#i loved rose so much . she was SO cool to me . i feel like basil was somewhat inspired by her actually now that i think ab it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

keerishima · 3 years

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HELLO! I saw you were a new blog that needed requests and I was wondering if you could write head-canons for todoroki, bakugou, and kiri (separately) with a s/o that has a witchcraft quirk? TY

well hi! thank you for the request, it was so cool to write! now i’m assuming you mean like a quirk that works like potions and herbs/crystals and spirit summoning and spells which is the road i’m taking i hope that’s okay?

now this boy is

excited

when he first saw the mist swirling around your fingers as you fought the robots in the UA exam, a shock went through his body

what was that?

okay he didn’t mean to stare- considering he was in the middle of an exam- but the way you moved and the glints of a crystals around your body was just so cool

time passed and he got closer to you, during the dorm competition your room was the only room he wanted to see and boy did he love it

the green ivy and plants in your room, the pots and white smoke curling from diffusers and shelves full of powder and inks organised in a neat row

your room felt like a whole new world- like magic

literally after everyone had left he was still in your room looking around like a meerkat assessing it’s surroundings

fast forward; you guys are dating and he was VERY curious as to how your quirk worked, and you explained how your spells and energy came from the crystals and jewels

each crystal gave you a different energy, which converted to your power!

kirishima literally watched in awe as you pointed at all the different coloured gems and jewels and the symbols on your walls

he even asked to touch some of them and asked where you got them

he also asked to see them in battle, and asked if you had any similar to his own quirk!

the both of you engaged in LOTS of different mock battles, which almost always ended up in a play fight rather than real training- just because he ends up enjoying watching you use your quirk too much to actually focus

once you two had engaged in a long, breathless make out session against one of the walls- what can I say? you wanted to see what it felt like to kiss kirishima in his red riot form and have him melt back to normal under your touch

yeahh...it was a bad idea to do that in the school gym, where half of class 1-B caught you two mushed together against a wall

back to the hc!

he asks SO many questions

sometimes just sits on your bed for ages and asks one after the other after the other, to the point where aizawa has to come and send him back to his side of the dorm

let me tell you now: if you are 1) planning to get anything or 2) NEED anything, don’t let him find out

you once let it slip that you were considering getting pouches to carry these crystals, and the sweet, sweet boy went out and bought BUCKETS of bags

yes buckets because he didn’t know if your crystals would be affected by material or size of the bag or- god forbid what if it did and he ruined your quirk in battle?!

he’d never forgive himself.

ever.

like literally he’d be on his knees ready for punishment of how you saw fit because of his mistake

what can i say? the boys dramatic

but its endearing :,)

it ended up being the cutest date of you cuddled up on his bed wrapped in his blankets like you were drowning in them,

whilst he sat on the floor, presenting each little bag and pouch to you, all teleshopping style.

‘and THIS 🤩 gorgeous article comes with not just 1😱! not just 2 😱! but THREE 🤯🥵🥳🥳 buttons to clip close to ensure a tight, secure hold of your 😏 special package’

yeah he made a sleazy face

yeah you threw a plushy at him

all of them were bought with your costume in mind and how could you not keep some of the bags? with kirishima watching you with the biggest eyes and slightly-pouting-lips-but-he-would-never-admit-it there was no way you didn’t keep the most useful ones

you asked him to return the extra bags so he wouldn’t have wasted his money, whilst you repaid his kindness with lots and lots of kisses and cuddles

;) or more depending on how you want it

todoroki is uhh...

emotionally constipated

but thats not his fault

#fuckendeavour

sometimes it comes off that he’s not interested in your quirk in a general sense, but it’s only because he doesn’t know how to ask without seeming pushy

he gets shy (but doesn’t show it) but with time that decreases to a sort of dry affection

i’m not saying he’s a dry boyfriend but he definitely isn't as spritely as someone like Denki might be

the way you’d see that he wanted to know more was if he asked you to come and fight with him, train with him and study

this is where he asked about your quirk

he didn’t ask to the extent of kirishima, who said everything that came to mind, he asked precise questions that gave him all the information he was desperate to know because you are so cool it makes his heart burn needed

and he also knew you would add more information as you explained, which he loved because he loved hearing you talk so passionately

this time your quirk allowed you to control people to an extent, depending on different plants and herbs you used

the plants each had a special line, muttered as you dropped the herbs anywhere on your opponent for it to activate

best believe todoroki asked for one to knock endeavour out, literally out of nowhere💀

once, one night you had been laying on your bed, and todoroki had popped over to see you. it was still quite early on in your relationship so you weren’t expecting him to cuddle up beside you and tuck into your smaller body, chin hooked onto your shoulder whilst his eyes bore into yours from below todoroki loves eye contact

‘Do your plants have meanings?’

that’s it, that’s all he softly whispered in your ear

‘What do you mean?’ You whispered back

‘Like...like roses mean love...do your herbs have a meaning linked to what they do?’

okay now he was blushing, very gently because he didn’t want to annoy you, or ask you a question you’d never thought of and make you feel silly or insecure about his quirk

YOU on the other hand were smothering a dopey grin. you knew your boyfriend and his boundaries, and you knew that him asking you in such an intimate setting meant he was trying hard for you

you also knew that he’d just given you free reign to ramble however you saw fit

so you explained, how each herb did this, how if you mixed them they did that, if you made a liquid infused with them it helped with your application in battle and so much more

todoroki listened silently, but his eyes were gleaming

literally glowing in the darkness- I mean was that even possible? it had to have been considering how todoroki looked at you that night

after you were done, he replied with a similar thing about his own quirk, and both of you had a long long chat that went from quirks, to schooling, to life, to aliens and more

todoroki had the weirdest humour, he never knew he was being funny until your quiet giggles morphed into full blown laughter- and caused a knock from the next room over because you were being too loud

he would let out his own little chuckles and smirks, seeing you enjoy his company so much

it was a while after that day when something new happened

you’d sent him a message, whilst he was sitting right next to you, and your contact name flashed on his screen suddenly, catching your eye

‘my calendula’

you looked at todoroki

todoroki looked at you

you both blinked

‘calendula?’ you asked

‘yes’ todoroki replied

‘why calendula?’

‘because,’ todoroki blushed deeply, eyes flickering away from yours

‘because you said calendula means joy...you’re my joy. arent you?’

and god help anyone who tries to say you aren’t todoroki’s joy

because you would literally throw them to the ground

your heart soared at how todoroki loved you and your quirk so much

even though it wasn’t blatantly obvious, it was the little things he did for you 😍

he originally going to call you his basil until Bakugou came round behind him asking him if he was writing the dorms grocery list. safe to say that plan was aborted immediately :D

oho

sorry I just

*pfft*

bakugo amuses me, he really does he’s so entertaining

okay sorry back to the headcanon

I headcanon you’re REALLY strong

like STUPID strong

Remember bakugos reactions to all the students quirks and he was like ‘shit I cant beat them 😨’

And his reaction to todoroki? yeah he’d literally see you use your quirk and just

no I’m joking

but I feel like as your s/o he’d be super obsessed with your quirk

he’d always want to train with you, he’d see it as an amazing part of you that he wants to help hone so you can be the best of the best

not better than him obviously but the best anyway

not that he’d SHOW all of this awe and pride to you, it’s normally delivered in a bunch of bakugo sentences:

‘oi your form is shit. do this instead.’

that means he’s realised a new way you can throw this punch, with much more force

‘tch, go train. you need the training.’

he wants to train with you. again.

‘....finally. took you long enough to learn that.’

you’ve just done something successfully and he’s trying so hard not to blush at how well you did it.

here your power is more destructive

you can create sigils using a your finger in the air and they create attack power

this with bakugos quirk makes a formidable duo, and if he doesn’t get partnered with you he will most likely throw a fit

but not a long fit more of a like ‘oi why is she over there we work better together’

but he realises as heroes you need to work well with anyone you meet, so he’s not too fussy

because of the fact that you draw the sigils, you have a habit of tracing out patterns and new symbols and any sort of designs subconsciously

this is done normally on any part of your skin, with a pen

bakugo being old man bakugo 🙄 got mad at you

he told you off for almost giving yourself ink poisoning and ruining your hand and making it all dirty drama queen

but throughout all of this bakugo had been clutching your hand, and best believe he wasn’t letting go

he used the hand he was holding to pull you along and sit comfortably, dropping his own palm into your lap and mumbling something that kind of, sort of, might have been along the lines of ‘use my arm dumbass’

now you had bakugos arm to scribble on to your hearts content.

you used this when you were stressed, worried that your nerves were causing you to forget things or simply because you wanted to hold bakugo close

in fact, bakugo himself had adopted this habit, and you’ll notice I said arm instead of hand

bakugo got nervous around you, and therefore sweaty, which therefore lead to tiny little explosions in his palms when you were near

but this habit had started to make him feel comfortable with his hands around you, it made him trust himself more

he knew his power was strong and he didn’t want to hurt you, your quirk was something that helped him with that

and he wouldn’t tell you that but he was grateful. VERY grateful

he once asked why you used pen, and not your finger on your skin considering the pen ink is toxic

you answered very quickly, by pulling out a sheet of people and sliding your finger across the surface in a sigil shape

promptly the paper burnt into a cinder :)

and bakugo never asked again

and that is the end! I hope you liked it and I did the idea of Witchcraft justice 😅 please do send some more requests!

god I loved this so much they’re all so cute :,) thank you for this request!!

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juviin · 4 years

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Here’s literally all the rosie lore.

(template 1) (template 2)

Name: Rosemary Nare Etana Alias: Ro, Rose, Rosie Personality: Rosemary is very open about her emotions. She takes a while to warm up to people, but when she does, she loves people very strongly. Relatives: Father (estranged), Mother (deceased), 4 older siblings, 2 younger siblings. Status: Alive Species: Human Gender: cis female Age: 19 Eyes: Gold Hair: Pink Appearance: Rosemary is 5′5 and has short pink hair. She has two scars, one along her back and one on her lower right abdomen. She also has a tattoo on her calf of a lily. Birthday: July 30th Constellation: Leo Height: 5′5″ or 165 cm Blood Type: O Occupation: Magic Knight -Squad: Black Bulls Country: Clover Affinity: Lava Magic (On a scale of 0-10: 0 being terrible and 10 being the best) Physical Strength 5/10 Magic Amount 7/10 Magic Control 9/10 Magic Sensing 6/10 Cleverness 9/10 Growth 8/10 Equipment: none

(this next one is all in first person which i am NOT used to writing in but...)

Part 1: The Basics

What is your full name?--Rosemary Nare Etana

Where and when were you born?--I was born on July 30th in a large city in the Common Realm, however we moved to a small town shortly after I was born.

Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)--

Lily Etana was my mother’s name. She worked several jobs while raising us, like waitressing and being a maid. She was very kind too, but a lot of people took advantage of her for that. I guess that’s why Val and I have taken to being aggressive about how we feel, and aggressive in sticking up for her. When I was 12, an assassin killed her and gave me the scar across my back. I’m sure he was sent by my grandparents, but they played the fool and even sent an advisor to her funeral. Since then, that advisor has scheduled meetings with me monthly to make sure I haven’t told anyone.

My father’s name is Andranik Typhos the fourth? something like that, but I don’t know very much about him. I know he’s a noble, but I’ve never met him. I don’t hear that many complaints about him, and Mother says he was a wonderful gentleman, but I’ve met his parents, and I find it hard to believe that they would raise a lovely son.

Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?--I have four! On my mom’s side, at least.

Valerian is the oldest. He’s sixteen years older than me, so he’s a lot more mature than me, and very protective of us younger siblings. He has three kids, too, and his wife is Eli’s cousin. They have been married since I was only three, so she’s been in our lives forever. The two of them basically became my parents after our mother died, so I couldn’t be more grateful to them.

Then is Dahlia. Dahlia is 12 years older than me. She’s very calm, and there have been more than a few times where Valerian has been freaking out and Dahlia always keeps her cool and fixes the problem. She’s the best at makeup.

Basil is in the direct middle, and they’re 9 years older than me. They are very energetic and mischievous. I don’t think Basil wants a spouse, but they’re very dedicated to their craft. I blame them for the multiple scams of my father’s estate, but who’s complaining? Basil also has a scar along their right cheek, running from their nose to their chin

Azalea is the closest to my age, she’s 25. She’s a lot like our mom. She treats everyone with kindness, but I worry about people taking advantage of her for that.

Also, I know that my father has two children younger than me with his wife, but I’ve never met them and I probably never will.

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.--I live with the Black Bulls! The base is really crazy and always changing, but there’s always something going on, so everyday is fun.

What is your occupation?--I’m a Magic Knight, but I have also worked some other jobs in the past.

Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks--I’m 5′5, and around 150lbs. My skin is pale, so I tend to burn very easily, and my eyes are yellow and my hair is pink. I like to wear warm colors and clothes that aren’t very tight, as well as boots. I have two large scars, one is about three inches and is a slash along my stomach, while the other one is about eight inches long and runs across my upper back, both from assassination attempts. I try to hide both of them. I also have one tattoo on my lower calf, so it’s usually covered.

To which social class do you belong?--I believe I’m considered a commoner. I likely wouldn’t be considered a noble unless something happened to my father’s legitimate children, though I have no interest in being taken in by his family.

Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?—I get nosebleeds often because of an injury when i was younger.

Are you right- or left-handed?—right handed

What does your voice sound like?—If I had to describe it, I’d say it’s medium in pitch and kind of airy.

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?--nothing particularly?

What do you have in your pockets?—um. a handful of flowers, a pocket watch, and assorted candies.

Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?—I sometimes bite my nails.

Part 2: Growing Up

How would you describe your childhood in general?--Average for the most part, I’d say. I had a loving mother and 4 great siblings. Still, my mother’s death hit all of us very hard.

What is your earliest memory?--Sadly, my first assassination attempt. That one was when I was around five and it was sent by my father’s family. It gave me the scar on my stomach, and also gave Basil the scar on their face from them protecting me.

How much schooling have you had?--I went to the small schoolhouse in town up until I was 12, and then I started going less so I could work more.

Did you enjoy school?--I enjoyed learning, but I’ve found that I learn more outside of school.

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?--I learned basic first aid and how to identify certain plants and herbs from my siblings. I mostly learned battle from experience and assassins.

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.—my siblings, especially Basil

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?--We all got along very well as kids, though they were all a lot older than me so that did strain our relationships a bit, especially as the youngest.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?--As a child I wanted to work in medicine, even though my magic is ill suited for it. I only decided that I wanted to become a Magic Knight after my mother’s death.

As a child, what were your favorite activities?—i used to love helping my mother garden.

As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?--I cried a lot more than I do now. I was always scared, as I knew from a young age that my father’s parents wanted me dead.

As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?--My only friend was really Eli, but she hung out with all the kids from town, so i vaguely knew them.

When and with whom was your first kiss?--also Eli, when we were about 12 and 13.

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?--I’m not. After Eli left town I kind of lost myself for the next two years until I became a knight.

Part 3: Past Influences

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?--My mother's death perhaps?

Who has had the most influence on you?--Eli. I think if not for her, I would be a very different person.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?--The amount of nobles I’ve insulted to their faces on official magic knight business.

What is your greatest regret?--being born.

What is the most evil thing you have ever done?--I don’t think I’ve ever done anything “evil”, only some malicious things, but I don’t regret them.

Do you have a criminal record of any kind?--No, but I probably should for extortion.

When was the time you were the most frightened?--The first attempt on my life.

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?--My elder brother catching me lying about my profession.

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?—i would be stronger.

What is your best memory?—probably the first few months with the black bulls. It was genuine happiness for the first time in a while.

What is your worst memory?—the aftermath of my mother’s death. I don’t remember the actual event, some mix of trauma and head injuries, but I do remember the weeks following.

Part 4: Beliefs And Opinions

Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?—i think i’m more pessimistic, but i'm trying to be an optimist.

What is your greatest fear?--My greatest fear is once again being too weak to protect the people that I love.

What are your religious views?--I’m not religious.

What are your political views?--I think that the Clover Kingdom’s nobility is corrupt, and the whole system needs to be fixed.

What are your views on sex?--I think nothing much of it.

Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?--I think I’m a hypocrite on this. I think killing is unacceptable, but I wouldn’t hesitate to kill the people that harm the ones I love.

In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do?--In my opinion, the most evil thing one can do is to habitually hurt and abuse others.

Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?--No. I don’t think that anything like that is real.

What do you believe makes a successful life?--I think that money plays a large part of success.

How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?--Very open. My emotions are very easily read.

Do you have any biases or prejudices?--Yeah i hate nobles.

Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?--I try to stay out of the public eye as best I can. I also refuse to do jobs near my grandparents’ home.

Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)?--Finral or Eli. I’d do anything for them.

Part 5: Relationships With Others

In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?—I try to keep people at a distance, but when I become close to someone, they become one of my People. I’d do anything for the people I’m close to.

Who is the most important person in your life, and why?--Right now, it’s probably Eli or Finral. They’ve positively affected me in more ways than I can count.

Who is the person you respect the most, and why?—Captain Yami is the person I respect the most. Joining the Black Bulls changed my life so much for the better, and I’m so grateful that he gave me that opportunity.

Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people—Eli is my best friend. She’s loud and always smiling, but I worry about her. I’m also pretty close to Magna. He’s a great friend and brings out my mischievous side more.

Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person.--Finral is great. He’s a little goofy, but he is very loyal and loving.

Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened.--I think I’m in love right now.

How close are you to your family?--I’m very close to my older siblings.

Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not?--No. I think I’d like to at some point be a mother, but not for a while longer.

Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?--I think I would find it hard to turn to anyone, but if I was so desperate, probably Eli or Magna. I’m too afraid to show Finral my weakness.

Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why?--No. I need to be strong enough to protect myself.

If you died or went missing, who would miss you?--I think that the bulls would.

Who is the person you despise the most, and why?--My father. My mother spoke kindly of him, but he abandoned her.

Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?--I argue more.

Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations?—depends who I'm with, but I’m more likely to take a leadership role.

Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not?—I’d prefer a smaller group, personally, but i’m not bad with large groups.

Do you care what others think of you?—yes. immensely

Part 6: Likes And Dislikes

What is/are your favorite hobbies and pastimes?--I enjoy reading romance novels, and spending time in nature. Flower fields remind me of home and give me comfort.

What is your most treasured possession?—my pocket watch. my mother gave it to me, since it was a gift to her from my father.

What is your favorite color?—i like warm pale yellow

What is your favorite food?—I like crepes!

What, if anything, do you like to read?—I like to read romance.

What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)?--I enjoy reading. On days off, I often spend hours at a time sitting outside and reading.

Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit?—I generally don’t, but I will drink sometimes. I probably drink an average amount.

How do you spend a typical Saturday night?—generally hanging around the Bulls hideout. If I have a day off I often go visit home to see my mother’s grave and give her flowers.

What makes you laugh?—My squadmates! I’ve been told my sense of humor is bad..

What, if anything, shocks or offends you?--I hate the prejudices of the Clover nobles.

What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself?—When that happens (because it has before) I will usually walk around the base, sometimes I eat a snack. I also like to head outside and look at the stars when I can’t sleep.

How do you deal with stress?—I will usually end up letting it out, whether emotionally or magically. I don't like to bottle things up.

Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan?—I prefer having a plan.

What are your pet peeves?—people talking over others.

Part 7: Self Images And Etc.

Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted?--I wake up at about 7 every morning, and get ready for the day. If I have a mission, I’ll leave for it early. On days I don’t have a mission, I will either go visit my mother’s grave or go see my grandparents or their advisor.

What is your greatest strength as a person?--I’d say my strength is supporting people. And also throwing lava.

What is your greatest weakness?--I lie a bit too much, and I am a bit indifferent towards people I don’t care about.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?--I would want to be more caring.

Are you generally introverted or extroverted?--I’d say introvert.

Are you generally organized or messy?--Organized. I don’t like disorder.

Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.--I’m good at lying, cleaning, and fighting. I’m bad at controlling my emotions, sewing, and cooking.

Do you like yourself?--No, I really don’t.

What are your reasons for being a magic knight*? Are your real reasons for doing this different than the ones you tell people in public? (If so, detail both sets of reasons…)--I am a magic knight because I want to protect people.

What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime?--I want to heal from my past.

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?--I hope to still be a Magic Knight, and hopefully a higher rank.

If you could choose, how would you want to die?--I would want to die swiftly if I could choose.

If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.--I would try to isolate myself from the people I love, so that they wouldn’t have to deal with grief. I think I would generally be calm.

What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death?--I want to be remembered for my strength.

What three words best describe your personality?--open. loyal. decisive.

What three words would others probably use to describe you?--Rosie is loyal, smart, and loving!!-Eli

#black clover #black clover oc #bc oc #oc rosemary #my art #fhdjksfhk this took so LONG im dying jim #im also doing this Whole thing for eli but shes nowhere near done yet #nini ocs

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harlot-of-oblivion · 5 years

Text

A Rose of Unconscious Beauty (Part 6)

All work and no play make Dante a dull devil, but when he finds out about his brother's flowery friend he sees an opportunity to cure his boredom. Well, that and his curiosity about what kind of woman catches Vergil's attention. So, he decides to spontaneously visit your garden to see what all the buzz is about.

Hope you enjoy these two finally meeting! And gardening puns...just all the gardening puns. 😆❤

Here’s the link to the list of all the flowers featured in this part. 🌹🥰🌹

Chapter 1: Meeting Dante

Life has been pretty good for Dante since he got back from his little foray into hell. He may still be in quite a bit of debt, but that never stops him from living life to the fullest. For the first time in a long time he does not feel so alone in the Devil May Cry shop. There is just one problem that plagues him now as he leans back in his chair, feet propped up on the edge of his desk as a huge overdrawn yawn escapes his mouth…

He is bored.

Very, very…BORED.

The occasional odd job usually keeps him entertained, but business has been slow recently. There is only so much games of pool and swimsuit magazines before Dante is positively itching to fight something…anything. Nero has taken advantage of this dry spell and is finally getting hitched to Kyrie. Even Vergil, who he annoys into fighting sometimes just for sheer fact that it relieves his boredom for a while, has taken to disappearing from time to time.

Oh yeaaaaah. The mysterious flowery friend.

Dante ponders the potential of that whole situation giving him something to do besides sitting alone in his shop. He did not think it strange when Vergil started to go out more…in fact, he is proud that his brother is finally embracing his humanity and making this world his home. But when his cranky brother came back to the shop with pretty little blue flowers wrapped around his beloved Yamato…well, now that just piqued his curiosity. He tries to goad Vergil into telling him where he got the flowers or where he has been disappearing off to lately, but that conversation usually ends with him being stabbed a lot. Dante got his answer one day when Nero asks if he knew this florist that his old man just recommended to him. It all just suddenly clicked. The constant visits, the soft cloud nine smiles, just the overall secrecy…

Vergil…has a crush.

Just the idea of his brother being head over heels for someone has Dante shaking his head in wonder. Vergil has already left the shop, probably visiting his florist friend if Dante had to guess. It happens to be the day that Nero and Kyrie are supposed to meet their savior of flowers. He wanted to tag along to see what all the hype is about, but Nero absolutely refused to let him. Usually, that is not enough to deter Dante, but then his nephew just had to sick Kyrie on him. And how could anyone say no to her? So, here he sits…extremely bored and very curious.

I have to know if it’s true…if my dumbass brother really is lovestruck…

A sudden idea pops into Dante’s head as he takes out his cellphone and begins to text:

Dante: Hey! Gonna see your old mans flower girl today, amiright?

Nero: NO. Forget it.

Nero: Im not spying 4 u

Dante: NO ONE said ANYTHING about spying!

Dante: Just a couple of pics!

Nero: NO U CREEP

Dante: OH C’MON!!!

Dante taps on his screen vigorously as he provokes his stubborn nephew to reply, but after a few minutes of continued silence he gives up. He rolls his eyes as he groans in mild irritation and drops his phone onto the desk. His nimble fingers stroke his scruffy chin in thought, wondering if there will ever be an end to this torturous boredom…then it hits him faster than the Devil May Cry van. Nico! Dante snaps his fingers and nods his head in approval at his own ingenious idea. He snatches his phone back up and begins to text again:

Dante: Heyyyyyyy

Nico: Wat

Dante: Wanna help a friend out?

Nico: Lemme guess

Nico: U want me to spy for ya, right?

Dante: A couple of pics is NOT spying

Nico: Yeah yeah whatever

There is a long pause and Dante almost thinks his last-ditch effort is a bust. Until…

Nico: Mayyyyybe I’ll do it

Nico: Wats in it for me tho?

Dante only has to think about her prize for second before replying.

Dante: I’ll let you check out my guns

Nico: Ive already seen my fair share of muscles

Dante: Im talking about Ebony and Ivory

Nico: U GOTTA FUCKIN DEAL

Dante clenches his fist in victory. Nico tells him to hold tight while she finds a good hiding spot and the perfect angle. So, he grabs the nearest swimsuit magazine to read while he waits for Nico’s sneaky photos.

He only has to read a couple of pages of articles and check out a few curvy ladies before his phone vibrates. “Well now…let’s see what we've got,” he announces aloud as his hand instantly picks up his phone and eagerly opens up the message. Here she is! is written below two pictures of a bubbly woman with a bright smile and lively eyes. In one photo she is sitting down at a garden table, and in the other she is standing by a bed of flowers. She is wearing white summer dress and has a white flower in her hair. Dante chuckles in glee because now he understands why his brother has fallen so hard: the local florist is a total babe!

Dante is about to get back to his magazine when another text from Nico comes through:

Nico: Yoooooooooo

Nico: U didnt tell me that Vergil was gonna be here!

Dante: Im not my brother’s keeper!

Nico: Im NOT about to get stabbed if he catches me

Nico: Im out

Dante: WAIT

Dante: I’ll sweeten the deal!

Dante: If you get a pic of them together

Nico: DANTE

Dante: Then I’ll let you check out my guns

Dante: FOR A WEEK

A very long pause follows and Dante thinks that Nico is still going chicken out despite his sudden add on to her prize when her response chimes in:

Nico: U better hold up your end of the deal, Dante

Dante: Nicooooo u know I always keep my word!

Nico: Cuz if u dont, I’ll run u over with the van

Dante: No u wont

Nico: VROOM VROOM BITCH

Dante’s amused chuckle echoes throughout the shop. “So, that’s where you’re running off to,” he comments to himself. “The secret garden.” As he waits for Nico’s next photo, he starts to wonder what kind of a woman catches the eye of his broody brother. I mean…sure, you’re a cutie, but Dante knows that Vergil is not so easily swayed by looks alone. Of course, he could be reading into this too much and you’re actually just a really adorable friend…which is why he has to see both of you together. If Vergil has that soft smile on his face and if you show any sign of reciprocating his brother’s feelings…

His phone vibrates and Dante immediately opens the message. How's this for ya? reads Nico’s text along with a bunch of laughing emojis and a video clip. He arches an eyebrow as he presses play. He sees Nero, Kyrie, Vergil, and you all walking together by a bunch of flowers. He cannot make out the soft conversation of the group, but he does hear a lighthearted giggle as you do a twirl. Dante squints his eyes when he notices your hand reach for something in your dress…then his eyes widen as you throw petals into the air. The distinct growl of his brother comes through the audio and Dante nearly chokes on his own laugh. Some of the little pink flowers you threw…are sticking to Vergil’s hair!

I’m totally saving this just for the look on his face!

Dante kicks his feet off of the desk and he leans forward in his chair, never taking his eyes off the screen as Nero and Kyrie step out of frame. He tilts his head when Vergil kneels and you start to pluck the flowers from his hair. Dante has to rub his eyes to make sure he is really seeing these events correctly. Things get really interesting when you move in closer. The awkward expression on his brother’s face is pure gold. But what really has him pressing his nose to the screen is when Vergil stands up and you both just stare at each other. It is like a scene cut straight from a romantic movie. Dante has never seen his brother look so…totally in love. And you are mirroring the exact same expression.

Jackpot!

The video starts to shake and he hears Nico quietly cursing up a storm. The screen is a blur for a moment before it just totally cuts off. Dante is still for a while as he takes in everything that just happened. He honestly did not expect Vergil to be bitten by the love bug. A genuine smile curls on his lips as he thinks that maybe you are exactly what his brother needs to finally let go of the past and start living. But he cannot be the helpful little brother that he is without at least meeting you first. The genuine smile turns mischievous as Dante texts Nico about happened after the video ended and where exactly is this secret garden in the city...

(A Week Later...Reader’s POV)

The late afternoon sun beats down as you wipe the sweat from your brow. You examine the rambling roses you are currently pruning, checking to see if you missed anything before standing up and stretching your legs. Sweet basil, it’s hot, you thought, taking off your gardening hat and fanning your face as you pocket your pruning shears. You think about Vergil and how he always seems to keep cool while wearing a long blue coat in the summer.

The power of Sparda must also include internal air conditioning. You giggle at your own quip as you put the gardening hat back on your head and decide to take a break. As you walk through the multitude of flowers you search for any sign of the Son of Sparda among the flora. He has not called to inform you that he is stopping by today, but that does not necessarily mean he will not show up unannounced…annoyingly startling you before buttering you up with an offering of beautiful blooms.

Vergil has been regularly visiting you in your garden now. Sometimes both of you read and drink tea under the fruit trees, other times you have to work and just let him read in peace while frolicking about your garden. Every now and then he insists on looming close behind you, claiming that he wants to observe how you arrange bouquets and care for the flowers. There are a few times that you somehow rope him into helping since he is so inclined to learn and you must admit…seeing a tall and imposing man handle tiny flowers carefully is so endearing, making you fall even harder for the handsome devil.

You step through the backdoor and walk into your kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and swiftly open the door. When the cold air hits your face you sigh and just stand there for a moment to cool off as you reach for a bottle of water. You close the fridge and head to your office to check the status of a shipment on your computer while you guzzle down half of the bottle. The flowers for Nero and Kyrie’s wedding are well in supply, but you ordered some extra ribbon, wires, needles, and other miscellaneous supplies. It is a little stressful that you only have so much time to pull this off, but that only pushes you to do your utmost best to give them the best flowers they have ever seen. All seems to be order, you mentally note, finishing off your water bottle as you tab out of the website.

Time to get back to work! You go back out to the garden, grab the garden hose, and turn on the outdoor faucet. You adjust the nozzle on the hose to spray into a mist and set off to water some flowers. “Alright, my darlings!” you say cheerfully as you step up to the first section of flowers. “Who’s thirsty?” You happily spray their petals with glistening droplets as you hum softly. One of the many reasons why you enjoy gardening so much is just how tranquil it can be, your mind slipping into a peaceful state as all your worries just drift away and you feel like a flower basking in the warm sunlight.

Although, you do find yourself ceaselessly daydreaming about a certain white-haired gentleman while gardening lately. You cannot get the feel of his slicked back locks out of your thoughts, yearning to do more than just pluck petals from his hair. You wonder if the bergamot scent is from a cologne he is wearing or the constant cups of his favorite tea. And the expression on his face after you picked the stray petals from his hair…cheeks slightly blushing as his gleaming silver eyes stare straight into your soul. The very memory of it has you shivering in delight as you turn around to water the next section of flowers.

“Holy hollyhock!”

The sudden appearance of a man in a long red jacket standing in your garden has you jumping back in surprise. Your foot steps on the garden hose, making you lose your balance and start to tip over. Thankfully, the stranger has quick reflexes and quickly leans forward to catch your fall. “Whoa! Easy there!” he exclaims as he sets you upright, doing his best to avoid the misty spray of the hose still clutched in your hand. That is when you notice his distinct white hair swaying in front of his blue eyes. And his face…if it was not for the slight fuzz of a beard or the care-free expression, he would be the spitting image of Vergil. Which can only mean…

“You must be Dante.”

“What gave it away?” he asks, dramatically holding his hands out to the side as he nods his head in confirmation.

“You wouldn’t be a Son of Sparda if you didn’t scare your local gardener to death!”

Dante tilts head at your answer and smirks as he examines you from head to toe. “I dig the overalls,” he comments as he gestures to your attire. You look down at your green gardening overalls, the phrase "I like big buds and I cannot lie" imprinted on the front surrounded by large colorful flower buds.

“Thanks!” you laugh, turning off the garden hose. “I’m Y/N! I don’t recall Vergil saying that he was going to finally introduce me to you.”

“So, he’s told you about me? Did he mention that I am the better-looking twin?” he jests as he takes a step back and strikes a charmingly rugged pose.

“Uh, he mentioned that you are a demon hunter, a foolish buffoon, and…whoa!” Your eyebrows shoot up as you closely examine his coat. “Your jacket does look really expensive!”

Dante rolls his eyes as he relaxes from his over-the-top stance. “He just can’t let that go, huh?” He shakes his head and lightly chuckles.

“So…what brings you to my garden?” you inquire kindly, not letting his surprise visit distract you from being hospitable. Dante did not mention his brother being present here with him, so you hope that Vergil does not mind you being friendly and helping his brother out if he needs it.

“The girls keep telling me I need something to brighten up the shop,” he explains as he scratches the back of his head. “So, I figured some flowers from my brother’s friendly neighbor florist might do the trick.”

You smile sweetly. “Okay! Do you have any kind of flowers in mind?”

“Well, my mother’s favorite flowers were-”

“Burgundy roses!”

Dante quirks an eyebrow. “Did you just read my mind?”

A giggle escapes your lips as you shake your head. “Vergil told me that his mother had a modest garden herself, and that she grew those roses a lot. Don’t worry,” you affirm as your hand sets down the garden hose. A big confident smile spreads across your face as you twirl in excitement, pausing to strike your own cute pose. “I got you covered!”

He nods his head in approval. “Right on.”

You make small talk with Dante as you lead him to the rose section of your garden, asking if by “the girls” he means the other two demon hunters that work with him. He confirms your guess and grumbles about how unfair it is that you know so much the crew while he knows next to nothing about you. That is quickly remedied though as he bombards you with the oddest series of questions…most of them involving strawberries and pizza. When you tell him that you used to work at the local pizzeria and bakery in your home town he enthusiastically asks if you made the pizzas. You laugh at his boyish glee and inform him that you sometimes helped with the pizzas, but you mostly baked the pastries and desserts.

“Here we are!” You point to a bush full of the dark reddish-purple roses as you step through the various buds and blooms. “Roses of unconscious beauty!” Dante studies the rose bush as you approach it, lean in, and inhale their lovely fragrance. You breathe out in delight and start looking for the best blooms for a bouquet. “Aren’t they lovely?” You look over your shoulder and see that Dante is barely paying attention. His blue green eyes gaze distantly at the rose bush, reminding you a little of Vergil’s silver blue eyes when he recedes into his head. You wait a moment before deciding to coax him out of pensive stupor.

“Flower for your thoughts?”

Dante blinks and shakes his head. “Sorry about that. I was just…remembering something.” He walks over and stands next you, a small grin appears on his face as he peers down at you. “These would look nice on my desk. I’ll take ‘em.”

“Alright!” You reach into your pocket, taking out the pruning shears still stored in there and begin snipping some select roses, carefully removing the thorns before sticking them in another pocket until you can properly tie them together.

Dante quietly watches you for a few moments before he crosses his arms and leisurely leans back. “So…you and my brother.”

You snip a third rose as you glance over at him. “Me and your brother…?” you repeat, hoping he will expand upon the conversation he started. Dante just continues to gaze at you inquisitively. Your brow furrows in puzzlement as you wonder what he is trying to imply…until it suddenly hits you.

No way. He can’t be…

“Are you…Dad-terogating me?”

“Am I what now?”

“You know…that thing fathers do when daughters bring home their boyfriends.” Your voice drops as you do your best impersonation a stern father figure. “What are your intentions little girl?”

“Oh man,” Dante snickers. “And what if I am?” he counters with a puckish smirk.

“Well, Mr. Sparda,” you begin with a cheeky grin, turning to him while you clutch a thornless burgundy rose close to your chest. “I only have the best intentions towards your brother, Vergil. They include smiles, laughter, and a healthy dose of poetry with dash of tea…Oh!” You dip your hand into the front pocket of your overalls. “And lots of flower showers!” Your grin turns cheerful as you toss pink hydrangea petals high into the air.

Dante stares at you closely for a moment, totally unfazed by the petals scattering around him before he chuckles softly. “Well now…how can I argue with that? My party pooper of a brother needs it.”

You giggle and go back to snipping more roses. A fourth one is freed and you begin to remove the thorns from the stem. “It’s sweet of you to look out for him, you know,” you point out with a genuine smile. “You’re a good brother, Dante.”

He smiles back and is about to respond when an awful hellish screech fills the air. Your head snaps over to the direction it is coming from, but you already know what those sounds mean. Dante casually looks over as well, but he does not look as concerned as you. His face reminds you more of the neighborhood kids when the ice cream truck drives by. “Looks like our flower pickin’ is gonna have to wait,” he surmises as he struts briskly towards the commotion.

You pocket the pruning shears and the rose in your hand as you hurriedly follow behind him. The screeching is now really loud and as you step into to a clearing you see the familiar forms of demons just beyond the gates of your garden. Even though you live in a city known for its constant hellish attacks, the sight of their malformed bodies never fails to freeze your blood. The closest one, resembling a large corrupted bat, flies over the gate and hovers near one of your apple trees. It shrieks as its throat starts to glow red. Anger floods through your body when you register what it intends to do to your lovely fruit trees.

“Oh, no you DON’T!” you shout as you run by the gardening tools still laying out, grabbing the garden hoe as you pass by and rush towards the bat-like creature. It swivels around just as you draw your makeshift weapon back and swing up at it with all your strength. The hoe connects and a pained squeal rings out as the demon is knocked back a little bit away from the apple tree. You let out a shuddering breath, quickly realizing that perhaps smacking a demon with a gardening tool was not the best idea.

Multiple gunshots startle you out of your internal dread as they streak up at the bat-like demon. It shakes violently before it drops to the ground and disintegrates. You turn around and see Dante holstering two guns behind his back before giving you a round of applause. “Not bad! Very inventive use of…” his hands pause as he inspects your tool curiously.

“It’s a hoe,” you bluntly inform him.

“Really?” Dante puts his hands on his hips as he circles around you, shielding you from the oncoming demons notice. “Well then…you really know how to handle a hoe!”

You snort and check your tool for any signs of it being broken or bent. “You know what they say…a dirty hoe is a happy hoe!” you joke, flashing him the disgusting bloody residue on the tip. Dante hunches over as a hearty laugh burst from his lips. You feel a sense of accomplishment at making such a clever gardening pun, but it is short lived as a series of terrible growls and roars remind you of the current danger. “Umm,” you mutter softly, “as much as I would like to give more demons a good hoeing…”

Dante reigns in his boisterous laughter and nods. “Yeah...get yourself to safety.” He runs and skillfully jumps over the gate. Before he goes to deal with the demons, he looks over his shoulder at you. “Even though I’m not a hoe I can still get rid of these nasty weeds,” he quips with a wink.

You laugh and shake your head at his own gardening pun before retreating back to your house, sighing in relief as your backdoor comes into view. When you are a few feet away from safety, a low rumbling growl reaches your ears, making you stop in your tracks. You still have your garden hoe, so you hold it up in defense as you scan your surroundings for any immediate threat. It is quiet for a moment…then a series obscure red streaks zoom around you. Your eyes try to track whatever is circling you, but you cannot see what is stalking you like prey.

Your body is quaking now as you turn around to glance behind you. A lizard-like demon with a vicious red blade protruding from one of its scaly arms is leaping through the air straight at you. Your instincts kick in and you raise your gardening tool up in defense, even though you feel certain that it will not enough to block that sharp blade. A series of tumultuous emotions sling around your mind, but one strongly overtakes you as the image of Vergil pops into your head…regret.

I didn’t even get to tell him that-

Before you are able to close your eyes and brace yourself for the deadly impact, a sudden blur of blue spheres pop up and knock back your scaly assailant. A familiar form clad in a blue coat suddenly appears next to the demon and proceeds to hit it with a series of slashes. When he finishes his ruthless onslaught, he turns his back on the demon and dramatically sheaths his sword. Just as the hilt of the sword slams into the case, the demon convulses in pain one last time before collapsing on the ground.

The regret you felt earlier fades away as your devilish rescuer turns towards you. The usual scowl on his face is now even more severe as he scrutinizes your appearance. He may be fuming with rage, but you do not mind, nor do you care. “Vergil!” you cry, trying to thank him for saving your life, but you feel so overwhelmed that no words come out. All you can do is smile gratefully as your eyes well up with tears, so happy that you get to see the man you feel so deeply for again after all.

Read Part 6 (Ch. 2) here

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#vergil x reader #vergil #devil may cry #dmc 5 #romance #fluff #flowers #the language of flowers #gardener reader #writing #fanfiction #humor #meeting the family #hijinks and shenanigans #wingman dante #A Rose of Unconscious Beauty #a rose among the briars #and just like that a legendary wingman is born #harlot writes

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feathers-and-fisticuffs · 5 years

Text

Homecoming...

[Chapter List HERE]

Rose stared down at all of his work, scatter across his desk, scribbles and mess and chaos. How had things gotten so out of control?

And Leon... Leon telling him to wait, that was the final straw. He couldn’t wait another day. It was too dangerous, word was already out and if all his research were to suddenly fall into the wrong hands tonight?

Galar, nay, the whole world would be doomed.

He alone was smart enough to make this work. And Leon was the only one strong enough to stop it before it got out of control. Bede had already been taken care of, Rose knew Opal would help the boy become everything he had pushed him towards and more, no thanks to Oleana’s meddling of course... He hadn’t wanted things to end that way, but he couldn’t lead the boy along further into danger.

Basil, however, was another story. But Basil had a good heart, a strong heart, and would never understand why things had to be the way they are. If he let Basil in on the plan, he would run. He would turn his back, and leave.

And it would be better for him, that way.

And Rose would fall on his own sword. Galar needed a hero, they needed Leon. He would play the part of the villain, and Galar would live on without him.

Basil spent two more days in his hospital bed, and Kabu spent those two days without letting Basil out of his sight. Piers and Marnie even came to visit, and it made Kabu happy to see them getting along, and to see Basil smiling and laughing again.

While they waited for the release papers, they sat idly together and chatted. Basil was antsy to get home, and Kabu was doing anything he could think of to keep him distracted enough to not think about it.

“How come Piers calls you Master?” Basil asked after the two visitors had left. “Its kind of weird.”

“Because he respects me, as his teacher.” Kabu smiled. “It’s not weird, it’s polite.”

“I don’t want to call you that it’s weird.” Basil wrinkled his nose. “I’m not some servant! And you shouldn’t make Piers call you that either!”

Kabu laughed. “I don’t make him call me anything. He does it because he wants to show me respect! Because unlike SOME people--” He ruffled Basil’s hair playfully, “He has manners!”

Basil squeaked and tried to put his hair back in place. “I have manners!”

“You don’t have to call me anything you’re not comfortable with Basil. You can keep calling me Kabu, whatever you’d like.” He chuckled. “What brought this on?”

“Well... Mr. Rose always tried to get Basil and I to call him Dad and I just...” He was obviously thinking of a polite way to say what it was he was trying to say.

“You don’t have to call me Dad if you don’t want to, Basil. You’re not hurting my feelings I promise. And you won’t hurt Rose’s feelings if you do.”

Basil leaned back then, thinking hard.

“Is there something else on your mind?” Kabu inquired cautiously.

“Do you think Rose misses us?” He asked quietly after a while.

Kabu squeezed his hand. “I think he misses you both very much.”

“Do you think he’ll try to visit when he gets out?”

“Maybe,” Kabu admit, though he hoped not, “We’ll just have to wait and see won’t we? Unless you don’t want him to visit. If you don’t want to see him again you won’t, I’ll make sure of it.”

Basil nodded then. “Okay. I don’t know.”

The doctor came in with the papers, left him with some medicine, and told them Basil was free to go home. Basil couldn’t be happier, and Kabu had to hold on to him to keep him from booking it out the door, walking him calmly out to the flying taxi so he didn’t knock anyone over in his haste. It was good to be going home...

************

“Milo?! Nessa! We’re home!” Kabu called as they walked in the door, and found Milo at the table with Cyrus in his wheelchair at the table.

“Welcome home!” Milo grinned.

“Please make him go home...” Cyrus growled pathetically. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Oh, we’ve had tons of fun! He’s doing really well, I’d love to come back and help more! Reminds me of taking care of my Nanna before she died.”

Cyrus made an indignant noise. “I’m 27! And I’m not dying!”

Milo giggled and stood. “Maybe not but you’re just as grumpy. You two would have been friends.” Basil and Kabu laughed, and Kabu told Milo he was free to go, thanking him again for helping out.

“Well Cyrus, you’re looking well.” Kabu chuckled and cleared his empty plate for him.

“How dare you leave me here with those two!” He seethed, but it didn’t sound very threatening. “I’ve got a headache from him! No one should be that bubbly! And the girl was just mean!” He pouted.

“Did you deserve it?”

“That’s beside the point!”

Kabu just chuckled, and Basil went to his room to change clothes. Once he was gone, Cyrus wheeled around the table so he could lower his voice.

“What happened?”

Kabu explained, briefly, that he had been hurt by a Pokemon. If Basil wanted to tell him that was fine, but he didn’t feel it was his place to tell someone like Cyrus what had happened.

Cyrus listened with a frown and looked towards the stairs. “He doesn’t look like you at all.”

That earned a scoff from Kabu. “Yeah no shit. He’s not mine. I’m just taking care of him.”

“Oh. Seems like a good kid. Reminds me of the kids who used to work for me. Real bright kids. Good kids.” He said solemnly.

“The ones you forced to help you try to destroy the world?”

A pause in the conversation. “You’re making it sound like a bad thing. And no, I didn’t force them. I didn’t force anyone to do anything.” That was almost the truth.

“What are you getting at, Cyrus? Or are you just trying to test my patience.” He put the dishes in the drainer then and turned to face him. Cyrus was still staring at the stairs.

“If you think I’m such a bad guy, why would you ask me to tutor him?”

Kabu walked around him and pushed the wheelchair, earning a cry of protest.

“Hush. If you honestly must know, I think it would be good for both of you. And don’t think for a second I’d let you hang out around him alone.” He threatened, pushing him to the living room and sitting on the couch in front of him. “But if you’re going to make an effort, then I have to show you as much trust as you show me, understand?”

Cyrus leaned back, a glint of anger and annoyance in his eyes, but he held his tongue for the most part. “Don’t touch my wheelchair.”

Kabu crossed his arms. “Fine. I won’t. I was just trying to help.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

They sat in silence, glaring at each other for a while, unsure of how to proceed. Basil fixed that problem by rushing back down and plopping on the couch by Kabu happily. “Kabu Kabu! Come look come look!” He tugged on Kabu’s sleeve impatiently. “Look look look hurry!”

Kabu was startled by this and stood with him. “What what is it what’s wrong?”

“Come on ugh you’re so slow come on!” He tugged him along up the stairs, and threw open his bedroom door. “Look!”

Kabu stepped inside and his jaw dropped. Everything had been rearranged, his garish beanbags had been replaced with cute chairs, everything had been decorated and updated and looked, well, amazing. He pulled out his phone to text Nessa and saw a message there from her already.

<Got bored, hope the kid likes what I did. 💙

Kabu laughed and shook his head.

<What would I do without you two, Ness?

Basil was looking through all the new stuff, books and a tv and some games, there was even a black and gold vanity mirror desk to replace his sad little desk and mirror set up. Nessa had even left a giant sampler of her makeup there, too.

<Well you’d be way less cool, first of all.

Kabu sat on the edge of the bed and watched Basil gleefully taking everything in, sneaking a few pictures to send to her. Eventually Basil turned around and rushed back to him, giving him a giant hug.

“Thank you Kabu..!”

Kabu laughed and hugged back. “You’re welcome but don’t thank me, I didn’t know either.” He smiled and showed him a picture of Nessa.

“NO WAY!”

“Yes way.”

“You two know each other for real!?”

“Why do you assume I don’t know these people we’re co workers!” He teased.

“Because they’re so... Cool! And you’re... weird.” Basil teased back, making Kabu laugh again.

“Keep talking like that I’ll let them keep you!” He threatened, squeezing him a little tighter and poking his sides.

“No! Kahabu!” He wriggled out of his arms and rushed back to the other side of the room to look around some more. “Can I meet her? Oh, she wouldn’t like me. I don’t want to meet here she’ll think I’m weird!”

“I think she’d love to meet you. Despite what Cyrus said she’s actually very nice.”

“Marnie said sometimes she and Nessa go clothes shopping together...”

“Well that sounds like a ton of fun.” Kabu stood again. “Don’t wear yourself out too much, you’re still recovering.” Basil was already curled up in bed with his pokemon snuggled around him, reading a book.

He stepped back downstairs where Cyrus had moved to the staircase, listening to them with a small smirk.

“What, you knew? What’s with that look?”

“What? I’m not as heartless as you make me out to be.” Cyrus shrugged.

Kabu shook his head. Cyrus was a strange man indeed, he couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking at all.

************

Bede sat in the waiting room, surrounded by strangers, many of whom recognized him, all of them much bigger than him, gruffer and meaner and frightening. He sat with his eyes glued to the floor, crumpled letter in his hands, fidgeting idly, waiting for his turn. He wanted to run away, he hated it here, he should never have come. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was staring at him. Of course they were, look at him. He was out of place, and out of his element.

Finally someone called him, and he stood curtly, making his way to the door with his head down. The officer led him back to another room, gestured to a couch behind a little table. At the front of the room was a large TV. The officer reminded him of the rules, made sure Bede wasn’t carrying anything dangerous, or any recording devices, and that he was ready, and he nodded. He could do this.

The lights dimmed slightly and there was an electric crack as the TV clicked on, and in front of him sat Rose.

He looked terrible. His hair was a mess, dark circles under his eyes, he hadn’t shaved and his facial hair was getting scruffy. His wrinkled orange prison clothes looked so strange, so informal, so messy on him. Bede couldn’t manage out a word, caught off guard by his appearance, and the look on his face.

There was a moment of confusion, on Rose’s face, before recognition brought that small, familiar smile to his lips, that made Bede’s stomach turn.

“You came...”

#my precious baby basil #kabu #gym leader kabu #dad kabu #cyrus #nessa #rose #bede #pokemon sword and shield #swsh #pokemon oc #oof broke my heart with this one a few times

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volturialice · 5 years

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and thou art distant in Humanity

welcome to an edbella thing feat. vampire!bella and human!edward and a bookstore. it’s @cullen-collective‘s birthday request! title from Isabella, or the Pot of Basil by John Keats.

rating: gen

pairings: bella swan/edward cullen

length: 1.4k words

part 1/2

Bella has never minded being alone. It’s being alone among other people she can’t seem to handle.

This time it was Emmett’s fault, of course. Things often are. Sometimes Bella wonders whether the whole bear incident was as entirely unprovoked as her brother claims, because his ability to attract trouble is every bit as formidable as her own.

Usually, it’s fine. It’s not as if you can get into too much trouble as an immortal, indestructible vampire. At least Emmett has just enough sense not to cross the Volturi or pick a fight with another coven. And he has Rose to keep him in line.

And content as she is with solitude, sometimes Bella wonders what that would be like. She loves her family, but it would be nice to have someone who was all hers. Someone to hunt with, talk with, share with, spend eternity with. The usual stuff.

And yes, all right, someone to have sex with. It’s awkward, having to sequester herself in the library all night every night until the others zip downstairs at dawn, all giggly and handsy or mellow and blissed out. Bella’s library is probably the most well-stocked and beautiful one in the country, but sometimes it feels more like a self-imposed prison than an escape. Still, she makes the best of it. Lonely cell or cozy burrow, it’s her space.

Which is why it feels like such an affront when Emmett trespasses. Most of the time, Bella doesn’t mind being the perfect victim for his pranks—just stuffy enough to get offended, just cool enough to forgive. But Emmett can��t always tell when he crosses a line. Bella hides hurt feelings so well that probably no one can, except maybe Jasper. She doesn’t know why it’s so hard to admit when she’s been hurt—maybe some buried thing from her human life, an enduring desire to please everyone all the time, to never be a burden. That sounds about right for a girl from 1918.

So she doesn’t say anything to Emmett about the ruined copy of Little Women. What would be the point? It’s not as if she can’t replace it. They’re billionaires, for crying out loud. She swallows back the little twinge of grief, the voice that protests, Renée bought me that book in 1909, a birthday present, we read it aloud to each other on summer evenings by the open window—and accepts the post-it note Alice hands her, with the address of the closest used bookstore—Masen’s Books—in elegant, looping scrawl.

Bella should check it out, anyway. It’s always the first place she goes whenever they move to a new town. A way of getting her bearings. She loves the old-book smells, the quiet shuffling of feet and pages, the way the towering shelves seem to swallow up sound and make her feel like the only person on Earth—insulated, small, safe. Most of all she loves the link to the past, the tangible history in her hands when she picks up an old volume that someone else might have loved, once.

Masen’s Books is about as close as Bella will ever get to being in heaven. Its two labyrinthine stories are divided into careful subsections, so many genres and special interests competing for attention that Bella almost doesn’t know where to start. She finds Little Women immediately—not a 1909 edition, but 1929 isn’t too bad, and at least it’s a sturdy copy, with its simple teal-blue binding in pretty good condition for something nearly as old as she is.

But why stop there? There’s so much to look at. Anthologies and literary criticism, philosophy and religion, books in a host of other languages—French, Spanish, German, Vietnamese—and even a section of antique travel guides. Esme would love the Baedekers.

She’s flipping through an Icelandic translation of Pride and Prejudice when she hears the human approach. Even after all these years of living the charade, Bella still has to remind herself not to look up until it’s appropriate, until she hears his polite cough.

It’s a boy, probably somewhere in his late teens or early twenties, with glasses and an untidy mop of bronze hair. Bella watches his green eyes widen as he takes in her appearance. So much for dressing down and blending in today.

“Um. Pardon me, miss, but I just wanted to let you know that we closed five minutes ago,” he stammers. Bella bites back her smile. He’s blushing. It’s kind of cute. (She ignores the stirrings of thirst low in her throat.)

“I’m sorry—I lost track of time.” She explains. A quick scan with her senses tells her she’s the only customer left—how embarrassing. This poor kid probably wants to lock up and go home, and here she is, head in the clouds, forcing him to stay late.

“It’s fine,” insists the boy. “I don’t mean to rush you. I just didn’t want you to be alarmed that the door is locked.”

“No, no, I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll just pay for these, if that’s okay,” says Bella, feeling the odd urge to blush herself. Is he always so accommodating, or is he making an exception for the pretty stranger?

“Of course. It’s, um, right over here.”

Bella follows him to the register, the one area of the shop she hasn’t explored yet. Now she sees her folly—she should have started here. There’s a great glass-encased shelf behind the cash wrap, locked, full of what look like the oldest and best-preserved volumes in the store. All the special, exceptional books must be here—a store this meticulously curated is bound to have some signed copies, a few first editions. Just looking at the ornate spines and gilded pages sends a shiver of greedy excitement down Bella’s spine. She’ll have to come back sometime for a closer examination.

The human boy rings up her purchase. Bella likes the way he packs her books into the bag—gingerly, as though each one is a rare exotic fruit he and mustn’t allow them to bruise. He slides a bright green flier into the cover of Little Women.

“Your shop is beautiful,” offers Bella as she hands him her credit card.

“Oh, thanks.” He fumbles the credit card swipe, tries again. “It’s my parents’ shop, really,” he admits, eyes downcast as if it’s crucial that he watch the machine print her receipt. His eyelashes are the same red-bronze color as his hair. “I just help out Tuesday through Friday, and run some of the programs.”

“Programs?”

“Book clubs, mainly. They’re all listed on the flier.” He tucks Bella’s receipt into the bag. “I’m Edward Masen, by the way.”

“Bella Cullen,” says Bella. She bites her lip and holds in a wince as she takes his proffered hand. It’s always a little disappointing to watch humans flinch from her cold skin.

But Edward doesn’t flinch. “Is that short for Isabella?” he asks, passing her the bag of books.

“Yes,” says Bella, letting her arm sag as if it’s heavy. “But no one’s called me that in a century.” She grins at her little joke, and though Edward can’t possibly understand what’s so funny, he smiles crookedly back.

When Bella gets home and opens Little Women, the flier almost falls out. It’s such a lurid shade of neon that she has to stop herself from comparing it to the calm, sea-glass hue of Edward’s eyes. What a strange, errant thought.

The list includes a study group and four different book clubs. Bella’s eyes are drawn to the last one:

New this fall!

Come read and discuss Romantic poetry

Thursday evenings from 6-8

BYO refreshments

She thinks of the well-worn copy of Keats’ Realms of Gold, and Other Works that has never left the end table in her bed-less bedroom, and of the time she tried to discuss it with Carlisle and was interrupted by Emmett and Jasper crashing through two walls and a dining table. It’s a stark contrast with the memory of Edward, handling each of her books with fastidious care.

Maybe it would be nice to have a reason to leave the house once in a while (the high school charade definitely doesn’t count.) And maybe it would be nice to hear some new people’s opinions. Maybe a book club is exactly what she needs.

#fic: mine #bella swan #edward cullen #did I think I would ever write edbella? nope #did I intend to make it this long? also no #long post //

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arotechno · 5 years

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The Heartless: Chapter 1

In a world where those born without hearts are said to carry a dangerous curse, Ace has lived most of his life believing himself to be a monster. Now, seeking closure about the defining moment of his childhood, Ace embarks on a coming-of-age journey to learn the truth about what it means to be human.

Note: Yes, this is your surprise. Yes, this is just a draft. No, I don’t know when the other chapters will be coming. Yes, this is an aro story and you will just have to trust me. Yes, the main character’s name is Ace. This concept comes from a short story I wrote for a class over five years ago, and I assume I wrote him with being asexual in mind, but it doesn’t much matter to me whether or not you read him that way. Yes, I am aware that I’m risking readers conflating aromanticism and asexuality. No, I cannot bring myself to change his name. You try working with the same character over a five year period and then attempting to bring yourself to change his name. And no, I have no idea how archery works but I’ll be damned if I don’t pretend I do. I’ll shut up now.

When the winter first melted into spring, Basil and I crept to the edge of the woods behind our houses to pick wildflowers in the meadow. It was still too early for raspberries; in the summer, we’d fill our baskets and our stomachs with them until our mouths were stained red with juices. Our mothers would bake pies in the afternoon and we’d eat them in the evening, cleaning every last scrap from our dinner plates with the promise of a sweet dessert. Now, the earth was still cool beneath our bare feet, our toes wiggling in the soft dirt. Once we’d filled our fists with flowers, we settled in the tall grass and began weaving together goldenrod, daisies, and violets into flower crowns and daisy chains.

Basil presented his work and beamed at me, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun with the back of his hand. “Take it, I want you to wear it,” he urged, thrusting the flower crown into my lap.

“But you worked so hard on it,” I replied.

He shrugged and brushed dirt from his tanned knees. “I want you to have it,” he insisted, reaching forward and taking the crown from my lap to place it gently on my head.

I stared down at my own work in my hands; it was not nearly as beautiful as the one Basil had made. Some of the stems had split, and many of the flowers had lost some of their leaves and petals. I didn’t have the same steady hands that he did.

“In that case, I want you to have mine, too,” I decided, pressing the crown onto Basil’s head as a couple more leaves fluttered to the ground.

Basil grinned a mile wide, practically radiating sunshine with every inch of his being. “Now we match,” he giggled.

A peaceful silence fell over the meadow. Behind us, the trees rustled in the woods. Insects hovered in the grass, hopping from flower to flower; Basil jumped when a bee buzzed past his face to land in the flowering raspberry bushes that bordered the treeline.

“We’ll be friends forever, right, Basil?” I asked after a while, sheepishly adjusting my flower crown.

“Of course we will,” he responded. “Even when we’re old!”

“How old? Like, eighteen? That’s super old!”

Basil laughed. “Yeah! Eighteen and then even older!”

I smiled hopefully. “We can still make flower crowns?”

“Ace, when we’re eighteen, I’ll still make you all the flower crowns you want,” Basil decreed with a grin. “That’s a promise.”

The warmth of the sun and Basil’s innocent smile faded as I woke up to last night’s rain dripping down on me from the cracks in the ceiling above. Bertrand stood over me, jostling me awake with one hand while the other hand held a vial of another one of his concoctions. I assumed I had fallen asleep after supper, because the dishes remained untouched by the washbasin and twilight was just pouring in through the window.

“Drink up,” Bertrand commanded in that voice of his that just begged to be disobeyed, holding the potion in front of me expectantly as if to remind me of the curse that filled the vacant space within me. He stared at me with piercing eyes over the top of his growing gray beard, sloshing the vial back and forth for emphasis.

I grabbed it from his wrinkly hand and sloshed the red liquid around in disgust before shutting my eyes and downing it in one gulp, just to appease him. Even so, I rested a hand against my chest, but still I felt nothing. Shaking my head, I rose from my cot and pushed past Bertrand, grabbing my bow and arrow off of the hook by the door and slinging it over my shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Bertrand called after me.

“Out,” I answered, already halfway out the rickety wooden door.

“It’s past nightfall, Ace, it’s dangerous out there!”

But I was already gone, walking away from the old house as the door slammed shut behind me with a satisfying thud.

Over the seven years I’d spent under Bertrand’s leaky roof, I had slowly become disillusioned with the idea of ever finding a potion strong enough to light a fire in my ribcage. Bertrand had tested a lot of his spells on me throughout my life, but the love potion had always proven to be the least effective.

But I suppose that is to be expected when you do not have a heart.

The Village of the Heartless was smaller than the town where I grew up. A single dirt road ran from the village gates to the top of the hill, coming to a stop at the edge of the woods that surrounded the kingdom. We were a close-knit community, learning to provide and look out for each other in the harshness of our everyday lives.

Bertrand’s house stood at the edge of the village, where the hill dropped off toward the gates below. At the base of the hill stood a large, sturdy oak tree where I perched some nights with my bow and arrow on the lookout for trouble.

Nights in the Village of the Heartless were always dark, as we could never afford enough oil to keep all of the town’s lamps lit, but they were rarely quiet. Thugs from neighboring towns wandered the village at night, brandishing knives in their grimy hands, looking to stir up trouble. Tonight was no different; as I neared the village limits, I caught a glimpse of a pair of kids making their way down the road, and a thrill shot up my spine. I climbed swiftly up the oak tree and perched in the shadow of its lush, leafy branches, fingers itching for my bow.

The pair dragged a child behind them by the arm, yanking her across the dirt with them as they cackled and cheered triumphantly at their prized catch. The girl held tightly to a canvas sack, trying fruitlessly to pull away from her captors.

“Get away, get away!” she shrieked, dodging a blow as she fell to the ground, clutching the bag to her torso desperately.

“What’s the matter, little runt?” one of the thugs sneered. “You’re not afraid of a couple of kids, are you?”

“I just wanted something to eat!” the girl cried out as a likely filthy knife narrowly missed her cheek.

If I had been in my right mind, I would have simply shot the pair of thugs in the shoulder, snatched up the child, and run away, but Basil’s face kept flashing in my mind; an anger was boiling in my gut that demanded confrontation.

“Hey, ugly!” I shouted, pulling back an arrow and pointing it in their direction.

The kid with the knife froze, eyes darting up to my place on the tree branch. I was yards away, but I could see the glint of light from the last of the setting sun on the knife as his fist tightened around it. His partner, as well as the child still laying on the ground with the sack clutched to her chest, stared wide-eyed as he rose to his feet and stalked toward the tree.

“Who’re you talking to?” he grumbled.

“Doesn’t matter,” I quipped, hopping down from my perch and tightening my grip on the arrow. “Just let the kid go.”

“Why should I?” he retorted, nonetheless taking a step back when he saw the arrow aimed directly at his head. “Y-You’re not really going shoot that.”

“How do you know?”

The other kid called out, “Hey, let’s just get out of here.” He was ignored.

Pointing to the little girl, Knife Boy puffed out his chest and continued, “There’s no way you’re really worried about her. You Heartless are all the same; you don’t feel a damned thing. No way you’d go out of your way to save her.”

I allowed myself a bitter, self-indulgent smirk. “If that’s what you believe, that I am entirely emotionless, then wouldn’t it also stand to reason that I would feel no remorse about ending your sorry life right here and now? If that’s the case, then it would seem you had better start running.”

Knife Boy froze, taking a few steps back before he and his friend took off running in the direction they came. “Cursed bastards!” he yelled over his shoulder as he hopped the gate and disappeared. Once they were out of sight, I let my arms drop to my side and slung my bow back over my shoulder. I felt my brow furrow in frustration; life in the village had become so mundane that I was almost hoping for a fight. The girl, who had stayed completely still on the ground throughout the whole ordeal, scrambled to her feet, still clutching the bag in her white-knuckled hands. Now, up close, I recognized her immediately.

“That was awesome! How did you know what to say?” she beamed, slinging the canvas sack over her shoulder and wiping the dirt from a pair of ratty pants that fell three inches from her ankles.

“Petra, you’re the one who’s been stealing food from the neighboring villages?” I asked her, and her expression soured immediately at having been caught.

“Yeah, that was me,” Petra admitted under her breath. Then, scrambling to justify herself, she added, “But I only do it because there’s not enough food in the village and I gotta eat something!”

I nodded, mulling it over. “Sure, now I suppose I can’t blame you for that, but stealing is wrong. You’re plenty old enough to know that.”

“Of course, I know that, but I needed food!”

“Fine, I get it, I get it,” I sighed. “Just don’t make this a habit, got it? I promised Annie I would keep you out of trouble.”

Petra pouted. “Fine,” she mumbled. I started back up the hill, with Petra trotting silently alongside me.

Now twelve years old, Petra had lived in the Village of the Heartless since she was a baby—which was still longer than I’d been around—left outside the home of one of the village women, Annie, in the middle of the night. I’d met her several years ago, and she quickly became enthralled with my stories of life outside the village. Annie was dead several months now, leaving Petra to fend mostly for herself.

“You didn’t tell me how you knew what to say to that kid,” she urged, struggling to keep up with my strides.

“I used to spend time around those kinds of people a lot when I was a kid,” I explained, deciding to humor her. “I’ve learned how to turn their own words against them by now.”

I did not tell her that had I learned how to do so sooner, things may have turned out a lot differently.

I eventually sent Petra home with a warning that I’d be watching to make sure she didn’t get into any more trouble. When I crossed the threshold back into Bertrand’s musty old house, the palm of his hand came down hard across my face, leaving a sharp stinging sensation behind on my skin.

“What on earth was that for?” I yelped. Bertrand grabbed me by the wrist and dropped me into one of the rickety dining chairs in the center of the room, bearded face practically sparking with rage.

“You must not keep doing that!” he scolded.

“Doing what?” I asked innocently.

“Getting into confrontations with… hooligans! What else?”

“I did what I had to--”

“Don’t think I wasn’t watching, Ace! I could see the entire ordeal from the window!”

“Well maybe if you’d actually done something to help instead of just watching--”

“Unlike you, Ace, I value my life and am not going to get myself killed just to feel like the hero!”

I couldn’t help but bristle at his comment, and I sprung to my feet, the wooden chair tipping backward onto the stone floor behind me with a loud clatter. “What do you mean you value your life? All you do is sit around making futile potion after potion and you still think it’ll work next time!” I clenched my fists at my sides, willing the confrontational energy in my veins to burn out before it swallowed me whole. “So maybe I need to tell off a thug every once in a while to finally feel like I’m doing something meaningful. You can keep pouring bile down my throat all you want, but I can assure you it’ll never make me happy!”

Bertrand’s face fell, and I knew deep down that I had hurt him, but I could not bring myself to feel guilty. He had it coming, I thought, stalking across the room to my cot by the window. I sat down on the thin mattress, kicked off my boots, and pulled my knees up to my chest.

“Ace--” Bertrand, having followed me, reached out a hand as if to lay it on my shoulder, but I flinched away from the touch and he retracted the appendage as if he had been burned.

“Don’t touch me,” I muttered, directing my gaze out the window at the dark, lonely night creeping across the landscape. “Just leave me alone.”

With a sigh, Bertrand retreated from my bedside, retiring to his back potion room to conjure his demons away, and I sat back against the wall, longing for home and the warm voices of my parents.

That night, I dreamt of Knife Boy, and his words reminded me of Carita, the girl who kissed me under an oak tree when we were younger and told me I was weird for flinching.

#oh god sorry in advance if the formatting on this is ugly #look i've been sitting on this shit for AGES and i'll never be satisfied it's just a draft please be nice #feel free 2 ask me questions about this story yee haw #the heartless #2k followers special #aro #aromantic #aro writing #aro writers #long post #op

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atopearth · 4 years

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The Legend of Dragoon Part 1 - The Serdian War

Omggg this is so nostalgic already! Seeing Rose save Dart from the Dragon was a pretty iconic scene haha. I honestly don't remember this game having voice dubs lol, that was a nice surprise. I can't remember why exactly Shana could affect the future of this world or whatever, but I do remember she's the Moon Child or something and Dart needs to go around the world saving her haha. It's sad to see Dart's hometown Seles get burnt to the ground just because Imperial Sandora needed to capture Shana. And omggg I love how unique the battle system is btw, it's honestly the highlight of the game for me hahaha. I used to be pretty bad at it but I usually get the hang of it after a while haha. It's so weird btw. It's probably been more than 10 years since I played this game, but somehow subconsciously I knew that there must be something at the graves in Seles, and there really was stardust there! I can't remember what it's for, but I guess it's good to know that inside me I still remember a lot of things about this game haha. Anyway, Dart and Shana have a pretty common childhood friend relationship where he's always protected her since they were kids, so there's no way he won't go to save her from Hellena Prison. Seriously though, it's a pretty cliche relationship but I don't know why, when I was a kid, I was just really fond of them haha.

Meeting Lavitz here for Dart is a blessing since he'll be able to help him get through all the soldiers, but I guess that's likewise for Lavitz. Still better for Dart though since he'll be constantly trying to protect Shana haha. Anyway, I always found it saddening that Lavitz wanted to protect his fellow Knights of Basil that were captured as well, and about to be fed to Fruegel's pet but in the end, they still ended up dying🥺 I didn't realise that Dart actually hadn't been back to Seles for 5 years! No wonder why the others in town took a while to realise it was him, I just thought they were all groggy after their injuries. I guess that's why they believed that if he was there, Seles might have been okay, but still though, one more Dart can't really go against an army lol. Anyway, playing with Lavitz is so nostalgic! Hearing Dart say Double Slash and Lavitz say Harpoon is just so crazy hahaha. I can't wait to get Rose etc~ I still suck at the Additions though lmao, every time I'm like, I'm to good at this, I fail hahahaha, and I'm still just doing Double Slash, I literally only need to press one button when it goes close to the square lol! Fruegel wasn't that hard of a boss at all! I actually really enjoyed being able to use my Addition skills more because the soldiers kept dying in one hit lol. Ohh yeah, Dart's first hometown (where he and his parents lived) was called Neet and was attacked by the Black Monster! I think it was pretty saddening that his family escaped, but his father decided to return to help others, and his mother followed after him, like, what about your child?! It must have hurt for Dart to see something similar happen to Seles though... I can't believe Dart went on a journey to find the Black Monster when he was 13 though, like dang! But I guess a kid like him who had to learn to survive by himself would be resilient enough by that age... Hmmmm, as I gathered, the Kingdom of Basil is at war with Imperial Sandora and the war is widespread over Serdio itself. Can Emperor Doel of Imperial Sandora control the Dragon enough that he thinks he can take over Albert's kingdom instead of keeping the truce?? Gotta love how conveniently that log we chopped allowed us to cross the river hahahaha. Lavitz is such a kind soul though. He doesn't even know these random people on the road, and they're even from Sandora but he just invites them to Bale and even his house because they have nowhere else to go. I guess his kindness is a reflection of the type of country Albert runs.

Lmao, I love how Dart and Lavitz are such bros that even Shana can't butt in🤣 It was pretty scary when Lavitz slipped on the rock and nearly fell off the waterfall though, I felt so nervous for him lol. So cute how the guys are so fond of each other already though lol. Not sure what exactly Shana's powers do, but it instantly decimated that snake when her life was in danger so....hmm. It's so sweet how respected Lavitz is that the artist girl in Bale painted a portrait of him, and Dart said it was too handsome hahaha. Omg! I feel so sorry for the NPC in the inn! His child and his grandchild died due to the war so he thinks there's no meaning to his life anymore... That's so saddening... The lady that has been waiting for her boyfriend to come back even after 10 years is so faithful, it's heartbreaking. It's so cool to see how much the people love Lavitz in Bale, I guess it's understandable though, not only is he a good boy and knight, his dad is also a revered knight, so he's probably doing well succeeding him. Not surprised Dart wanted to leave Shana here to protect her lol. I loved how she practically immediately told him her feelings about it and him, like wow, she's so bold to say she wants to stay beside him forever in front of the king and everyone lol. Albert is right though, with a dragon on their side, no place is really safe in Serdio anymore... Hmmmm Winglies used to rule at the top until the Dragon campaign where they fought against Emperor Diaz and the seven dragons, and it was then that humans acquired their freedom after their slavery by the Winglies? And it was then that the Black Monster appeared.. I think it's really cool of Dart to see that him chasing after the Black Monster all this time has been selfish of him, and it caused him to nearly lose his hometown again, so now he wants to join alongside Lavitz to end this war before it creates more people like him who have lost their homes. No wonder why Hoax sounds familiar huh, that's where the current line of defence has been pushed to, and it's most likely where they'll use the dragon! HAHAHA, why does Albert have a slide that goes back to the entrance of the castle in his bed chambers?! Not complaining though because that was pretty fun and cool lmao. LOL at Shana saying she's Dart's girlfriend and not Lavitz's when the mum misunderstood, even Dart didn't know she was hahahaha. Lmao at Dart saying he can cook aka he can cook a large piece of meat hahaha, is that how he survived by himself for 5 years?! Even Lavitz was like forget it, leave the cooking to his mum and Shana loll. The answers are all so hilarious, imagining Dart trying to practise with his sword in Lavitz's house is so cute loll, he'll destroy the place. It was even more funny when you choose the option to take a nap because Dart says every young lady knows that lack of sleep is bad for your skin, and Lavitz is just speechless at it hahahaha. Looking around the house, it honestly feels kinda lonely that Lavitz's mum lives in this big house by herself considering Lavitz is away most of the time. I've always enjoyed the rooftop scene, you get to see a nice view of Indels Castle and you can see that Lavitz's passion towards protecting his country stems from watching his father, but it's become his dream now too. This is similar to Dart, where his passion lies in protecting Shana because he's the only one that can do that right now, he might still consider her a baby sister for now, but we'll see how it all goes! I think it's really cute how in the end, Lavitz ended up spending the night and even took his mum's handmade jerky haha, he's a soft boy at heart. I mean, the country and the war is important, but who knows how many times he can bond with his mother, so I'm glad he decided to spend some proper time with her instead of just lunch. I find it funny how you can jump from Lavitz's house's rooftop to the stables hahaha, imagine doing that in real life!

Lmaoo at Dart, Lavitz and even Kaiser (the Eighth Knighthood leader taking care of Hoax) saying that as long as Shana's food is edible, it's good enough🤣 To be fair, when you're a knight or a wanderer like Dart, I doubt you'll have much complaints about food haha. Omgg so King Doel is actually Albert's uncle?! Since Doel is apparently Carlo/Albert's father's brother! I wonder why their relationship soured, was it because Doel wanted to be king instead? Lmao at the midwife asking if they came to talk to her because Dart and Shana wanted babies hahahaha. War is always a saddening thing though. When I think about the soldiers such as the one holding the amulet from his daughter believing that he can go back home to her, the people fortifying their houses to protect against the raid and everything, it's just so saddening to see these soldiers fall by enemy arrows and everything... Man, the fight against Kongol is so unforgiving lol! If you fail your addition, he counterattacks you! I missed it once and was like whoa! Otherwise, I always love Rose swooping down in her dragoon form and saving Dart from Kongol~ hmm, so the Dragoon Spirit (the stone Dart's father left behind) means that you "deserve" to rule Dragons and for him, it's the Red-Eye Dragon? Nice that it's clarified that Dragoons were the ones who led humans to victory in the Dragon campaign, the pictures just kinda showed humans riding on dragons so I wasn't sure haha. It was so cute how Dart piggy backed Shana and told her that even if she may not be as strong as Rose, she's good for other stuff and doesn't need to compare herself. Oooh so Winglies used Virages in the Dragon Campaign, this one was pretty weak though! Greham's story is a pretty common one, but I always find it terrible, mainly because people like him driven by jealousy and power in order to get stronger than their best friend that they essentially admire, but then kill them in that quest is just..sad. People like Lavitz's father Servi trusted him, but in the end because of their desire to be stronger, they sacrifice their friend and end up pretty much regretting it in their death. I'm not sure if Emperor Diaz from the Dragon Campaign is alive or whatever as he says, but it's nice that Greham ended up leading Lavitz to inherit the Jade Dragoon Spirit.

I remember Lohan! It's such a crazy city because of how huge it is, yet all the houses and stores are so tiny and in like a maze lol! No idea how Dabas (the antique seller that tells us we can get Dragoni plant to save Shana from dragon poison north of the nest or something) affords his gigantic store lol. Lmaoo at the man staring across the street at a lady thinking she's interested in him, but she's actually just staring at him because he reminds her of her dog hahahah. I love the rollercoaster kinda ride you do at Shirley's Shrine to get the numbers to go to the boss lol, it's pretty fun hahaha. I thought Drake the bandit was aiming for treasure here, but it seems that he was protecting Shirley all along! I feel bad that Shirley's gone now, but I guess this is how it should be, and at least the White Silver Dragoon Spirit is in good hands and will only be used to heal people. It's kinda cute how apparently Haschel and Dart journeyed together before! Now they've reunited in the Hero Competition! Anyway, I've always loved this tournament part because it's really cool to see how Dart himself fares against others without the party. On another note, I'm not sure why I love Lloyd since I've kinda forgotten his character, but to this day, I love the name Lloyd enough that if it wasn't weird, I would totally call my future kid Lloyd, and it's probably the only reason I would prefer a boy than a girl LOL. I think I always found it really cool how overwhelmingly strong he was compared to Dart probably. Lmao at Lavitz trying to drag Rose away so Dart could play games around the arena with Shana alone, but she punches him instead hahahha. Okay lmao, totally cannot do that obstacle course lolll. I'd rather do what's wrong with the room one, it's so easy after you do it a few times hahah, also helps if you cheat by taking a photo with your phone LOL. But otherwise, it's the same scene every time so it's pretty easy. The pink bird in the hat moving around is too hard with the pixels merging together imo lol! And the monkeys throwing balls at Dart is pretty hilarious hahahah.

Although I can understand why Dart is so adamant on continuing his journey looking for the Black Monster after the war, Lavitz is kinda right that maybe he should focus on the present instead of chasing after the past, otherwise he's going to lose his chance at happiness with Shana. Omgg, Albert offering up himself at Hellena Prison to protect the people of Bale from Imperial Sandora?? This is when Lavitz dies...isn't it?😭 Well, I obviously didn't farm enough to get Flower Storm for Lavitz and I honestly cbb, but I did Google to see it, and apparently when Lavitz does it, he says Rose Storm (because he likes roses the most apparently) and Albert says Blossom Storm because his favourite is cherry blossoms! The even cooler thing is that this is changed in their Dragoon forms! Lavitz's second magic skill is called Blossom Storm with cherry blossoms all around, and Albert's is Rose Storm so they kinda swap around in Dragoon form to show their love and camaraderie with each other, it's so cool! Honestly though, I nearly cried when Lavitz died. I feel like when I was a kid, I never really saw how cool, loyal and kind Lavitz was because the Additions were too fascinating lol, so now seeing how friendly he was, how considerate he was towards Shana's feelings for Dart, how he gave advice to Dart on what he should cherish most, and how we was always willing to give his life to his king and his country, it really broke my heart to see him die like that. Especially in Lloyd's hands, someone who we thought was an admirable swordsman turned out to be the guy who would kill Lavitz when they actually fought against each other. I'm not sure what kinda sword he has but it seemed really beam-y lol. And what is the Moon Gem that he needed from Albert's body? I think the pain really hit me when Lavitz entrusted everything to Dart, and then the Jade Dragoon Spirit flew out of him😭😭 Ohh, the reason why Lloyd could so easily pierce through Lavitz's Dragoon armour was because his sword was the Dragon Buster, a weapon from the old world made to kill Dragons! It's really nice of Haschel to have come along with them btw, especially since he's on a journey to find his daughter. Although I guess it's not much of a deterrence considering he's been looking for 20 years, but still. I guess he'll find her along the way... Hopefully. So, the Moon Gem was one of the magical artifacts scattered across the world made from the Winglies after their defeat, but only they can use them? It's been hidden in each crown heir every generation in fear of the powers of destruction it could bring when put in the wrong hands hmm, I'm kinda amazed they found a way to put it in the body like that though. I guess now that Albert's kingdom is "gone", he's got a reason to go along with us to end this war with the few people and Dragoons he has. I mean, if the Dragoons ended the Dragon Campaign, I'm sure they're better than an army anyway lol. It's kinda nice that the one who taught Albert his lance skills was Lavitz himself, so it's understandable that he would use the same moves. Anyway, onwards to the Black Castle where Emperor Doel resides! Straight to the end of the war hopefully!

Lmao at the guy registering to be a mercenary with Imperial Sandora trying to revoke it after his friend told him about the Dragon being defeated and Hellena Prison having fallen. Wow, I restarted because I accidentally sold something but omg when you say you want to register, the guy taking registrations advises you to not and even gives you money if you have money problems because he doesn't want you to risk your life! He's so nice... Aww the people at the inn! When the lady begged for us to stay and treat it like charity, I felt like I couldn't be stingy lol, it's only 20G anyway. LOL at the guy trying to con people for their money by claiming he killed Feyrbrand (Jade Dragon) and then he gets arrested hahahah. The variety of researchers in the Black Castle are hilarious, especially Mr Magi who turned himself into "Cerberus" but really turned into a dog lol. But the research of Dragons and magic? This sounds suspicious and bad... The battle against Kongol was so annoying! His skills take so long lol! Defeating Doel felt like...bringing someone back to their sanity? I wonder why he had to kill Albert's father back then, was it really just to be king? Anyway, it's not nice to be happy about someone's death, but honestly, with Emperor Doel's death, the 20 year war finally ends... But our journey has not, because as Dart said, this journey began because people captured Shana, and after that too many things have happened to just go home and live peacefully, we need to see what Lloyd wants and whether Emperor Diaz really is alive.

Anyway, that's the end of chapter 1! Kinda crazy that it was only one chapter tbh, I felt like I finished a story but really, it's just the beginning. So many things happened... Especially Lavitz's death. Anyway, I'm hyped to continue the journey! Btw the battle against Emperor Doel was pretty hard, he deals so much damage lol! But then again, I'm always cheap with my healing potions hahaha. Didn't think he'd be a Dragoon though, but I guess it was to be expected lol. Yay for everyone having a Dragoon Spirit now though lol. Honestly though, I really enjoy the variety of battles and how engaging the story and characters are. I really like how there are battles that are more as a symbolism than an actual battle such as Shirley’s where you’re supposed to give her the correct answers rather than defeating her, I think it really makes you think about everyone’s motivations and how they deal with it all in order to continue on their path. I just love it. The towns are also so different and fun! Like, Lohan is just a bumble of shops and everything, gotta love the guy that shouts at you for running around the rooftop lol, and Bale is just so Albert and Lavitz centred that it has such a warm feeling when you’re there. Tournaments are always my thing, so I’m glad this game has it too haha~ I can’t wait to see the rest!

#the legend of dragoon #legend of dragoon

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 6 years

Text

Pink and Black Roses: A Watford Cove Wedding

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Light Angst

Word Count: 7764

Summary: Eleven years after they first met in Watford Cove, Simon and Baz are getting married. Based on "frightened kiss" request.

Read on AO3

AN: I’m still working on the knight and warlock fic, don’t worry, but this is already done and edited so I want to get it up cause I'm so excited to post it. It's the last request of the 2018 batch, and I thought we needed to go out with a bang. So here's a future fic sequel to Watford Cove! Enjoy :D

———————————————

Simon

“Is my hair alright?” I ask. Penny sighs as she’s adjusting my tie.

“Your hair looks fine, Simon,” she says.

“Is it really?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“But maybe-”

“Simon!” She steps around me, standing between the mirror and I. Her hands grip my shoulders hard. Not tight enough to hurt but enough to keep me steady. “Stop fussing, you’re fine. Not just your hair, you. Stop panicking. Nothing is going to go wrong. And even if something does, stay focused on the goal.”

I snort, a wholly undignified sound for a grown twenty eight year old man I’m told. Like I care. “You sound like Baz’s uni football coach.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m probably smarter.”

“You definitely are, Pen, always.”

She smiles smugly, nose up in the air. “Of course I am.” I chuckle and hold her forearms. A lot of my nerves are already melting away. I don’t know what I’d do without Penelope. “Now, your tie is far more straight than you are.” I snort again. “We should probably get out there with everyone else.”

“Agreed.”

“You’ve got everything, right? Vows, ring, big smile?”

I reach into my pink suit jacket, feeling a piece of paper and and cool metal on my finger tips. I grin wide, all the way to my ears. “Yeah, all good.”

Penelope nods once, then reaches down to firmly hold my hand. “Awesome. Then let’s go.”

We walk together, arms swinging slightly, out the door of the powder room towards the main entry. There’s two doors between us and the main room of the Watford Cove Event Hall. Baz is walking down the aisle first with his party so he’s on the other side. (I wish I could push the doors open and see him.) My party is here, milling about and getting ready. Agatha keeps shifting around her black flower crown with a small frown.

“It doesn’t feel right,” she grumbles.

I stroll up to her and put her crown centre. She turns to me, and immediately grins.

“There,” I say, “perfect.”

“Hey Simon, how are you doing?”

“Honestly? I’m freaking out. But I’m also happy.”

“You better be! I don’t want to be wearing this silly crown thing for nothing.”

I frown and put my hands on my hips. “It’s not silly, it’s cute.”

Her mouth quirks up, one hand on her pink skirt. “Yeah, I suppose it is, even if it’s a pain to wear.” She looks around at the room with a hint of awe. “This whole ceremony is beautiful, really. I’m happy to be a part of it.”

I grin in full force again. Agatha is really nice. We met in uni, sitting together in an intro art class. She noticed how terrified I was to share my work and helped me calm down. We started chatting, and immediately became friends. Penny quickly came to like her too, but Baz took a little longer. He was even a bit jealous because he thought she had a crush on me. Agatha quickly dispelled that notion by introducing us to her girlfriend. Baz felt like an idiot, and I showed immense restraint by only teasing him for a minute. Now we’re all close friends. Close enough that Agatha agreed to fly all the way from California to be a groom’s maid in my wedding.

“Thanks,” I say. “Glad you’re here too.” I look out at all three of them, dressed in pink and black, different parts of my heart. “Glad you’re all here.”

“I’m happy to be here!” Micah chimes in. “This is all so awesome. And I feel like a pinterest photo in this suit.” He spins around, pink jacket flapping about while his black rose boutonniere flys off. Penny sighs as she picks it up.

“Careful, love,” she says. “Black roses are expensive, you only get one of these.”

Micah leans forward and kisses the top of her head, just under her own black flower crown. There’s nothing but affection in his eyes. “Understood, dear.”

Damn, years later and they’re still so sweet. Penelope met Micah long before she met me, when he was an exchange student at Watford High in Year 10. Apparently their connection was instant. Pen was already talking about marriage in high school, and the two went through with it right after uni graduation. They’re very happy. I hope my marriage is as good as Penny and Micah’s. Though looking at mine and Baz’s relationship for the past eleven years, I’d say that’s pretty well guaranteed. We’ve been through a lot, yet we’re still together. Being married will be fucking incredible.

“Are we all ready?” Gran walks in, dressed like a fancy lady. She looks great in her pale pink skirt suit with her hair all done up like a duchess or something. She’s got a black rose boutonniere too. It’s apparently a wedding thing to have flowers everywhere. Not that I mind, I love flowers. Hence why I’m wearing some on my head.

“As long as I don’t sick up, then yeah,” I chuckle.

Gran sighs, shaking her head. “You’re not going to sick up, Simon. You always say you will and you don’t.”

“Agreed!” Penny oh so helpfully adds in. I glare over my shoulder, and she sticks her tongue out. We may be fully fledged adults, but in some ways, we’re very much still children.

“You’re going to be fine, darling.” Gran reaches up to adjust my crown. It’s the one I’ve had since I was seventeen. Gran bought it for me on my first day in Watford Cove. It’s just a little line of pink rosebuds across the top of my head, simple but pretty. Gran said that the one time my Mum was able to phone her while with my Dad, she called me her rosebud boy. My Mum called me such sweet things, and didn’t even live long enough for me to remember them myself.

“You’re thinking about your Mum, aren’t you?” Gran whispers, snapping me out of it. She’s got a tiny, sad smile on her face. I nod slowly.

“Y-Yeah. Sorta wondering what she’d think and all. It’s inevitable, I guess.”

Gran nods. She moves both hands to my front, holding my jacket. Her smile is still small but very kind. “Well, I think I knew my own daughter pretty well, so I can tell you a few things for sure.” I can see the way her eyes are quivering. She’s trying to keep from crying. “My darling Lucy loved you before you were even born, Simon. So she would be incredibly happy that you have found true love. If she were here, she’d be walking you down the aisle instead of me.”

Fuck, that hits me right in the heart in the best way. I smile, a few tears falling down my cheeks. “Darn it, Gran,” I chuckle, “I didn’t want to start crying until the vows at least.”

“Sorry, love.” She wipes at my face with her silk handkerchief. “Don’t worry, you’ve still got enough tears in you for Basil.”

“Oh definitely. I’m going to be a fucking waterfall.”

“Language, love.”

“Sorry, Gran. I’m just nervous.”

She cups my cheek, running a thumb under my eye to catch a stray tear. “I know, darling, I know. Don’t worry, it will be great.” There’s a thumping on the door, making me jump and my breath catch. That’s our signal. Gran holds out her arm for me with a grin. “Showtime, Simon.”

I nod rapidly, and take her thin arm in mine. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Agatha, Micah, and Penny line up in front of us. Agatha knocks back, and the oak doors swing open. The three start slowly walking forward. I take a deep breath, and follow behind.

The Event Hall is insane. Despite being a small town, Watford Cove apparently expected to host huge galas or something, it’s enormous. The ceiling is high and curved, decorated with a fancy mosaic. The walls are intimidating dark wood with pretty carvings. Though they’re covered up with flower garlands right now. The rose garlands are alternating pink and black, like the rest of our decorations, because we’re cheesy and like to stick to our aesthetics. As Gran and I walk forward, everyone’s standing up from their benches. And I mean everyone. We ended up inviting a lot of people. My aunt and uncle, my cousins, Aunt Fiona, Mitali, Martin, Penny’s siblings, Baz’s siblings, his extended family, his uni friends, my uni friends, Mr. and Mrs. Wellbelove, even Ebb and her twin brother. I can feel all their eyes on me. I gulp down my nervous lump and try to keep smiling at them.

But when I look at the altar, well, I don’t have any trouble smiling at all.

He’s standing right there, right at the end of aisle, grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear under a canopy of black and pink silk. His suit isn’t very traditional either. Malcolm nearly had a heart attack when Baz announced what he wanted to wear to the ceremony, but it looks amazing. A leather jacket pairs surprisingly well with a black button down and slacks. A pink rose is attached his lapel, same as Dev and Niall next to him, while Mordelia has a pink flower crown on her head. Baz’s hair is slicked back, but a few strands falling in front of his pretty face. I have to resist the urge to run up and tackle kiss him. This is supposed to be a serious event dammit. Even though I’m wearing a flower crown and he’s wearing a biker jacket.

Gran walks me to the steps and we stop. She kisses my cheek. I can feel a few saltwater drops hit my skin. I’m pretty sure a few are mine too. I hold her hand as I climb the white steps. Just as I reach the top, I turn back. Gran gives me one last big smile from below. I smile back, mouthing “thank you.” She nods once, and we let go.

But Baz is right there to catch my hand.

He pulls me the last step towards him. We stand facing each other, both hands together. I’m grinning, I can’t stop grinning. My heart is about to burst out of my chest.

“Hi,” I whisper. It’s all I can manage. My brain is too overwhelmed to think of words.

“Hi,” he replies. “Glad you could make it.”

I chuckle. “Same to you.”

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Please be seated,” Mr. Kelly, our officiant says, loud enough that I know he means to shut us up. Baz gives me fake look of deference. It makes grin even harder. Christ, I really can’t stop grinning.

“Today,” he announces, “we are here to witness the union between two men I hope you all know.” A chuckle rumbles through the crowd. “And it will be my job to officiate the marriage between Simon Snow Salisbury and Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.” I squeeze Baz’s hands. He squeezes back. “I’ve gotten to know these two wonderful men over the past few weeks. They’re very smart, very kind, and very much in love. They’re one of those rare, beautiful cases of finding true love at a young age. And it’s my honour today to help them celebrate their union and make it legally official. Now, I believe the grooms have their own vows prepared. Who would like to go first?”

Baz and I already decided who would go first. We both know I’ll be a complete mess after hearing Baz’s vows, so I need to go first. Baz and I (reluctantly) let our hands go. I take the folded note paper out of my suit pocket. My hands are shaking but I’m still able to read the words.

“Baz,” I start, “as you and everyone else knows, I’m not that great with words. So it took me awhile to figure out what to say. How can I just, summarise everything about you in words? We’ve been together for a very long time and I I know you better than anyone. So I know that you’re a lot Baz, and I mean that in a good way.”

“I hope so,” Baz says with a smirk. The crowd laughs with us.

“Don’t worry, I really do. You’ve always been a lot in a good way. I still remember the day we first met. You held your head high, like you could take on the world. I couldn’t look away, and I really haven’t stopped looking ever since, I guess. That was just the start though. I soon found out you were ‘a lot’ in other ways too. A lot charming, a lot funny, a lot kind, a lot of just everything good. You’re a really great person, Baz. You amaze me all the time. You’re the strongest, most astounding person I know. Being with you is always a new adventure. Sure, we’ve had our ups and down.” (We have small fights over dumb stuff but only a few big fights really, like our pre relationship fall out or brief break up after uni, aka the worst three months of my fucking life.)

“But ever since high school, I’ve always been happier with you. No one makes me feel like you do, even eleven years later. So, yeah, I don’t want to be with anyone else ever. I just want to marry you. And when we’re married, I promise to listen to your weird music, to repaint your nails when they’re chipped, to hold onto you tight and never let go, and just, y’know, love and care for you for the rest of our lives. I mean that with all my heart, because you’re the best thing in the world. That’s, uh, that’s it.”

I take a deep breath as I put the paper back in my pocket. Slowly, I look back up at Baz. He seems to be awestruck I think. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open slightly, tears welling in his eyes, but also happy. He can’t be too surprised. He must know all this already. I’ve said this stuff before in in pieces at different times. Maybe hearing it all together and in public is weird. I reach out and squeeze his hand. He smiles and squeezes back.

“Dammit,” he chuckles, “I’m supposed to be coherent for this, love.”

I along with everyone else laughs. Baz takes his own deep breath, looking more nervous than I’ve ever seen him. Even as he pulls his own note paper out, he keeps holding my hand. I think he needs to. I don’t mind, I won’t let go.

“Dear Simon,” he says, “I’m writing this three days previous at my desk, trying to figure out what to say on our wedding day, You’re sleeping four feet away from me, curled up with our cat, drooling on your pillow.” I giggle and my face turns bright red. “I look at you and a small part of me is still astounded you want to be with me. You are bright everywhere I'm dark. For awhile I felt unworthy because you were so perfect. But I've learned you aren't this untouchable ray of sunshine. You're even better. You're a real person with problems and fears, who has come out of horrible things tougher but not jaded. And because we’re both messed up, we've learned to be messed up together. We keep each other sane. You're my boyfriend and my partner. l'm more grounded with you by my side. So I’ve realised perfect is too simple a word for you. You’re kind, caring, funny, strong, and incredible, Simon, and I'm amazed by you everyday too. I feel better with you, and I have almost since the day we met. As I write this now, watching you sleep in our bed, there are things I want to make sure you know at our wedding.”

He looks up at me, gazing right in my eye. It’s impossible for me to look away. “I promise to watch your stupid romcoms all the way to the end, to get you sour cherry scones when you’re sad, to support your art even if it means lugging around enormous canvases, and to always help you pick what pastel outfit you should wear. But most of all, I promise to be there for you, no matter what. You’re the love of my life, Simon Snow Salisbury. I already know we’re going to be together forever, but I can’t wait to be married to you as well.”

I sniffle without shame. How the fuck am I not supposed to cry after that? We agreed to both have promises in our vows, but that’s all I knew before today. I want to snog him right now, other people be damned. But Gran would be upset. So I settle for just squeezing his hand. Baz squeezes back, and after putting his paper away, he reaches up to carefully wipe at my eyes. I can’t wait to be married to him too.

“Very beautiful vows” Mr. Kelly says, and he sounds a little teary himself. “My words absolutely cannot follow up, but I’ll try.” Everyone laughs through their quiet crying. “Simon Snow Salisbury, do you wish to be bound in matrimony to this man, till death do you part?”

“I do,” I say without hesitation.

“And Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, do you wish to be bound in matrimony to this man, till death do you part?”

“I do,” he says immediately too.

“Perfect, good to hear. You may exchange the rings.”

Baz lets one of my hands drop and squeezes the other. “You go first, love.”

My throat is still too choked up to do anything but nod. I take the ring out of my pocket. Since our styles clash so much, Baz and I decided to get rings made in the same design but made from different materials. They’re both smooth on each side with braided metal in the middle. (I don’t know how it’s done, but it looks so cool.) Baz’s is black tungsten with a silver braid. It matches his leather jacket perfectly. I easily slip it over his long, bony finger.

“Now your turn,” I say.

Baz eagerly brings out my ring. It’s rose gold on the outside with a regular gold braid. Baz grins at me as he puts it on. The metal is cold right now. But I know eventually it will warm up, because I’m never taking off unless I really have to. And maybe I won’t even then.

“By the power vested in me by the Government of Great Britain,” Mr. Kelly says grandly, “I pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom.”

Mr. Kelly is barely done speaking before Baz and I are leaning forward. Baz cups my cheeks tenderly, I grip his forearms, and our mouths meet in a simple kiss. But it’s not simple. It’s our first kiss as husbands. And that makes it incredible. I’m so lost in the warm feeling of his lips I barely hear the applause and huge cheers from the crowd. We reluctantly part for politeness sake. Baz and I are both grinning and crying. We probably look ridiculous, but who the fuck cares? We’re allowed to look ridiculous right now.

“We’re married,” Baz whispers.

“We’re married,” I echo, equally shocked and so fucking happy.

Baz weaves our fingers together, then turns us to face the crowd. It’s quite a sight to see. All our family and friends, standing up, cheering for us with big smiles. My eyes meet Gran’s. Her smile is softer, and her claps aren’t as hard, but everything is said in the way she looks at me. Congratulations, she says with no words, I’m so proud of you.

I smile as wide as I can back at her.

Me and Baz step off the riser together. Baz raises our hands together, earning a particularly loud cheer from all our loved ones. The cool metal of Baz’s ring presses hard into my skin.

I’m so goddamn happy.

———————————————

Though it’s a bit tedious, taking the wedding photos is a lot of fun. The edge of the Wavering Wood is right near the hall. It’s a flat field with lots of beautiful trees and flowers in the background. The photographer is one of Baz’s many cousins, and he’s very good. He gets us to do many different poses. Some are serious, like looking at each other longingly under a willow tree branch, and some are funny, like Baz suddenly hoisting me up off my feet while I giggle in shock. I’m pretty sure I’m going to love all of them.

We take a lot of photos with our family and friends too. Gran, the Grimms, our wedding parties, some pictures separate and some together. I notice the that first Grimm photo is, well, a bit grim. I tell Baz to smile more, and he glares at first, but does. The others follow suit. They still look stiff, but it’s better. I’m more than pleased.

Baz is taking a picture with his siblings when my phone buzzes. I look down and don’t recognise the number. But Tibby, fellow community centre employee and indie artist, said she was getting a new number soon.

“Fuck, I have to go get this,” I grumble.

“Simon,” Baz groans, looking at me and probably ruining his photo. “C’mon.”

“It might be Tibby! She said she’d call me if our art got into the New Artist's show at Maureen Paley.” Baz still looks upset. I walk up and kiss his cheek, lightly touching his ring. “Two minutes, okay?”

Baz sighs with affectionate exasperation. “Fine, two minutes.”

I kiss his cheek again then dash off across the field. I answer the phone on the last ring. “Hey, Tibby. Did we get it? I’m a bit busy so can you-”

“Hello, Simon.”

I freeze. My blood runs ice cold. The ground is opening up underneath me, I swear. I can feel my muscles shaking so hard I nearly drop the phone. It takes a good few seconds for me to find my voice again.

“Hi, Dad,” I say shakily. “H-How did you get this number? I changed it last year.”

“You have an artist’s Facebook page, son. It was easy enough.”

Shit. I’m going to delete that the second I get home. “Oh, okay. Why are you calling?”

“I heard you were getting married today.”

“Oh,” I squeak. “Um, yeah, I am. Well, I did. But...how did you find out? You don’t follow me on social media, and we haven’t talked in awhile.” How could he know? He shouldn’t know. Fucking hell, he can’t know.

“I met a member of the Grimm family at an education conference last year. We followed each other on Facebook. He just posted a picture from his cousin Basilton’s wedding, and imagine my surprise when I saw my own son kissing the groom. So, did my invitation get lost in the mail?”

I gulp down the lump that has suddenly formed in my throat. “It’s, uh, small. There aren’t a lot of people...”

“Not enough space for your own father?”

God, I forgot how quick he is. How easily he can turn the conversation back to his side. I pull at my hair almost painfully. “I-it’s just, Dad, I-”

I take a deep breath, reminding myself I’m not that weak kid he can pick on anymore. I’m twenty eight years old now, dammit. I have a life, a job, a wonderful husband, nothing he can take away. I don’t have to be scared anymore.

“Dad,” I say firmly, “you weren’t invited. Whatever bit of good relationship we had is long gone. You don’t approve of anything in my life. Not my profession, not my sexuality, not even my fashion sense. I wanted to enjoy my wedding day. Which meant you couldn’t be here.”

There’s a long pause. My heart beats faster with every passing second, but I did it. I stood up to him. After all these years, I can finally tell him off. At least a bit. But that’s more than ever before. I did it, I did it, I di-

“You insolent little brat, how dare you?” he growls. And all of my confidence blinks away in an instant. “After everything I’ve done for you. All I ever did was try to raise you to be better, but you spit in my face. You’re just bloody useless. You’re a complete idiot, a moron, a leech, Simon!”

He keeps going on, and all I can do is stand there. Just stand and listen to my father tear into me. I can’t move. I’m a kid all over again, listening as my father loudly berates me for whatever new screw up I had done. My whole body is shaking, tears streaming down my face, every muscle in my body shaking. I can’t even put down the fucking phone.

“I wish you were never born,” he yells. “You’ve never been anything but a disappointment, you stupid little f-”

The phone is suddenly ripped out of my hand. A familiar hand holds my shoulder. Baz stands in front of me. His face is completely impassive. I know that face, he’s in cold arsehole mode.

“Hello,” Baz says. “This is the man Simon just married. I’m here to tell you that as long as I’m around, you will not hurt him anymore. And you absolutely will not ruin his wedding day, understood? No,” he growls, cold cruelty turning into fury, “ you listen to me, you prick. The second I hang up I’m going to block this number. Don’t contact my husband ever again, or I’ll use all our family’s considerable wealth and influence to ruin your goddamn life. Goodbye.”

Baz hangs up and blocks the number, just like he said he would. Then he immediately wraps his arms around me. I sink into his embrace and bury my face in his shoulder, racked with full body sobs. Baz just keeps holding me.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s over. He won’t hurt you anymore. It’s alright, love.”

“I’m sorry,” I choke out. “I-I shouldn’t have answered, I’m-”

“None of that, love. It wasn’t your fault. You haven’t heard from him in six years, of course you wouldn’t think it was him.”

I sniffle very unattractively. “H-He saw a photo, of us, today. He asked why he wasn’t invited, and I told me the real reason, a-and he went off at me, and I-

“Shh, it’s alright, I heard. You stood up for yourself, you courageous fuck. I’m so goddamn proud of you.”

“You-You heard?”

“Yes. Well, the last part. I saw you go stiff and I got worried so I got closer, but I didn’t want to step in unless you needed me. I heard the of your amazing speech to him, and I thought everything would be alright. I was walking away when I heard you crying. I don’t know what he said, love, but I don’t care. Whatever it was, he will never talk to you like that again. I promise, okay?”

I nod against his shoulder. “O-Okay.”

We stand there for awhile, me gripping his suit and him stroking my hair. Baz keeps holding me up, like he always has for me, like I have for him too. Without a second thought, I tilt my head up to kiss him. It’s not hard or forceful, just firm. Baz kisses me back, swiping his thumb across my cheek and holding my waist. Our lips slowly slide together. Baz pulls me even closer. With every passing second of him kissing me, all my old fears melt away. They go back into the past where they belong. My father can’t hurt me anymore. He never will again, not as long as Baz is here. I’m glad Baz feels grounded with me. Because I absolutely feel grounded with him too.

We pull apart, even though I’d gladly kiss him forever. “Come on,” he whispers, “only a few more photos and we get to go to the reception.”

I nod, weaving my fingers with his. “Alright. Thank you.”

He places a last peck on my temple. “Anytime, love.”

We go back to the group. Gran notices my face immediately. She takes out her ever present handkerchief and dabs under my eyes and tells me to blow my nose with it. Penny squeezes my hand, Micah puts an arm around me, and Agatha gives me a sympathetic look. None of them why I was crying. I’m very grateful, because if I talk about it I’ll start crying again. I’ll tell them later though. They deserve to know.

The rest of the photos go off without a hitch. Well, not any big hitches. Micah gives me bunny ears in one photo, which makes Agatha snort and Penny roll her eyes with a smile. Dev, Niall, and Mordelia lift Baz up on his side, causing my lovely husband to let out a string of curses at them in both English and Greek. We get a final picture with all our family and friends, who are family too. Not my father, though. I don’t need him. These are the people I care about, and care about me in return, far more than he ever did.

———————————————

The reception is held in the Event Hall dining room. It’s covered in similar decorations, lots of pink and black everywhere. I love it. It's sort of how our flat is decorated, honestly. Our wedding parties sit at the head table, but we have to go “work the room” as Baz calls it.

“I want food,” I whine.

“We’ll get food soon, love,” Baz sighs. “We just have to go be nice to people.

“People are gross.”

Baz giggles, leaning against me. “That’s my line.”

I lean into him more. “We’re married, so what’s mine is yours now, remember?”

He giggles again. It’s a really pretty sound. “I suppose you have a point.”

I kiss him quickly, and we go off towards the tables. Everyone is very nice, congratulating us, wishing us a happy marriage. Ebb is weepy of course, saying how proud she is of me after all I went through, and I thank her for being here and always being my friend. I pick up my little cousin while Baz talks to one of his uncles, and she tries to take off my flower crown and rip my hair out. I don’t mind. She’s too adorable to stay mad at. Baz’s Aunt Fiona gives us both huge bear hugs and messes up our hair. We spent so much time with her during uni she’s pretty much become my aunt too. My art school friends ask if I’m going to make a wedding sketch series like I mentioned. One of Baz’s older relatives asks when we’re going to have a baby, because "the gays can do that now, right?" We get away from her quite quickly. It’s an enjoyable, slightly exhausting whirlwind.

Eventually, we finally get to sit and eat. I fall into my chair with a groan.

“Tired, Si?” Penelope asks with a smirk.

“Shut up,” I grumble.

“Now you know how I felt at my wedding, Si. Bloody exhausting affair, getting married.”

“Amen, Penny.”

The catering staff brings out the first course, French onion soup, and I immediately drink it down. Baz tells me to slow down but I’m so fucking hungry. I was so nervous this morning I barely ate. I wolf down the main course too. It’s chicken cordon bleu, Baz’s favourite. Honestly, it’s sort of become my favourite too. Some of his posh tastes have rubbed off on me in our eleven years, of course. Some of my tastes have rubbed off on him too. He really likes sour cherry scones now, which I find absolutely amazing.

Before the cake, our parents/caregivers go up and do speeches. Gran goes first. She talks about how glad she was to take care of, what a good person I am, and how elated she is that I’ve found happiness in art and with Baz. She says she looks forward to seeing more of the incredible things I do. I hug her fiercely, thanking her again for everything she’s given me. I can never thank her enough for that.

Mr. Grimm goes next. He’s stoic of course but very sweet, saying he’s glad Baz is happy with me. At the very end, he admits that he hasn’t always been the best father, but he’s very proud of the man Baz has become and Natasha would’ve been too. I grip Baz’s hand very tight at that. I can see him holding back a lot of tears. (Years of therapy has helped with a lot of his guilt over his mum’s death, but it’s still a hard subject.) Baz thanks his father, and even hugs him. Wow. That usually only happens at Christmas after a glass of wine.

Penny of course makes a speech too. She’s equal parts sarcastic and kind, saying how she really fucking hated people until she met me. That I'm a very good friend who she's glad she met. And even though she didn’t like Baz at first, she’s seen how happy he makes me, so she’ll let him stick around.

“It’s not like I’ll go anywhere she tells me to,” he mutters with a pleased smile. I sigh heavily. These two, my god, what am I going to do with them?

Dev and Niall make a speech together. They tell embarrassing stories about Baz from their childhood together, making Baz glare and flush. I try to stifle my laughter but it’s useless. They say I'm the best influence on Baz, and he's been far happier since almost the moment he met me, even before we were together. That's nice to hear. The pair congratulates us at the end, wishing us years of wedded bliss. And Baz does smile. So he’s not that mad, really.

“Time for cake?” I eagerly ask.

“Yes,” Baz says with a smile, “time for cake.”

The caterers roll in the huge three layer cake. Keeping with the theme, it’s black and pink with lots of flowers. They’re super realistic looking even though they’re made from sugar. I want to eat all of them. Baz and I cut it together to a round of polite applause. The cake is cherry red velvet. I didn’t know that flavour existed until we started look at different kinds of cakes. Baz and I agreed to it almost immediately. So of course I eat three slices.

“Simon, you’re going to be sick,” Agatha says.

“I’ll live,” I reply, waving my fork.

“Will you really?” Baz drawls sarcastically. “Because I am not dealing with cherry scented vomit. Again.”

My cheeks go bright red. “That was one time! How was I supposed to know cherry flavoured beer was a bad idea?!”

“Because the name itself sounds like regret,” Penelope oh so helpfully adds in.

“Exactly, Bunce.”

I stick out my tongue at both of them. “Like you’re one to talk,” I grumble, “you fell off your motorbike while trying to pop a wheelie on a hill.”

It’s Baz’s turn to look embarrassed, flush crawling up his pretty face. Dev, Niall, and Mordelia all start laughing at him. Not even Baz's glare shuts them up. “That was one time,” he grumbles.

I put my hand over his, spinning his ring around. “Yup. Aren’t we a pair, love?”

He chuckles and flips his hand over, lacing our fingers together. “That we are, darling, that we are.”

Once we’re done the cake, we’re told it’s time for our first dance. I’m a bit nervous because I’m a pretty terrible dancer. Baz and I have been practicing in preparation for today, but I’m still nervous. I hope I don’t fuck it up.

We stand in the middle of the dance floor. The room gets a bit dimmer, replaced with coloured lights, making everything a bit more quiet and romantic. Baz looks at me, half his face illuminated in silver and pink light. His smile is literally shining. As if he could get anymore dazzling. His arm wraps around my waist, I hold his leather clad shoulder, and our hands stick out together. His ring presses into my skin again. I like that, a lot.

“Ready?” he asks.

“No,” I chuckle, “but let’s do it.”

The music starts. It’s an acoustic version of one of Baz’s weird pop punk love songs. I like things soft and he likes things punk, it’s a happy middle ground, like the rest of our relationship. And we start dancing.

Honestly, it’s barely more than swaying. We move in a small circle on the smooth floor. But I don’t step his feet, which is a vast improvement from usual. There’s barely any room between us, just how I like it. The song floats through the air, surrounding us in it’s quiet melody and soft lyrics.

Suddenly, I’m 17 all over again, dancing with Baz in my room to Troye Sivan the night before he might’ve left. I was so terrified back then, desperate to keep Baz with me, and he was desperate to keep me too. That night was such a teen romance cliche, but I don’t regret it at all, and neither does Baz. Thankfully, we aren’t scared anymore. We’ve known for a long time that neither of us are going anywhere. And I’m reminded of that by the way he looks unflinchingly in the eye. I don’t look away either. I quickly realise there’s something I still haven’t said today.

“I love you,” I say, quietly, just as the song ends.

Baz’s grin gets even wider. He leans down, forehead pressed to mine. Everyone is cheering around us, but all I hear is his voice.

“I know,” he whispers, “I love you too.”

We keep our foreheads together for another moment. Unfortunately I can’t snog him silly right now. Maybe later. (Definitely later.) We bow to our adoring friends and family. They all look so happy. There’s barely a trace of Davy’s words left in my mind. He can’t ruin today. He can’t ruin anything anymore and never will again. My life is too strong to let him.

We invite everyone to come to the dance with us. The music picks up into one of my favourite pop tunes. I’m almost immediately jumping to the beat. My crown nearly flies off I’m so enthusiastic, making Baz snort with laughter. Soon everyone is dancing happily. Agatha is actually literally swing dancing with her girlfriend, laughing loudly. I dance with everyone I can. Swanning about with Gran, jumping with my groom’s maids and man, letting my little cousin stand on my feet. I see Baz doing similar things with his friends and family. He’s doing a sort of waltz with Daphne, and I’m chatting with my uncle. We smile at each other. It may just be my mind tricking me, but I swear my ring warms up a bit.

———————————————

“Have you got enough clothes?” Gran asks.

“Yes, Gran,” I reply.

“Toiletries?”

“Yes.”

“Food? You do get hungry-”

“Gran,” I hold both her hands firmly, “I’m fine. I’ve got everything we need, alright?”

She takes a deep breath, though her mouth is still a thin line. “I’m just unsure how you and Basil can fit all you need in that backpack.”

She indicates my camping bag, which is, in my opinion, quite large enough. “I promise you, Gran, it’s fine. Plus we’ve got Baz’s enormous tail bag too. You could fit a country in there.”

“No complaining about the tail bag when it’s going to hold all your snacks, Salisbury,” Baz says from where he’s sitting on his bike. He was talking to Dev and Niall, but he has damn super hearing, the wonderful bastard. I stick my tongue out at him.

I look back at Gran, who’s still nervous. I step closer. “We’ll be fine. If we don’t have something we need, we’ll just pick it up along the way.”

“Will you be safe though?”

“I’ve ridden on Baz’s motorcycle many times before and I’m still here.”

She frowns, obviously annoyed. “Not for three weeks straight across the UK and Ireland. What if it breaks down?”

“Baz just got a tune up, but if there are any problems, he'll fix them. He's got his toolkit in the infinite tail bag.”

"What about your jobs?"

"The community centre loves me. They were more than happy to give me a month off for my honeymoon. And Baz isn't teaching any summer courses this year so the university doesn't need him until late August."

"What if you get lost?"

"Baz has stuff memorized and we've got GPS, but," I pat my enormous bag, "I've also got a physical map in here with our route drawn out in case our phones die."

“Alright...”

She still looks very nervous, because of course she is. Gran shows her love by fussing. The day I moved to London she was a nervous mess. I wish she wouldn’t worry, but I appreciate her caring. I kiss her forehead.

“I’ll be alright, Gran,” I say. “We'll be back here having dinner with you and everyone else before you know it. Okay?” Watford Cove is our last stop before going back to London, of course. We’ll be having a big feast with both sides of the family. It’ll certainly be a good end to a long trip.

That makes some of the tension fall from her body. “Okay. Call me when you can?”

“Of course.” I look to my left, at Penny, Micah, and Agatha. “And you guys will keep the flat in order right? And make sure Cherry is good? He gets jumpy so you’ve got to play with him for a little while. And he needs two meals a day. And-”

“We know, Si,” Penny says, rolling her eyes.

“We’ve got your checklists,” Micah adds in.

“First week and a half will be mine and Felicia's job,” Agatha says, repeating what we agreed on. “Then we'll go back to California and I’ll hand off cat and house sitting duties to Penelope and Micah for the next week and a half.”

“And I’m taking yours and Basil’s suits home for safe keeping,” Gran says cheerily.

I grin. Of course I already knew all that, but it’s good to hear it again. “Awesome. We’ll call to check in, and call us if you need to.”

Penny waves dismissively. “Don’t call us, Si. Everything will be fine. Go enjoy your honeymoon. We’ll clean up the reception, hold onto your fancy clothes, and take care of your nightmare pet well, trust us.”

I pout. “Cherry isn’t a nightmare, just energetic.”

“Mhm, right.” She pushes lightly on my shoulders. “Now go have fun. And don’t crash into anything, please.”

“Don’t insult my driving, Bunce.” Baz calls back. “I’ve had a motorbike for over a decade and haven’t crashed once.”

“But you’ve almost crashed more times than I can remember.”

Baz glares harder. But he holds out his hand, and Penny takes it. They shake once. “See you in three weeks, Bunce,” he says with a small smile. “Thank you, for everything.”

She shakes back, smiling too. “You’re welcome. Now get on with your honeymoon.”

“Will do, if Simon can get going.” He raises his eyebrow at me. I huff, blowing hair from my eyes.

“Hold your horses, we’ve got time”

“It’s getting dark, love. And we should get to the first hotel soon if we want to stay on schedule.”

“There’s a schedule?” Agatha asks a bit astounded.

“Oh yeah,” I snort. “Baz has our road trip planned down to bathroom breaks. For a punk, he loves to be all structured and shit.”

Baz holds his nose up, looking extremely snooty. “I like to know where I’m going, sue me. And you liked the trip schedule when I showed it to you, so fuck off, love.”

“I don’t think marriage is going to change much for you too,” Penelope chuckles quietly.

“Yeah,” I sigh dreamily with a big grin, “I know.”

Even though he’s a prick (I adore him, but he is), Baz has a point. We need to get going. I hug Gran, Agatha, Penny, and Micah as tight as I can. Baz hugs Malcolm, Daphne, Dev, Niall, Mordelia, and his other siblings. They stand together in front of the Event Hall, the lights from the end of the reception still shining from the windows. I zip up my floral leather jacket (20th birthday present from Baz) all the way up, put on my riding gloves over my ring, and secure my pale blue helmet. Baz throws on his own jet black helmet. It has silver vines that I painted on. I’m very proud of it. I sit on the bike and wind my arms around his waist, like I have a hundred times before, and like I will a hundred times more.

Baz looks at me over his shoulder, a glint in his beautiful eyes and a playful smirk on on his mouth.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

I almost say, I’d go anywhere with you, but that feels just a bit too cheesy. Maybe I’ll say it later. For now, I just nod, and say, “yeah, let’s get going.”

His smiles wider, and puts a hand on his visor. “Allons-y,” he says.

He still says that all the time, eleven years after our first kiss. I’m reminded of that night every time he says it. And I love it.

“Allons-y,” I reply.

We flip down our visors, give one last wave to our loved ones, and drive off into the dying light of the late of the evening. Baz drives us through Main Street. I recognise the places. Ms. Pritchard’s Bakery, the drug store with my favourite nail varnish, the park where I asked Baz to be my boyfriend, the ice cream parlour we all went to after graduating high school and then later uni, and a familiar hill in the distance; Where Mt. Olympus is, where I first kissed Baz, and where he proposed to me last Christmas. The memories race through my mind as we race through the streets.

Baz takes us up a hill. I get a lovely view of the entire town. It looks beautiful at night, with lights like stars and the sparkling lake in the distance. I hold Baz even tighter. I’m so unbelievably grateful for what I found in Watford Cove.

———————————————

Awwwww totally cheesy, I know. They deserve cheesy goodness after all the shit they went through. And here's a little insight into their future lives: yes, Baz is a university professor, but he refuses to change his fashion sense. He teaches a first year English 101 course (his hell) and a third year queer literature course (his heaven). He's everyone's fave prof because of how badass and sarcastic he is. Simon works at a community center with little children while still doing art on the side. He loves making kids happy and tries to be the kind of person for them that Ebb was for him growing up. For art, he does showings at local galleries, sells prints at hipster markets, and posts stuff on his tumblr blog. Simon and Baz are obviously still pretty damn in love. They have a date night once a week, drive around London on Baz's motorbike all the time, love to snuggle on the couch together to watch TV, all while living in a pastel pink flat covered in punk posters along with their nightmare cat, Cherry. In summary, they're very happy.

Two other things: this is the design I based their rings off of, and this is the song they dance to. Y'all might recognise it as the song where the title for one of the chapters of Watford Cove came from :) It's one of my fave songs ever so I'm absolutely projecting lol.

Thanks for reading, hope you liked this glimpse into the future of my punk/pastel Simon and Baz. I certainly enjoyed writing it. Watford Cove has always been one of my faves so returning to that world was nice. So that's it for the requests. Black Swan will keep updating, I'm currently working on the warlock and knight fic and that will hopefully be finished in a couple weeks, baring any school or health complications, and I'll def be opening requests again in May. Thanks a million to those who requested stuff. And just as big a thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented, and/or left kudos on the fics. It's been a blast. See you guys next time :)

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #agatha wellbelove #micah #ruth salisbury #watford cove #fluff #light angst #mysnowbazfic

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loveandwarandmagick · 6 years

Text

Rose-Colored Boy

yeah ,, i used a paramore song for my title ,,,, it’s cool we’re ignoring that

anyway this is my first fic n’ woW it took me almost the whole day to write this and i really hope you all enjoy it ! happy valentine’s day babes <3

summary: baz is in love and hates valentine’s day for this reason. intro the love of his life who ruins his plans to have a pity party with his aunt, with his own disaster on his hands. baz helps, like a lovesick fool

word count: 3,611 (lmao wow that’s a LOT)

Valentine’s Day used to be Baz’s least favorite and most favorite holiday.

Although classes weren’t ever canceled to celebrate the day, (that’d be an absolute nightmare with all the bloody couples at Watford), Baz remembers his father offering him the choice to stay home every year without fail. “Oh Basil,” he’d say, not laughing, but there was amusement in his tone, “It’s not like you’ll do anything important in your lessons anyways.” And they hadn’t, not in all the years that he’d missed. When he returned the next day, all the teachers remarked on how he’d missed out on making cards. As a child, he didn’t think to miss it, only relished in the break from making pink paper cards with the teachers and sealing the envelope with a charm that would unfold the card like origami.

Even if that break was spent being tugged along by his Aunt Fiona through the pink and red swarmed aisles of cheap candy and watching her shove multiple things in a cart at once.

Then after his fifth year - the absolute worst year- when all he could do was figure out that his feelings for Snow were so much more intense than he thought, coming home on Valentine’s was basically an obligation. He wasn’t stupid enough to spend all day in classes with the great love of his life, who was also his worst enemy, and on top of that, his roommate. Watching him parade around with his new girlfriend, and by default due to her status, Baz’s second worst enemy, was not at all worth it. Not even to escape Fiona’s lovelorn quest to buy every single piece of Valentine’s Day paraphernalia in the supermarket.

It wasn’t a sudden thing. Finding out that his feelings were just as intense as they used to be but on the opposite end of a spectrum was a slow thing to come. It was in December, perhaps. When the cold forced him inside earlier than usual and put Snow to sleep as soon as the sunset. He’d spend hours in bed staring at Snow, loathing everything he was. Everything he had; a gorgeous face, a future, a destiny. He’d had more friends than he could count on both hands, and Baz had only two. And besides friends, he’d had people who’d simply enjoyed being around him, who wanted to be in his life. Perhaps it was the magic, but maybe it was just him.

He drove himself insane with the wanting until his thoughts had shifted to wanting Simon. Yes, Baz was undeniably jealous of everything he had, but it was also the boy. His sweet smile and his freckled face and that lovely voice. And though it may have not been a quick realization, as soon as he figured it out, it tormented him. Simon haunted his thoughts and his room, throwing glares and stammering arguments back at Baz, who’d started them. If only to hear him say his name again, to be addressed if only for a moment, by the boy he loved.

Utterly in love, and oh, so hopeless.

So he finds himself now, in their seventh year at Watford, packing his trunk for the ride to Fiona’s apartment, (she’s decided to stay in and wait for the day after to buy clearance candy.) Heaven knows who she’s been heartbroken over for the past seven years, but Baz doesn’t exactly feel entitled to ask. As someone who’s living through the definition of unrequited love though, he figures that he’ll leave early to surprise her. Maybe they’ll rent a rom-com. “Or maybe,” he can hear her say, “We can go out and make fun of the couples. For culture, of course.”

He shakes the grin off his face at the thought, as his thoughts inevitably run back to Snow and his lovely relationship, still going two years later. There were times when Baz thought he had a chance. Times when Snow would stare at him from across the room, every room. When instead of arguing back, he’d only remain silent and turn over on his bed, facing the wall. Baz has only guessed that things had ended with Agatha, but they appeared fine the next day, hands clasped and polite smiles shared over breakfast. He’d know, he watched them constantly. To no avail, he should add.

So much for celebrating, he thought bitterly, biting his cheek as he shoved his last item carelessly into the trunk and closing the lid with a resounding thunk.

Baz looks over at Snow’s empty bed, cursing his feelings and his thoughts and stupidly beautiful boys like Snow himself. He drops his head down onto the case, groaning at the dull pain in his head. Then again, a third thunk. Except, not from Baz slamming his suitcase shut, or from his dramatic, hopeless head drop on it either. This one is louder, coming from right outside their door. Before he can even spell the door open, the sound turns into incessant pounding, and suddenly the door swings open and in barrels Snow.

Because Baz’s life is so gracious as to see him thinking of the bloody person who got him in this situation in the first place and to drop said angel right into his lap. Well, onto the floor in front of him. The love of his life is currently sprawled out on the rug, about two feet from Baz’s feet. He’s breathing hard, looking down at his hands like he’s shocked that they’re even there. Though it wouldn’t surprise Baz if they weren’t. (Snow’s shit at most spellwork.) He still won’t look up at him. Baz doesn’t even think that Snow knows he’s in the room, which wouldn’t make sense as he’s quite literally at his feet.

“Snow.”

Simon jerks his head up, blinking wildly up at Baz. Oh.

He’s got tears in his eyes, which is alarming on its own. But there are little pink buds all over his face that look like - flowers? Whatever they are, he looks entirely unpleased with it. Baz could laugh because it’s truly a ridiculous sight, but seeing Snow cry sends him to his knees to marvel closer at his face. Truly, idiotically in love. Or maybe just idiotic.

“I can’t imagine what sort of curse someone placed on you that would cause you to get such a terrible case of acne, Snow,” Baz sneers.

Snow just makes a choked sort of sound and peers into Baz’s eyes, which makes him suck in a breath because Simon’s right there, and Baz is right here and completely hyperventilating. He focuses his eyes on a flower right between Snow’s blue eyes, noticing that the petals are the same color as the pink blush decorating his freckled face. The flowers are small, resembling tulips that haven’t bloomed yet.

“Baz?” His voice is soft. Baz is pretty sure that he’s swooning. Dev once told him that his eyes gave away everything. “They tilt down at the corners when you’re into something,” he’d laughed, although they had been talking about lavender tea at the time.

Crowley. Baz is sure he’s looking every bit of the mess that he feels, and still hasn’t responded to Simon, who’s staring at him intently. He probably should respond, instead of marveling. “What in the world did you do to your face?” He asks, which is a start. Perhaps a terrible one, because he really has no time to be wasted if he wants to make it before the traffic starts up, and he and Snow don’t exactly make a habit of sharing stories, so he’s not expecting much of anything except a sharp response.

But Simon’s still sitting right in front of Baz, (so close that he can count just how many blooms are on his face - seven in total) and also Baz really doesn’t want to leave; he never wants to leave Simon. And then, surprisingly, he starts rambling. Not the standard routine of stammer, stutter, and pout that usually accompanies his constant arguing, but a full-on stream of words pouring off his tongue.

The blush gets darker every time he takes a breath. “Agatha spelled me. Some weird truth spell that wouldn’t work because it sounded too much like a compulsion spell. Then I had tried it and of course, it worked but she warned me about moderation in my tone because it was a very literal spell. And I told her that I knew that because of course, I did, but then I ended up covered in flowers and they keep popping up if I don’t tell the truth and I don’t even want to tell the truth but I don’t want to be a walking meadow by the time I get rid of it!”

He breathes. Blushes harder. Damn him and his stupid flustered face. Even the flowers are changing colors to match the darkening of his cheeks.

“And of course Agatha just stares at me, saying ‘There you go Simon, even the romance is a disaster with you!’ Which is unbelievably rude in general, but on Valentine’s, it’s even worse and I really wish I’d stop telling you about this because I hate telling you about anything but I can’t find Penny-”

A flower, a tiny pale pink one, pops up on his cheek. Both boys’ eyes go wide. The flower rapidly changes colors to match the other ones.

“Where’s the lie, Snow?”

“There’s no lie, I’m not sure why that happened, erm-”

Another flower sprouts from right above his eyebrow. His eyes squeeze shut.

Baz’s chest flutters hopefully, idiotically. Because part of that statement, the part that matters and could’ve most definitely been false, is about hating Baz. Well, hating to talk to him. He’s not sure whether or not to take advantage of this, considering that Snow’s very distressed, and he just wants to make Snow feel better. Then again, he supposes he could do it while flustering him more, (flustering looks good on him.) Simon’s looking down now, having moved slightly away from Baz in his panic to backtrack on the statement. He’s playing with his hands.

“Snow.”

“Pitch,” he says back. Indignantly, like he has the right to be upset while Baz is fighting every urge in his body screaming at him to hold those nervous fingers in his own hand, to calm him down and help him get rid of this spell.

Traffic is going to be hell when he leaves.

“Simon. Are you alright?” “Not at all.” And then, “You called me Simon?”

Baz frowns at him. “Is there a problem? Would you like me to address you as Snow?”

“Well yeah, it feels natural. I’m used to it,” he murmurs, looking back up at Baz. And then: not one, but two flowers.

He breathes in sharply and mutters something under his breath. Okay, it’s not natural! I’m used to it but still-” A flower. On his chin. Snow looks like he’s about to burst into tears.

“I like it when you call me Simon,” he says, gently.

No flower, but one of the ones on his forehead unfurls just a tiny bit when he says this. Baz is preoccupied with pretending that knowing this as the truth doesn’t make his breathing halt in his chest a bit, so he doesn’t exactly notice it when Simon shifts closer. Or how he can literally feel his eyes softening, his face nearly smiling, his head shifting just a bit closer to Simon’s own. The traitorous, hopeful, body of his has a mind of its own.

“Oh Merlin, please help me,” he says, worrying his lip between his teeth. Baz thinks that he’d like to do so too.

He’s deliberate with his words, careful. This moment feels like glass, it’s too delicate to be shattered by carelessness. This is Snow being vulnerable. This is Baz loving it, loving him. “Simon,” he starts, “one of your flowers is bigger than the other.” Simon sniffs hard, and Baz thinks that maybe that made things worse, so he rushes along with his theory, (which is completely selfish and hopeful.) “No, it’s not bad, I don’t think. What spell did you cast?”

He shakes his head, brow creasing further, “I can’t remember, something “pink colored-” he trails off. Baz shakes his head back, mirroring Simon and laughing softly to himself. He’s never heard anything like that, but flowers have to bloom before they’re picked. And when Simon told the truth, the flower opened up slightly- “Try telling the truth. Just true statements, things of that like.”

For someone who is on the verge of tears, Snow deadpans excellently at his suggestion. “Oh come off it, just try it.” He sighs, shifting away again while Baz screams (in his head) at the distance between them. “I am in this room with Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.”

No flower shifts, nor does a new one appear. Baz glances down at his watch and figures that he’s really going to be stuck in traffic for a while. If he ever even leaves, (although no one could pay him to leave right now. He supposes that Fiona can wait another day for their pity party.)

“Agatha mentioned that it was romantic, but I can’t think of any way that an anti-lie spell could help us in the romance department. We both knew that our relationship needed help anyway,” he mutters, and the flower on his cheek opens up about halfway. Simon’s eyes go wide as he sniffs again, harder this time like he’s crying. Baz tries to ignore the way his chest turns into a vacuum, sucking up all the air in the room at hearing Simon say this, at the tulip bursting open on his cheek. He tries to and fails miserably.

His voice cracks as he starts, excited and bubbly and every bit as nervous as he feels, “Simon, say the truth. Just say what’s on your mind - I think that’s what it is!” He’s nodding rapidly and Snow’s doing it too, and the pair of them look like two deranged bobble-heads but this is working and Baz can’t lie and say that he’s not excited to help too. “Holy crap, Penny’s going to flip when I tell her about this!”

One pink tulip starts to shift, and Simon’s eyes are shining. He’s beaming, so relieved that he’s laughing and falling forward. Closer to Baz. So close that his curls are falling onto Baz’s chest and Baz has to stop himself from touching him. (He could, he wants to.)

“I’ve never been so relieved in my life!”

“Agatha breaking things off with me felt better than being in our relationship did.”

“Valentine’s Day sucks anyway!”

One by one, the petals unfurl, giving way to huge roses. So, not tulips then. Simon’s stopped laughing since then, but his eyes are still shining. All that’s left is the rose on his shoulder; the rest fell off as soon as they bloomed fully. Baz’s heart is beating erratically in his chest, mostly about everything he said about Agatha. The only thing running through his head is “breaking things off with me,” on repeat.

“There’s one left,” he remarks. Quietly, and once he feels like he can speak without squeaking. So that Simon doesn’t remember that they hate each other. So that Baz can entertain his heart, just a bit. “I said everything that’s been on my mind since the morning, I can’t imagine how I could get rid of it.”

A spot where an old flower just fell from starts to grow red and Simon frowns.

Baz raises an eyebrow. “I’d be careful there Snow, you don’t want another case on your hands.”

Simon raises one back. Baz breathes in and out, like someone who didn’t just have a mild heart attack. Baz tries to sound steady as he speaks, “I’m sure you’re meant to say everything on your mind. So out with it.”

“I don’t think I can uh,” Simon starts, every bit the stuttering mess that he is. “It’s just weird? Like, I don’t think that I could say something that wouldn’t change things in like, a really, uh, weird way?” He flushes again, the rose on his shoulder beginning to quiver the slightest bit. Baz nods encouragingly at him, scooting closer so that their knees are touching. “That’s fine Simon, I just need you to say it. Not that it isn’t lovely to watch you suffer at the hands of your own mistakes.”

At this, Simon’s head snaps up and he scowls at Baz, who is fighting back his own soft smile. There’s some feeling in the air, something like tension. When Simon’s hand comes up, Baz thinks that he’s about to get punched, but very slowly. And then Simon tilts his head to the side and lets his fingers wrap around a loose piece of hair framing Baz’s face.

Fuck being punched, this is being hit by a car. Baz’s heart is slamming against his chest and surely he’s making the most idiotic face but none of that matters because Simon Snow is practically playing with his hair and Baz Pitch is dying slowly. He looks down, dropping his hand. “When I got closer to you, I did it on purpose. I felt like I needed to thank you for helping me out.”

“Just now, I grabbed your hair because I’ve never noticed it until just this moment and I really wanted to touch it.”

Baz is currently thanking every single possible entity that he didn’t leave sooner.

“One time I read a book and one of the quotes was about thinking something and finding it very hard to unthink. That quote crossed my mind for whatever reason and then I thought about how much I really didn’t hate you at this moment. And well...”

He shrugs, looking up at Baz who is very, very aware that their lips are too close together, closer than before Simon started talking. Simon’s eyes are shining blue, and his face is all spotted red from where the flowers fell out, and his eyebrows are honestly shaped quite terribly, but Baz has never been more in love and he thinks he might kiss him. It might be worth it, even if Simon pushed him away and cursed him horribly for it. But he did say all that.

“Look, I kinda really want to kiss you? So I’m going to do that if that’s alright with you?”

Simon’s leaning in and Baz is really trying to not hyperventilate and suddenly, the rose on his shoulder puffs out, scattering rose petals all over Baz, who is trying very hard not to cry as Simon collapses into giggles next to him. “Oh the look on your face, Baz! You looked like I’d shot you or something,” he laughs, dragging a hand through his curls as he brushes rose petals from his shirt.

“Yeah well Snow, excuse me for being surprised that you would take your pranks to a romantic level,” he sighs, standing up and stepping over Simon, who’s stopped laughing abruptly and is scrambling up to his feet.

“Hey, no wait, you git!” He’s reaching out to Baz, who is gathering his trunk faster than he’s ever done anything and is really hoping to get out of the door before he starts crying, like the moron he is. The absolute fool that he’s always been, to love Simon and to have hope in the first place. “Baz can you wait?”

“No, I can not,” he hisses back, wanting nothing more than to kiss this ridiculous boy and never see him again. Simon throws his hands up, going over to him and taking him by the shoulders and Baz lets him because he’s weak and hope is a thing very alive in his chest. “Snow,” he says.

“I already told you that I preferred you call me Simon,” he frowns, letting go of Baz but stepping closer all the same.

“Snow-”

“Simon,” he says again, touching his forehead to Baz’s. It only works because he’s on his tip-toes. It works because Baz has stepped closer too. He opens his mouth, fully planning to never say the name “Simon,” again, but said boy cuts him off once again. “Don’t say anything,” he whispers, inching so close that their lips are brushing with every word that he speaks and god, Baz is absolutely hopeless, “Unless it’s my name,” he finishes, finally pressing their lips together.

Simon’s hands are in his hair and he’s smiling, Baz can feel it, so he pulls away gently. “Simon,” he says, smiling. He kisses him again, harder this time until Simon starts giggling.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” he says, feeling every bit like the lovesick fool he is.

“Okay,” Simon says back, biting his lip. Biting back another sunshine grin.

Baz glances down at his trunk, still leaning on the wall. So does Simon.

“Are you going somewhere? I wouldn’t have minded it so much when I thought you hated me, but in light of recent events, I think that maybe you could be my valentine?”

To: Fiona

i’ve got plans this v-day, Fi. i take it you’ll manage without me?

From: Fiona

was just about to cancel on you for my date tonight. have fun without me, alright?

To: Fiona

will do

From: Unknown Number

Would you please let Simon know that the spell is called “Rose-Colored Boy,” and that it’s for confessing since he let his phone die so carelessly and asked me to help? Thx - Penelope Bunce

To: bunce

i’m not going to ask how you got my number, bunce. will lend him my charger

#lwm fic #carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz #snowbaz fic

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spikedfanta · 3 years

Text

organizations and people

suresh kumar

yashas shetty

whofeedsblr

rewilding

5) suresh kumar farm - re-wilding - indian english garden, chakota, etc. //

experience ((the wild garden ))

today, i've been thinking about the internet and all its knowledge systems - there is much that the internet doesn't contain. it does not contain so many stories, the ability to generate respect and mindfulness for one's surroundings, to help one better be in touch with reality -- but at the same time it can connect one to others trying to do the same.

The raintree - I never knew how dividied people were about it.

those blogspot blogs - so many people had/have one. and the articles still pop up now when you look for hyper niche information - particularly during this project, when i look for information on places - flora and fauna - and general nature, food, and life related information on bangalore! a blog that someone started out of their own interest to share a part of their lives - carve out their own space on the internet. and it differs from instagram, or facebook - it really does. while super useful for sharing what youre up to - you dont really get to sit and share long form content about your life. and i wonder if that has reduced ones capacity to then read about these happenings in someone elses life. it's only now, when so much of the information i am looking for (related to experiencing places in and around bangalore - treks, markets, spaces of nature, etc. + food + flora and fauna, lakes, edible weeds + bangalore nostalgia) happens to be on blogs. an unofficial networked document of the city that is coming together with google searches. the way we gather information on the internet, so disparate yet all coming together - which is why a resource bank for the project is important.

we learn on the internet by gathering all this information from all over - sources from youtube videos to blogs to even comments (which can be very useful!) to forums and niche old websites.. and they become a psychogeography of place on the internet. we then synthesize it together to create our own understanding which we can then share, i think. and it all has such a personality...

i think this research combined with actively going out of my way to engage with people in the real world is really building a sort of image in my head. i think what i am trying to do is express that image in a project, and using all these tools from people abroad etc etc to express it in a very bioregional local way - a sort of 'back to the land' for the internet. it's astounding to see the amount of videos for things like making henna or flower garlanding or gardening -- anything you want to learn, and there is a video. it wasnt always this way wasnt it? i remember that there were so many western videos you had to shuffle through. at any rate, one part of the project is documenting my creations and what im learning in a bioregional way -- by creating a sort of alter ego and making an internet personality/blogger type.

what kind of personality can i give my alter ego? she'll be allowed to say and do a lot more than i can, i think. but she still lives in my body and experiences what i experience. she is a curious scientist of the world - she is the child forever in me. she picks up things and runs with them. she is playful and mindful.

speaking of mindful, i am back in bellandur and i havent been doing much sense mapping. i havent done much sense mapping at all. im not sure what im scared of... well, im going to hear the birds and smell the dust and feel the dust and hear the construction and taste the rose apple see the kind of boxy room i live in, in an apartment .. where all the noises echo louder and loom off further into the distance.. as well as make their way here. what is the difference from yelahanka, with the trees? covering me with their canopies? what about suresh's farm - further from the hubbubububub.

symbols.. hmm.. the home garden tulsi. a tincture or tonic water. a weed popping out of a pavement. two birds playing. construction sounds. far off construction red light. dust. colours... faded blue, grey, white, green, red. crushing. the act of it. the sound. the sound of simmering. the sound of ticking and an oven. chopping. plucking. leaves rustling. crushing in your fingers and smelling.

scent of tulsi and basil as i rub it and it makes me less anxious and less nauseous and very calm and minty. henna and its bittery herbal smell. the tonic waters.. sweet basil, a bit anise like. and lemon, no citrus just sweet lime leaf. malabar spinach and a stain like blood. royal purple blood. the sweet pannir of a rose apple,, a delicate. treat. what if i added rose petal? rose water? a gingery affair, spicy.. floating suspended in water. a bug. i like how they call it that. how long till it comes alive? lemon and fenugreek and black tea in henna - the goopy mixture, ready to go on my hair. soapy - the leaves. clay like - the powder. visually.. the leaves go sop and lose their green on so much boiling. on pounding. the malabar spinach goes POP. there are greens and a pumpkin. visually, i feel satisfied by the rainbow today. purple malabar. indigo.. uh.. i suppose the malabar satisfiesx that. green.. the tulsi, the aloe, thee lemongrass, the basil, the ajwain, the betel leaf.. the spinach greens.. the henna. wow. a lot of green. taste.. well all of it tasted nice. chewing a tulsi and betel leaf. yum. yellow.. lemon and panir. orange hmm. papaya? carrot. red.. hibiscus. a curry leaf.

well, anyway. i got a lot out of my head today. i shall have to spend some time organziing and planning tomorrow. i am a in a little bit of a 'do mode' flow. tomorrow morning, i will wake up by 7.. meditate. hear birds. sense check in. go for a walk to soul kere lake. sense map/check. come back. drink herbal tea. plan - covid test, things to buy and do today, places nearby to go (if any) - make a trip outside (wrap up by 12 hopefully)

lab work today -- hopefully 12-4 and later at night, with time for research (new media, blogs, projects related to tools, etc.) and some checkin in - sense journaling, symbolism, relfection, artistic expression. evening. we henna.

documentation of research for these recipes! going through comments, that only comment from soemwhere who has the same question as yours.. bringing that back to my regional level and answering it here.

at an experience leve.. suresh kumar. i am astounded by someone like him, and i wonder if i can ever be someone like that. i feel like such a privileged city girl around him, in awe of everything, dumb and stupid. but this is not true right? idk. he is a very cool man and i love how friendly he is which is required to work at such a community level. how can i imbibe that level of community gathering and effort? it is by dedication to your work but also a level of genuine respect for everyone around you. i wager that i dont have that respect? for myself? maybe? i dont know. no, and for others either. because there is competition - what is it he said. i gained my confidence through my work. there is no other way. holy shit. there is no other way. i must gain my confidence through my work. just do a lot of it. and be as open and genuine as i can to others. work on EneErgIes. no? somewhere, i know there is something that drives me to do things. and even if it might be 'shit'.. i think i have a vision, perhaps.

there are things to plan.. tomorrow, i will spend an hour just 'starting'. i suppose. blog posts be damned. i suppose as the idea comes, make a tumblr draft and let it sit with a quick note and memory. tomorrow is also a making day. so is saturday. saturday evening i plan the next week, and finish what i 'started'. and sunday i make teasers with whatever content i have right now. no time to build new content. just enough for swati and co to get a gist of what im about. and dont share everything. keep a few teases.

think i really want to do a clay texture map tomorrow. and also work on the animation. and childhood. and topography. Oh! spring equinox celebration meal as well. and chill climate weather bengal oo roo. and nostalgia mapping. def some mapping. animist... POV.. herbalism and energy and nature of plants. the ability to stain. to scent. to taste. my experience of the plant.. and what is the plant experience of me? to crush and chew and nibble. but my reality isnt a plants reality. i dont know if it 'hurts'. it exists differently. it exists. i exist.

i want some jasmine flowers definitely to make some jasmine hydrosol..

need to read some diance ackerman, and some animism / that camden art festival thing before i sleep. some

todays kitchen mapped out

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wtfzodiacsigns · 7 years

Text

WHY I LOVE YOU

Venus in Aries: I heard your laughter before I saw you. And then I couldn’t take my eyes off you. And after everyone had gone home we were still running around, or you were running I was just trying to keep up. You work hard, play hard and love even harder, but you like to try on a couple of sizes before you find the right fit. It’s the way you make me laugh at the most ludicrous things, the way you know exactly what you want and are not afraid to go and get it. You make me feel like anything is possible. Our love was like a tickle war turned makeout session, and I still remember the heat when our skin touched. There will never be anyone like you.

Venus in Taurus: Being with you is like coming home. Like a perfect dream. Like lavender candles and cuddling up to a marathon of our favourite show. You kissing me between every episode. You don’t like playing games and you don’t like being rushed when falling in love. You take your sweet time, worshipping my body and my mind so my heart can’t help but follow. I remember those lazy Sundays, strolling through the furniture store, your hand in mine and we would pretend to decorate our future house. But all we came out with were more lavender candles and a burning lust for each other. You turn the mundane into something truly magical.

Venus in Gemini: You drive me crazy, I never know where we stand. We spend the most incredible nights together and then I don’t hear from you in forever. Maybe that’s your style, you wanna look me in the eyes and not read my words on your phone. We sit for hours and people watch, making up backstories for them. When I’m with you I have no sense of time, all I can think about is your mischievous smile and the way you play with my hair. Your love is all-consuming, like nothing in the world matters to you more. With you my sense of reason is completely clouded, I’m yours for the night and every other night. If you’ll have me.

Venus in Cancer: My hero, my sensitive babe. Your heart on your sleeve, that look in your eyes and I was yours forever. When you kissed me I could see our lives flashing before my eyes. Sitting on opposite sides of the sofa. Your nose in a book but your hand on me, like you needed to be connected to me or else you’d die. Every time you catch me staring at you I can’t help the grin on my face. You are fragile and strong, creating this protective space around us where we can just be together. I love how you’re not afraid of your feelings, and how you already named our kids even though we need to discuss it lol. You make it feel so real, like you are the missing piece of the puzzle.

Venus in Leo: I remember the first time I met you, it all happened so fast. At a party, my friend introducing you and before I knew it your arms were around me. I remember melting into your hug, and the electricity in the air when we finally let go. Everyone else thought it was weird but we both knew, there was no turning back. Being with you feels like running through a field of flowers, faster and faster. Your laughter and your moans echo in my head. My legs feel like giving out but your hand refuses to let go of mine. It’s that smile after you say something clever, and they way you make me feel like it’s just me and you versus the world. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this loved.

Venus in Virgo: You make me feel whole. Driving down the freeway blasting our songs, I can’t sing but you don’t care. Your hand on the stick shift and for some reason I got all hot inside. It’s the way you wrap your arms around me at the checkout line, like I’m yours and you don’t care who knows. You’re thoughtful and observant, you make me feel like I matter to you. And it’s not an act, you are actually that kind. I’m trying so hard to describe you, but all I can think about is that night when my family fell apart. You drew a bath with bubbles and you held me until the water went cold. Then we ate raspberries (my favourite) and watched Modern Family. And then you loved me until I didn’t feel like I was falling apart anymore. I think that describes you more than words ever could. You’re the one I see sitting next to me on our porch doing a crossword puzzle, in our old bodies. But it doesn’t scare me because your spirit is forever young.

Venus in Libra: Being in love with you is so easy. Our first date was to the movies. You gave me a red poppy and held my hand the entire time, gently playing with my fingers. My heart was about to beat out of my chest but somehow I was calm, because you were. I love the way you talk so easy, with that breezy confidence. Like you’d never tell me a lie. The way you were charming and kind to everyone from the bus driver to the server at the pizza shop. After talking to each other all night in the park, it was the only place that was still open. My mum still asks about you. I think she loved you more than I did, and that’s saying something.

Venus in Scorpio: God, the way you tear me apart and then put me back together. Over and over again. You of all people know that life isn’t always chocolates and roses. You’re not afraid of the ugliness of human nature, instead you try to find the silver lining, the beauty in the madness. You demand that I’m honest with you, and in turn you trust me with your own secrets. It created a bond beyond love, or maybe it was love. It just felt different, like it was based in reality and not a love story. You’ve seen me at my worst and still think I’m beautiful, because you see people’s souls. Nobody can hide their true nature from you for you are an expert of reading between the lines. Your animalistic passion penetrates deep, and everything becomes a haze of lust and obsession. Because if you’re not obsessed it’s just not worth it. I would trust you with my life, because you would sacrifice your own for the one you love.

Venus in Sagittarius: We had just gotten comfortable on the top of the mountain we climbed when you hit me with “Do you think out of seven billion that some people have the same personality?” And you packed my favourite sandwich, tomato, mozzarella and basil. A moment of breathless kisses and triumph. Your strength made me feel strong too, and your devotion made my heart swell. You never stand still but it doesn’t matter, because you take me with you and always make sure I’m alright. You make me feel included, showing me off and introducing me to all your friends. I’ve never felt more proud than when I’m standing next to you. When you told me how much you loved me I knew it was true.

Venus in Capricorn: The true romantic. What drew me in was that calm stare, you looked like trouble I swear I was gonna faint on the spot. You could keep up with me, and when you took my hand and said “Trust me?” I somehow believed you. But what made me fall for you was how you kept all your promises. Your presence is honest and true, the way you make me feel like I would never be alone, like I would always have a friend. I love falling asleep in your arms to your heartbeat. You’re gentle with me, I can feel your love in every touch. Your love made me believe I could do anything, because I knew you would stick by my side. If I asked you to.

Venus in Aquarius: Keep it cool, that’s how you roll. Almost untouchable, but you let me touch you. It was like the seasons changed in seconds. You finished that last drop of champagne and said “Let’s get wet”, then we jumped in the pool. And then you kissed me. It felt like breathing underwater, I don’t even think you live in the same world as the rest of us. I texted you at 2 a.m. and you didn’t hesitate. Trapped between your body and the wall, your lips on my neck and I was already in heaven. I never thought you loved me back, until you showed up on my doorstep, whiskey on your breath and tears in your eyes. After that I never doubted you, because I knew then that your love was more than words.

Venus in Pisces: With you it’s all about the moment, and moments with you are plush and whimsical. Like sitting on a cloud. You are still the only person to ever write me a poem. And when you asked me if I liked it, how you let me see your vulnerable side even though the look in your eyes was sheer terror, you were brave. I was at loss for words so I just kissed you deeply. You see the beauty in the little things, like asking me about what I dreamt last night or giving me cupid earrings so they could whisper sweet nothings in my ear when you’re not around. Your love is poetic, you actually think of me and what makes me happy. Whenever you see something that reminds you of me you always let me know. I can’t help but think how lucky I am to be so cherished.

source: littlestardoll

#astrologyy #astrology #fun facts #astrology fun facts #facts #horoscope #zodiac signs #zodiac

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feathers-and-fisticuffs · 5 years

Text

Not My Style...

[Chapter List HERE]

Basil tensed as the door opened, he hadn’t been expecting his new guardian to burst in so quickly, and truth be told, he was terrified to officially meet him. Partly because he was afraid that there had been a mistake, that Mr. Rose had changed his mind, and partly because... he now looked very different than the last time they had spoken.

“Oh. You’re looking well.” The gentleman in the suit smiled at him, though Basil could see the confusion on his face. “That’s a lovely haircut.”

“Y-you’re not mad..?” His voice trembled, he could hear Oleana’s voice echoing in his head, telling him that Rose would never love him if he went through with it, that ‘he adopted you for a reason, and you’re not a little boy so quit trying to act like one’.

“Mad? Of course not, dear.” His voice was gentle, soothing, and as he knelt down the confusion cleared from his face. “Now then, there’s the matter of your name.” His smile never faltered. “What would you like me to call you?”

Basil’s cheeks flushed red. He hadn’t expected this sort of response. “Basil, sir...” He looked down at his feet, still nervous.

“Basil, what a fine name. Welcome home, son.” He wiped the tears that started to fall, and pulled the boy into a hug.

He couldn’t keep himself from crying. He was home...

Kabu hadn’t heard anything from Basil for a few hours, and though he wanted to give Basil his space, he was worried that something had happened to him. He finished his training and let his Pokemon wander, kissing his Growlithe’s nose. “There’s a good boy... good job today.”

The Growlithe licked his cheek and bounded away to play.

He could hear a familiar tune coming from Basil’s bedroom, and his door was cracked open slightly. Kabu assumed this was an invitation to pop in and say hi, so he stuck his head in. “Hey, kid. You about ready for dinner?”

Basil was sitting at his desk by the radio, looking in a mirror, gasping and almost falling over when Kabu started to talk with a scream. “NO!” He scrambled away, putting as much distance between them as he could, feeling terror rising in his heart.

“Oh! Basil I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you I-- are you wearing makeup?”

Basil started to cry, babbling out apologies and begging Kabu not to hurt him. His hands went to his face, trying to rub off the makeup and smearing it. He screamed again when Kabu’s hands wrapped around his wrists and pulled them away gently.

“Basil, Basil shhh... It’s okay, it’s alright I’m not going to hurt you...” He soothed. “Don’t rub at your face, that’s terrible for your skin, it’s okay...” He kept calming him until he was sure he could let go of him, then handed him his cane and led him down to Kabu’s bedroom. He sat Basil down on his bed and dug through his bathroom doors till he found some makeup remover wipes. “These won’t irritate your skin.” He smiled and started working to wipe away the smeared eyeliner.

Basil sniffled. “You’re not mad..?”

“No, honey, why would I be mad?” Kabu assured him.

“B-because I’m a boy...”

Kabu chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong with that, dear. I wear makeup sometimes too, when I go on TV.”

“Really?” Basil pulled away from the wipe, looking for any sign he was lying.

“Well of course, gotta look nice and young and pretty for the young ladies.” He winked and that made Basil giggle a bit.

“You’re weird, Kabu...”

Kabu smiled, thankful that Basil was no longer afraid, and worked on getting the rest of the makeup wiped off. “I’m sorry I scared you. I should have knocked. Do you want me to help you put your makeup back on?” Basil shook his head. “Is there any way I can make this up to you?”

He could see Basil thinking, considering this question. “Let me do your makeup?”

“Oh?” He grinned at that. “Would that make you happy?”

Basil nodded. “I want to do your makeup.”

“Hey, was that Piers you were listening to up there? I think he has a concert tomorrow. Would you like to go? We can make a day of it.”

Basil gasped. “What? Really? You’d let me go see Piers?!”

Looking at him like that, Kabu would have let him do anything. “Of course we can go. Whatever you’d like.” He crawled up into bed and pulled Basil up beside him, leaning back on the headboard. “Whatever you want to do.”

Basil yawned and leaned against him. “Kabu..?” He hesitated, he was still nervous to say something to make him mad. He didn’t want to lose another guardian. “Why does Bede hate you so much? He said you were mean and that you hurt him...”

Kabu felt a pang of guilt. He had forgotten. “Well... you see... I made a mistake. Bede... did too. He broke into my gym and tried to steal my gym badge because he was worried about fighting me.” He gulped. “I caught him, and lost my temper. And I may have... well... hurt him. A little bit.”

“Bede said you called him a brat and spanked him.”

He cringed. “Yes. That... that is what happened. I lost my temper with him and I shouldn’t have done that.”

Basil sat quietly for a while, and Kabu was afraid he was afraid again.

“Are you gonna do that to me if I do something wrong?”

“No. No, I shouldn’t have done that to him either. And I didn’t know about... what you two were going through.”

Basil let out a small whine. “He told you about Oleana..?”

“He told me what she did to him. I’m sure she hurt you too.” He soothed.

Basil nodded. “My leg... she would hurt my leg if I did something wrong... and... she’d hurt us if we tried to tell Rose... and he didn’t believe us anyway...”

“I believe you. And I believe Bede, too. We’ve put aside our differences, now that we’re co-workers.” He promised. “I’ll never hurt you. I’ll never hurt him again. I swear.”

Basil closed his eyes and laid his head against Kabu’s chest. “Okay...” He practiced the breathing exercises that Kabu had taught him, and within minutes he had dozed off completely.

Kabu laid him down in his bed, tucking him in softly. His hands shook, he couldn’t get the look Basil gave him out of his mind, so fearful, so hopeless... He’d do anything to never see him look like that again. He closed the door and let him sleep, moving to the couch. No point in moving the boy, he looked so comfortable.

************

Kabu let Basil sleep in the next day, and made pancakes for breakfast.

“Kabu...? Is something wrong? It’s so late...”

He smiled at Basil, waving with the spatula. “Good morning! Pancakes?”

Basil sat down at the table, and eyed them hungrily. “These aren’t healthy...”

Kabu chuckled. “I know. It’s okay to take a self-care day every once and a while!” He laid a plate down in front of Basil and had one for himself. Basil scarfed down the pancakes hungrily. “These are so good!” He gave a few pieces to his Scorbunny too, which made Kabu laugh.

“Are you boys excited for the concert today? I’ve heard it’s gonna be killer...”

Basil nodded happily. “Piers is so cool! He’s like... my hero! His music is amazing and his Pokemon are so cool! He’s amazing!”

Kabu happily let Basil control the day, picking all the things they did and even letting him do his makeup before the show. Basil let him look, only after he was done, and laughed out loud at himself. “I look ridiculous!”

Basil blushed. “You don’t like it..?”

“It’s not my style, but it looks lovely.” He promised. Basil had given him thick black eyeliner and pale white makeup, and dark black lipstick, and quickly did the same for himself.

Once he was ready, the two made their way to Spikemuth for the concert. Basil had never been and took in the city with wide eyes. “Oh wow...”

The concert was just as intense and amazing as Basil had hoped it would be. He watched Piers on stage, starstruck by how confident he was. When the concert was over, he wished it could go on forever.

“Well? What did you think?” Kabu smiled down at him.

“It was... amazing...” He smiled back, leaning on his cane. “Piers is so cool..!”

“You wanna meet him?”

“What?!”

“Come on!” Kabu pulled his sleeve gently. “Let’s go backstage!”

“You don’t know him! We can’t go backstage!”

“Says who? Come on!” He smirked.

“Oh my God Kabu no! You’re gonna embarrass me in front of Piers don’t!” He was pulling away from Kabu but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. The two mean looking doormen took one look at Kabu and moved aside when they got there.

“See?”

“That doesn’t mean anything! You don’t know Piers!”

Kabu just laughed and pulled him backstage.

Piers was leaning against the back wall, chatting with his foul-mouthed band members with a sneer, but when he looked up and saw Kabu his whole demeanor changed. He stood up straight and gestured for his band-mates to scram before approaching with a genuine smile. He bowed respectfully.

“Master Kabu...”

Kabu couldn’t hide his grin, pulling him into a hug. “Piers... you did so great up there... as always.”

“I didnt’ know you were coming or I would have played something more mellow for you!”

Basil looked from one man to the other, jaw dropping. “What the fuck..?”

Kabu spun around then. “Language, young man!”

Piers laughed out loud, clinging to Kabu’s arm to keep himself upright. “And who’s this funny little dude?”

Kabu introduced them, and Piers could tell he was a fan. He shook Basil’s hand and signed an album for him before sitting down with them to talk.

Basil watched with starry eyes as Kabu and Piers talked, reminiscing about the good ol’ days. Piers told him about how Kabu had taken him in when he was younger, and had helped him deal with his ‘young teen angst’ with music.

“Kabu got you into music? I don’t believe it.” Basil snorted.

“Who do you think taught me to play guitar?”

“Bullshit.”

“Language!” Kabu hissed and swatted gently at his arm, teasing more than anything.

“Come on Kabu, why don’t you play something for him!” Piers handed him a guitar.

“What? No, I haven’t touched one in years.”

“Please?” Basil asked sweetly.

Kabu sighed and took the guitar, and just like riding a bike, it all came back to him. He started to play, and once he got into it, he started to sing an old song. His voice was soft and a little gruff, but by no means bad. Piers grabbed his base and quickly joined in with a harmony, and Basil was moved by the sound. They sounded amazing together...

************

Kabu and Basil called it a night, and Kabu walked him up to his room, knowing his leg was starting to get sore from all the moving around. He tucked him in and kissed his forehead.

“Kabu? Will you sing to me?” He asked shyly. “You sing really nice...”

He blushed a bit at the compliment and sat on the edge of the bed. “Alright. Get comfy.” He smiled as Basil snuggled down into the blankets and reached for Kabu’s hand to hold.

Kabu held his hand and pet his hair while he sang a lullaby, and once Basil was asleep, he pulled the door closed softly and drug his own sorry tired butt to bed. His rotom phone was flashing on the nightstand, a message deemed important, but not important enough to look at tonight. It would be there in the morning.

#kabu #gym leader kabu #my precious baby basil #piers #sword and shield #dad kabu #implied child abuse #oleana #rose #basil is trans!#and don't you forget it!#hes a good boy!#and I love him #lmk if i need to tag anything else

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mellicose · 7 years

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That Woman Over There - Chapter 8

A You Me and Him Fix-it Fic

Rating: teen, for some strong language

Word count: 2300

Warnings: none

Summary: ~ Set after the birth of Monty, Olivia’s baby ~ A dear friend of Olivia comes to visit for a week, and she disturbs the fragile peace between her, Alex, and John.

“Happy birthday, darling!” yet another stranger yelled just as soon as Alex and Liv opened the door. They insisted that Connie stay near, so they could introduce her as a world-renowned flower artist.

She worked in just about every continent, but she was certainly not world-renowned. Known, perhaps, but not lauded.

Well, not much.

Both Alex and Olivia wore the flower crowns she made them for the party. Olivia’s was top-heavy with cabbage roses in shades of pink and red, while Alex’s was made with beautiful rich magenta anemones and studded with violets and microdaisies.

“Are those real?” Olivia’s friend touched the flowers on her head delicately.

“Very! She just threw them together this morning,” Liv said, squeezing Connie’s hand. “She’s quite talented.”

“Quite so,” the lady said, and she ogled Connie’s breasts. “Do you specialize in birthday parties?”

She groaned internally. Olivia’s smile flickered.

“Not at all. It’s usually museums and art shows and royal garden parties,” she said.

“Isn’t that cute,” she said. She scrutinized her further. She had short brown hair threaded with silver, and her pale blue eyes were large and ravaging. Her nostrils flared ever so slightly at Connie’s jean miniskirt and her high heeled booties.

“I’m going to check on the food,” Connie said, and walked away quickly. She wasn’t a shy woman, but she did not like that woman’s gaze. Sometimes Olivia was too nice. She walked blindly to the back door and bumped into John.

“Whoa, who are you running from?” he said, giving her a dazzling grin. She gasped.

“My God, where did it go?” she said, patting at his face. He turned his head to give her a better look. The beard was gone. She caressed his prickly cheeks. All that was left was maybe a day’s growth.

She pulled him outside, where the other guests milled around the appetizers tables and danced.

“Can you believe that falsetto?” he said, referring to the music. Justin Timberlake sang about drinking and heartbreak. “Is he even old enough to have a drink?

The woman appeared at the back door with Olivia in tow. She searched the crowd for Connie.

“Come on,” she said, and started to dance against him.

“I suppose all is forgiven,” he said. She gave him a serious look. “Okay. I suppose wrong. Why the dirty dancing?”

She turned around and ground up against his thighs. “It’s her,” she whispered, and pointed her chin at the woman in khaki pants and a green fleece vest. He burst out laughing.

“She get a bit cheeky with you?” he said, and put his arm around her waist and followed her lead. It wasn’t precisely what he imagined, but after last night, he would take what he could get. She smelled like the flowers she had pored over all morning at Liv’s kitchen table. “She’s harmless.”

“To you. You’ve got a penis,” she said, and turned to grind against his hip. “She makes my skin crawl.”

Her thigh muscles warmed his leg. He tried to focus on anything but how good she felt.

“Wow, this feels really convincing,” he said. “I am thoroughly convinced.”

The woman walked resolutely to them.

“Oh my God,” Connie whispered into his chest.

“Hello, John,” she said, squinting up at him. “How’s the misogyny business?”

As ever, he smiled. “Booming! I was meaning to say something about that. I-”

She cut him off. “You ran off before I had a chance to properly introduce myself,” she said to Connie.

She pointed up at him, and held him closer. “He just swept me away before I could get back,” she said. “Still in the first flush and all,” she said.

She gave Olivia a perplexed look. Olivia looked at them, then back at her friend.

“Artists,” she said, giggling. She shrugged.

John nuzzled Connie’s temple. “Got here too late, I’m afraid,” he said. “Alpha wins again.”

“Ugh,” she said, but she finally walked away to scrutinize the food.

What’s going on? Olivia mouthed, but Alex winked and pulled her away.

“Thank you,” Connie sighed. “I’m terrible at telling people to fuck off.” He still had his arm around her, and he let her go.

“Don’t worry yourself. I’m good at doing the pretend boyfriend thing.” They walked to the low brick wall at the edge of the garden and sat down.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be. We’re even now.”

“For what?”

“For last night. You know, with the drunk ladies and the bat and the yelling? You played the angry girlfriend brilliantly,” he said, smiling. His eyes crinkled.

“Right. I guess I tried too well to forget,” she said.

He bit his lip. “You smell spectacular. You got any leftover flowers?”

She nodded.

“Make me a crown. Please,” he said, showing her his teeth.

“You sure? What if your internet buddies see you decked out in dahlias and sweet peas?”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what they think,” he said. “I want to look pretty.”

“Let’s do it, then,” she said.

“Yay!” He jumped up and cheered.

“You are such a nerd,” she said, shaking her head.

“Yep,” he said, and followed her inside.

🌹🌹🌹

He sorted through the flowers, caressing the velvety gerbera daisy petals and long calla lily stalks.

“Pick whatever you like,” she said. She stood close to him, in front of the kitchen window.

“I want you to pick them out. Define me with flora,” he said, holding a small bouquet of ranunculi to his chest. “There’s no stink cabbage here, is there?”

She ran her index finger along his jawline. “You know John, you didn’t have to shave your beard.”

He sat on the counter. “After what you said? How could I keep it?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” she said sheepishly. “I was angry.”

“Are you kidding me? ‘70’s porn pussy’? It’s absolutely brilliant, and very hard to forget,” he said, rubbing his nearly bare chin thoughtfully. “What do you know about 70’s porn?”

She started to snip at the flower stems and separate the bunches of purple statice.

“Just whatever I was able to get my hands on from my mother’s collection,” she said, and plucked a dwarf sunflower from a vase on the windowsill.

“That’s not weird,” he said, eyebrows raised high.

“And generations of boys raiding their father’s collection isn’t just as weird?” she said.

“Fair enough,” he said. “So …” he hesitated.

“Go on. You’re dying to ask.” She bit off a length of flower tape and started to attach the sunflower to the wire hoop.

“Your mum. She had porn?” he said. “My mum would give my da grief for letting me watch Doctor Who. She thought the companion’s skirts were too short.”

She wove jasmine stalks to the wire and secured it, then started to tape an ombre purple peony on either side of the sunflower.

“It wasn’t porn per se,” she said. “It was more … art. Really naked sexy art.”

“So … porn,” he said.

“No. Art,” she said. “Who says that sex can’t be a thing of beauty?” she said.

“Right,” he said, smiling. “Art.”

“Before she married my father, my mother was an art groupie, so she has a pretty big collection,” she said.

“What’s an art groupie?” he said.

“She would spend time at all of the art haunts in Montmartre, in Paris. All her friends were painters and sculptors and writers… she herself tried to write, but sadly, she was never very good at it in French, and even worse in Spanish and English.” She fluffed the peony petals, and started attaching small pale yellow ranunculi, interspersed with jasmine. “She had a passionate affair with a nameless artist right before she met my father-”

“How did your parents meet?” he interrupted.

“My dad went to France with a close friend who would soon be diplomat there,” she said, and looked out the window.“Is that thyme on your back porch?”

“Yeah, it is. I love the way it smells on summer evenings,” he said.

“How romantic. Could you get me some sprigs? Especially the ones with the tiny flowers.”

He jumped off the counter and darted across the yard. Her eyes followed him, and she bit her lip. He did have a nice ass. He ran back in, threw two handfuls of the herb on the counter, and sat by the sink.

“So, where were we?” he said.

“Noticing that you also have a bay tree by the shed,” she said, giving him an exaggerated grin.

He nodded. “Right. I’ll be back in a flash,” he said, ran to the door, then doubled back. “Just to let you know, I also have rosemary, basil, sage, lavender, lemon balm, peppermint, and chamomile growing against the house where you can’t see it.”

“Ooh, chamomile! Make sure to pluck it as close the the earth as possible,” she said.

He saluted, then ran outside. In less than a minute, he handed her the requested greenery.

“Okay. We were at … art groupie,” he said, panting lightly on the counter.

“This chamomile is fabulous,” she said, breathing in their herbaceous perfume.

“I keep Olivia and Alex in tea,” he said, smiling. “Ever had an herbal bath?

“Nope. I’ve only had the quick, cold, and bubble varieties,” she said, started to stud the crown with the delicate chamomile flowers. “My father would make me rub myself with eucalyptus-infused rubbing alcohol when I was feverish, but that’s as far as that goes.”

“That sounds lovely,” he said. “I’ll have to try it.”

“It’s interesting. The alcohol evaporates quickly which cools the body, but the smell is headache-inducing.”

“Eucalyptus opens up the lungs, so it’s great for chest colds,” he said.

She gave him a look.

“What? I was sick a lot as a kid. I think it was more psychosomatic than not, but still. So … Montmartre?” he said.

She worked the bay into the sides of the crown. “She had a disastrous affair with a nameless artist that left her very vulnerable-”

“Is he actually nameless, or do you not want to say the name?” he interrupted again. She slapped his arm lightly.

“She doesn’t want to say his name, so I don’t know it. All I know is his work, and his mark on the bottom right corner of his sketches and paintings.”

“That’s exciting. He could be famous. Ever tried to compare the mark to something you’ve seen in an art exhibition? That’s what I would do.”

She nodded. “No luck, though.”

“But what does the affair have to do with art porn, and your father?” he said.

“I had a linear story, but you’ve interrupted me so many times that I don’t even know what I’m saying,” she said, and held up the completed crown. “Tada!”

“It’s brilliant, literally,” he said, caressing the bright yellow sunflower petals before putting it on his head. “Do I look gorgeous?” he said, batting his eyes.

“Like part of the family,” she said. The comment made him glow.

“But now you need one,” he said.

She shook her head. “Nah. I’m not really the flower crown type. It’s like getting high on your own supply.”

“Nonsense!” he picked up a giant, pale peach cabbage rose and jumped off the counter. “Here, let me…” he put his hands in her hair.

She slapped at him. “What are you doing?”

He put his hands up. “Sorry about that. I just want to do a quick dutch braid, so I can thread the flowers through it. May I?”

“Oh,” she said. “I guess it’s okay.” She stood still as he brushed her hair with his long fingers, and began to braid. It was nice to have someone besides a hairdresser doing her hair. “How did you learn to do it? I can’t do a french braid to save my life.”

“My sister. She’s terrible at them as well. When we were kids, I made fun of her for having clumsy fingers, and she bet me I wouldn’t be able to do it either. She had to do my chores for a week,” he giggled. “All done.” He stepped back to admire his handiwork. Now, her hair fell over her left shoulder in a messy braid that grazed her breast. “You look … like a hipster goddess,” he said.

“Fuck off,” she said, rolling her eyes and walking away.

“I was joking,” he said, gently pulling her back by the sink. “No hip. But let me finish my thing.”

“Fine. But be careful with the roses. They’ve got thorns.”

“Duh,” he said amiably. He scraped off the thorns with his thumbnail and threaded the stems through the braid starting at the crown of her head. She looked at him as he worked. He bit the tip of his tongue with concentration. The afternoon sun shone in from the kitchen window and gilded the brown of his eyes, and the spattering of freckles on his smooth skin was breathtakingly alluring. Her fingers twitched to touch his forehead, and trace the smile lines at the corners of his eyes. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

“What’s with the fists?” he said, gently squeezing her wrists. She looked down. She was white-knuckled with longing.

“Oh. This is nothing. It happens sometimes. Anxiety,” she said, waving away his touch. There were red crescents on her palms where her mercifully short nails bit into her skin.

“I’m done!” he said. “Tell me what you think.” He pointed to the small mirror hung by the back door. When she looked at herself, she hiccuped with laughter.

“Oh my God,” she said. The roses drooped in the braid, and her head was hoary with sprays of baby’s breath. “It’s … a look.” His smile faded, and it made her heart ache. “...that I shall wear with pride.”

He actually bounced with glee.“So I did well?”

“Beautiful,” she said.

“Good enough to go work for you?” he said.

The face she made bent him over with laughter.

Next Chapter

#you me and him #ymah #john helm #David Tennant #fan fiction #John x Connie #getting acquainted #That Woman Over There

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