#howl writes a tutorial

[howlingmoonrise]

Guide to backing up AO3 fics on the Wayback Machine

okay so on the interest of being able to link back to this instead of having to type it all over again the next time a friend asks:

yes, you CAN back up fic (and other websites in general) to the wayback machine, you don't have to be a specific profession or a member of the internet archive or anything

you can do this without an account, but you have extra options when you're saving a website using an internet archive account (saving ALL outlinks from that page, which is a huge time-saver; saving it to your web archive, which is useful when you want to look up the stuff you saved; etc). making an account is free.

specific things need to be taken into consideration when saving, such as whether a webpage requires login in order to enter. the wayback machine only saves a page exactly as it would show up to you if you were to open it on an anonymous tab right now with no extras installed (logged out, no saved cookies, stuff unclicked, etc) so you need to take this into consideration when saving stuff

why does this matter? because when it comes to ao3 fic, specifically, this poses some issues. at the risk of this post being nearly exclusively lists and bullet-points:

login-locked fics can't be saved to the web archive like this (please download them through ao3 itself if you'd like to save them as they are)

fics rated as explicit, mature, or not rated don't get saved properly if you use the normal fic link. they only get saved as the page where you confirm that you're willing to proceed unless you add this confirmation to the link you're saving (more on this below)

fics with more than one chapter don't get saved properly if you use the normal fic link. i see this happen a LOT with people who think they saved stuff but then only the first chapter was actually backed up. you also need to add a parameter to consider this to the link you're saving (more on this below). no, using the save all outlinks option won't help you here as the links to the next chapters aren't all indexed.

saving outlinks won't work if the fics listed in the page are explicit or multichapter, because you'll run into the same issues as in points 2 and 3. using the "save outlinks" option works when you're dealing with the page for a series where all the works are gen/teen oneshots. maybe twoshots, since ao3 now links to the latest chapter on the chapter count, but i haven't tested this yet.

--

step-by-step guide to how to back up fic and deal with the pesky multichapter/rating issues below the cut:

1. get the fic link

you want the one that is formatted like below, with only the work ID listed in the link

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007075

you can get this straight-up on oneshots, or right-click+"copy link" on the fic name when the fic is listed on an ao3 page (such as in the pages for bookmarks, series, or just in the plain fandom/ship tag). alternatively, if the link you have has anything else on it, such as:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007075/chapters/49717460

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007075/bookmarks?page=7

you can just remove everything after the work ID so that the format is the same as in the first example.

2. edit the link

if the fic is a gen/teen oneshot, you can just leave the link as it is

if the fic is explicit/mature/not rated, add ?view_adult=true to the end of the link

if the fic is a multichapter, add ?view_full_work=true to the end of the link

if the fic is explicit/mature/not rated and a multichapter, add ?view_adult=true&view_full_work=true to the end of the link

you can just use the last one for any fics and it'll work! it's just more difficult to find on the wayback machine if you only have the original link to work with, so i try to keep it to the simplest version possible.

as an example, you'll end up with something like this for the last case:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007075?view_adult=true&view_full_work=true

the edited link you end up with is the one you'll use from now on in this tutorial!

3. check whether the link has already been saved on the web archive (optional)

if the fic was saved, say, yesterday, or the writer has vanished from the interwebz since like 2003, and everything looks to be in order, there's little point in saving it again unless there were major changes since (and PLEASE check if the only save wasn't just an error page instead of the page itself, sometimes this happens and it's heartbreaking when you only notice after the page is gone.)

you can check this by going to the main page of the web archive, entering the link, and then checking on the timeline for how many lines there are in it (if there are no saves at all, they will ask you if you want to save the page). for the fic we're using as an example, someone appears to have saved it in 2021. click on that line, and then on the calendar below (where there'll presumably be either a blue or a green bubble around the date in which someone tried to back it up. other colours are no bueno):

green bubbles/links indicate a redirect. this is not particularly worrying by itself: it happens, for example, when the link is being redirected from the work ID-only format to the ID/chapters/chapter-ID format. but it can also be a redirect to a warning, for example. click on one of those timestamps and check whether the fic shows up as you expect it to. (once you have the page for a snapshot, you can just paste your next links in there to check if they exist instead of doing this all over again.)

for example, in the case of this particular fic, only the third chapter appears to have been saved. weird! you definitely don't want the only back-up of it to be this one, so it's time to move on to the next step.

4. save the fic!!!!

go to the wayback machine save page. paste the link. if you have an account and want to keep the saved website at hand, check the "save in my web archive" option.

whether you want to save error pages (for example, in case ao3 is having server issues, or for archival/historical reasons) or not is up to you, but i prefer to uncheck the box because it's usually more visible if there was an issue. below is the page of a 404 page i tried to save with the box unchecked:

and here is an attempt for another 404 page with the box checked:

the second example saved the error page only, and can mislead you into thinking that the fic was properly archived when it was, in fact, not.

DO NOT CLOSE THE PAGE UNTIL THE ARCHIVING IS DONE OR UNLESS THEY TELL YOU YOU CAN! this latter case usually happens when there's a lot of strain in the archive and the back-ups are happening with some delay, but in general you want to keep the page open so you can see the status of your save.

YES, it's slow as fuck, you're just gonna have to deal with it. i usually have 3-4 pages open when i'm working on saving several fics at a time. be patient. do other stuff meanwhile. i usually do this at the same time i'm updating my bookmarks with the fic title/author/summary/link in case the fic gets deleted and i have no clue which one it was anymore, so i have a pretty steady "copy link->edit link->save fic->update bookmark for that fic->repeat" workflow going on.

5. save the link you used!

bestie. i'm pleading with you. save the fic link somewhere. any! fic link! for that fic! even the original will do! any link that you can reverse-engineer into the one you want! because good fucking luck finding the save you did when you no longer know how to get there, even if you save it on your own web archive (i have a couple thousand websites saved on mine so it's like finding a needle in a haystack).

the web archive does not neatly save the page name so that you can search it easily, so you ABSOLUTELY need the link for the fic or you're likely done for💀

you have a couple options here! place the link in your ao3 bookmark directly, if you have the fic saved on there. if you're the kind of person who bookmarks directly on their browser, go for it, i guess? (but keep a backup of your bookmarks somewhere). create an excel with the fic data in a column or two and their corresponding links on the following one. it's up to you! just save it somewhere.

preferably, save a downloaded copy of the fics you love, too, instead of solely relying on the web archive, but that's a lecture for another day.

6. bonus round: saving series!

also adaptable for saving works by a specific author - the essence of it is that you want every page you'd need to navigate to in order to reach the rest of the works. for an author, this would likely be their main page -> their works page (or their [works in specific fandom] page) -> every page within that -> the works within each page.

this is where the outlinks are your best friend.

get the series link (the format is something like https://archiveofourown.org/series/2930166).

open the save page on the web archive.

if the works are all mature/explicit/not rated and/or contain more than two chapter each, don't bother checking "save outlinks". if the series has a large amount of gen/teen works and they're only oneshots and twoshots, check "save outlinks". you'll save time doing this instead of backing each of them up individually, but please verify that the second chapters of the twoshots have indeed been saved.

save the series page. save also the link to the series page: from this one you can then navigate to the works you save within it.

now individually save each of the works within that series that you want to keep (and that you haven't covered in point 6.3) by using points 1-4 of the larger fic-centric tutorial.

i hope this helps!

[princesscure]

Josh Washington ♡ Marlboros

contains: unfinished work, basically a tutorial on how to smoke a cigarette, character x gn reader, slightly suggestive comments, possibly bad cringy writing!! pleaaaase be generous with me with this, i haven't written something like this since i was like 10 writing eddsworld fanfiction on wattpad so im VERY much a noob at this sob - tips/criticism are very much appreciated as long as ur nice about it!! im sensitive ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

the scent of marlboro's lingered in the windy chill of the air, mixed with the reminiscent scent of the husky, woodsy cologne of the man stood besides you as you two both leaning against the rail of the balcony outside. you basked in the soft breeze nipping at your nose, letting yourself relax in the comforting scent from Josh. sucking in a deep, slow breath, you turned your head slightly askew to his direction, you watch as he let out another puff of smoke, watching as it disappeared into the midnight sky. you can't say you were very keen of the acrid smell that arose from those tobacco-filled sticks, but any negative connotation about the unpleasant, poignant smell and how it lingered far too long for your liking on your clothes suddenly vanished from mid-air when it came from Josh. but of course, you'd never admit it, especially to Josh, knowing he'd use it against you any chance he'd get. instead putting up a facade of disgust as he puffs the smoke playfully in your face, following up with a teasing remark of,

"y'know smoking those things'll bite you in the ass one day, right?"

which earns you a soft huff of amusement from him, that familiar damn smirk etched upon his face as he looked on ahead at the scenery in front of him as he hummed in response,

"well, good thing i don't mind a little biting."

his gaze meets yours once more in the corner of his eye, a playful wink following after that really doesn't help much with the warmth in your chest that's already grown familiar, but you play off the growing warmth of your face behind the alibi of the bitter cold wind against your face. instead giving him a scoff with a small tug of a smile on your face, your eyes rolling in faux annoyance. but his gaze doesn't differ from your eyes even as they pull away from his emerald ones, admiration evident on his face as his eyes rake over the curves of your features, the slope of your nose, and the slight furrowing of your eyebrows. a small moment of silence, minus the soft howls of the night wind, lingers between you two before your eyes pull back to his, catching what you could swear was his eyes glancing at your lips before his gaze meets yours once more, the look burrowed in those forest greens a sight you haven't yet seen before.

describing it as a look similar to one from those cheesy rom-com movies you had put on to mess with him for movie night doesn't describe it well enough, there's something much more vulnerable about it, something with more heart into it than any actor could muster. and for a second, a thought crosses your mind of returning that vulnerability, grabbing your beating heart from inside your chest cavity and finally giving it to him like you've wanted ever since those feelings first began to bubble since you two were young, but then another thought crosses your mind. an image of discomfort skewed on his face, a mistake of taking his actions, whether it was those lingering glances or the way he always finds his way right next to you, for anything else other than childhood best friend platonic love. the image of him retracting away from you, nervous laughter and jokes to mask his discomfort in the situation echo'ing in your mind and causing your chest to tighten.

so you mentally take a shovel and dig a grave for the thought, burying it deep down in your mind and try to forget about the idea and how silly it was you try to tell yourself as your heart pounds against your ribs.

conflict without any resolution in your mind, you find your eyes glancing back down onto the cherry of his cigarette that he holds in-between his index and middle finger, the stick full of nicotine all of a sudden becoming much more appealing than ever before.

"mind if i take a hit?" you then ask, your eyes looking back up at him as you watch his eyebrows raise in slight surprise, before shifting into a teasing look.

"smokey bear would be so disappointed in you." he remarks, playing up an act of disappointment despite the grin on his face as he hands you the stick.

"har har" you retort, before bringing the cigarette up to your lips and take an inhale with slight hesitance.

josh watches you with curiosity, not sure if he's ever actually seen you smoke a cigarette more than once or twice in his entire time of knowing you, and those hardly even count considering those few times were when you two were freshmen and experiencing your first ever highschool party, remembering how eager you were to look 'cool' in front of the actual cool kids, taking the cigarette they offered as you inhaled it and nearly died from how hard you coughed as your hand shakingly handed it back to them.

and that's all the more apparent as you take a much bigger inhale than needed. the burn of the smoke quickly fills up your lungs, and you quickly hand him back the cigarette as coughs erupt from your throat, a hand to your chest to try to gather your breaths despite the burning in your lungs. josh takes the cigarette back from your hand, his eyes locked on your slightly hunched frame trembling from the coughs, concern in his slightly widened eyes before a slight playful smile tugs on his face.

"you good there?" he asks with amusement dripping in his voice after a second, figuring you've finally gathered yourself to respond.

you look back up at him with tears in your eyes from the stinging sensation from all of the coughing, your eyebrows completely furrowed in near annoyance at the amusement in his voice before giving him a very polite gesture with your hand before coughing once more, getting a laugh from him in response.

taking a cold, big breath of air as your coughing fit finally comes to an end, you give him a look of fake disdain.

"i could've died right then and there, and here you are laughing." you joke, your voice hoarse from all the coughing before watching him shake his head, his shoulders tremble with his laughter and you can't help but admire the way the ends of his smile curl up and how his laughter shows a glimpse of his pearly white teeth, and you can't help but to grow a smile of your own at the sight.

"if that's what would've led you to your demise, I applaud you for making it this far." he teases further, flicking the growing ash off of the red-hot end of the cigarette, taking another inhale of his cigarette with a smug look. your eyes just linger on his movements, watching the way his lips wrap around the orange part of the cigarette with the similar look of admiration he held for you only minutes prior.

"I don't know how you do it without coughing." you say after a few seconds, your eyes still hooked on the sight of his lips as he slowly exhales the smoke out like second nature. "well," there's a pause of silence for a second, a glimmer in his eyes almost as if he had an idea, taking a glance at his cigarette and how much he had left before tilting his head slightly at you. "here, watch me."

he then takes another hit, a small puff which is slow and steady as his chest rises, holding it in his lungs before letting out an equally as slow breath as smoke escapes his lips. you're watching with interest, but more so the way he manages to look so attractive instead of what he's showing you, your eyes lingering for longer than necessary on his mouth before he hands you the stick. "your turn." his words break you out of your thoughts of what it'd be like to kiss him, instead your eyes darting down to his hand and carefully taking the cigarette out of his calloused fingers.

"take two breaths, first from the cigarette, just a small inhale, you're not popeye, and then a slow breath from the air until you feel it slowly in your lungs." he instructs with a gentle voice.

putting it back to your lips, you follow his instructions and try your best to replicate what he had just shown you a few seconds prior when your mind was more occupied on the idea of his plush lips against yours than the demonstration itself, but you manage to take a short inhale, pulling the cigarette away from your mouth as you take a easy-paced, chilled breath. this time, you feel the smoke travel down to your lungs in a softer caress compared to the rough stabbing of the smoke prior. his eyes watching as you carefully exhale the smoke, an encouraging glint in his eyes as he watches you manage to not cough this time.

"better, huh?" he asks in a lower voice, taking the cigarette from you as you hand it back to him, taking a longer drawl this time, his eyes glued onto you ever long.

with a small groan, you reluctantly nod. "better."

....

and this is the part of the story where i had no idea where to take this, but I wanted to finally post this so pls enjoy this regardless of it's unfinished glory ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

[hannahlovesluca]

| the fic no one asked for but i had to write

| warnings: lots of cursing, reader is part of ILUNA

“i’m just going to stand over here alone..” Rosemi states, your character following behind hers “What did you say? your mic is dank as hell.”

Before Rosemi even has a chance to respond, a snowball is thrown directly at your characters face.

You didn’t even have to think to immediately know who it was.

“LUCA!” You scream whilst pressing shift and running over to him and punching his character repeatedly in the face.

With each punch, you say one word.

“eat. my. balls.”

As you were doing this, Aia jumped atop of Luca’s head and her characters body went lip.

“AHAHHAA SHE DIED!!” Luca howls, punching your character.

And behind you both, Vox and Alban are slapping each others butts. Typical NIJI collab, right?

“I need to watch a YouTube tutorial for how to live life.” Kyo’s disembodied, dank mic says whilst running past you.

The only thing you can hear (that actually makes sense) is Luca’s maniacal laughing and telling Fulgur about how Aia died.

“What’s the matter with you, Baby?” Fulgur asks Luca.

“Nothing much, hegh..”

Your character runs up to Luca’s and punches him once.

“Hey girl, sorry we couldn’t skype tonight. but, thats alright,” Luca pauses, punching your character, “see you tomorrow, girl. good night.”

Thats the last thing you hear before your screen fades to black and the first game starts.

The first game is the snowball fight.

You get placed on Red Team, and immediately start bunny-hopping around and throwing snowballs at the other team.

And, eventually, you hit Ike, and right before his mic cuts out you hear,

“FUCK YOU Y/N L/N OF NIJISANJI EN’S-”

You immediately burst out laughing, your model ceasing to move on the bottom right of the screen due to how hard you were laughing.

And as you were laughing, you get hit in the head with a snowball.

You’re not even mad though, it was too funny.

And as this game comes to an end, you’re brought back to life due to your team having won that game.

You’re still laughing as the next game starts, but it starts dying off as you analyze what game it is.

Crusty Rocks.

Within seconds, your character hops from one sinking rock to the same one as Fulgur.

“Hey, Y/N, friends right? You wouldn’t hurt the birthday boy?”

“No, never. Why would you think that?” You say before pushing him off the rocks a few seconds later.

Fulgur, not phased, just tells his chat: “Eh, I didn’t trust her anyways.”

“Anyone who betrays me I will never- AHHHHH-” Rosemi screams as her rock starts sinking down, you immediately start laughing before jumping over to her.

“Hi Rosemi-sama..” You say, punching her character once to greet her, but not push her off.

“Hi Y/N-san… you’re not gonna kill me, right?” She says, sounding slightly worried.

“Of course not, you’re my wifey, Wosemi-sama….”

You say before hitting her character once again, luckily, just before she lands in the ocean, she somehow manages to jump onto a nearby rock.

“EVBEBEHEU PLUCK YOU Y/N!!”

You start laughing maniacally once again, hearing Rosemi keep on saying the word ‘pluck’.

You watch as Nina dies at the last second, having been deserted far away from the others on a single rock that started to sink.

“Oh God, chat. I don’t think I’m going to survive TanTan.” you say, chuckling whilst the next game boots up.

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN] 🔧: i hate you.

Fulgur Ovid [NIJISANJI EN] 🔧: So do I, Ike. So do I.

“Hi Fulgur, Hi Ike.” You say whilst readjusting your headphones. “Sorry for killing you both.” You say before winking and the round starts.

The first thing you hear is Luca’s chuckle as the round starts.

“Alright mate,” He keeps saying in an overdone Aussie accent.

“I actually had a nightmare about TanTan last night,” Vox says to no one directly. However you heard it.

“Please elaborate, Vox.” You say, confused whilst chucking a snowball at TanTan.

You hear Millie screaming in the background as she had not realized you needed to jump over the shock waves TanTan sends in order to survive.

“Well-” Vox starts before he gets hit in the head with a snowball. “You guys are so funny, YOU’RE SO FUCKING FUNNY-” you don’t hear the rest of Vox’s sentence as you had bunny-hopped too far away, hoping he wouldn’t figure out that you were the culprit.

However, you are able to hear when he screeches (screams?? idek know what noise he made) so loud that you’re genuinely surprised his microphone didn’t implode.

It’s only you and Luca left before Luca hits you in the head with a snowball, your body going limp afterward.

“OH YOU MOTHERFUCKER YOU THINK YOU’RE SO FU-”

You mald, aware he can’t hear you anymore.

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN] 🔧: what you get LOL

“Shut up, Ike. Aren’t you streaming anyway? Why do you have mine opened?”

In a matter of seconds, Ike sends another message.

Ike Eveland [NIJISANJI EN] 🔧: not streaming. am i not allowed to support my kouhai?

You’re caught off guard by Luca screaming about how much he loves crab before the screen switches over to the theme music and Luca dancing violently.

As it switches back to the lobby, the first thing you hear is your genmate Kyo saying:

“Y/N should have won.. Luca you have some sort of rich super-power.”

You fake tears and say, “My genmate, Kyo Kaneko, loves me??”

“Don’t push it, bitch.”

[dreamalittledreamofcopia]

rain -- cardinal copia x reader

the weather was gloomy, rainy, and cool today in northeastern illinois and it was the perfect condition to write about warm and cozy cuddles with copia ☺️

this takes place during his cardinal days because i cannot get enough of the sweet gentle careful copia // 2.7k words, slightly nsfw banter

The forecast called for days worths of showers after a time of relative drought. The abbey was shrouded in overcast skies and the windows reflected the rain drops on the marble walls. The consistent pitter patter of rain, the constant howl of the wind, and the occasional clap of thunder and flash of lightning dominated what could be heard in the totality of the ministry. Even the click of your heels against the tile floor was hidden within the sounds of the storm.

You made your way down the halls of the ministry, smiling and waving at some of your acquaintances as you passed by. You had your reasons for joining the ministry, for leaving your old religion behind and following the Dark One. You didn't know quite what you expected, but you certainly did not expect an interesting partnership to develop between you and the Cardinal. If people wanted to meet with the Cardinal, they knew they had to speak to you, which is why you were going to his office today. Sister Imperator had blessed you with the task of showing Copia how to access the ministry’s shared hard drive, both because she didn’t want to and because she knew he would receive the tutorial better if it came from you.

You gently knocked on the door to Copia’s office, not wanting to disturb him despite the task you were given. After a few beats, you heard his chair move and his boots tread across the floor beneath the rain before the door slowly creaked open. Copia looked out above your head before turning to look down at you, a way he loved to tease you about your height. Before a word was exchanged, you huffed and crossed your arms in front of your chest. Copia was validated in your response and smirked, his mismatched eyes shining down affectionately at you.

“Ah, sorella,” he almost cooed, his voice thick with relief, as if he was expecting someone else, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

You blushed and bit the inside of your cheek to hide a smile, “Sister Imperator wants me to show you something on the ministry I Drive.” You knew your words meant nothing to him, this was confirmed by the gentle cock of his eyebrow and his confused expression. But he did enjoy listening to the sound of your voice. “Don’t worry,” you began to reassure him, “it’s easy computer stuff, you’ll get it.”

Copia let out a long sigh, as if he didn’t quite believe you, but stepped aside to let you into his office regardless. He was secretly happy to get to spend time with you, an observation you were able to glean from the rising blush on the shells of his ears. You smiled sweetly up at Copia as you walked past him into his office. He caught a whiff of your scent as you glided below him and he sighed softly, imaging what your hair looked like beneath your habit. He shut the door gently and turned towards you, “So this computer thing…?”

You nodded and began to walk towards his desk, beconing him to follow. He obliges, sitting down in his chair whilst looking up at you like he was a child waiting for his parent to do their math homework. You shook your head, amazed at how the Cardinal could be so technoligcally inept at his age. Maybe it was the years of seclusions in the Italian Alps, or his aversion form the general marketplace of ideas that kept him offline. Either way, in his new role he would have to learn how to work a computer. That was unavoidable, and you had spent hours attempting to convince Copia of this. At this point you were genuinely unsure if his ineptitude was real or if he was faking it just to have a reason to keep you around.

You leaned over his shoulder to watch his computer screen as he logged on. “Wow, Cardinal! Look how good you’re getting.” you teased, your voice dripping with sarcasm and fake praise.

“Grazie, mio cara.” Copia looked up at you with a smug look on his face. He laid his hand on your bicep and ran his thumb along your arm. “There’s better things we could be doing than fussing with a computer, eh?”

You rolled your eyes and grumbled at the growing blush on your cheeks. “No, Copia, I’m teaching you how to get to the goddamn I Drive.”

“Okie dokie,” he said, a huff in his voice as he moved his hand from your arm and turned back to his computer. You leaned over his shoulder and instructed him, your cheek radiating by his, and he found it difficult to follow your guide as your sweet smelling voice wofted across his face.

Your relationship with the Cardinal was funny, to say the least. You were the only one in the abbey who could keep him on track and focussed on the task at hand. Professionally, you complimented him well. His productivity had gone up since you two had gotten closer, and you certainly made his transition and settlement into the role of Cardinal easier. There was talk of appointing you as his official assistant, as of now you remained in your role as a Sister of Sin with no changes sanctioned by Sister Imperator or Papa Nihil. It didn’t quite matter to you as you resolved to stay faithful to the Cardinal no matter status or position in the ministry. You saw how much he needed you after your first few days of randomly helping him, and it was beyond you how anyone could do the job alone.

Personally, you complimented him well. He enjoyed being around you. You had quickly became his best friend and your presence always put him at ease. He didn’t know if it was your aura or your personality or what, but something drew him to you and he began to depend on you to get through his day. He thought about you at night, when the bathroom was steamed over him his shower and he leaned his flustered head against the wall, low groans mixing with the sound of water falling down the drain. Unbeknownst to you, the Ghouls had a bet going to see when Copia would crack and confess his all-consuming feelings for you.

The dynamic and banter you shared wasn’t just confined to his office, but people were beginning to take notice all across the abbey. The lost look in his eyes when he was without you, the gentle smile that came over him when you sought him out. You made him feel special, adequate, whole, and the adroation that was born out of that was evident in the air around him.

You noticed it. You basked in it, reveled in it. His reliance on you made you feel important. You nursed the fallacy in your head that the papacy would fall apart without you, but the truth was it very well could have. Imperator knew that, so she avoided discussing the potential romance with you completely. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and she didn’t want to know what was going on until it became a problem. You assumed that Imperator was assuming that you and Copia were together and you never bothered to correct her. Nothing ever did happen though, despite a few close encounters, but it was nothing that a few cold showers couldn’t fix.

After a frustrating twenty minutes, Copia knew how to access files in the drive that was shared on all of the ministry computers. He could access anything he had to, and he promised you that he would review the documents Imperator wanted him to see in the first place. He tucked his nose into your hair and kissed your cheek in thanks, a gesture that always left him satisfied and left you flustered.

Today was no different. You rolled your eyes to act like that little kiss didn’t mean anything to you, but you knew Copia knew you well enough to tell it was an act.

“Sorella,” he spoke softly, turning in his swivel chair to face you, “the rain’s reflection in your eyes is absolutely captivating.”

“Thank you, Cardinal,” you blushed as he moved to hold both of your hands in his, “you’re far too kind.” That was your default response to his flirtation and compliments. It drove him quickly.

“Do you think the abbey is cold today?” Copia tilted his head to the side and kept smiling, soft and sweet. “I think it’s cold today.”

Copia’s office had a few giant windows on the same wall, all of them letting in a tender glow from the rain and allowing the cooler air seep in through the glass. The pseudo wind did chill you to your bones and you moved to sit on the Cardinal’s desk to gaze down into his pretty face.

“I think the rain is throwing off the heat, yes. Why?”

Copia wore a mischevious grin on his face as he lazily wrapped his arms around your waist. “You’ve helped me so much today, I should give you something in return, yes?”

“Cardinal, no, whatever it is no.”

“Oh, come on now. Trust me,” he cooed as he stood up, keeping his arms around you. He was considerably taller and he looked down at you affectionately, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Fidati di me.”

Hearing him speak Italian always gave you butterflies and you couldn’t help the smile that lit up your face. You kicked your feet gently as they dangled off the desk, humming softly as you pretended to consider his offer. “Trust you with what?”

“Let me hold you,” he spoke softer, lower, as he leaned down to your level more. His voice and his breath fanned across the apple of your cheeks, causing your face to flush adorably. Copia smiled as he contineud to speak to you. “Let me wrap you up and hold you in my arms. Holding you is the only thought that puts me to sleep at night, and there’s nothing better than cuddles and a nap in the rain.”

“You’re very wise, Cardinal,” you smiled, tilting your chin up to meet his precious gaze.

He grinned, gently laying his hand on your cheek. You leaned into his touch and the movement melted his heart. “I’m the Cardinal for a reason, cara.”

“I suppose so,” you smiled and laid your hands on his arms.

“Let’s take this veil off, yeah? Cuddling wont be very comfortable in that.” He mused as he gently moved his hand beneath your veil and into your hair. You sighed softly and shut your eyes as he gave your scalp a gentle massage your with the pads of his fingers. After a moment he slipped the bobby pins out of your hair and laid your veil on his desk, smiling as he watched your hair settle around your face. He ran his fingers through it for a moment and you smiled sweetly up at him when he tucked it behind your ear. He was still too shy to kiss your lips but he wasn’t too shy to gaze down at yours longingly, causing your cheeks to burn.

Copia grinned wickedly and picked you up, holding onto your bottom as you squeaked and wrapped your legs around his waist. You felt his lips turn up into a smirk seconds before his hand squeezed and smacked your ass.

“Cardinal!” Your voice was somewhere between a shriek and a laugh as you started to wiggle, trying to break free of his grasp.

“Oh please, I’ve read your mass notes,” Copia smirks, nuzzling his nose into your cheek, “So che lo volevi, so che mi vuoi.”

You shuddered and held onto his shoulders as he carried you over to the couch in his office, sitting down with you still on his lap. The friction between your bodies was delicious but Copia’s goal right now wasn’t sex, it was cuddles, no matter how much his body betrayed his mind. He swivled your hips off of his as quickly as he could, covering his groin and his hips with a blanket, but the damage was already done. You knew what was happening and your cheeks burned at the thought.

His hands moved to your shoulders as he laid down on his back, turning his hips to kick his feet up on the couch, cradling you with him as he held you flush against his side. You were tucked between the Cardinal and the back of the couch, your head nestled between a throw pillow and his shoulder. He sighed, probably exagerating the relief he felt when he laid back.

You looked up at him shyly but smiled after a moment, watching the reflection of the rain on his face. His eyes met yours and they were rain soaked and beautiful, the palor of his skin turning blue in the light from the window.

Copia turned towards you gently, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Oh, I’ve made a mark,” he chuckled absentmindedly as he swiped his thumb across your skin to pick up the black lipstick left behind. You giggled and rolled your eyes playfully, your brain a flustered mess of electicity and lust and affection and passion.

“What if Imperator finds us like this?” You asked softly, reaching to take your black heels off and dropping them behind the couch. When you thought it was safe, you intertwined your stockinged legs with his, and arm wrapped behind you and his hand subconsiously moved to rest on your thigh.

“She wont. And if she does she has nothing to complain about, yes?” He stroked your cheek with his other hand. Nothing yet, at least.

You just smiled and nodded, leaning into his touch. “Okay, I trust you. Even though I know I shouldn’t.”

Copia chuckled, a low rumble that complimented the thunder outside. In a quick moment of remembrance, he took off his hat and placed it haphazardly on your head before turning to look up at the ceiling. He kept his eyes on you and smiled as your cheeks changed color to match the fabric hue. “Sei così carino,” he cooed softly, thankful that you let him speak his mother tongue to you.

You just smiled like Mona Lisa and nudged your nose against his cheek before kissing it softly. The Cardinal hummed happily and shut his eyes, leaning his head towards yours as you settled in besides him.

The warmth that radiated from Copia was trapped in by the blanket, and your body relaxed as you soaked in it. His gentle hands never stopped moving completly, either he would be rubbing your back with his palm or dragging his thumb across your collar bone as his fingers rested on your shoulders. He would find tiny ways to remind himself that he was still holding you, a preoccupation that continued even as little snores rose up from both of your lips.

Loving him would be so easy, you thought.

A few hours later Copia was consious enough to return to sentience. His eyes darted around the room but he was careful to keep his body and his head still as not to wake you. His hat had fallen onto his stomach, and there were some new papers and files littering his desk, evidence that Imperator did stop by, but his hypothesis was correct. For the time being, as long as you kept the Cardinal on task and continually adjusting to his unfamilliar postition, she would maintain that she had no idea what was brewing (or more affectionately, blossoming) between the fresh Cardinal and the Sister of Sin.

Copia stroked your cheek softly and smiled at the way your cheek was jello beneath his touch. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips, close enough to feel your mouth against his but still far enough to leave the title of First Kiss open for the taking.

“Amore mio, sei il mio angelo,” he whispered before snuggling your sleeping form a little closer and tucking his face into the crook of your neck.

Outside, rain was still falling. The room was still cold and sounds of droplets hitting the abbey and thunder echoed off the walls. After one particularly loud boom, you stirred, clinging to the Cardinal for safety. He cooed your name into your ear, turning onto his side and pulling you closer. He brought the blanket closer to your heads, rubbing his cheek against yours as he protected you from the storm raging outside.

[noellesnowelle]

Weekly Update

the calm before the storm, warmer autumn week, preparing for birthdays and christmas time

04.11.-10.11.2024

Studying

started my study notes for the Hygiene Passport, it is so nice to learn something else besides languages

little presentation in my Finnish course that went well

studied in bed because sometimes being the most comfortable helps me be more productive (especially when I am exhausted)

Languages

finally creating new Finnish flashcards

learning new field specific English vocabulary

not much else, except that I realised I need to actually practice writing and speaking in English again

Health

my herpes broke out on monday because my immune system was weakened through stress, cold and sleep-deprivation, but the final trigger was a man in my course who annoyed me so much that I got too riled up about him and because of the stress and anger my herpes was there an hour later...

luckily it is already almost completely healed again

was feeling mentally and physically very weak and exhausted this week because my period was late

took it slower in general and drank lots of tea

For myself

after I finished my course on friday, I spent the whole afternoon reading in bed

I also avoided all Finnish studies on Saturday and instead started binge watching Heartstopper Season 3

started preparing a new canvas for another Bob Ross tutorial

this week's

reading / watching / listening

Bitterthorn - Kat Dunn

Heartstopper (Season 3)

Paint the town blue - Ashnikko, Arcane & League of Legends

Howling - XG

Sky over Tokyo - RADWIMPS

[setsuntamew]

Welcome back to "Icon Making With Killian: An Intro to the 'Lost' Art of LiveJournal Icons"

aka, you didn't think I was one and done, right?

This tutorial was written in Photoshop 2020, but you can probably recreate it in as far back as CS2-ish (since I still use the same sort of techniques I've been using since then, lmao). It also assumes basic understanding of the software, though I've tried to be as clear as possible throughout.

I was possessed with a need to both make an icon of Madara's new event card and then write a tutorial, so let's all be proud that I busted it out before Halloween 💪

I started with the bloomed art of Madara from The Howling Forest★Lupine Halloween event (image from the Halloween 2024 campaign announcement, because the event hasn't started yet).

Since there's a lot of extra text & etc on this, I knew I'd be cropping it pretty close. I started with a blank 100x100 canvas, pasted the original image in, and then resized + rotated it until I liked the composition/crop.

First up, I wanted to get some cobwebs in here (for Halloween!), but didn't want them to overwhelm the whole icon. I used a texture from lookslikerain, set to Lighten, and rotated it a bit before erasing anything covering his face.

Next, I used another texture from lookslikerain and set it to Darken. There's a lot of green in the images for this event and I wanna pull some of that back into the icon, since it most got cropped out.

Time for light textures!!! I used a bunch in this icon~ I started with one from lookslikerain (can you tell I love their resources?), rotated it, and set the layer to Lighten, before deciding that it was too harsh. I used a small, soft brush set to 30% Opacity to erase most of the texture from his face, as well as softening the edges of the light.

The next few light textures are kinda subtle, but overall add to the icon. I'd say sometimes less is more, but I'm a maximalist at heart XD For the next few steps, just assume that the light textures were rotated/resized/moved/etc as I saw fit. I used yet another texture from lookslikerain, set to Lighten, and tucked in the bottom right corner.

This light texture from Sanami276 is also set to Screen. I moved it around to get just a bit of orange in the top left corner- gotta keep those Halloween colors in there!! :D

I wanted some more depth/texture in the upper left corner, so I decided to use part of a texture from Sanami276.

However, it's way to harsh to just throw in there like that...at least not for my purposes. I decided to invert the colors and recolor the black parts orange. My go-to method is with a Gradient Map adjustment layer. The easiest place to find it is in the Adjustments window.

I then used these colors for the gradient itself: #e7b676 at 0% and #ececec at 100%.

And it left the texture looking appropriately orange! I then pasted it into the actual icon, moved it so the rectangles were in the upper left corner, and set the layer to Darken.

Now for more light textures!! I used a couple from ianthinae, set them to Lighten, and went to town. I cut them up, moved them around, rotated them...just about anything to make them fit where I wanted. I love playing with light textures in general, and I find that even when I use similar ones a lot, they can look very different depending on how they're place.

Finally, I used part of a large grunge-y texture that I've unfortunately lost the source to D: I inverted it and set the layer to Multiply, before moving it around a bunch until I found a spot that looked good.

And with that, it's done! You've now got some new skills to make icons with~

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask, and I'll answer as best I can- as long as it's not about making icons in other software D: I only know Photoshop (and Paint Shop Pro, but I don't think anyone uses that anymore). If there are any other icons of mine you're interested in seeing tutorials for - or even just specific techniques! - just lemme know. I love helping :D

Also, I'm happy to share where I get icon resources from. I have a whole post dedicated to that on my DW graphics journal, though tbh that's the best place to talk to me about making graphics in general. But I will absolutely answer asks/replies/etc about icons here on tumblr, don't worry!!!!

[sincerely-sofie]

4, 8, and 20?

(referencing this ask game)

4: What is your favorite book?

I'm not a very regular reader, but in terms of fiction, I love Anne of Green Gables and Howl's Moving Castle! I read a lot of nonfiction though, and love Spilling Ink by Anne Mazer and Ellen Potter, as well as If You Want to Write by Brenda Ueland and Random Illustrated Facts by Mike Lowery! Mike Lowery in particular is an artistic influence I want to borrow more from in the future.

8: What is your dream job?

In a perfect world? A multi-disciplinary artist who has a rich benefactor who pays me to make weird art and occasionally do a commission for them once in a while. In a more practical one? I'd love to be a writing / art teacher. It's a dream of mine, but not a very realistic one. Maybe I could make a Skillshare or YouTube tutorial course on the side...

20: What's a totally random and useless fact that you know?

There's a caterpillar that looks like it's always going "owo" called the Japanese Emperor Caterpillar!

[cloudcountry]

hey! first of all, congratulations on 1k, i think your characterisation is amazing, and everything you write is so comforting to read, thank you for sharing your gift with us all

if it's okay, i'd like to request jack + snowboarding :)

:((( !!! thank you so much, thats so sweet!!! i try really hard to characterize twst character properly (especially when theyre super hard to write COUGH COUGH epel leona lilia COUGH COUGH) so i'm so glad i'm getting there!!!! :D sniffle thank you anon i'm so glad my fics are comforting!!@@!%$#%#!@@#!#! THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!

i,,,,, know nothing about snowboarding but i did some light research and i think i have the general idea!! wrote some competitive jack because that EXISTS and i think we need more fics with him being smug

JACK HOWL + SNOWBOARDING (1k event details)

~~~~~

You watch with interest as Jack glides across the snow, flipping and twisting and spinning in the air. His brow furrows in concentration, and while many would say he looks intimidating like this, you can’t help but think he looks like he’s having fun.

Jack lands in what you can assume is perfect form and grins as he gazes at you.

“Was that a good tutorial for you?” he calls, making his way over to you with his board in hand.

It’s rare that you get to see the more competitive side of him. Usually, he’s more serious and mellowed out, but now he seems far more relaxed.

“Yeah, it was. You moved so gracefully, it was like watching someone dancing in the air.” you praise, smiling back at him.

Jack halts his movements, as if remembering who he's here with, and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Thanks.” he replies gruffly, “You should start on the bunny slopes. They’re pretty simple.”

You can’t help but think that if any other Savanaclaw student was here right now, they would have made a herbivore joke. Jack doesn’t, which you’re thankful for, but he does take your hand in his and lead you toward a slope that looks much more manageable.

“Why are you coming with me?” you ask, confused.

“I still have to teach you some things, don’t I?” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “Besides, wolves stay in packs anyway.”

[tokyonymph]

Looking for more blogs to follow!

Hi everyone, I'm looking to add more variety to both my blog and my dashboard. Please like or reblog this post if you are interested in or post about any of the following:

These video games: Hades, Cult of the Lamb, Stardew Valley, Animal Crossing, Nier: Automata, Hollow Knight, Persona, Bioshock, and Undertale/Deltarune.

These TV shows/anime: Over the Garden Wall, Twin Peaks, Arcane, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Kimi ni Todoke, The Moomins.

These films: Studio Ghibli (especially Howl's Moving Castle and Spirited Away), DreamWorks, Disney/Pixar, etc.

Cottagecore, naturecore, light academia, and/or any similar aesthetics.

Art references/tutorials.

Cooking, baking, and recipes.

Entomology, ornithology, and/or general zoology.

Enneagram and MBTI.

Anime-inspired illustrations, drawings, and/or comics.

Writing prompts, inspiration, and tips.

Good Spotify playlists - can be general concepts or based on media.

Cute animal videos (dogs, cats, rabbits, etc.)

Thank you, and have a great rest of your day!

[amethystsoda]

tagged by @holochromatic :D thank you friend!!

currently reading: volume 6 of dunmeshi, trigun volume 2, a Ray Bradbury short story collection, various art/illustration tutorial books, Howl's Moving Castle

last song:

last movie: Glass Onion!

currently working on: writing a trigun fanfic, recovering after being super sick for a month, playing through collar x malice.

tagging:

@strawberrystepmom@smol-sunnie@shaylistic@j0suc@hazgojo @daydreamslug@dongiovannaswife@momokujo@deliriovs@leefi @mapesandoval@giogio-gucci-gangstar@holochromatic@lela-ri @blondeboyfriend@leftsidebonfire@florencemachina@peachsayshi @fr00t-loops@wurm-food@kentoswifey@pensivespecter@sampige @kurtbrussels@m00dysunflower@lostinthe-jojos@suget @meownotgood@bonesandsunflowers@tonitart @light-koe-pinsky@milkpowderbun@arsenicstrudel @rozentias@turquoiseoctbr@pantowone@raideo

[watchmegetobsessed]

Eunoia - Harry Styles

a/n: i’ve been meaning to write a piece filled with just fluffy, domestic moments through a relationship, and that’s when i created Flora in my mind. wrote it with an OC bc i had very specific traits and stuff in my mind about her and it didn’t feel right to write it with y/n but feel free to read however you’d like it! but i think Flora is a delightful girl, she is a teacher and a free spirit, i think you’ll like her!

pairing: Harry x OC (Floortje ‘Flora’ Hoven)

word count: 9.5k

masterlist

Eunoia (n.) Beautiful thinking: a well mind.

Harry is always looking forward to times when his days aren’t filled from morning to midnight, traveling all around the world, meeting dozens of new people at various new meetings. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the buzz his life comes with, but one can drive this lifestyle only for a while before getting tired. He now appreciates his calm periods, when he is not living out of his suitcase, he has the time to drop by a café and enjoy his morning coffee sitting down instead of grabbing it in a go-to cup and chugging it down in his car. When he can just take a walk when the weather is nice enough and his favorite is when he has the time to just look at things without a rush and appreciate them.

He has built up a habit of going to the same coffee place since he got off tour and jumped right into his well-deserved months off filled with meditation, resting and focusing on himself after giving so much for the world. It’s just two corners down his place, falling perfectly into his way to the gym and now he even has a favorite table in the corner, because it gives him a great view of the place but the vines hanging from the ceiling masks his presence enough that people don’t often notice him there, providing some privacy for his morning coffee.

It was his third day here when he first noticed her. She was sitting at the table by the window, near the door, deep in a book, another pile waiting for her on the free seat next to her as she intensely made notes of her reading. She had her wild, curly hair in a puffy bun on the top of her head, clearly just thrown into it haphazardly when she started working. Her ivory frame glasses kept sliding down the bridge of her nose and thy seemed a bit too big for her face, but they overall fit perfectly with her knitted sweater and dungarees. And Harry couldn’t look over the fact that she had little sunflowers painted on her nails. That instantly made him smile as he adorned her from afar.

As the days passed and Harry spent almost all his morning at the same spot, he started seeing or more like noticing her more often. She always sat at the same table and Harry figured it was because of the natural lighting coming through the windows that came in handy, because she was always either reading and making notes, or doing something crafty, mostly origami, he noticed. She often had her laptop open with tutorials on different origami works that she was trying to make herself, not always succeeding, but she got it right most of the time, a triumphant smile plastering across her face every time she finished a piece, her dimples digging deep into her round cheeks. Harry couldn’t stop herself from smiling whenever she held up the finished work and adorned what she just created. He often wondered what happened to the little creations afterwards, but she just usually shoved them into her backpack before leaving.

By the fifth or sixth time he has seen her, he already knew her order. Vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Large sized, of course, so she has something to sip on while she typed away on her laptop or finished reading another book.

Harry caught himself looking for her on mornings when he didn’t see her, which were usually Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, but one Wednesday, when he had an early meeting for a change with his team, he arrived before 8 am into the place and for his biggest surprise, there she was, sitting at her usual table, drinking the same drink as always. Later, Harry found himself coming earlier on those days just to find her there yet again and he figured her work schedule must start earlier on those days.

As the days went by Harry started to play with the thought of walking up to her. He wondered if she has noticed him as well, but it seemed like even if she did, his presence didn’t impress or bother her at all which just irked his curiosity about her even more. But every time he thought about finally talking to her, he decided against it, feeling like he would just be an intruder in her morning sessions. Until one day, the chance was handed to him on a silver plate.

She is doing origami once again on this particular day, making little cranes, one after the other, using different colored papers to make them form out a mess rainbow on her table. It’s a quiet morning, only a few more people sitting around at place. It’s been quite windy the past couple of days and today seems to be the worst, the trees are being tossed around by the howling winds outside, but it just makes it even cozier to sit inside in the warmth, enjoying a nice hot drink.

Harry finds himself watching her intently as her delicate fingers work on the paper, one crane following the other, she is starting to have a whole army of them.

An older man walks into the café and as he opens the door wide, the wind is quick to run into the place, knocking over everything that’s not heavy enough to stay still and the paper cranes are the first ones to start flying off the table.

“No! Darn it!” she gasps, her hands grabbing after them, saving just a few, but most end up on the floor, somersaulting away from her table. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and come to her rescue, lending her a pair of helping hands as she gathers her creations. “Oh, thank you!” she breathes out softly, her eyes meeting his and for his biggest surprise… she doesn’t seem to be stunned or even surprised by him, as if she doesn’t know who he is.

Maybe she doesn’t, it’s a possibility, he tells himself, smiling at her as he collects the cranes from the floor.

“Guess they wanted to be free,” he jokes, setting them on the table with the rest.

“It wasn’t my brightest idea to do it on such a windy day near the door,” she chuckles, looking over the bunch she’s been working on for the past thirty minutes.

“May I ask why you need so many paper cranes?” Harry inquires, leaving out the part that he’s been watching her do her origami for weeks now.

“Oh, I want to make decorations out of them, hang them up in my classroom. I’m a teacher,” she adds smiling.

That’s the most fitting job he could ever imagine for her, she is definitely the cool and adored teacher every kid is obsessed with.

“Wow, and how many do you need?” he asks, the stack of paper at the edge of the table looks quite a lot and he wonders if she wants to use them all for the cranes.

“Well, as many as I can make before my fingers fall off,” she jokes. Harry notices her freckles from up close that have been hidden behind her glasses until now. Her hair is in two space buns today and she is wearing a striped shirt with light-washed jeans and colorful sneakers. The sunflowers are gone from her nails, replaced by tiny daisies, but Harry likes them just as much as the previous flowers. They fit her well.

“Do you… I would love to help, if you want,” he finds himself offering, not even thinking about the question before it slips his mouth.

“You sure?” she asks, seemingly surprised but she definitely doesn’t find it weird that he just offered to help her.

“Yeah. Looks really calming and I haven’t made one in so long. Want to see if I still remember the steps,” he smiles.

“Take a seat then,” she nods, returning his smile. Harry goes back to his table to grab his stuff and join her.

“I’m Harry, by the way,” he introduces himself as he takes the empty chair at her table, holding out his hand for her that she gladly takes.

“Floortje, but everyone just calls me Flora,” she smiles.

“Never heard that name, what’s the origin of it?”

“It’s Dutch. My dad is Dutch, he came up with the name as well and my mother liked it. It means little flower, nothing grandiose,” she chuckles, reaching for another paper to start her next crane.

“Do you have a Dutch last name as well?” he asks, but then realizes she might not feel comfortable sharing her full name just yet. “You don’t have to tell me your last name though, if you don’t want to.”

“It’s alright,” she chuckles. “It’s Hoven, which is Dutch, but you pronounce it pretty much the same as you’d if it was a simple English word, just with a softer V in the middle,” she explains, her fingers working easily and fast on the thin paper, the crane is already starting to form. Harry reaches for a paper himself and tries to recollect his memory of the steps.

“Were you born in the Netherlands too?”

“Yes, I was born in Eindhoven, but we moved here when I was five. But my Dutch is still just fine, luckily. My dad refused to talk to me in English when we moved, he said he won’t have his daughter forget her mother tongue just because he is getting paid more here,” she explains with a soft chuckle as she finishes up the crane, putting it to the pile.

“I always envied bilingual people. Must be great to speak two languages that easily,” Harry wonders, eyes fixed on the paper as he is trying his best with the crane. It’s slowly coming together, though it’s not as pretty as Flora’s.

“It’s not that fun when I suddenly forget a word in one of the languages and then spend twenty minutes trying to remember when I know for a fact I know the words, it’s just stuck on my tongue.”

Harry laughs, finishing up his creation, holding it up and Flora looks at it as well. It’s a little crooked and one of its wings is longer than the other, but overall, it’s a decent first one.

“You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to,” he chuckles, putting it to the others.

“What are you talking about? It looks great!” she smiles, taking it into her hand, looking at it from all angles, smiling widely as she places it back to its peers. “It’s a nice one, and after all, it’s not your job to make cranes, so you’re fine,” she jokes.

Harry reaches for another paper as he thinks about if she knows him. Does she know what his job really is? Not that he expects everyone to know him, but she seems his age and it’s been quite impossible for him to meet someone close in age to him and not know a thing about him.

“Yeah, origami is definitely not my job,” he hums and then adds: “You… know what my job is?”

Flora glances up at him, a small smile tugging on her lips.

“Is this your way of trying to find out if I know you or not?” she smirks, tilting her head to the side, and it’s already a giveaway that she is very much aware of who she is sitting at a table with.

“I know, it was lame,” he huffs awkwardly.

“No, it was alright. And to answer your question, I do know what your job is, Harry Styles,” she replies.

“Sorry for asking around about it, you just seemed so casual and unbothered when you saw me, I thought you have no idea who I am.”

“I’m a teacher, my job is to treat everyone the same, I take equality very seriously. I don’t want my kids to think I put any of them above the rest, but I do the same outside of school too. Or do you want me to gasp and stutter now that you are sitting here?” she teases him making him laugh.

“That’s not needed at all.”

They work on their cranes in a comfortable silence and just as Harry thought, it’s quite relaxing, his thoughts slowly clear out, only focusing on the little birds he is creating. Then he glances up at Flora and suddenly his thoughts are filled with her once again. Now is his chance with her, he doesn’t want to leave this café without at least asking for her number even when he knows that he will surely see her around, just like always.

“Can I ask you something?” he speaks up as they both keep folding the colorful papers.

“Of course.”

“I hope I won’t sound creepy or something, but I’ve seen you around a lot and noticed how much you read. Is that just your hobby or…?”

“First of all it’s not creepy that you have noticed me, it’s flattering, because I have noticed you as well,” she smiles, paying him a quick glance.

“Really? I had a feeling you haven’t even seen me.”

“I did, but I thought you come here for the same reason as I do; to have some peace for yourself.”

“Ah, I see,” Harry nods.

“But to answer your question, I’m working on my second degree.”

“Oh, what’s that about?”

“Special education, speech therapy to be exact,” she tells him and Harry is even more stunned by her. Education is already a field not many can handle and then there is Flora, who didn’t just take up on it, she jumped right into it, pursuing a second degree in special education, a hard and challenging part of this job.

“Any particular reason why you chose it?”

“I have a younger brother, he is ten years younger than me, so he was already born here, but he was taught Dutch too. However, it wasn’t as easy for him as it was for me to speak two languages at the same time and he has developed some speech errors. Nothing major, but it was enough for him to be bullied in school. I saw his face every day when he came home and lied to our parents that everything is fine but then he cried to me in my room when they weren’t around. I don’t want any other kids to go through that, I’d love to be the one to not just help them come over their speech errors but also make sure they are treated the same way as everyone else.”

Harry hasn’t even noticed that he stopped working on his crane, he is now staring at her in awe, completely stunned by her. The more he learns about her the more he thinks she is a literal angel sent from above and that he can’t let her slip from his hands.

Flora looks up at him and finds him staring, a blush appearing on her full cheeks.

“Sorry for staring, but I just… this is so beautiful. Your passion about education is just one of a kind, truly. And the way how you made it your whole career and everything, I’m just… blown away,” he admits.

“Well, you made a career out of your passion too, didn’t you?” she chuckles softly.

“I did, but your story is just a little more touching,” he smirks. “Flora, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been meaning to come up to you for a while and now that we officially met, I just—I would love to take you out on a date and get to know you better.”

She blushes again and Harry notes how well the pinky shade fits her even if she probably wishes she could control it more.

“That would be lovely,” she smiles shyly and grabbing a crane from her pile she grabs a pen from her bag and writes her number to the wing of it before handing it over to Harry.

He loves that she could have easily just typed it into his phone, yet she chose to do it this way. He smiles down at the crane and puts it into his bag, securing it as if it was his biggest treasure.

When Flora opens her door for Harry she is still wearing her apron that’s filled with tulips, a pair of simple jeans underneath it with a bright yellow shirt. Harry smiles as he leans down and greets her with a soft kiss. Ever since their first kiss he has been obsessed with stealing one whenever he has the chance. Their first one was nothing grandiose, such a simple and mundane moment but for him, it was perfect. They were visiting a gallery, he chose the exhibition hoping she’ll be a fan of it since the theme was botany, all paintings connected to flowers, gardens and plants and he was right. Flora was stunned, fascinated by each painting as they stopped at one after the other, taking their time to adore the works. They were looking at a painted garden filled with colorful wildflowers around a small cottage in the distance. Flora’s eyes wandered over all the tiny details as Harry stood close to her. She then leaned closer to point out her favorite flower and once they realized just how close their faces were, he just easily closed the gap and kissed her softly, surrounded with art, but he was convinced she was his favorite masterpiece he has ever seen.

“Hi, sorry, I’m a little late, dinner is not ready yet,” she huffs letting him inside. “Had to stay at the school a little longer than expected.”

“Don’t worry. Can I help with anything?” he asks following her into the kitchen, putting the bottle of wine he brought into the fridge to keep it cool until dinner.

“No, it’s fine. I just need about fifteen minutes to finish up the veggies,” she smiles at him and tiptoeing she steals a quick kiss. Harry hasn’t been the only one obsessed with kisses. “Make yourself home.”

Harry leaves to use the bathroom quickly and on his way back he finds himself wandering into her bedroom. He has been in her home just a few times before, only spending short minutes here when he was picking her up but now he has time to actually look around, hoping she won’t mind him snooping around.

Her whole place is just as colorful as she is always, each piece of furniture a different style and color, yet fitting so well when you see it as a whole. The quilted patchwork blanket over her bed is definitely homemade, each patch has a different flower on it while the left lower corner has Floortje embroidered into it. Harry wonders if it was made by a friend or family member, either way, it’s surely a special piece.

Her dresser is cluttered with rings, perfumes and endless amount of hair ties. She has complained before that her hair stretches her elastics out so fast, she keeps buying new ones every month. The little armchair in the corner is covered with a few of her used clothes, ones she’ll wear once more before putting them into the laundry basket.

As he walks over to her nightstand that’s filled with books, at least seven piled on each other, his eyes stop over something that makes his heart flutter.

A crooked little paper crane is sitting on the edge of the nightstand, the one he made the first time they talked, to be exact. Harry takes the bird and looks at it in awe, surprised that she kept it to herself. However he doesn’t find it odd, not even a little bit, since he has also kept the one she wrote her phone number onto, it’s sitting on his desk in his study.

“Found something interesting?” Flora walks in and Harry’s head whips towards her, feeling like he was just caught. But the warm smile on her lips is a telltale sign that she doesn’t mind him looking around.

“You kept it,” he states matter-of-factly, holding up the paper bird.

“Of course I did,” she nods, walking closer. “It’s a special one.”

“Thought you treat everyone and everything the same,” he teases smiling as he puts the crane back, his hands finding her waist.

“I guess there are a few exceptions,” she smirks slyly, her hands running up on his arms until they reach the base of his neck.

“Am I an exception?” The corners of his mouth curl up as he places the bird back on her nightstand and circle his arms around her waist.

“Did I say that?” she teases him. “I think I called your work a special one.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her, pretending to be hurt at her words, but he can’t push the growing smile back from his lips. They’ve been seeing each other for only over a month, but it was enough time to make him completely hooked on her. He is amazed by her in every possible way, feeling like he could never get enough of the ray of sunshine that Flora is. His favorite thing is that she makes him feel so normal, just an average guy dating a girl he met at a café. Not once did she treat him any different because of what he is and it’s just the feeling Harry has been looking for for such a long time.

“Come on, dinner is ready,” she smiles, pecking his lips before peeling his arms off of her frame, taking his hand as she pulls him out of the bedroom, however they surely end up in there again sometime after dinner, but with way less clothes on.

Harry watches as Flora plays with the bubbles in front of her, picking some foam up into her hair, watching it move around on her wet palm before blowing on it gently, her delicate fingers poking at the small bubbles that escaped from it. His hands are caressing her sides under the warm water that was once hot when they first got into it about an hour ago.

It’s been a lazy Sunday, Flora arrived early in the morning and went plant shopping. Her home has always been filled with plants and Harry has grown a liking to all the greenery, wanted some more in his house as well and Flora was more than happy to help him pick out the ones that are the easiest to take care of. Then they cooked lunch together, watched a movie and cleaned up the mess they made in the kitchen before running the bath. Harry has been loving these domestic days, lounging around his or her home, wearing comfy clothes and not caring about much of the outside words, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Remind me to buy peanut butter the next time I’m going grocery shopping,” she speaks up, leaning further back against his chest while Harry rests his chin on her shoulder, his arms tightening around her waist under the layer of bubbles.

“What do you need it for?” he hums, nudging her hair with his nose, her curls ticking his face, but he doesn’t mint it.

“I want to make cupcakes for the kids next week.”

“What for? Is there gonna be a special occasion?”

“No, they’ve just been super nice lately, we set up some new rules in the classroom and they’ve been really good following them.” Harry hums, loving how she is so eager to treat her students, he is convinced she is easily the best teacher he has ever came across.

“So peanut butter, huh? I think I need some too. Been dying to eat a good burger with some peanut butter.”

“I cannot believe you put peanut butter into your burgers,” she chuckles, peeking at him over her shoulder.

“Don’t bash it when you haven’t even tried!” he defends himself, kissing her cheek softly.

“The Aztecs would be so disappointed,” she sighs turning back forward, so she doesn’t see the puzzled look on Harry’s face.

“The Aztecs?”

“Yeah, they technically invented peanut butter,” she nods, as if it was common knowledge.

“Do I want to know why you know this about the history of peanut butter?” he chuckles softly.

“Well I had this kid last year who was obsessed with it and I started looking up fun facts for him for mornings when he looked a little moody. Then the others started enjoying it too so it became our morning thing that I told them a fun fact about anything.”

“Oh really? Tell me one then!” he asks smirking, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Okay, um…” she thinks to herself. “Do you know what the Olympic rings stand for?”

“I do not,” he shakes his head.

“The five rings stand for the five inhabited continents of the world, united by Olympism.”

“Sounds logical,” Harry nods. “Tell me another one,” he asks.

“Are you going to make me tell you all my fun facts?” she chuckles, turning a little so she can look into his beautiful green eyes.

“Maybe. I like it when you talk like this,” he smirks playfully.

“Like what?”

“Like… smart. I love how you know all these little things about the world and teach it to not just the kids but to me as well.”

“You don’t think I’m a smartass?”

“Why would I?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed.

“I used to be picked on in middle school because I liked to learn, more than what was required.”

“That doesn’t make you a smartass, baby. You don’t go around, correcting every tiny mistake around you. You use your knowledge to educate, like you should.”

Flora smiles softly at him, his words bringing the sense of reassurance she’s been seeking for so long. She pecks his lips shortly before turning back forward.

“Do you know how many days a billion seconds make up?” she asks, smiling to herself.

“I don’t.”

“11 574 days. That’s a little over 31 years.”

“So I haven’t lived a billion seconds in my life just yet,” Harry states, doing the quick math.

“No, you haven’t,” she smiles, mostly at the fact that he didn’t just listen to her little fun fact, but also thought about it a bit deeper.

They stay in the bath until the water gets cold and Harry keeps asking for fun facts and Flora gladly tells him whatever comes to her mind.

Harry finishes up the fresh salad, filled with Flora’s favorites: cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and corn with some kale, baby spinach and garlic dressing. He even sprinkled some sesame seeds on top, now he is pretty proud of his work, it looks like something influencers would snap in an aesthetic photo to their Instagram feed.

His bare feet tap against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to Flora’s bedroom where she is still curled up on her chair in front of her computer, her hair in a mess on top of her head, glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose. She hasn’t moved much from the spot in hours, intensely working on her thesis that should be finalized within the next two weeks. She has been gradually working on it over the last few months, in no mean she is behind, but she’s been extra nervous about making it as good as she wanted it when she started and Harry has been nothing but supporting about it, knowing how much it means to her. So he’s been her moral support, making sure she eats, gets some rest and doesn’t get herself too worked up about her research. She appreciates his efforts and though she often feels bad for neglecting him lately, he made sure to assure her, he’ll be right here when she is finally done with it.

Harry walks around the mountain of books on the floor she has piled up from the library these past two weeks as he walks up behind her while her fingers type away on her computer so fast he can barely believe she even understands what she’s typing.

“Hey,” he softly calls out, leaning down he kisses her cheek, holding the bowl of salad in front of her, drabbing her attention, making her gaze move from the screen to the food in front of her.

“Oh, hey! Is this for me?” she asks with a soft smile, lifting her head so she can look at him. Even with the circles under her eyes, the messy hair and worn out t-shirt that she’s wearing, he thinks she is the most wonderful creature he has ever seen.

“Yeah. Come take a break, yea?”

She doesn’t protest, just saves the file before moving away from the desk to the bed along with Harry. She props herself up against the headboard, a tired moan escaping her lips as her spine rests against the pillows under her back. Harry hands her the salad and she digs right into it, only just now realizing that she’s been feeling hungry for the past two hours, but ignored it entirely.

“How much do you have left?” Harry asks nodding towards the computer.

“I’m finishing up the last part, then I just have to write the abstract and then…” she explains, popping a tomato in her mouth. “It’s just gonna be the formatting. I think I’ll be done by Wednesday.”

“That’s great,” he smiles proudly. He has always admired how hardworking she’s been when it came to school and her profession. He could never imagine himself do the same, especially because he didn’t even finish high school. He used to feel a little self-conscious about it when they first started dating, afraid that she might think less of him because he didn’t finish his education properly, even though it was never something that bothered him. But Flora assured him that it makes absolutely no difference in her opinion about him.

“It’s not about the papers or how many schools you’ve finished. It’s about how you see the world and if you are willing to learn when it changes around you. And I think you are perfect in that department, your curiosity and openness makes you an excellent learner,” she told him without even thinking about it.

Harry lies on his side next to her, one hand propping his head up while the other one wanders to her thigh, massaging it gently. She hums to herself, enjoying the food he made and he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. He loves taking care of her, especially because most of the times it’s her that takes care of him. Cooking for him after a long day at the studio, putting his laundry away while he is in an online meeting or writing him a list for when he goes grocery shopping, Flora has been watching out for him through these little things, but now it’s finally his turn to give it all back.

He’s been thinking about asking her to move in with him for a few weeks now, he just hasn’t been brave enough to bring it up, thinking that she might find it too early for such a big step, seeing that the two of them have been dating for a little over nine months. He’s been playing with the thought of coming home to her every single day, waking up next to her in the mornings, watch her form his home more to her liking, creating a space for the both of them, making it a home not just for him but her as well.

As she finishes up her salad, completely oblivious to what Harry is thinking about, he decides to bring it up once she is done with her thesis, not wanting to bother her in any possible way until she is finished.

“Mm, this was lifesaving, thank you,” she sighs, leaning over she kisses him softly as her appreciation for the sweet gesture. “I’ll finish up this one paragraph I’m in the middle of and then we could watch a movie. But strictly without subs, because I’m done with words for today,” she jokes, making him laugh as he takes the empty bowl from her hands.

“Sounds good,” he nods. “I’ll clean up in the kitchen and find something to watch while you finish.”

“Thank you.” As they both get up from the bed, she pulls him down for another kiss, Harry’s free hand finding the small of her back right away. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips, his heart fluttering in his chest at the words he has heard before, but it never fails to stun him.

“I love you too. Now go, finish it so we can cuddle,” he smiles, smacking her bum gently before they let go of each other.

“Ja, pappa. Dat klinkt fantastisch. Ik zal het hem vragen. Ja.” Yes, dad. That sounds fantastic. I’ll ask him. Yes.

Harry listens to Flora talk to her father on the phone as she applies her lip balm, the one she uses every night before going to bed. He loves it when she talks in Dutch, many tend to criticize the language, but not Harry. Or maybe it’s just because he only hears Flora talk it and he loves everything she does.

“Ja, dat is goed. Dank je. Tot ziens, pappa, ik hou van je!” Yes, that’s great. Thank you. See you soon, dad, love you!

She ends the call and switches the light off in the bathroom that’s been not just Harry’s but hers since she officially moved in with him just last week. Harry finally built up the courage to ask her opinion about the possibility of living together in the near future once she was free from the worries of her research and thesis. For his biggest surprise, she was on the exact same page as him, definitely a fan of the idea. So three weeks later they started slowly moving all her stuff over to his until her apartment completely emptied out. Now all her belongings are splattered across Harry’s home, they haven’t found the perfect place for everything just yet, but it’s slowly starting to feel like home for the both of them.

“Dad called, asked if we would go over for dinner this weekend,” she tells him, moving around the bedroom as she takes her little hoop earrings off, placing them in the shell she uses as a jewelry holder on top of the dresser. She is wearing a pair of yellow sweatpants with one of Harry’s shirts, nothing underneath them, just how Harry loves it.

“It’s cute how you always tell me it was your dad, but he is the only one you speak Dutch with,” he chuckles lowly as she climbs to bed, pulling the covers over the both of them.

“It comes so naturally, I don’t even realize I’m switching languages,” she admits smiling.

“Dinner sounds lovely,” he nods, getting back to what she was talking about before.

“Arnold is bringing his girlfriend too,” she smirks, her eyes sparkling from excitement.

“Your brother has a girlfriend now?” he hums, eyebrows rising at the new information.

“It’s the girl I saw him with at his basketball game last month. They made it official like two weeks ago.”

“And he is already bringing her home? He is not beating around the bush,” he chuckles. “Is it going to be the first time the girl meets your parents?”

“Yeah, so it’s gonna be exciting,” she nods, cuddling to his side.

Flora is playing with the little cross pendant on Harry’s chest and he is watching her delicate fingers flipping it over, her fingertips tickling his chest a little in the process.

“When we have kids, will you also teach them Dutch?” he suddenly questions, the words just blurting out of his mouth. Flora lifts her head, resting her chin on his chest as she looks into his curious eyes. She stays silent, but a small smile is tugging on her lips for sure.

“What?” he asks, feeling a little nervous. It’s the first time he is bringing having kids up, but he definitely has been thinking about it, especially since she has moved in. They haven’t been dating for that long, but Harry is one hundred percent sure he is in the long run with her.

“I just… love how you said when and not if.”

“Well, it’s a question of when for me. What about you?”

“Same goes for me,” she smiles warmly. “And yes, I do want my children to speak Dutch. It’s important to my family and me as well. How does that sit with you?”

“Totally fine. In fact, I always envied kids growing up who were taught another language so early in their childhood. Would love that for my kids as well.”

“Dan is het geregeld,” she smiles widely at him.

“What’s that mean?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“I said that, then it’s settled. We’ll have some cute, bilingual babies,” she chuckles, half jokingly, half seriously.

Today has just been one of those days that were doomed from the moment Harry opened his eyes. He has been overwhelmed with stress lately, working on new music, but his studio sessions haven’t been as successful as he wanted them. He is also flying out to LA for two weeks in just a couple of days and he has to miss Flora’s mom’s birthday this weekend, which has been torturing him with guilt ever since he found out he can’t push his trip back.

This morning it felt like the universe just plotted against him. He slipped in the shower, broke a glass in the kitchen and successfully ripped one of his favorite jeans when he was getting dressed. He had a one way ticket cranky city, turning Harry into a moody little child. It didn’t take him long until he started a fight with Flora over the smallest, most ridiculous thing. It started with how Flora misplaced a bowl in the cabinet and took him two moments longer to find it than usual, then they ended up disputing about every little thing about each other they’ve been finding annoying, but neither of them voiced their feelings about them.

Flora, on the other hand, was not in the mood to argue with Harry so early on a Tuesday morning and she chose to just walk away and let him stew in his own anger. Harry knew the moment he heard the front door shut that she was mad at him: she didn’t kiss him goodbye like she does every day before she leaves.

He took a cold shower to cool him down and clear his head, get his thoughts straight so he can apologize like she deserves. Getting into his car he drives to the florist he usually goes to when he needs flowers for whatever occasions. The old lady greets him with a warm smile and upon describing what he envisioned, she immediately knows what to create for him this time. The result is a giant, colorful bouquet that reminds him of Flora in every possible means.

Driving down to her school he is met with an extreme amount of nostalgia even though it’s not even the school he went to as a kid, but it still brings back some memories.

The security guard immediately stops him when he walks into the building, but once he has explained him the situation, the old guy gladly tells him which classroom is hers so he can go and surprise her. His footsteps echo in the empty hallways as it is the middle of the second period, all students are locked up in their classrooms, lucky for Harry, because he surely can’t deal with teenage girls recognizing him right now. Holding the flowers in one hand he stops when he finds room 414 and he can hear Flora’s voice coming from inside, enthusiastically explaining something about penguins and it makes Harry smile.

Even with such a horrible morning behind her, she is still giving one hundred for her students. He brings up his hand and softly knocks on the door, interrupting her speech.

“Come in!” she calls out and Harry opens the door, popping his head inside first, then holding up the bouquet of flowers, making the kids start chattering in excitement at his arrival while Flora is staring at him shocked.

“Miss Hoven, do you have a moment for me, please?” he asks with a shy but charming smile. She quickly gains back control over her features before turning to her class.

“Please start working on task two and five, I’ll be right back,” she orders, but the chatter doesn’t die down so she raises her voice at them. “This is not how we act when we have guests, guys!”

The kids are quick to quiet themselves, eyes curiously switching between their teacher and the intruder at the door.

“Miss Hoven, is this your husband?” one of the kids, a little blond boy asks.

“No, Michael, he is not. Harry is my boyfriend,” she answers calmly, heading towards the door.

“Wait, I know him!” a girl exclaims gasping. “He sings the watermelon song!”

“Lilian, no discussion now. Do the tasks!” Flora tells her before walking out, but keeping the door open so she can hear what’s happening inside. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes wide when she finally looks at Harry again. “What’s—What’s this?”

“These are for you,” he clears his throat, handing her the bouquet. “And I came here to apologize for being such an arsehole this morning. It wasn’t your fault, I’ve just been crankier lately and I took it all out on you. I’m very sorry.”

Flora’s eyes soften on him as she takes one of his hands with her free one, giving it a squeeze.

“I said some nasty stuff too, so I guess I’m sorry too,” she sighs, her anger and frustration from earlier now long gone.

“I brought that out of you, so I’ll take the blame,” Harry chuckles softly. “But the point is that I’m sorry.”

“Well, you are forgiven. You were even before you came here,” she assures him smiling warmly. “Why don’t we order something tonight and just get lazy on the couch?”

“You said you have some tests to go through.”

“That can wait. You’re leaving in two days so I want to spend time with you.”

“So we won’t get our tests back tomorrow?” they both hear a muffled voice coming from inside and Flora chuckles shaking her head as she opens the door wider and steps inside. A small group of kids run back to their seats, but not fast enough to not get caught.

“Lilian, would you mind telling me why you left your seat without permission?” Flora questions the girl who just rolls her lips into her mouth, pretending like she hasn’t even moved all along. Flora sighs stepping outside once again. “I gotta go now, but thank you for this. They look beautiful,” she tells Harry.

“I love you,” he murmurs and leaning down he kisses her quickly, feeling like he is breaking rules even though he is not a student or a teacher here.

“I love you too,” she smiles back before walking back inside and shutting the door. Harry stays for a minute, just out of curiosity to hear if the kids ask her some more questions about him.

“Miss Hoven?” a girl calls out and Harry bets it’s the same nosy girl who recognized him.

“Yes, Lilian?”

“You have a nice boyfriend,” she exclaims, earning a soft chuckle from Flora.

“Well thank you, Lilian, but let’s get back to our new unit. Let’s see the tasks you had to solve!”

The splashing sound of vomit arriving to the toilet hits Harry’s ears once again as he is rushing up the stairs with a glass of water and the Emetrol his hands that he dug the kitchen cabinets through for. Arriving to the master bathroom he finds Flora just where he left a few minutes ago, kneeling in front of the toilet, arms on the rim as she is taking a deep breath, hoping to calm her stomach and stop throwing up finally.

“Oh baby, here. Found you some Emetrol, this should help,” he coos gently, sitting down to the marble floor next to her he places the water beside him as he pours some of the liquid medicine into the cap for her. She lifts her head, skin pale as the wall, the dark circles under her eyes make his stomach churn, he hates to see her in this condition and wishes he could just help her.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, her shaking hand takes the cup and she downs the medicine before taking a few sips from the water. “Harry, I’m so sorry for ruining our date,” she sighs in defeat.

“Oh shush. Don’t you dare apologize for being sick,” he shakes his head, putting the Emetrol aside before he towers above her to redo her hair so it doesn’t fall to her face. Today marks their one year anniversary and though they only planned to go out for a nice dinner, nothing extra, Flora still feels bad they had to cancel on their reservation when she started throwing up this afternoon. She’s been feeling nauseous ever since she ate that leftover casserole for lunch. She had a feeling she should have just gotten rid of it, but she hated wasting food so ate it. Big mistake.

Harry’s fingers delicately work on her curls, piling them on the top of her heat before he secures the bun with professional movements using the elastic he tends to wear on his wrists, just because Flora always loses hers. He likes to keep one on him as well. His long haired days trained him well, her hair is neatly kept out of her face as she frowns, feeling her stomach churning again.

“Can I do anything else for you, baby?” he gently asks, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead to make sure she doesn’t have a fever, but she feels alright. She probably just has to get rid of the bad food.

“Can you please get me a wet washcloth?” she asks faintly. Sitting to her butt she leans against the wall beside her with her eyes closed.

Harry nods and he is on his feet in a blink of an eye, grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet and wetting it in some cool water. He kneels in front of her and starts gently tapping it against her cheeks, forehead and neck, wiping off the thin layer of sweat.

“This is not how I planned to spend our anniversary,” she groans with a frown, making him chuckle.

“We agreed, the anniversary is postponed. Don’t even think about it.”

“But I wanted to look nice for you, even bought a new dress.” She pouts her lips at him, eyes opening narrowly, glistening from the tears that watered them while she was throwing up.

“You always look nice, baby,” he softly tells her, letting her take the washcloth before she places it over her forehead.

“Even now? After you saw me throw up four times? We have very different versions for the word nice, H,” she jokes with a soft chuckle and Harry is thankful to see her smile, even if it’s still very faint and tired.

“Even now, baby,” he nods smirking and he is not lying. Though the situation is saddening, Harry still enjoys taking care of her, being the one she can rely on even on her worst days.

They sit on the bathroom floor as the medicine slowly works and she finally gets rid of the urge to throw up. Then Harry scoops her up and undressing the both of them, he helps her take a nice shower before dressing her in clean clothes, tossing their dirty ones into the laundry basket, noting to do them sometime in the morning.

When Flora is settled under the cover, head comfortably sinking into the pillow, she immediately feels her eyes closing, the strenuous afternoon has successfully sucked all her energy right out of her body. Harry brings her another big glass of water for the night and just to be sure, puts a trashcan next to her side, if things go south again. When he gets under the covers she is already half asleep, but she hums when his fingertips dance down the side of her face.

He allows himself to shamelessly admire her as she finally falls completely asleep, her lips parted as she slightly snores, but she looks so peaceful, the painful frown he saw on her face all afternoon is now gone from her beautiful face. He hasn’t fully wrapped his mind around how an entire year has passed with such a wonderful creature by his side. As their anniversary was coming up, he caught himself thinking about what the future is holding for them more often. There were so many things they needed to experience together, so much to see and do as partners and Harry couldn’t wait for it all to come.

As he lies in the bed next to her, a smile tugs on his pink lips at the thought of the possibility of spending the rest of his life with Flora. His future has never seemed brighter than in that moment.

“This is harder than I thought,” Flora admits, focusing on the instrument on her lap, trying to figure out if she is holding down the accords the right way, but a moment later Harry’s hand covers hers on the neck of the guitar and he fixes her fingers on the strings until they are in the right position.

“Like this. Try it now,” he murmurs, his chin resting on her shoulders as she is standing between his legs, back leant against his chest. Flora has been begging him to teach him a few accords on the guitar and today finally brought the moment Harry would turn into her master.

The two of them are sitting on the bed, Harry only in his underwear while Flora is in one of his hoodies with only her panties covering the lower parts of her body. Harry came back from a week-long trip to New York and they haven’t left the bed too much since he set his feet inside the house, only emerging from the bedroom to fulfill their other physical needs.

Flora’s fingers strum against the strings and the instrument comes to life, giving her a clear accord finally, bringing a triumphant smile to her lips.

“You are a natural talent, baby,” he smirks, giving her hips a gentle squeeze before kissing into her neck.

“Don’t tease me, I’m trying!” she warns her playfully, playing the chord again, loving how she can create such a beautiful sound with the instrument.

“Mm, you’re coming for my career?”

“Oh, surely. I think I would make an excellent rockstar,” she nods confidently, making him laugh.

“You are so not the rockstar type. More like the chill indie singer who dances barefoot on stage.”

“Yeah, but I could spice it up a little and make it rockstar-y,” she explains and glances back at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you think I would look hot in one of your stage costumes? Sparkly suit and all?”

“Oh I know you’d look amazing,” he nods eagerly. He has spent quite some time imagining her girl in one of his suits and he quite liked the thought. Flora chuckles as he puts the guitar aside before she turns around and straddles him, her knees on each of his sides.

“Yeah? I would need a better name, mine is not too fitting for a star,” she explains. “Easy for you, your name is basically the most perfect name for a rockstar.”

“You think so?” he cocks an eyebrow at her, his palms coming to cup her bum as he tilts his head backwards since this position makes her the taller one for a change.

“Harry Styles? Oh please, it’s like Anne knew she would give birth to a legend,” she scoffs making him laugh.

“I’ve been told it’s a nice one,” he shrugs smugly. “I think it’s the surname.”

“It’s pretty cool, yeah.”

“What if you had the same? Flora Styles? Sounds pretty badass,” he suggests and at first, she doesn’t even realize the hidden meaning behind his words, tasting the name so obliviously.

“Flora Styles? You might be right, the surname sounds very cool,” she agrees and it amazes him how easily it went over her head.

“You like it?”

“Mhm,” she nods, her hand reaching for the guitar once again, but Harry stops her, taking it between his as he blindly finds her ring finger that is now ringless.

“Do you like it enough to actually take it?” he questions, hoping she would get the hint now where this is heading. She blinks at him a little puzzled but it’s until she realizes that his fingers are fidgeting with her ring finger, more specifically where a ring would sit on it, his fingertips gently caressing the skin around it.

“Harry?” she gasps with wide eyes as she just watches his grin grow wider. “This is not… Are you--?”

“What?” he chuckles, feeling entertained how she lost all her smug confidence all of a sudden. “What’s it that you’re trying to say?”

“No, what is it that you are trying to say?!” she snaps back, still in shock about what he just implied. “Was this your sneaky way of… proposing?” she asks, whispering the last word as if it was a curse word.

“Why do you act like we have a forbidden love and marriage cannot be even mentioned?” he chuckles at her.

“Because I was shocked! Not that bad now though, you haven’t pulled out a ring so I guess it was just a cruel joke.” She narrows her eyes at him, kissing his smug grin shortly, but Harry is definitely not done with her just yet.

“I wouldn’t be that sure about it, baby,” he warns her before gently pushing her off her lap to get off the bed. Flora’s eyes widen as she follows him walk to his suitcase that’s still lying on the floor next to his dresser, waiting to be unpacked. He digs under his clothes before pulling out a small velvety box, making her gasp immediately. Harry gets back on bed as he holds out the box in front of her on his palm, not opening it just yet.

“Did you buy that in New York just this week?” she asks with her mouth hung open.

“I didn’t. I’ve had it for about a month, I just took it with myself because I was afraid you’d find it,” he chuckles as he plays around with it between his fingers. “Have been planning on it for a while, but I couldn’t come up with anything so then I just decided to wait for the right moment and go with the flow,” he explains.

“And this is the right moment?” she questions, her heart beating in her throat as her gaze is switching between Harry’s green eyes and the box in his hand.

“Felt like it, yeah,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up.

Silence settles between them as they both just wrap their heads around the weight of the moment. Harry’s heart flutters in his chest, a little afraid it’s too early. They’ve been dating a little over two years now, marriages have been tied way earlier in a relationship before, but Harry feared Flora would feel it too rushed just yet, however the question is out there now. Or is it?

“Well, are you gonna ask it?” she questions and as Harry’s eyes flicker up to meet her gaze, he is met with that playful challenge in them that he adores so much.

“I just asked,” he mutters.

“No, you asked if I would take your name. That’s not a proposal,” she reminds him and he realizes she is right. He never actually asked the big question.

So he finally pops the lid open revealing the vintage diamond ring he bought a month ago when he was just out and about. The moment his eyes laid on the jewelry, he knew it’s the one he’d like to see on your finger and bought it right away.

“Floortje Hoven, will you marry me?” he simply asks, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks as he smiles widely at his lover.

“I will,” she nods, her heart hammering in her chest as she watches him take the ring out of the box and carefully put it on her once empty ring finger. Still holding her hand, he brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the ring before leaning in he connects his lips with hers.

-

Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

[jimlingss]

It's B from @bang-tan-bitches and I would like to request a yandere fic. It can be BTS OT7 x reader or BTS member of your choice x reader. Similar to your amazing isekai story i would like something similar(a long one shot or a multi-chapter, your choice). Whether YN transmigrates to a game or a novel (not as a villain but maybe as a cannon fodder side character that has little importance to the story and just wants to lay low) but YN captures the attention of the love interest(s) and shit starts getting weird, intense, uncomfortable. Maybe it causes the supposed female lead to turn into the villain, maybe it causes the love interest(s) to turn into the villain(s). Maybe YN realizes that something is wrong with the story/game but can't figure it out. Idk. Time period doesn't matter. Modern. Ancient. Fairytale. Fantasy. Whatever.

If you can do this great! If you can't or don't want to, that's okay too. You're an amazing writer with so much talent and I'm really appreciative of all your work. Thank you for taking requests from your fans, I'm sure you've received a lot.

Take care! 😘💜💜💜

at the start of the pandemic, I was getting back into manga and manhwa and then after a few months, I dawdled off but recently, I’ve been getting back into it again haha so this request came at a pretty good time. Hopefully you won’t mind that I’ve taken some creative liberties with this request lol I think it’s more fun if I keep readers on their toes, including the requester.

On another note, I really shouldn’t be writing all my isekai’s with Taehyung as the main lead but he’s just so fitting asdfghjkl

↳ The Fox Bride

2.6k || 99% Light Fluff, 1% Angst || Kim Taehyung || Isekai!AU, Slight Yandere!AU, Nine-Tailed Fox!Taehyung

You are a tutorial character.

But you weren’t always. You still remember being a career woman in the twenty-first century, struggling with overtime and paying bills while trying to keep yourself fed. The success of that ranged from month to month. But more importantly, you still remember that night too.

It was rainy. Your car blew a flat tire. You pulled to the side of the highway and got out.

The last thing that registered was the deafening honk of the semi-truck. 

Then you felt yourself flying upwards.

But when you landed, instead of colliding with the concrete and dying upon impact, you fell back onto your ass in the middle of a market on a dirt road. Transported back a thousand years ago.

Your purpose was fulfilled in the next two minutes. 

“Are you alright?”

The male protagonist had stretched out his hand and helped you up. The hero. The main character. It was obvious with his bright red hair, shining eyes and bronze armour. He was so starkly different from the rest who were gray and drab, including you who was suddenly in a brown shapeless dress. He was practically a neon billboard in the middle of a graveyard.

“Are you Y/N?”

You looked at him, befuddled that he knew your name. But before you could even respond or provide a line of dialogue, he said, “This is a delivery from Baker Jeon. He gives you his thanks.”

The protagonists handed you a loaf of bread. Undoubtedly his first ever quest. 

You looked down, not sure what to do with it.

“Do you know where the blacksmith is?”

You had absolutely no clue. But there was the deafening noise of hammering steel literally ten steps away. You would have to be blind not to see the gruff man shaping a sword at an anvil right on the road and deaf not to hear it. As if that wasn’t enough, the literal sign of the shop read: ‘the blacksmith’.

So you pointed.

“Thanks.” And he trudged off.

You were utterly confused until a background character who said they knew you waved you over. You shared your bread with her, brushed aside when she asked you what was wrong, and you followed her as she walked up to your supposed cottage.

All the while, you saw yourself in the background of the hero’s main quest as he ran through the town.

And that was that.

It wasn’t so hard to figure out where you were or what the hell this was when you put your mind to it. Without much of a job or a family, and no technology but the candle that you had to conserve when night fell, there was ample time.

So you spent it thinking and you eventually solved the mystery.

You were in Beast Boys Harem: A Forbidden Embrace. AKA. a dumb yaoi otome game app that you downloaded on your phone when you were sixteen and bored. You remember because you were too cheap to buy the routes, so you played the tutorial, prologue and read the summaries of the routes online. Now you regret that you didn’t just fork over the goddamn five dollars. 

Even more than that, you regret that you even downloaded the game in the first place.

But at least you’re just a tutorial character. You’re free from the storyline and the plot—

That’s what you thought.

Turns out living a thousand years in the past in a fantasy realm as a woman didn’t bode well. It was probably no different from how it would’ve been like in the medieval ages. You had no trade skills. No one was willing to accept you as an apprentice when you were a woman. You found that you were essentially illiterate with a reading level of a preschooler, no one was willing to teach you, and you had no power or wealth when you were without a father or a husband.

And you’re certain what the landlord and tax-collectors are doing is illegal.

But in this world, in this unjust realm, there is no such thing as the law.

“We know you’re in there!”

You jolt from the heavy pounding on the frail wooden door.

“It’s time to pay up!”

Your hands tremble as you set the candle down that’s still billowing of smoke, the flame smothered out mere seconds ago. As much as you want to hide and pull the blanket over your head, you know that door won’t last. They’ll find you if you’re trapped in here.

“If you can’t, spread those legs of yours!” a low voice spits and there’s chortling from the men.

Someone adds, “Sell your body already!” 

“Open up! Damn whore!”

Without a single possession but the white nightgown clad on your body, you open the latch of the back window. You cringe at the squeak, trying to keep your movements quiet before the door gives way.

You hoist yourself up onto the window ledge. The door bends with the strength of multiple clenched fists against it. Your feet touch the soft grass outside your cottage. The men shout.

And the door finally slams against the wall, hinges broken. 

But by then, you’ve slipped into the shadows.

“Where is she?!”

The blanket is ripped off the bed, curtains are whipped back, every drawer dumped onto the ground and cupboards yanked open. The floor shakes with the weight of their boots and you press your palm to your mouth to silence your panting breaths, slowly stepping away.

“That damn whore slipped through us—!”

But as your shitty luck would have it, a sudden crack has the whole world coming to a standstill.

Shit. You look down at your feet, realizing that the snapping noise came from you stepping on a twig. And it’s exposed your hiding place.

“There she is!” — “Out the back window!”

You grab fistfuls of your dress and bolt. 

“Get her!”

With your cottage on the edge of town, there’s nowhere to run but through the dense woods. It’s shrouded in the darkness, no doubt filled with wild beasts creeping through the thicket. The rustling canopy of the trees doesn’t allow the dim, waning moonlight to illuminate your path.

So you’re left blind. Struggling up the high incline of the forest, feet slipping on dirt and mud. But you keep sprinting with all your might, even when the pointed, coiling branches scrape at your calves until blood sheds and the hem of your dress tears in the underbrush.

“Run, little rabbit!” one of them mocks, “Run!”

The four men continue to give chase, gripping onto their roaring torches, shrieking and howling after you. One of them is manically laughing as if your efforts to flee only adds to the thrill. Their greased hands reach out to snatch you, but the tips of their fingers graze the ends of your hair.

Your teeth are sunk into the bottom of your lip, sobs breaking through your aching chest. Your lungs burn, dying for a break or moment of relief. But you don’t relent and luckily, you manage to build distance between you and the men. Only, that luck comes crashing down by a fucking hole.

A hole in the forest floor that you don’t see. That has your footing all wrong. That makes you scream and fall.

You twist your ankle in a direction it’s definitely not supposed to be in and cry from pain. 

A second later, you force yourself to get up and keep running with tears flooding your eyes and dripping down your cheeks. But it’s more like limping than running, akin to hobbling on one leg and every movement has pain shooting from your swelling ankle.

The effort becomes futile. They surround you within minutes.

“All finished?” The tax-collector’s head cocks with a spreading grin. “You’re not going to keep running?”

Why couldn’t you just fucking die the first time?! Even if it was an awful death where you didn’t have time to prepare yourself or say goodbye to anyone, at least it would’ve been the end. At least you wouldn’t have to suffer.

But there’s no time to grieve. Or hate the new life you’ve been given. This is it. You have to keep going. You have to survive. By any means. You’re about to pick up a branch and uselessly wave it around at them, shout at them to stand back. Anything that you could do to save yourself—

“Who dares come onto my mountain?!”

There’s a deep timbre behind you. A husky voice that quivers the very core of the forest.

As if the wind has swept through, the trees and thicket rustle and it goes silent.

The men fall back onto their asses, some torches clattering to the ground. Their eyes have grown double in size, nearly falling from their sockets and their jaws have dropped to the dirt.

“I-It’s the nine-tailed fox!”

The man scrambles back.

“Demon!” 

Another barely manages to get onto his feet. He turns around and lurches away while shrieking.

They all run. Scattering away as frantically as cockroaches when the light is flickered on.

From your spot on the ground, you turn around with wide eyes. 

Amber irises meet your gawking and they practically glow in the darkness of the forest. He is dressed in a loose, white robe that’s draped over his frame, open to the middle of his chest. And over his honey hair, on the top of his head, his pointed golden ears twitch. By the torch fire still yet to die out, he is illuminated and his shadow is casted on the ground. The blazing flame warms his cold, sharp features. 

He is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. In both worlds you’ve lived in.

And you know who he is.

Taehyung. One of the love interests of the hero. A seductive, sly creature that eventually coaxes the hero into selling him his soul to grant one of his wishes. But Taehyung grows to become an obsessed character that wants to do nothing but monopolize and possess the hero for himself.

That same Taehyung approaches you with his lip curled as you teeter to your feet.

“Run away, girl.” He leans close. “Before I eat you.”

“Stop!” 

On sheer instinct and adrenaline, you push him back. Your palm shoves against his firm chest.

Taehyung stumbles back with his eyes becoming rounded. He looks down to where you had made contact against his body. “Did...you just touch me?”

“What?”

Taehyung’s head darts upwards and he captures your wrist in his hand, squeezing tightly. He tugs you in and on your swollen ankle, you stumble into him. Bodies flush against one another. Your face pressed to his warm chest. His arm coming around your waist to break your fall.

He is aghast. 

“You’re not from this world.” Taehyung’s yellow eyes swirl as they gaze into you. “Where did you come from?”

…

It’s been three days.

“Wed me,” he begs for the seventy sixth time. 

You don’t know why you’re keeping a count.

“No.”

You’re hugging your knees for warmth. The rice paper-paneled doors are slid open and letting in the chilly air. He doesn’t seem to be affected by the cold, but you don’t look at him for long. 

You turn into the corner of his home while sitting on the tatami floors as if you’re putting yourself into time out. But you’d like to say it’s your privacy corner. It’s as private as this abode, which was basically one room, could get. 

Taehyung sighs in frustration, placing his hand on his forehead. His teeth grit. “You’re only making this harder for yourself.” Your silence angers him more. “You can never leave.”

You turn over your shoulder to glare. “Even if I married you, you’d never let me leave anyway.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes on you and then smirks. “You’re right. Wed or unwed, I won’t let you out of my sight. You should feel grateful, girl. You’re the best human I’ve ever treated.”

You quietly scoff.

Maybe you should feel scared. Maybe you should tread more lightly. After all, he’s not a character to be trifled with.

But you know he needs you. That alone gives you power. 

As a beast, Taehyung’s been trapped on this mountain by priests for centuries. The only way he can be free is by feeding off of sexual energy and breaking the barrier. But of course, they also cursed him to be unable to touch any woman in this universe. 

You aren’t from this universe.

You jolt when you realize that while you were lost in thought, Taehyung’s crawled closer. He has a foxy smile, amber eyes searching your expression. “Maybe….maybe I’ll grant you a bit of freedom if you would just give into the temptation and let me have a taste of you.”

As cold as he looks, he is beautiful. He is mischievous when he smirks and sly when he speaks. You are utterly spellbound as you look into his irises. And the temptation he speaks of flickers in the warmth of your belly.

But you turn away.

“I already said we only do that kind of thing after marriage. And I will only marry someone I love.”

Taehyung draws back with an unamused scoff. “What a prudish world you’re from.”

He wanted you the moment you were brought to this house. With the intensity of his stare and your captivated state, you had let him pin you to his floor and you liked it. But then clarity came and you blurted that such an act only happens after marriage. A lie just to buy time.

You didn’t expect for the hero to arrive at Taehyung’s house the next day. With his red hair and bronze armour, he had gotten lost in the forest and knocked on the door. Before you could limp over and answer it, Taehyung jumped off the roof and confronted him.

The guy was thrown off the mountain within five minutes.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to have a steamy rendezvous. Taehyung was supposed to get the sexual energy from him! 

The story was going off the rails. And you’re not sure what you’re even buying time for anymore.

The both of you know it’s only a matter of time before you break and succumb to his mesmerizing seduction.

Taehyung is cruel, ruthless, obsessive.

But what’s the most bewitching thing about him is the jarring contrast of when he’s clumsy and nurturing. It’s what he regards as his own weakness. What he hides from others. But you felt your heart waver two nights ago when you were shaken awake in the middle of twilight. When you peeked open your eye to see him gingerly wrapping your swollen ankle with bandages.

He looked beautiful in the pale moonlight, ears, tails, sharp features softened—

“Ow!” You wince as he squeezes your ankle, right on your injury.

“You think too much in your head,” he says and looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

“It hurts.”

A sadistic smile tugs on Taehyung’s lips. He lets go, but only to lift your chin with his fingers. His plush lips are inches away, his breath warm on your skin and he gazes deep into you. “I won’t let you return to your world. I won’t let you run away. I won’t let anyone harm you.”

“You’re mine now.” Taehyung swears, “You’ll fall in love with me eventually.”

You gulp and he smirks.

The two of you know it’s only a matter of time.

[moon-catto]

comfort tag game 🤍

tagged by the one and only @pearlstiare 💖

i'll just tag this one old friend of mine @sugarkookies17 ✨

PS: Pls do not reblog this post and make your own style of this! 💗

Comfort foods: anything sweet like tiramisu, souffle pancakes, crepes, and of course ✨the holy matcha dessert box✨ but i do spicy foods sometimes if i'm stressed.

Comfort beverages: vanilla latte (super sweet one), sprite, strawberry and banana milk, hot chocolate and any kind of tea beverages, also any refreshing ades.

My Comfort Songs: So Beautiful by DPR IAN, any song made by Eve, and 28 by AgustD.

My comfort stories: (movie, book, fanfic): Disney and ghibli movies, especially Howl's Moving Castle and Spirited Away. For books... maybe Pulang by Tere Liye✨ and for fanfics, i have so many fanfic tabs open on chrome but i don't remember any titles of them lol🤏 But! I can give you my favorite manhwa titles though, Sweet Home by kim carnby, Study Group by Hyungwuk Shin, Little Rain by Mai, Devil Number 4 by Jongjin and so on. You can ask me about manhwa recommendations, i will gladly give you a whole list of it! ♥

my comfort characters: Gojo Satoru, Howl, Yuuji, Izuku, and uh... i actually have a lot of comfort characters but my mind went blank while typing this.

my comfort daydreams: Shifting into anime world and actually meeting with my fav characters, spending time with them, and also badassly fight alongside with them.

my comfort memories: A silent rainy walk after school and drinking hot choco after i got home then proceeds to have a fever and spent the whole day reading webtoons secretly under my blanket, when i successfully draw my fav characters, and sightseeing the city at night.

my comfort videos: (youtube, tiktok, etc.) PlanD vlogs and kooleen drawing tutorials.

my comfort outfits: (any season): I live for black oversized sweaters on any season, literally any dark colored outfits is what i wear everyday. The black choker necklace thing, and ripped jeans is my way to go.

my comfort friends: My friends at college, my online friends including these magical friends i found on Tumblr: @pearlstiare and @sugarkookies17💞

my comfort activities: Daydreaming while listening to music, Binge watching series/dramas and reading lots of webtoon, drawing and writing, and sleeping.

my comfort objects: (stuffed animal, painting, momento): That one Gojo fan made card i got from my friend, cute keychains i bought from a bazaar, that pretty pens and mechanical pencils, my set of coloring pencils, Ice bear plushies, my phone, and the hoodie my mum bought for me.

misc. comfort things not listed above: headpats from mum, rainy and foggy day, any day off where i can laze around without having any guilt.

Tell me if you wanna be tagged!

[takethistoyourstardust]

Wondrous Tails of FFXIV - Music

(Important context; my WoL’s Echo, other than the canon ways it manifests, also manifests in being able to literally hear trial boss music. While most of the soundtrack you hear in game is non-diegetic, the trial boss music is diegetic to her and no one else. Also this is not WoLRaha; Ahrora is aroace.)

~

“Have you ever tried transcribing your songs?”

“Huh?” Ahrora looked up from her bow, examining it for any damage, Miqo’te ears flicking. “I didn’t hear you, sorry.” She re-adjusted her headband, since it slipped a bit forward with her head down. G’raha Tia has asked her the question, a fellow bow user, like her. He was the one who seemed to be the most excited to travel into the Crystal Tower, his enthusiasm seemingly only matched by Xiyu Moonfire, a Viera who Ahrora quickly claimed was her own brother. It was a bit odd, but he seemed so trusting, and he didn’t seem weirded out when she said it.

“Oh, sorry,” G’raha said, crouching down near her. “But I noticed you’re a bard, but you don’t seem to have a set list of songs you sing when you’re barding. Maybe if you wrote them down, you’d be able to remember them better, and you’d be able to fight better.”

Ahrora raised her eyebrow at him. “It’s not a bad idea, but I… don’t know how to write. Not very well, anyways.” It was a bit embarrassing to admit, especially when she could very clearly see the Archon marks on the side of his neck, proving he was much, much smarter than her. But while she had a basic understanding of reading, and had learned to read at a much higher level thanks to her dad, and she could at least write her name, she had no real reason to learn how to write.

“Oh,” G’raha said simply, looking down. He seemed to be thinking about how to change the subject.

“No, don’t feel weird about it,” Ahrora shrugged. “I just don’t know how. I mean, I can write my name, but that won’t help with writing down the music I hear.”

“Well, maybe when you have some free time, you can teach yourself how to write sheet music, at least.” G’raha said. “I could even help you!”

“You seem really insistent about this…” Ahrora said, smiling a bit warily. “Do you like writing your own music?”

“Ah, well,” G’raha started, “I don’t always, but sometimes, I’ll overhear Xiyu singing, and I’ll write it down, if only a little bit of it. He gets a little embarrassed by it, but he’s such a good singer, I can’t help it.” He was blushing a bit.

“Maybe he should be a bard, too,” Ahrora said.

“Maybe,” G’raha smiled. “But I can show you how to write the sheet music once we finish exploring all the secrets the Tower holds for us!”

“I’ll hold you to that!”

–

The candlelight of her inn room was surprisingly bright, even this late at night. Ishgard’s winds were howling, blowing snow against her window, but Ahrora didn’t notice it, or it at least didn’t distract her. She plucked a few strings on the small lyre she had been gifted by Jehantel, humming a note to see if she matched it to the string’s note. When she was satisfied with the match, she jotted it down on the paper. She pushed her hair out of her eyes on instinct, despite her hair being much shorter now, not even touching her shoulders.

G’raha had only given her the most basic tutorial on how to write her own sheet music. To be fair, he was a very good teacher, and she was able to grasp the fundamentals. But he had decided to leave a deeper dive for later, not elaborating that “later” would be “when he woke up from his sleep in the Tower, which might not even be within her lifetime”. Xiyu seemed to be the most devastated by G’raha choosing to seal himself in the Tower, but G’raha had promised that he’d see him again. Considering Viera lifespans, she didn’t doubt that G’raha was being absolutely serious about that. But again, that was not occupying her mind as she read what she had written down, playing along with the lyre.

“These voices telling me let it go… Let it all go… I try and try but I can’t say no… Try and say no… This endless nightmare has just become… Nowhere to run… My heart is dragging me down into…”

She sighed. It was much slower than the song she heard fighting Shiva. The guitar she had heard, that was a much harder sound than any guitar she had heard. Still, she wanted to get this song down, if only to understand Ysayle a little bit more. She plucked a few more notes on her lyre, and sang those last few notes as she wrote them down.

“Oblivion…”

–

It was a quiet night in the Crystarium, a rarity in recent days. With the permanent return of night, even with a few days having passed, people were still celebrating it. Even from her suite in the Pendants, she could hear the people cheering to the return of the moon. But tonight, the one night she didn’t want to sleep, everyone else seemed to. So, to hopefully not disturb anyone, she had retreated to the highest place she could think of, the watchtower near the rookery. It wasn’t her first choice, but it was the quietest choice. Now, sat up here, with her lyre in hand, she sang to the stars;

“La la la la la, lying lost in thought, Do you love me not? Follow these Petals cast aloft, la la la la la, Will you, when I’m gone, remember me?”

The notes on the lyre were light, but Ahrora’s own voice was dark. She felt it was the only way to honor the Lightwarden’s song, and the pixies in general; playful, yet dangerous to those who didn’t know better. She wasn’t a bard anymore, not in combat; when she was in Doma, she had come across the art of dancing, and had since traded in her bow for a pair of chakrams. Still, she found comfort in singing, in playing her lyre, even if it was to no one but herself. She was so focused on the song, that she didn’t hear footsteps behind her. She wasn’t even aware anyone was behind her until he spoke.

“And here I thought you had abandoned barding, Ahrora Xue.”

Ahrora had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. “You don’t have to address me so formally anymore, G’raha,” she said, turning around. The Crystal Exarch, G’raha Tia, had come up to see her. She was vaguely aware he didn’t need sleep, but she still felt the urge to ask why he was up so late.

“It’s a habit now, I’m sorry,” he said, walking up near her, but not sitting down. “Is that a song you wrote.”

“A song I wrote down, yes,” she said. “It’s Titania’s song… the former Titania’s, rather.” She stood up, holding onto her lyre tightly. “I’m not sure of the name yet… I’ll come up with it later, though.”

“I see,” he said, looking down at the lyre. “I’m sorry I abandoned our promise to teach you how to write sheet music, but you seem to be doing quite well on your own.”

“You didn’t, though,” she said, cocking her head to the side, her braid falling a bit quicker than the rest of her somewhat choppy hair. “You made good on your promise, remember? You taught me the basics, which was enough. So don’t worry about it, okay? Not after… everything.” Indeed, the events of nearly turning into a Lightwarden herself in front of a man who seemed so full of hatred that she was turning, despite absolutely encouraging it, was extremely fresh in her mind, as were the marble scars on the back of her legs, hidden by her jeans.

G’raha seemed to be quiet for a moment. “I… hadn’t forgotten I taught you the fundamentals. But I had promised-”

“You didn’t promise to teach me more than the basics, just that you were saving other lessons for later,” She shrugged. “It’s not ‘later’ yet, but if it makes you feel better, you can still teach me. I’m sure my sheets are only really legible to me and me alone.” Ahrora smiled, and G’raha, for the first time in a couple of days, returned her smile.

“I believe I can make time to do just that.”

[may-shepard]

Supernatural and Me, Painting With What I Hope Will Be Gradually Increasing Skill 1x02: Wendigo

I feel like I didn’t apologise sufficiently in my previous post to anyone associated with petrykivka as an art form. I am but a humble aspirer to painting cute flowers on my cupboards, and may creep back off into the cowardly stencil option if this proves fruitless, har har, that’s a joke because a lot of petrykivka features fruit:

via Unknown Ukraine

2m: Hey there’s Cory Monteith! I didn’t know he was in this episode!

Oh.

Also I have to admit, at this time of posting this I’ve watched ahead to Dead in the Water (1x03) and I know that there is a Bathtub Incident in that episode, and here we have Dude Peeing and Things Not Going Well, I seriously think there’s a theme here.

It’s either Basic Bodily Functions and Self-Care Are Potentially Deadly or Don’t Read Joseph Campbell in the Woods:

Because

I know myself well enough to know that I’m going to end up finding Sam and Dean’s relationship endearing, so I’m giving myself full permission to be all in because Dean asks Sam if he wants to drive the car which means he’s really worried about him. Believe me when I say I’m fully prepared to believe that these are the facial expressions of two dudes who really care about each other:

After last time, I decided to ditch the chalk paint and go direct to the acrylics, because yikes. Tonight’s palette is purple, blue, and pink, with a skootch of yellow, which hahaha I am howling because when I chose them I did not take in the fact that these are the colours of bi pride (plus yellow, idk man, sunshine?). I’m so bi it just leaches out through my aesthetics 24/7, hey, that’s what Dean said amirite?

I’m practicing putting together the techniques I was practicing last time into some kind of vague flower shape which is maybe supposed to look like this, ish (also LOL even this tutorial is bi af, what the hell):

15m Ayyyyy Callum Keith Rennie is in this episode! Nvm Battlestar Galactica have you seen Hard Core Logo?

There are some good thoughts about Callum Keith Rennie here. 

28m okay but I love it as a horror trope when the Thing that’s Out There emulates the voice of a human who’s scared or in pain or is screaming for help, so this is awesome. (If you’re into that trope too, there’s a very good version of it in Annihilation, one of the best horror movies of the past decade, which pairs beautifully with Midsommar for being pastel-coloured but still dreadful in all the best ways.) 

This flower is turning out better than any of my others so far:

How do we feel about native monsters being used in mainstream, non-Native-made horror? It gives me a yikes-y feeling, especially when the interpretation of the monster is essentially a nosferatu crossed with a grizzly bear, but wendigo’s interesting if you dig a bit. The most terrifying read on it I’m aware of is Columbus and Other Cannibals: The Wetiko Disease of Exploitation, Imperialism, and Terrorism by Jack D. Forbes, who wrote:

CANNIBALS is focused upon my use of the Native American concept of the “Wetiko” psychosis, the disease of cannibalism. I believe that the exploitative consumption of the earth, the living creatures of the earth, and, above all, other human beings and their homelands, constitute actual, real, unmitigated cannibalism. Tragically, the cannibalism of which I write has become more and more an acceptable part of modern economic and personal exploitation, with those who do the consuming giving little or no thought to the diminishing or even elimination of the lives of those at the receiving end of their quest for profit and super-sustenance.

More here if you’re interested. 

33m Dean as damsel in distress, I like it! Does this happen a lot?

34m:

Extremely toxic material much like life under imperialist capitalism, yeah? “Do Not Enter” I mean, if only we could exit!

37m “Check it out: flareguns.” 

“Those will work.”

Use the flaregun of your passion for justice and / or literal flareguns, either will do against the cannibalistic impulse that drives capitalism, I guess.

All of a sudden I’m liking this episode. Also make your own joke here about failing to hydrate or w/e.

Potential deep veins for later on: the idea that Sam and Dean’s family is totally screwed, but they can help these orphans have a happy ending, so sweet? I like it as a motivation. Also do all the guest star women kiss Dean on the lips at the end of each episode? Hm.

I didn’t go much further with this flower, since I felt as though some of the detail work was beyond me and the potential to fuck it up was high, but I did use the last of my rapidly drying paint to do a pic of the monster from this episode. I didn’t want to blow him up all over and I wasn’t sure the colours I had to work with would make a good splosion, so I gave him a weird flower instead that magically made him super happy. (Picture him exploding with joy in a moment, if you’d still like him blown up, or idk gleefully embracing a better standard of behaviour than compulsive people-eating.)

For good or for ill this post is part of a series:

1x01

[hazelnats]

yall mind if i write my every thought here bc i dont want to get out of bed get my journal and turn on the light ? thank yew... so this year has really pushed me down the stairs and posted a tiktok about it...... its been so hard ㅠ_ㅠ like if im magikarp i really hope i come out of this a gyarados yes i had to google that and its the big water dragon if u dont know.... currently watching howls moving castle sobbing it is diy therapy night... tutorial up at 3pm EST ...