyoung senses your hesitance and finally looks at you with a smile. “It’s fine,” He nods at you, opening the bag for you.

You warily take a cookie, mumbling a thank you and leaning back to your seat.

“Batman,” He mumbles, giving you a light chuckle. “I never got your name.” that’s because your eyes were only on her. 

“y/n.” You smile anyway, offering him his own cookies. He softly rejects, making you eat more.

“Jung Wooyoung.” He smiles back, reaching for your hand.

“I knew that,” Before you even think of it, it spills out of your mouth naturally.

“Oh, you did?” He breaks out to a smug smile, making you chuckle. “How?” he dotes on you, raising his eyebrow.

“well, the thing is, I had a crush on you,” the thing is– now, you think you’re falling in love. 

Wooyoung, clearly taken aback, chuckles after a while of deafening silence even with the professor and your mates’ continuous chattering. 

“Which is, obviously, in the past.” You clear the tension right away, shifting on your seat and finally looking at the professor. 

Being your introverted self, you guessed that maybe, it was that conversation that would bring Wooyoung away– which is, what you were wishing for as you just embarrassed yourself.

But your honesty was what drew Wooyoung closer to you.

Day after day, it has become a routine for you to come to the cafe to order your usual, then Wooyoung practically begging you to wait for him, even if he still has no class right after.

“Hey, wait for me!” You stride faster out of the cafe, sighing. “You wouldn’t wait for your crush?” Wooyoung catches up with you, a coffee in his hand too.

you aren’t helping me stop my feelings, Wooyoung, really.

I don’t want to fall in love with someone in love with somebody else.

You thought as you squint your eyes at him, sighing for the nth time.

“It’s been a month I last told you that, Wooyoung. Please let go of that already,” You enter the gates of your university, glancing at your wristwatch.

You realize Wooyoung wasn’t beside you anymore so you look back, and you see him slowing down. You stop in your tracks, waiting for him with your arms crossed over your chest.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung doesn’t know what stroke him. Your words, merely careless words left your mouth gave a stinging sensation in his heart. Wooyoung doesn’t know either– but he doesn’t want to let go of the fact that you had a thing for him, even though it was in the past.

Not realizing the fact that you were waiting for him, a hand snakes around his shoulders cheerily and for a second, he gives the biggest smile and he almost lets the frown take over his face after, disappointed it wasn’t you.

“Why are you here? Where’s Jongho?” he asks, his eyes finding you, only to be disappointed more to see your retreating figure.

“Exactly. I'm waiting for him.” Jongho’s partner– Wooyoung’s friend, follows his eyes and gets excited. “Hmm, you like ‘em?” 

Wooyoung shrugs out of the hold, walking ahead to escape the continuous cooing from his friend.

“It’s morning, what’s with the long face?” Changbin welcomes you with a hug, dragging your chair for you.

“Was I frowning?” you shrug, taking your seat and focusing on taking your book out of the bag.

“What is it?” Changbin sighs, looking worriedly at you. You give in and told him what you just saw, feeling your heart slowly falter once again. “What? I thought something was finally there.” Changbin pouts, caressing your back.

“Well, it’s not just you.” 

Really, you thought a spark was finally forming between you, with Wooyoung’s continuous doting every day, it was only right for you to feel something like that.. right?

But the moment his face lit up when he saw his friend, obviously not moved on, your world crumbled along with your hope.

“Your next class?” Changbin asks, whipping his head to face you. You didn’t even pay attention the whole class, throwing your head back.

“Chem,” You state, slowly putting your things back into your bag. 

“That’s with Wooyoung, right?” Changbin pouts at you, thinking of what to do. “That’s okay, you’ll be with Yeonjun. If you want, just avoid Wooyoung,” 

And so you do.

Not heading right away to your chem room, you wait for Yeonjun outside his room. Praying to the gods for Wooyoung to be running a little late, you sat in the corner and dragged Yeonjun beside you.

“What’s wrong?” Yeonjun whispers, the chattering in the big room too loud for you to hear each other normally.

“Nothing, I'll.. tell you later.” You smile at him, seeing Wooyoung stop in his tracks on the doorsill in your peripheral vision.

Yeonjun nods and senses your so he continuously caresses your hair to calm you.

Wooyoung scoffs and takes the available seat two rows down, harshly taking his things off his bag. You just watch him with a frown, thinking of all possible things that happened to him that made him aggravated.

“Yeonjun,” You glanced at your friend, packing your things up. “It’s your break, right?” 

“Yep,” Yeonjun smiles at you, grabbing your bag which has become a habit between friends.

“My treat, let’s go eat some burgers,” You drag him by the arm, ignoring the daggers Wooyoung sent your way.

“Oh, not your usual coffee and cake now?” Yeonjun teases, swinging your bag and his bag over his shoulder and swings an arm over your shoulder.

“Do you not want some burgers cause you know I can just–” 

“Let’s go!” Yeonjun cuts you off and beamed, wriggling the both of you out of the university. “Changbin will burst if he hears about this.”

“Who says you’re the only one I'm treating? You’re not special, Yeonjun. I'm buying Changbin too,” You walk ahead of him, backward as you laughed at his disappointed face, getting a glance of a familiar silhouette far behind.

“Fuck him,” Yeonjun mutters after hearing you, taking a bite of his burger. “Don’t you think he lead you on too much?”

“He didn’t do anything wrong, Yeonjun. It’s all on me,” You sighed, setting your burger down. “In the first place, I said that it was all in the past when it wasn’t. He wanted to be friends, I let him.”

Yeonjun just stares at you, caressing your hand.

“It’s okay, y/n. You’ll find many others there, do you want me to find one for you?” Yeonjun puckers his lips jokingly, giving you a seducing look.

You break into laughter, pushing his face away.

Internally, you’re really, really thankful for your friends to have them by your side on your first heartbreak.

Well, you thank your friends– not for long.

They were both on the rap club, and battling for the nationals.. you were left alone.

Wooyoung wasn’t dumb. For the past week, he knew you were avoiding him, effectively making him annoyed for no reason.

No coffees ordered in the morning, no sitting beside each other, it was like you’re both back on square one, except that Wooyoung didn’t stick to the couple anymore.

Which, actually, he didn’t know why. Yes, he liked his closest friend’s partner– but they liked Jongho, which result in him being alone with them in two more classes, just realizing how he never noticed you when you got eight classes together.

“You’re off lately,” They nudge Wooyoung, who was in his own world. “You’re thinking about the one last week, no?”

“You blabber a lot,” Wooyoung pushed them aside, focusing on his notes while waiting for his first class in the school’s yard. “Go wait for Jongho somewhere else,” 

“They’re sleeping in class,” They give Wooyoung a sly smile, standing up and dusting off their pants. “I think they might need some coffee.” They wink, leaving Wooyoung with a leap.

Wooyoung delves in his own thoughts, sighing as he takes his things and walks to the cafe before his first class.

“Hey,” Your seatmate nudges you, waking you up from your nap. “Class is done,”

“Oh, thank you.” You smile at her, mumbling a small sorry before letting her leave.

If it weren’t for your brain overthinking overnight, you wouldn’t have to fight your sleep in your bio class. If it weren’t for your lazy ass not going to the grocery to buy yourself coffee beforehand, you wouldn’t have to think if traveling three miles away from your school to buy a coffee for yourself just because you’re avoiding Wooyoung.

You tiredly walk to your next class, plopping to your usual seat and putting your head down the desk while waiting for your professor.

“Hey,” you jump at the sudden cold, wet plastic attached to your neck briefly, glaring for a second at the man behind the action.

“Wooyoung,” You immediately back away ever so slight which goes noticed by Wooyoung.

“Figured you’d need one.” He mutters with a frown, putting your hazelnut latte beside you. “Sorry if I scared you,” And he went to find another seat available– even though the one next to yours was.

It continued for a few more days, and you were getting guiltier with every cup of coffee you got from him. Oh, you tried resisting his continuous and dedicated coffee deliveries that were free, but now– it was him avoiding you.

“Do you want us to be honest with you?” Changbin sighs through the phone, and you can hear Yeonjun practicing his rap in the background.

“I'd appreciate that.” 

“Just go talk to him. Not to return the coffee, no. Just a.. casual talk, maybe,” Changbin explains further on what you should do, but let’s be real– you’d eventually blank out once you’re in front of Wooyoung. 

So you just walk mindlessly to the cafe, praying for Wooyoung to still be there.

And to thank the gods later for answering your prayers.

“Hey.. uh,” You walk to the counter, your hands flying to your pockets. 

Wooyoung, surprised that you’re finally here right in front of his eyes after weeks, widens his eyes. his mouth keeps on opening and closing. Trying to form words but to no avail.

“I uh..” You stutter, biting your lip in nervousness. “Can I get my usual dine-in, please?” You warily smile at him, disappointed at yourself.

You’re here to talk to him, what the fuck are you doing.

“Sure. Grab a seat and I'll just.. take it to you.” He halfheartedly smiles, turning his back to you to get to business after handing you back your card and your receipt.

You aren’t sure why you’re feeling butterflies when you’re supposed to be entirely nervous. Was it because he’s going to bring you your order to talk to you? Actually, you don’t know yourself too.

And just right on time, Wooyoung brings you your order and you really, really expect him to take a seat in front of you to talk.

But to see him turning his back once again, your instincts got the best of you and you grab the hem of his shirt timidly, staring at him.

“What time are you free?” You blink at him, feeling your heart beating more than normal. “Can I talk to you?” Your grip on his shirt tightened, and Wooyoung just stared at it.

“I can’t. We can talk next time,” And before Wooyoung can process his own words, he was pushing your hand away to walk back to the counter, where a grumpy Yeosang stood and looked at him as if all the disappointment fell on Wooyoung.

“What the fuck?” Yeosang deadpanned, tailing Wooyoung with an indescribable, scrunched face. “You wait for them every morning of these past weeks, you rant to me about how she’s avoiding you, then you try making it up with a bunch of morning coffees– and now when she’s wanting to talk to you, we can talk next time?” Yeosang mocked, growing frustrated to the man who now has his back slouched.

Wooyoung simply sighed and continued wiping the almost invisible counter, glancing at the glass doors to see your reflection.

Sighing, you just sipped on your coffee, trying to grasp the situation while staring at your perfectly sliced cake.

At least he didn’t hide the fact that he wasn’t comfortable talking to you.

You look at the kid beside you who was also staring at your cake, the guardian in front of the kid too busy on their paperwork.

“Would you like some?” You offer the kid which earned you an earful of rejection from the guardian.

“It’s really okay, I lost my appetite and the kid’s been staring at it so.. Better than throwing it, right?” The guardian just thanks you, and you smile at the kid, seeing them finally enjoy the cake as you grab your things and coffee.

You stopped and looked at Wooyoung for a second, waiting for him to look back to at least bid you goodbye, but only his friend behind the counter smiles at you apologetically when Wooyoung  entered the kitchen.

You sighed and smiled back at Wooyoung’s friend, exiting the cafe with a heavy heart.

Unfortunately for Wooyoung, even with his cold shoulder, that didn’t stop you from going every day to try and talk to him in class, and on the cafe.

His continuous excuses of “I can’t,” “I have a group project to finish,” “Have an assignment to pass,” and, “I'm busy,” continue to push you away, but you weren’t getting a bit tired and somewhere near it.

So with the finals approaching, you tried your best, really, but when projects just came piling up and you can’t come to bother Wooyoung for three days straight, he was confused all over again.

Closing the cafe with a huff and the feeling of disappointment filling up his whole body of not seeing you, and confusion of your feelings, everything for Wooyoung was a blur.

Walking back home in the dark wasn’t something new, but the fact that his feet dragged him to the longer route to his house, made him more frustrated as he can’t turn back now that he’s closer to home than to the shorter route.

His eyes wandered around, a lot of 24/7 restos blinding him– well, not until the familiar burger place you had with Yeonjun pricked his curiosity and once again, let his feet take him there to peek.

His feet didn’t disappoint him. He, for a second, almost had a big smile on his face to see you, but not alone. That red hair fuck, as Wooyoung described Yeonjun, was with you.

“Laughing like the world was theirs,” Wooyoung scoffed as he kicked a small stone in sight, dragging his feet back home before he does something he’ll eventually regret. “I mean– what do you see in that man? His red hair is probably blinding you, y/n. Can’t you see I'm way more handsome than.. What was his name again? Yeonja? Yeontan? Right, Yeonjun.”

He enters his house more determined to push you away, not knowing that he was almost.. bursting. Almost hurting himself with himself. Bursting.. Fighting with his own.

So when tomorrow came, you had to thank Yeonjun for helping you clear out school tasks. What was wrong today was, Wooyoung shazam-ed out of your eyesight in a second among the grounds, as you just shrugged it away, thinking you could bother him after class anyways, in the cafe.

Plans.. ruined. Your professor had asked you for your help with some arrangements on an upcoming event, getting you sidetracked until night.

“Nine fucking pm, how great.” You sneakily glared at your prof, running to the cafe to see if Wooyoung was there since, just right on time, nine was their closing.

The gods just love you so much.

“Wooyoung!” You shout breathless, running to him.

Wooyoung just looks at you, still on your outfit just as he’d seen in the univ a while ago, raising his eyebrows.

“Sorry, prof Kim wanted me to help her–”

“We’re closed.” He cuts you off, taking the keys off the door and walking back home. Wooyoung wouldn’t ever think of you following him home, his eyes must be deceiving him when he sees you walk ahead of him, backward as you beamed at him with the brightest smile you could pull.

There wasn’t even a moon, nor a lamppost to flash on your features, but why did it feel like you’re the brightest form that is?

You just smiled at him while you walk backward, stopping too when he stopped in his tracks.

“Are you playing push and pull with me?” Wooyoung deadpans, and if it wasn’t for his serious tone and face, you would’ve cackled right in front of his face. So instead, you were stunned.

“W-what?”

“I asked if you’re playing push and pull with me,” He sighs out, growing tired of everything that has been occupying his mind. “You come to me, and when I.. try to make a move, the next thing I know you’re avoiding me.”

“What do you mean? I.. I'm here now!” You pout, growing defensive.

“And another thing I know after, you’re with that red-haired fuck, looking like lovers always about to kiss!”

“He’s just a friend!”

“Then! you’ll come to me after, begging me to come to talk to you for god knows what!” 

“It’s because you’re avoiding me!”

“That’s because you avoided me first! For that red-haired fuck!”

“Okay, what the fuck?” You gasp, “First of all, he’s just a friend. Secondly, if you’re talking about the last time you see me out with Yeonjun alone, it’s because he cheered me up when I saw you flirting with Jongho’s partner!” You didn’t even know why you’re explaining, in the middle of the night, in the middle of an empty street.

“Then why the hell were you still with him last night?!” Wooyoung retorts back and you groan in frustration, walking back and forth while harshly brushing your hair back.

“He helped me finish my works so that I can fucking see you now, asshole! If I didn’t get sidetracked by prof Kim, I would’ve annoyed the fuck out of you again and probably might’ve finally confessed that I still, never stopped, fucking liking you! Or god knows if I love you, even!” Your pent up frustrations finally pour out, making you breathless. 

You were positive it wasn’t the amount of coffee you had consumed for the past month just to bug him, nor the number of coffees he had given you in the morning amidst avoiding you that was making your heart beating more and more, faster than faster.

Wooyoung pulls you into a nearby alley, as if someone was still outside to hear your banter, staring right at your eyes as he pushes you to a wall to trap you in his arms.

Just the stare– it felt like you talked Wooyoung’s feelings. It felt like everything he overthought, was just as simple as he loves you.

So doing what he had always wanted to do, he cups your cheeks and looked at your eyes for consent, and it didn’t need words when you’re the one who leaned in, pulling him down further by the neck.

And just like that, everything fell into place, though weird that your first kiss was on an alley.

Breathless, Wooyoung broke the kiss with a smile on his face as he rested his forehead to yours, caressing your cheeks as he feels all burdening, heavy feelings he had suppressed in his chest melt away with your warmth that engulfed him.

“I love you too, y/n.” With the biggest smile on his face, and with a feeling that he had never felt before.

[anyoneseenadam]

could you maybe write cuddles with mor? there’s a serious lack in writing for her and i just read your exam work you wrote <3 (i loved it)

pairing: Mor x reader (acotar)

warnings: literally just fluff

a/n: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH LOVLIES!!!! if any of you are queer in any shape or form you are valid and i love you, mor would too <33

------------------------------------------------------------

“You’ve had her all day,” you whined, tugging on Mor’s arm as she smiled at you lovingly.

“That’s because she was my friend before she was your girlfriend,” Cassian replied in the same whiny voice, trying to tug Mor in his direction, “And we have actual work to do.”

“Do I look like I care?” you pulled a face at him, glaring from under your brows.

“You should,” he replied, flicking your nose.

“I will not hesitate to stab you bitch,” you gave a firmer tug as Mor wriggled her way free of Cassian, moving to pull you along as you stuck your tongue out at Cassian. He pulled another face at you, sticking up his middle finger as you were pulled away, laughing at him as you go.

You squeezed her hand as you fell into step beside her, your pace slowing as you walked home.

The walk was quiet, Mor tired after a long day and you simply content to walk silently by her side. The only sounds you could hear was the birds chirping and the distant chatter of people spending their evening in bars and on balconies. You could smell a barbeque in the distance and the setting sun cast goosebumps down your bare arms.

Summer was always your favourite season, the heat allowing you to spend all day outside, lying about or going on walks. You had even dragged Mor swimming earlier in the week, much to her protests. Although she contrasted you quite nicely in that sense, her favourite season being winter.

She was in love with the smell of spices and fires burning as the months grew colder, having more time spent inside with her family and of course she could never say no to the love of her life all bundled up in an oversized jumper and holding a hot drink while curled in front of the fire.

However now as she walked beside you and watched you breathe in the air, your sun-kissed skin glowing in the evening light. You look over when you feel her gaze on you, her eyes dark when you catch them and you giggle, leading her up to the front door of your apartment.

“What is it?” you ask, and she smiles at you in the way that fills your stomach with butterflies and heart with an abundance of joy.

“You look so pretty in this lighting,” she said softly, the sun casting you in tones of gold. Your skin was sparkling the gold jewellery you dressed in made you appear ethereal. All this paired with a white sundress and thick, leather sandals made her surer that she was in face dating an old god, one who had awoken from their long slumber to greet her.

She silently thanked whatever forces had brought you into her life when you laughed quietly, looking down in embarrassment at her words, before looking up from under darked eyelashes and smudged eyeshadow and reached to kiss her gently.

“Well you look pretty in every lighting, so I think I won on that front,” you joked when you pulled away and she rolled her eyes, pulling you into her arms before unlocking and pushing open the door.

Once inside you moved through to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of gin and two large glasses as she walked through. She smiled when you shook the glasses and went to grab the lemonade you had made earlier that week, using lemons from the tree that grew on your balcony. You made your drinks with her hugging you from behind, her chin tucked into the crook of your neck as she watched you carefully pour out measurements.

“Did you eat tonight?” you asked, turning in her arms, and passing her drink over.

She nodded, sipping, and humming appreciatively, “Did you?”

You nodded as well, nudging her nose with your own before steeping away and leading her to the table you had set up on your balcony. She sat down in a seat as you leant on the railing with one hand, using the other to remove your shoes, scrunching your nose up as she laughed at your struggle.

“Don’t be mean,” you joked, standing and moving to walk to your chair when she grabbed your waist and pulled you down onto her lap. You laughed at the change as she wound her arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your neck as you listened to the soft, jazzy music that was playing in the bar a few blocks over and watched the sun set over the horizon.

You mindlessly spoke about your days as you sipped at your drinks. You had turned in her lap at some point so now as you sat under the starry sky, your only source of light coming from the moon and the tall candles you had lit. You turned to look at her when you noticed she had been quiet for a while and found her watching you sleepily, her eyes flickering with the reflections of the flames dancing in them.

“Lets go to bed,” you whispered when you noticed the tired way she was moving. She didn’t reply, instead just taking the hand you offered her and shuffling through to your shared bedroom with you in tow. You both changed into your underwear, the air too hot for much more, and you moved to crack open the windows in your room.

When you turned back Mor had gone into the ensuite and you moved to follow her, the two of you getting ready for bed quietly as you went about your separate routines. When you finished she had already gone back through and you found her sitting up in bed with her arms outstretched to you, a sleepy but genuine smile resting on her beautiful face.

You crawled into bed next to her, lying with your head tucked between her breasts as she stroked a hand over your head. You were surrounded by her smell, the scent intoxicating and addicting and you let out a content sigh as she moved her hand from your hair to pull the cotton sheet over your bodies.

The cool fabric was a stark contrast to her warm body, yet you found yourself pushing closer into her, tangling your legs with hers and raising your arms so your hands could grab hers, interlinking your fingers. Mor kissed your head gently, her slowing breaths and heartbeat creating a melody that was lulling you to sleep slowly.

Your long day had left your body tired. Your arms were heavy and your eyes falling shut automatically, however now that you were actually laying down to get some much needed rest your brain wouldn’t quiet down. There was a random song playing in your head and while you were extremely comfortable in your lovers’ arms, you couldn’t get to sleep. It didn’t help that even with the open windows the room was suffocatingly hot, and Mor’s hot skin being pressed against you was only adding to that.

After about an hour of no sleep you rolled out of Mor’s embrace, standing and wandering to get yourself a glass of water, drinking it on your balcony as the cool air washed over your sweaty skin. You lifted your hair and sighed as the breeze moved over your neck, cooling you down considerably.

“Why did you leave?” you turned to see your girlfriend wrapped in the white sheet standing behind you. You smiled as she pouted at you adorably, her hair mused on top of her head, although she still looked as stunning as always.

“It’s too hot in there, sorry baby,” you apologised and she scrunched up her face before holding up a finger and turning, plodding back into you apartment as you watched her with a soft smile upon your face.

She returned holding about thirty pillows and deposited them at your feet. “We can just sleep outside then, because I am not giving up on cuddling.”

You laughed as she spoke, drawing her into you by her waist, “I’m glad we both have our priorities straight.”

“Nothing about us is straight,” she muttered and you laughed before pulling away to arrange the pillows she had brought out. When you had made an appropriate pillow fort Mor clapped her hands together, crawling under the blanket that had been drawn over the top to shelter you from the light in the morning.

You crawled in next to her and she grinned at you with childlike joy. “Big or little spoon?” she asked and you looked up as you pondered it.

“Little,” she smiled at you before moving to lie half on her back and half on her side, stretching out an arm for you. You lay next to her, her arms wrapping around your waist as your own hands came to clasp her hand, pulling it up to your heart.

She pressed her face in between your shoulder blades, kissing the skin in between them as you both burrowed down to sleep.

“I love you the most,” you whispered as you realised that she had just changed her entire sleep plan to better fit you. You felt her smile against your bare skin as her arm tightened around you.

“I love you more that that,” she replied and your laughed, squeezing her hand, making her yelp slightly.

“Well I love you more that that,” this time she jabbed you beneath the ribs, knowing how ticklish you are there, smiling as you cried out, wriggling away from her as she laughed.

She relented her tickling hands to pull you back, wanting you as close as physically possible. You allowed her to pull you close again and she sighed into your skin as she breathed you in.

“Goodnight, my love.” She whispered the words into your skin, hoping that saying them directly into you would seal them in. Make them permanent.

Little did she now that her love for you was already permanent, and that yours for her was equally as permanent. You knew what she was thinking when she spoke but half asleep you simply replied, “Goodnight darling, I love you.” Finally drifting to some much needed sleep as the breeze cooled your joined skin.

[bubble-tea-bunny]

come fly with me

[hermes x reader]

author’s note: every time i see his name i pronounce it like the brand out of  habit even if there’s no accent grave lol

word count: 2,572

You sense the bright light of morning through your closed lids and it prompts you to wake. But even as your eyes slide open, you still feel as though you’re dreaming.

A man is kneeling down next to you. You don’t know who he is but perceive he means no harm, for his gaze as he observes you is concerned, no doubt wondering what you’re doing out here. You don’t remember falling asleep outside, but the weather has been so nice as of late, you wouldn’t put it past yourself to have drifted off after laying beneath the stars, simply appreciating their magnificence.

As your vision comes more into focus, and the blurred edges merge into finer lines, you note that the sun shines behind this stranger’s head, and it appears remarkably like a halo. Your focus slides lower, drifts over brown hair pulled back into a neat braid to avoid obscuring his face, the highlight of which are his eyes—brilliantly blue, like crystals, and putting the backdrop behind him to shame. He’s beautiful.

Suddenly you’re nervous to be the center of his attention, so rapt it’s like he can see right through you. You must look a disheveled mess in contrast, your own hair tousled, your eyes bleary with the last bits of sleep. But as if he can hear your thoughts, he smiles gently, a gesture to put you at ease.

“Hello,” he greets you. His voice is hushed, taking care not to disturb the peace of these early hours, and it’s warm, washing over your skin and fighting away the chill of the cool evening.

You open your mouth, poised to speak, but at first nothing comes out, though from nervousness or from the fact your vocal chords are still waking up after hours of not being used, you don’t know.

“I… I must have fallen asleep out here,” you state rather dumbly, because what else could it have been? It’s not as if anyone had carried you out here in the middle of the night. Your cheeks redden from embarrassment but the man’s smile widens, amused and—if you aren’t imagining things, owed to the idea that maybe you really are dreaming—charmed. Though for what reason, you haven’t the slightest clue.  You struggle to call yourself a picture of grace at any other point in a day, least of all fresh from sleep.

“It seems you have,” he responds. “I imagine it was comfortable?”

Not wanting to continue this conversation while still laying down, since it’s a little awkward, you sit up, and he backs away slightly to give you space. The notion of sleeping on the ground certainly doesn’t sound comfortable, and so you assume he asks this in light jest, but oddly enough, you don’t feel any stiffness or aches. Your body is relaxed, pliant. You feel well-rested.

“It was, yes…” you trail off, absentmindedly pondering on this anomaly.

The man nods, satisfied with your answer, and stands. You have to crane your neck to look at him, and as he turns his head to look out at the rolling hills, lush green and divided in the middle by a dirt path, you see a string around his neck which is attached to a golden helmet. The brim swoops and lifts in the back, colored silver to resemble a pair of wings.

Then he turns to you again, now offering you his hand. “Well the day is too nice to waste staying here. Would you like to take a walk with me?”

You’ve been aware this entire time that you don’t know who he is, and logic would dictate you turn down his invitation. No matter how nice he may be, it would be unreasonable as well as  unsafe. But even for all that, you find yourself not tied down by any semblance of reason, and perhaps it’s against your better judgment that you accept.

You take his hand and he pulls you up easily. Maybe it’s his smile that does well to quell any apprehension, for you think you would follow him anywhere. Maybe you were incorrect and to go with him now was the better judgment on your part, because you don’t feel that this is wrong or dangerous. And he’s right: the day is splendid and it would make no sense to stay on the ground alone. It’s better enjoyed with companions.

The two of you follow the trail for a while, pausing whenever small creatures cross from one side to the other: mostly bunnies and deer, but at one point when passing by a lake there’s a duck and her ducklings plodding single-file behind her. As the world around you wakes and you walk in comfortable silence, your anxiety melts away and you instigate a conversation.

“Were you just passing by and happened to see me?” you inquire.

The man glances down at you briefly before looking ahead once more. “I was.” He nods. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He’s sincere as he says it, and it makes you grin. “Well I’m glad it was you who found me.”

The smile on his lips mirrors yours. “I am too.”

Flowers line the path, leaning inward as if to welcome any who walk past. They grab your attention, and you skip ahead to pick some of them. They only require a gentle tug for the stems to snap and you gather them until you’re holding a small bunch of the white flower in one hand. You bring them closer to your face so you can smell them: the scent is subtle and fresh, like the air after it rains. The man finally catches up to you and you twist around. There’s that expression in his eyes again, one of amusement, and again you blush, attempting to hide it by the flowers as you duck your head, but you don’t think you’re successful.

He peers over your shoulder. “Let’s go this way now. There’s bound to be more flowers in that direction.”

You turn and follow his line of sight. The trail has led to a forest, and veering off here would lead you into the thick of it. The man takes the last few steps to close the distance and stand next to you, and you look up at him. “Okay.”

Sunlight pierces the gaps in the foliage, the rays which light the ground soothing to behold and to walk through. It’s like a painting, calm and peaceful, displayed on the finest marble and you’re honored to be in the midst of it, maybe not as the subject, for you think the birds who cast shadows as they soar above you are more worthy of the privilege, but you’re content to be there at all, even just off to the side.

The woods lead to a meadow and the man was correct: there are more flowers here. Their colors vary, from white to lavender to yellow, and the sun envelopes them all in its heat, unhindered in this clearing. The tall grass shifts with your every footstep and brushes your calves, light as a feather, and you giggle. It tickles.

Your eyes rove over the expanse before you. There are more trees, another portion of forest,  on the other side, but this place is so peaceful, and the sun is in the perfect position, centered in the sky, that you would hate to leave so soon.

“I’d like to lay among these flowers…” you murmur. It’s an aside you mean to mutter only to yourself, but given your proximity to the stranger—no, not a stranger anymore, but more of a friend—he hears you fine despite the low volume with which you said it.

“Why don’t we?”

At this, you blink and glance up at him. He’s already watching you with a twinkle in his gaze and he’s smiling. You can’t help smiling too and you feel so warm to be in his presence.

So in the middle of the clearing you find a suitable spot and settle down, lying on your back with the bunch of white flowers still clutched in one hand. You have to squint and use your free hand to shield your eyes from the glare of the sun, but then you close them and the furrow of your brow relaxes, and you can fully enjoy the nature which surrounds you.

Dragonflies buzz and you can hear them flittering along, the beating of their wings louder as they approach, then becoming quieter as they pass. The grass shifts as your friend comes to join you now. He sits, and you hear a brief shuffling before he follows suit and lays down. Together you bask in the sunlight, but for how long, you aren’t sure. Not that you’re interested in tracking the time.

“Your suggestion to tarry a while was a good one,” he compliments, breaking the silence. “It feels pleasant to rest here.”

His compliment makes you grin and your eyes open. You turn your head to look at him. He’d removed his helmet from where it was hanging around his neck and placed it next to him to allow him to lie back comfortably. “The sun makes you feel so refreshed, doesn’t it?”

He hums. “I think it has more to do with the company.” He opens his eyes and also turns to look at you, and the blueness of them is incredibly soft. Your smile grows.

And though you’re confident you could pass the rest of the day in that meadow, the two of you move on. It’s done with a bit of reluctance on your part, but it fades quickly because you agree with him: it’s the company which makes you feel refreshed. The colors of the sky are shifting as mid-afternoon turns into early evening and it occurs to you that you have been walking since the morning yet you aren’t tired, nor has it felt like many hours have transpired. You know it has to do with him. You think you could do this forever, walking with him.

When the sky is a blend of indigo and orange, you ask if anyone is expecting him. We’ve been together all day, you explain. No one might wonder where you are?

He chuckles. “That’s kind of you to be concerned.”

Your cheeks feel warm. He’s awfully good at getting that reaction out of you.

“No one’s expecting me,” he continues. “But even if someone were, they’d understand my lateness, given I’m with someone so sweet. I’m not keen to part ways too soon.”

Your chest feels tight, like your heart is wrenching and you’re scared it might break. “Me neither,” you state shyly.

Then gradually the indigos and oranges transition to black as the sun fully disappears below  the horizon and you are sad to see it leave. You’ve also long since left the meadow and the forest surrounding it behind. The land you walk through is wide, flat, empty. There aren’t any plants or animals and it feels foreign, adjusted as you had been to the lush scenery of this afternoon. The only feature worth noting are the mountains that come into view now, which, while you’d already assumed them to be tall, are taller than you first thought as you get closer, so high they seem to touch the clouds, perhaps even extending past them.

“This way.” The man’s voice pulls your attention away from staring up at the clouds. There’s a path that leads farther into the mountain. “Watch your step. It’s rather dark.”

What light of the moon reaches through small gaps in the mountain reflects off the helmet strung around his neck. He takes care to move slowly to ensure you don’t lose him but the glint of his helmet serves as a beacon. The more you venture in, you wonder where you’re going. Should you ask him? The idea of doing so hadn’t crossed your mind all day because you’d been happy just to be with him, no apprehension about the destination, or whether or not  there was one. But now…

The words are on the tip of your tongue, about to be voiced, but they die out once you turn a final corner and spot a river. The water is dark, almost black, and a haze settles above it that obscures what might possibly be on the opposite shore. Once you do speak, it’s still a question, but it’s no longer about where the two of you are headed. He doesn’t need to tell you that.

“Wanted to let me down gently, didn’t you?” The manner in which you ask this is quiet, lightly teasing but also laced with a sadness you do little to hide.

Hermes—for now you know confidently who he is—leads you right to the edge of the water and then stops, twisting around. “I chose to take the longer route with you.”

You meet his gaze. His eyes are sorrowful, yet for their melancholy they are still just as beautiful, and they’re tender as he looks at you. “Why?”

He takes a deep breath, momentarily glancing at the water then returning his focus to you. “You hadn’t realized what happened, and I didn’t want to tell you. I decided we would venture through the nature you love so much, taking breaks where you desired, to listen to the bugs and to feel the sun.”

Thinking back to this morning, you recall that when you’d woken up, you hadn’t checked behind you. If you had, you would’ve noticed your body there. You’d been too enamored by Hermes to do that. Though you suppose there are worse ways of being led to the Underworld, and you’d always be grateful to Hermes for choosing to take the long way.

“Through it I’ve grown very fond of you,” he confesses. He offers a small smile, and you surmise it’s a struggle, at odds with a frown because of where he has brought you, and what it implies. “A day with you was a lifetime, and it still didn’t feel long enough.”

You muster a smile of your own. “One day or an eternity, I don’t suppose any length of time ever would.”

A boat comes into view, appearing to materialize through the fog, and once it stops at the small dock, the front bumping gently and the water lapping against the support beams, Hermes gives the ferryman two coins. Treat her well, he instructs. And then he turns to you a final time, and when your heart squeezes, you really think it has broken.

Glancing down, your eyes settle on the flowers you’re gripping. You’d kept them with you the entire journey. But now you hold them out to Hermes, and the heaviness in your chest seems to lighten slightly as he takes them and the expression on his face becomes a little less crestfallen. You would hate to leave him in such a forlorn state.

“Thank you, Hermes.” You hope he can detect the sincerity, and when he smiles faintly, you know that he has.

He helps you onto the boat, clasping your much smaller hand in his to provide support, and he stands on the shore as the ferryman pushes away, watching you until the fog engulfs the boat once more. And though he’s alone, the flowers in his hand make him feel far from lonely.

[yukyunotabibito]

A strange commission has arrived at the Officers Academy: The Duke of a lesser house in Adrestia has recently unearthed a family heirloom believed to have disappeared along with his great-grandfather shortly before their family fell into disgrace, and he desires a handful of “Reason-gifted individuals” to assist him. Although the details were vague, you accept the commission nonetheless and arrive at his home where he welcomes you cordially. You notice that he is much younger than you anticipated, and quite beautiful. The family heirloom, he explains to you, is some sort of alchemical recipe for a potion that can transform one’s visage into the epitome of beauty. Well, that explains his appearance. He wants your help adjusting and testing its recipe, while he devises a way to market it to the masses. However, that night as you’re returning to your room, you catch sight of the Duke’s shadow from his room, writhing in pain. You glimpse the twisted figure of a monster before the door slams shut and glass shatters behind it. Yet, by morning, everything appears normal again, the Duke included. Will you stay to uncover the mystery? Or will you find a way to get out of the commission you volunteered for?

Nasir could have even be blamed for wandering around in the dark of the night before. If the Duke did not want them to wander, then perhaps he should have shut and locked all of the doors within the manor and barred them from entry. Sharp grey eyes had scanned every corner as quiet feet plod gently against the floor on the way back to their quarters.

And then, in the dark, a shadow had erupted against the wall of a nearby room, heaving against the light. There had been a door slamming, and the sound of glass.

Then...

Nothing.

"And that's when I decided it was best not to pry, for your sake, Lord Gévaudan. I am a man who greatly values my own privacy, and as such, the privacy of others. You seem to not be injured in any fashion, so I think it is best that we leave." Nasir casts a glance at their companion, an upbeat girl who was a friend of Kurthnaga's. Though... they had a feeling that she was going to much less willing to leave than they were.

"No, no, please stay. I insist. There is not need for you to go just because you saw something a little strange at such a late time. It must have just been a trick of the light! Please I need you to stay!" Duke Gévaudan seemed desperate for them to stay, too desperate in fact.

Nasir did not like where this was going, "And I beg of you to allow us to leave. I get the feeling we are only going to end up seeing things that you do not wish us to see if we stay any longer. I would like to let you have the entitlement of keeping some of your secrets, my lord."

There was something suspicious going on here, and Nasir was privy enough to dark secrets that a bad feeling started to bubble up in their chest. They tug the young girl closer to them, so they are able to whisper in her ear. Just barely loud enough for her to hear, but certainly not the duke. How odd though... to be on the recieving end of - what seemed to be - a scheme for once.

"You will listen to whatever I tell you to do, alright? That man is hiding something dangerous, and I don't know what, but we cannot stay here. We may both meet our ends if we do."

@aglaean

If The Duke Wants to Transform Into a Monster, I Think That's His Business

Recovery | The Duke's Comission

[21burritoseavey]

Going Public (d.s.)

a/n: Hey! I'm sorry this took so long, but here you go, really hope you enjoy this! also i guess you could say secret relationship is pt.1, hollywood fix is pt.2 and this is pt.3 but you can read them on their own:) sorry if this is a little unedited! and...bad lol

Summary: Daniel and Y/n have a little movie night and do the TikTok trend of “I hate all me, but when he loves me I feel like...” and post it, confirming their relationship.

Y/n always stayed over at Daniel’s place at the end of the school week. After her shift at work, she’d head over to his house so they could spend the evening together. Sometimes when Christian wasn’t around or Daniel was home alone, she’d just let herself in and greet Kobe as he ran towards the front door, and she’d see Daniel in the studio or in his bedroom. They’d cuddle under the blankets and have the TV on in the background, gentle chatter flowing between them. Those nights were easily Y/n’s favourite part of the week. 

 One Friday night, Y/n had plodded to the front door. Her muddy footsteps followed her to the welcome mat, testament to the slight chill and light autumn drizzle outside. She wiped the souls of her boots against the grimy, brown strings with her hand gripped onto the door handle and was surprised to see the house strangely clean and empty when the door squealed open. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have thought no one was home, but Daniel’s text fifteen minutes earlier told her otherwise. I mean, even the gentle pitter patter of Kobe’s paws didn’t fill her ears when she kicked off her shoes. 

 “Daniel,” She called softly, brushing her fingers against the marble countertop. Y/n walked over to the kitchen cabinets and started rummaging around for a snack. Her movements were comfortable and unashamed, the sight of her had the corners of Daniel’s lips instantly turning upwards into a smile. He had emerged from his bedroom silently, having just gotten off a phone call with his manager, Randy. 

 His footsteps creaking along the floorboards had Y/n snapping her head to the sound and she jumped back in fear as she saw him. “Oh God,” She breathed, pressing a hand to her heart in momentary embarrassment. The packet of chips in the cabinet toppled over the edge and Y/n spun back around. “Okay, this house is haunted or something.” She laughed. Daniel chuckled quietly and walked over to the counter. One mug of hot chocolate sat on the tabletop, steaming, and swirling with a sweet aroma. “Oh, is that for me?” She asked Daniel, walking towards him to drape her arms across his waist and give him a hug. 

 He let a gentle laugh fall from his lips. “No, it’s for Kobe over there,” he joked, looking over Y/n to gaze at the small puppy curled up on the blanketed sectional sofa. Y/n looked over her shoulder to follow gaze, noticing more than just Kobe in the corner. The living room was illuminated with warm light by two small lamps on opposite sides of the couch. Blankets and pillows were brought in from Daniel’s bedroom to scatter throughout the little space and a bowl of caramel popcorn - Y/n’s favourite - sat amongst a plethora of snacks. 

 Y/n walked towards the couch, letting out a quiet, “what’s all this for?” before she faced Daniel again. 

 He shrugged. “I don’t know, I just thought it would be nice since it’s cold and rainy tonight.” He set the hot cup of hot chocolate on the coffee table.

 “Well, thank you, Daniel.” Y/n tugged a corner of her lips into a shy smirk and padded towards him. Daniel willingly wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed his body against hers, the feeling of her sinking into his soothing embrace had smeared a smile onto his face. 

 “Do you want to pick the movie?” He asked, his whisper muffled by her hair. 

 “Yeah,” Y/n stepped back gently and looked across the room to the TV remote. 

 Daniel chuckled, “m’kay, but if you spend twenty hours trying to pick a movie…” He trailed off, picking up the TV remote with a raised eyebrow. 

 “Okay, that was one time.” She defended, snatching it from him.

----

“What’s with the photo?” She smiled towards the camera behind a sip of her drink. The movie Y/n chose was Pride and Prejudice, and she was proud to tell Daniel it only took her five minutes to pick it out. Ribbons of yellowy light shone over their faces as they slumped back on the couch, blankets wrapped around them, and a bowl of popcorn shared between them in the middle. 

“Just ‘because I love you,” Daniel uttered, biting his upturned lips. He dropped his phone to his lap. 

“Y’ sure” 

“Okay, I have to tell you something,” He beamed, eyes ablaze with zest and heart beating with excitement. He set her face in his palms and kept his calm smile, he watched her eyes lit up at his statement. Y/n drew back his hands and dropped them to her lap with his fingers entwined with hers. She shuffled to devote her attention to him completely. 

“What is it?” 

Daniel giggled and leaned in for another kiss. “Something...” He glanced everywhere but her, knowing well that he said something that would absolutely drive her crazy. 

“Stop being so mysterious,” Y/n huffed, dropping his hand to cross her arms.

“Okay fine,” He chuckled breathily. “I think we should tell my fans we're in a relationship.” He said, shifting his gaze to rest on Y/n while she processed the news. 

“Yo-you mean like-” Y/n gaped, “like really tell them. Like say: we are in a relationship?”

Daniel nodded swiftly. “Yeah,”

“How should we tell them?” Y/n asked, reaching across the couch to retrieve her phone. Kobe shifted sleepily in her lap and stretched his paws, tickling her arms and she giggled at the feeling. “Kobers, Dani’s fans are going to know about me.” She cooed, scratching his soft stomach lightly. 

“I was thinking I could just post a-” “Oh! Oh! Oh! Should we make a TikTok?!” She exclaimed, answering her own question before he could even comprehend her sudden excitement. “Yes! We really should make a TikTok!”  Her fingers led her to her TikTok app, and she scrolled through sounds to find out what video they should make. Random sounds filled the quiet space every once and a while as she sampled the audio. She wanted it to be perfect. The most perfect announcement video there ever was, and since the young couple had thought about this moment for a long time, Y/n already had a few ideas brewing in her mind. “Look Daniel, this one’s cute, right?” She said through a wide smile, facing the dimly lit screen towards him. A little montage of another couple came into view as Daniel glanced up from his own phone. 

“Yeah, that’s cute.” He shrugged, plopping a fistful of popcorn into his mouth. 

“We have to be that cute.” Y/n spoke, “You have to be that cute,” She bit back her smile, watching Daniel’s head whip towards her in fake offence out of the corner of her eye. 

“Hey! I’m always cute!” ----

By the time Daniel and Y/n had finally finished filming their TikTok, the natural light outside had diminished completely, leaving the dark sky aglow with mere city lights in the distance. Daniel lifted himself off the couch towards the doors and windows to draw the blinds. Y/n watched him tiredly from the couch, eyes drifting to his ocean blue eyes and brunette hair dusted with blonde and-

“What are you thinking about, baby?” Daniel asked through the quiet room, kneeled beside her on the floor. He leaned back on the edge of the couch and rested his head on her lap. Y/n giggled, watching his eyes drift to the ceiling before meeting hers. She leaned in and giggled onto his lips before they shared a quick kiss. Daniel groaned tiredly as he lifted himself up onto the couch again, hands habitually falling into Y/n’s and head resting on her shoulder as he gazed at the blank screen. The movie had been abandoned ever since Y/n had the idea of making a TikTok - paused on a sweet scene of two lovers together, just like the young couple on the couch in real life.

 “Are you sure you want to do this, Daniel.” Y/n asked again, glimpsing up from her phone to really see if, he was sure. The TikTok remained in the drafts of Daniel’s individual account. 

“A hundred percent, Y/n”

“I’m scared about what they’re going to say.” She frowned. 

“Don’t even worry about it,” He consoled her. 

“Okay,” She gave a half smile, although the slight fear lingered in her voice. 

“Let’s just watch our movie and check it out later,” Daniel pressed the post button, sending Y/n into a fit of nervous giggles at how easy it was for him. Her eyes lingered on the video for a few long seconds, but Daniel whisked gaze away from the screen to meet him. Endearing and relaxed. He leaned in and bumped their noses lightly before letting their lips meet for a soft kiss. Y/n pulled him closer, tugging the blanket draped across his back higher up so it could envelop them both. Daniel’s giggles pulled them out of their lingering kisses and pressed one strong kiss to her lips again before continuing the movie. For a while, it was just them, together. In Daniel’s living room. Lights off. Lamps on and a movie playing quietly across from them. And for the first time in a long time, Y/n didn’t let the external opinions of everyone else get to her.

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