#the spring breeze in may and the color of the sky. it matched the sky in the land of waves arc and i was sooo so happy

[armageticwords]

tried listening to my naruto 2020 playlist 10 dead 4373947 injured

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader epilogue - a slow burn series of blurbs

Heaven Knows You Better ~ epilogue

summary: A glimpse into the future.

wc: 1.7k

warnings: none, just pure fluff 🧡 a slight mention of drinking a margarita.

authors note: I know you’re tired of hearing me say it, but thank you 🧡 writing this story and sharing it with you will always hold a special place in my heart.

🌆 <- chapter ten

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

Three summers later - Beginning of May

The sun hangs bright in the deep blue sky, the air a little crisp from the last bit of the chill still leftover from spring. The heat of summer is just barely on the cusp of breaking through, you can feel it in the way the city starts to come alive again. The red ‘TEAM ALS’ banner blows in the wind as your shoes and Bandit’s paws cross the white finish line. The clapping of strangers on the side lines fills your ears, tugging a smile onto your slightly chapped lips, before you turn around to look at your fiancé. 

Steve can’t help his grin back, the whites of his teeth showing when your smile stretches wider at the sight of him. The bottoms of his black running shorts flap in the breeze, revealing more skin at the tops of his thighs that still lights a match deep inside your gut. You don’t think you’ll ever be immune to him. The white socks on his feet are pulled up to his shins, the color of his On Clouds matching the banner above you. The polyester of his dark gray Nike running sweater fits tight across his chest, the zipper on its high neck being tugged by a set of golden blond puppy paws.

“I told you Molly wasn’t gonna make it all the way,” he huffs, a laugh threatening to bubble past his lips when the rambunctious labrador starts licking his stubble covered cheek, pushing up the bill of his black Nike baseball cap. 

God, you’ll never not want to kiss him.

“She made it more than half way, give her some credit Steve.” You roll your eyes and he’s proud to say that’s the third one he’s earned today. The first being in your barely unpacked kitchen when he snuck up from behind to blow a raspberry on your neck while making coffee in the morning.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You weren’t the one who had to carry the extra ten pounds the last two miles, were you?” He reminds you with a smirk, setting the wiggling puppy down now that she’s regained most of her strength back.

Bandit whines for Steve’s affections, pawing at him when he’s eye level, getting the scratch behind both ears he wanted. The German shepherd wasn’t the only one wanting his attention, and it takes everything inside you not to pout yourself when he stands back up and doesn’t immediately kiss you. Despite the chill, there’s still a sheen of sweat that coats his permanently sun kissed skin, the spice of his cologne becoming more pronounced because of it.

“Thank you for doing this with me baby,” the teasing edge to Steve’s voice is gone, replaced with something softer - made even sweeter as he pulls you closer by waist, his nose bumping with yours when you stand on your tippy toes hooking your free arm around his neck. Your fingers twitch to be in his hair, you hate his hats.

“I’ll do them all with you,” you whisper because it’s just for him, it’s always just for him. His cheeks dust pink like he knows it and his hold on you tightens.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” the words come out soft against your lips, his eyes meeting yours from down the bridge of his nose.

“Three months.” 

The reminder makes him close the space that’s left, smiling into the kiss. It still feels like a hundred butterfly’s wings flutter against your rib cage when your lips slot together like they were never meant to be apart. It’s hard to get lost in him the way you want to with hundreds of people around and two dogs that can’t seem to stop their play fighting, tugging harshly on their leashes at your feet. That doesn’t keep Steve from tracing your bottom lip with his tongue when the tips of your fingers find the flyaway hairs sticking out of the bottom of his cap. You giggle against his lips and he can’t find it in himself to be disappointed when you pull away, like he knows you both should because of it.

“Careful, might have to take you downtown right now if you don’t stop,” he teases, biting his bottom lip to stop from kissing you again.

“I don’t think Eddie would ever forgive you for taking away his opportunity to finally be your best man.” Running your hands down his chest, you can feel his groan vibrate under your palms.

“Don’t remind me.” Steve lets you go, finally taking his hat off to reveal a dirty golden mess on top of his head, long fingers running through it.

Bandit whines, nudging Steve’s knee with his snout before rubbing the side of his face against his leg, ignoring the way the puppy jumps and paws at his side.

“I think someone wants to switch.” You grin at the way Steve’s face softens for his favorite boy, offering you Molly’s leash in exchange without a word.

“Someone missed daddy, huh?” Steve asks in the kind of baby voice you know he picked up from you, but the reference to himself still has you clenching like your second date. 

Bandit barks in response, tail wagging a mile a minute as you untangle the unruly puppy from around him. You give up quickly on letting her walk, picking her up just like Steve had, the wiggling weight of her in your arms has you biting your tongue about how heavy she really is.

“I think we’ve earned a margarita when we get home, right molly?” Hinting at Steve with a smirk tugging at your lips when you kiss the puppies restless snout - it's his turn to roll his eyes.

“Honey, we still need to pack. We leave for New York tomorrow at like nine A.M.” He runs another hand through his hair before putting his hat back on his head and you have to resist pulling it off as you both make your way through the crowd.

“Okay, we can pack and then a margarita… although packing might be a lot more fun after one. Just a thought.” You shrug with fake nonchalance, finally getting a grip on Molly in your arms.

“After we pack and drop off the dogs at Nancy’s.” Steve chuckles, moving to the other side of you so his free hand can find the small of your back, the blunt ends of his nails scratching against the soft fabric of your oversized sweater. He could never go too long, he always had to be touching you.

“Deal.” Grinning, pleased with your promised drink, you push up on your toes to plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek, heart swelling at the pink that dusts tips of his ears because of it. 

9:15pm 🌃

The first sounds of cicadas buzz low in your ears, another reminder that summer was just around the corner while the two of you sit on the porch swing. Steve had set up on the small deck in your backyard. It wasn’t big like the ones in the suburbs but it was just enough for Bandit and Molly to stretch their legs without a leash. The citronella candle that you swore to Steve would work, burns lemon and lavender into the matching dusk sky, still too early in the season to prove yourself right. The stars are still half hidden by the big tree in the corner of your yard that has started to sag from the humidity. Though a lingering chill still nips in the breeze and it has Steve pulling you deeper into his side. The pine of his body wash from the shower you took together just before this mixes in the perfect blend to make your eyes heavy and your heart full. 

“You think Nancy’s going to be okay with both of them for five days?” Your question comes out quiet in the calm, your cheek pressed to the cotton of his white shirt. The hard muscles underneath twitching from the warmth of your breath. The ice in your half drank margarita clinks against the glass when your wrist starts to get lazy.

“I think we’re going to have a very well behaved puppy when we get back,” Steve chuckles before relieving you of your hold, setting your cup down next to his on the deck.

You giggle to yourself at the thought, humming in agreement, when he takes the opportunity to really cuddle you now. A big arm wrapping around you while his hand finds yours so he can do his favorite thing. His chin hits the top of your head, and the tips of his fingers tickle while he twirls the diamond ring around your knuckle. You can feel the way his cheeks pull up against your hair, his lips a ghost against the crown of your head, always losing himself in the fact that you said ‘yes.’

“Did you pack the Cubs shirts I got for Gwenny?” Steve asks like he’s trying to think back to the mess of a packing session the two of you had in between stolen kisses and heated touches that always led to more. 

“That was the first thing you packed, handsome.” You squeeze his hand, the smirk on your face widening at how obsessed of an uncle he was for the newest addition to the Munson family. 

“Oh yeah, I remember now. They are under my dress slacks,” he mumbles, while the pad of his thumb rubs small circles under your ribs where his fingers curl around your side.

Cuddling deeper into his chest a comfortable silence falls between you, the cicadas buzz louder, mixing with the sounds of the city and you wish you could always stay like this, wrapped up in him and the glow of the moon that leaks through the shaking leaves on the tree above you. The silver band he twirls around on your finger makes you realize this is what he’s asking for. A forever of moments just like this one tonight, of first, of lasts, of fingers intertwined, soft touches, stolen kisses and whispered sweet words in the moonlight that feel even sweeter when he says them again in the sunshine. 

This is what forever looked like with Steve Harrington, and you always want to be his tough girl.

beta’d by @superblysubpar

dividers by @chechelia

[pinkcreamypeach]

"How in control are we?"

Characters - Princess peach, Prince Haru and Princess Daisy (In the ending part)

Sunshine beams down, warm and bright, casting a dazzling, golden glow on the bright blue sky, as far as the eye can see. Not a single cloud obscures this radiant view. The air is filled with the sound of birds chirping, creating a mesmerizing melody, while a gentle breeze rustles the leaves on the nearby trees.Green grass grows everywhere, stretching out from horizon to horizon.

The young princess takes a deep breath, her eyes closing in bliss as she savors the refreshing aroma of the surrounding air. She is meeting her betrothed, the prince she is soon to marry on her birthday, the first day of spring on March 20th. She has been dubbed "the spring deer" by her people on account of her beauty, and her mother gave birth on a magnificent mushroom during her birth, the Peach-colored fly agaric. The mushroom's color is stunning, a bright yellow-orange with pale striations on the cap's inner edge. The cap ranges from pink to orange-red, with a slightly paler color at the edge. The gills below the cap are white, and the stem is typically dark brown. This rare and wondrous mushroom is a symbol of fertility and abundance, and her mother named her "Peach" after her birth.

As the princess sips her tea, her thoughts turn to her upcoming wedding and the man she is to marry. Her mind is filled with conflicting emotions - looking out at the beautiful view before her, taking in the vibrant colors and sounds of nature, trying to banish her thoughts of uncertainty.

A gentle yet confident voice called out, "Princess?"

Her teacup gingerly placed upon the ornate table, she turned her attention to the source of the voice, her eye contact immediately fixed upon the figure before her.

"Yes?" The princess replied, her voice gentle.

It was the prince, his teal eyes sparkling with a lively energy as he stood, looking down upon her with a respectful bow. His reddish-brown nose wiggled in greeting. He was like a young, energetic puppy full of joy, and it was infectious. The prince’s smile broadened at her reaction, revealing pearly straight white teeth, as he straightened up, his tail wagging.

The prince stood tall, his teal eyes sparkling and a smile stretching across his face as he introduced himself. "My name is Prince Haru," he stated with pride, his voice clear and confident.

The princess nodded, her own smile still in place as she responded. "I know of your name, Prince Haru. I'm grateful for your assistance in saving our kingdom's sorcerer. It was truly a benevolent act, one that I will always remember," she said, offering a slight bow in thanks.

As they sat back down at the table, Haru and the princess couldn't help but stare at each other for a moment, each surprised by the sudden glow of their matching brooches. The silence was swiftly broken, however, as Haru cleared his throat and noticed the old-fashioned strawberry cake on the table. "Ah, a classic," he said, his eyes fixed on the dessert. The princess nodded in agreement, taking a small piece for herself.

The cake is usually baked in a round, layered cake pan with a flat bottom, which allows for the use of layers. After the cake is cooled, each layer is topped with a thick layer of whipped cream, and the strawberries are arranged in a decorative design on top. Finally, a fresh strawberry is placed on top as a finishing touch. While there are many variations on this traditional recipe, the key ingredients are the white cake, strawberries, and whipped cream.

As Haru looked at the delicious-looking cake with a mixture of hunger and admiration, his stomach let out a low growl, and he almost drooled at the sight. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, trying to compose himself before asking, "Your Highness, if I may inquire, who prepared this delightful dish?"

The princess blushed slightly at Haru's compliment and fixed her crown, which sat comfortably between her small antlers.

With a soft smile, she replied, "Oh, I made this baked dessert. My father doesn't like me getting dirty, especially since it's important to keep my clean appearance as a lady and princess." She couldn't help feeling a sense of pride at having successfully prepared a sumptuous cake for the prince.As Haru's eyes lingered on the cake, the princess couldn't help but notice his longing gaze. She gave him a kind look and hoped he would feel comfortable eating in her presence.

“I can see you're hungry aren't you? Would you like a slice of cake?” She said

“YE-*ahem* I mean.. That'll be a pleasure, your highness.”As the prince accepted the slice of cake with a clumsy nod of his head, Peach could see that his excitement was overwhelming him. His tail wagged faster as he brought the fork to his mouth, his eyes wide and bright like a child's on Christmas morning. He took a big bite, but his enthusiasm seemed to get the best of him, and crumbs flew everywhere, sticking to his whiskers and splattering across the table.

Despite the mess, Peach couldn't help but smile as she watched him devour the cake. He seemed so innocent and sweet, with his shy smile and tail wagging like a dog on a walk. She felt a twinge of tenderness in her heart, realizing that beneath his royal veneer, he was just a regular lad like everyone else.As the prince ate, the animals that lived in the kingdom seemed to come alive. The mushrooms grew taller, their tops bursting with color and releasing a sweet scent in the air. Birds chirped and fluttered about, filling the world with a joyful cacophony.

It was a perfect day, Peach thought to herself, and as she looked out over the lush garden, she felt grateful for everything she had. The prince continued to eat, his face smeared with cake, his movements awkward but sweet. As he took another bite, Peach felt a sense of contentment wash over her, knowing that she had made someone happy.

Peach smiled, memories flooding to her as she recalled the carefree days of her childhood with Daisy. She could almost hear the sound of Daisy's adorable laughter as they chased after a bird, the brown-haired princess jumping up and down and making bird noises. The image brought a chuckle to Peach's lips.

Daisy was always so adventurous, never afraid to get her hands dirty. Peach remembered how her sister would gladly play in the mud, but the moment a bird pooped lands in her hair, Daisy would scream bloody murder. She truly had a low tolerance for bird poop and that was something Peach always found amusing. Her bestie's would scream and complain like a true princess, and it was always fun to see her get all worked up over it. But despite Daisy quirks, Peach loved her dearly, and she missed those carefree days they spent together.

As she was lost in thought, Peach looked up and saw the prince trying to sneak another piece of cake. She cleared her throat to catch his attention and he instantly froze, trying to hide the piece of cake behind his back.

"Haru..?" she spoke gently, breaking him out of his trance. He looked up at her with a guilty expression

“Y-yes princess?” Cleaning his throat again for the second time.

“..Your highness ..I don't think we should be married..” Biting her lips nervously

“..Huh?”

He looked up at her with wide, curious eyes, his head tilted slightly to one side as if trying to make sense of what she had just said. The prince's eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

As the moments passed, the prince struggled to come up with an appropriate response, his face shifting through a series of expressions as he struggled to find the words to express himself.

Finally, the prince managed to stammer out a few words, his voice shaking with emotions that he struggled to understand.

"W-what do you mean? We...we don't have to marry?”

"Because, I believe that marriage should be about love, passion, and a genuine connection between two people. The idea of falling in love and getting butterflies in my stomach at the thought of being with someone, of having starry eyes when I look at them, of blushing so hard that it turns my cheeks pink, that's what I want, that's what marriage should be!" her voice was filled with emotion and passion, her hands clasped together as she imagined the perfect fairytale love story. Her bright, shining eyes reflect her dreams and desires for a future with true love and happiness.

While the prince was listening to what she was saying, his mouth fell into a shocked shape as everything clicked into place for him. His face broke into a huge smile.

"Why can't we have that?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with excitement.

"You never even proposed to me.." She said sighing

“But we're wearing these necklaces, which technically means we're engaged. Since it's like a ring of unity. That's what my father said." Haru said as he played with his necklace

Peach's ears drooped slightly as she listened to Haru's words."I know we're wearing these necklaces," she said, feeling the weight of the silver chain with teal gemstone around her neck. "But that doesn't mean we have to follow through with the marr-... "What do you mean a ring?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly.

He would explain he held his tail as he spoke “Well..when I was 10, I got this necklace as a gift. My father said that the Brooch is a legend that the owner of the second nearly-”

“Identical Brooch is a prince that will sweep her off her feet…” She finished his sentence

“yea that!” He pointed at her as she finished it, his ears pointed up more. Peach would think before her ears slowly raised up, eyes widen

“..Don't you think that's a coincidence? Were both given these necklaces on our birthday at the age of ten, we both are set to be married, these necklaces glowed and shines near each other.. How are our father's are close in ranking and power and are..friends? Don't you think that's a bit..a huge coincidence..?” Raising an eyebrow as she rubs her head

“...I haven't thought of all of that..but even if it was a coincidence. It's part of our culture to have arranged type marriages, it's quite rare for it not to be. Am sure they want the best for us, to be set up for life and be safe. Your father wants you by someone who can protect you, my father wants someone who can be nurturing. It's a great balance you know..?”

The princess frowned as well, rubbing the edge of her nose “But I don't want to get married. I want to wait! Not married to a prince who did a good deed. Doesn't mean I'll have to marry afterwards..It feels wrong and forced to me..”

Haru looked at her, his eyes softens as he sighs to himself as well.

“..I know it's so much on you. Our father wants this marriage to go though, it's going to happen on your birthday. Maybe we can work on doing this together you know..Maybe we can both fall in love..at least to make our fathers happy..” Haru went to reach out his hand towards Peach but she quickly pulled away getting up.

“I don't fake or force myself to love anything or anyone..I just can't..am sorry..”

Tearing up as she rushed off away, her footsteps fading away into the garden. Haru was stuck alone in his feelings, holding his hands together. His ears down as he eats the strawberry cake to make himself feel better. Wondering why they should even be married if they don't even know each other. He saved the only mushroom kingdom sorcerer, but this just doesn't seem right. It seemed so much on the princess.. But what would he even do? Complaining about an arranged marriage, what a silly thought. A prince's dream is to marry a princess and live happily ever after together. But did he want this? Of course he does.. he's a prince.. So why does his stomach twist and turn in pain? At the thought of this marriage going through?

¥….¥…¥…¥…¥…¥…¥…¥…¥…¥…¥…¥…¥…¥

The princess was crying in her garden as she sobs. Covering her eyes, why must she go and ruin this little meeting! Why was her heart beating so hard and fast, her nose red and sniffing. Until she felt a hand in her hair, peach's ear twitched as she gazed up redden baggy eyes. She saw her friend Daisy, who had a worried face. Her usually feline sharp pupils were big and round. Like a cat worried about if their owner was hurt or sad.

“..The meeting didn't go well?” Daisy said before sitting beside her, her knees to her chest. Her head tilted slightly, keeping her unusually frown.

“Y-yes..*sniff* Rubbing her eyes, sniffing some more. Her lips quivering before trying to breathe in and out.“Just I..don't want this..I-i..can't..I won't..but how..? Why do I have to be married!? I never asked for this!” Breathing hard, as she grabs her ears as tight as possibly. Her chest rising up and down, she felt like she was gonna explode.

As Daisy would hug her tightly. Rubbing behind peach's ears as she comforts her. Making soft purring noises, putting the princess slowly at ease. Her breathing would return to normal, holding her arm tightly. The princesses wouldn't speak, just enjoy the silence and comfort of each other's company. Peach needed this hug…it helped her calm down, the purring made it even more relaxing.. Slowly going limp into Daisy's arms, eyes fluttering to stay open.Getting a small chuckle out of the brunette, sensing the blondie was about to fall asleep.

She deserves this time of peace and quiet..

<End + Extra art>.

@bberetd @maceincognito @house-of-xiii @peaches2217 @magnas27 @keylovesstuff

[drowsy-quill]

Realized I had a whole folder of short stories/writing exercises from a creative writing class last spring so I think I'll start sharing them on here! This one (iirc) was a 20-minute free write that I did as part of my daily practice that I cleaned up for a ConCrit session in class.

The girl thinks she died the moment the tide first laved over her ankles, that she died clad in hot dog print boxers and her father's worn-out hoodie. She thinks she died under the full moon, stars wheeling silently above her. Her pockets were not weighed down by stones, but the girl sank nonetheless as she waded out into the water. She understood then the Greeks and their myths of sirens, of sailors going mad for the call of the sea. The gentle crash of the waves like a soft lullaby calling to her, come it said you will find rest here. The water embraced her wholly–unlike anything she’d known–wholly and entirely. 

As the waves crash over the crown of her head, she finds herself swept away by memories. She remembers learning to swim with her brother, two toddlers clad in matching garish orange rash guards in the small community pool. She remembers racing him when they were ten, bet I can beat you to the other side. She remembers long June afternoons spent growing pink under the sun cackling as the waves crashed over his head and he came up spluttering each time. She remembers the way the waves cradled the two of them side by side day in and day out, she remembers how at peace she was. She remembers–

She remembers drowning. The lack of panic and utter silence as the inky depths swallowed her. She remembers gazing back up at the moon as she sunk into the sand. She remembers a voice, warm and ethereal, different from the whispering of the tides. My child of the sun, why are you here?  She remembers the fatigue, the atlas burden of each day, she remembers—

She is thirteen, listening to what she thought were her best friend's last words. She is six and watching her cat close its eyes in the vet’s office. She is sixteen and watching her first love laugh at her tear-stained cheeks. She is eight and saying yes to a question no one should have asked her. She is ten and wondering if in death she would be finally loved. She doesn’t remember being a child–young, yes–but never a child. That joy was for luckier girls than she. Memory after memory flows from the girl's lips like a deluge, like a landslide, like a tsunami, into the open embrace of the moonlit expanse.

My little ghost, would you not return home? To the sun? To the shore?  She is no longer cradled by the sand, now she floats under the surface, suspended with her toes occasionally brushing the sand. I could lift your burden, child of the sun, and you could join me in my waters–in my stars. You could join your sisters underneath the tides or, perhaps, in the cosmic array. The girl stopped to imagine–a life eternal in a joyful waltz with the seasons and the sunrises, one of many lost souls now found under the moon’s light. She read a fairy tale once, with her brother, in a cloth-bound book their father owned, of a girl who refused to marry her brute of a betrothed and instead tried to drown herself. The moon, seeing her sorrow and taking mercy on her, changed her into a star and hung her bright in the sky with all the others who were rescued from their own grim fates. She always liked that idea, of becoming a speck of starlight, eternal.

Or, my little one, you may return home. To the beach and the bay, and the breeze. The girl remembered then her brother, his aggravating 9 inches of height over her and 9 minutes of life before her, she remembered the soft down of her pillows and the whorls of color on the quilt her grandmother made for her, she remembered crooning along to songs on her car’s staticky radio with the windows rolled all the way down her brother laughing in the seat beside her, and the smell of toast in the morning, and the sound of the sea birds outside her window, of long rainy days spent watching reruns mindlessly with feet tucked under her brother’s thighs, the way the wind chimes on the porch sound in a storm, the way her brother would throw popcorn at her when she would solve the mystery before the tv detectives did. Joy after joy after joy, no matter how simple, fell from her lips unbidden.

She heard the smile in the voice’s words as it spoke again, I see you’ve made your choice, my little ghost, the sun awaits you. Her second first breath was sweet, tinged with relief and joy and the chill of pre-dawn air, she could taste seaweed and salt in each lungful, stinging her nose and throat on its way down. The girl rose from the tide with the sunrise, sand and salt encrusted hair plastered to her neck and face, hot dog boxers sticking uncomfortably to her thighs, and hoodie weighed down by the weight of the ocean. She looks like shit. She had never felt lighter. She climbs the steps back up to her house and sits dripping in front of the television to watch Saturday morning cartoons, a cold strawberry pop tart in hand.  Her brother comes down a little while later, when the sun no longer embraces the horizon, and sprawls out next to her. He doesn't ask why she looked like a soggy mop, he just kisses her forehead and laughs at the puddle she left on the linoleum floor, stealing her second pop tart with a joke about his sister being replaced with a fish. She laughs with him, damp hair creating a puddle on the shoulder of his sleep shirt where she rests her head as they sit shoulder to shoulder in a patch of sun. Welcome home, the golden-warm light seems to whisper through the windows, welcome home.

[xienst]

MASTERPOST: enstars! summary project

THE ENTIRE ENSTARS! EVENT LORE SUMMARISED: for those who want to speedrun enstars! lore

here is a timeline of all the events in enstars!

this project will aim to summarise as many enstars! stories as possible so u can get the gist of the event stories without having to read through 100 eichi monologues

credits: timeline is copied from wiki

will be updated with links after every story summary!

[PRESENT DAY: year = !]

** events will be referred to by "<season> + <index>

春 SPRING: (C)

Shiny First Years

The Flag's Honor ✻ Crowned Flower Festival

Revival Festival☆Easter Night

Palace of the Ocean

Marching Band

Spring Storm! Dancing Petals, Sakura Festival!

Gang

Sweets Patisserie

Pyjamas

Mail Delivery -> spring section 1 summary

Devil's Mansion

Spring Breeze＊Iconic Book Fair

Lift the Curtains! Yumenosaki Circus

Sacrifice◆Resurrection Sunday of the Undying

Falling Cherry Blossoms＊Wisteria Purple of May

Toy Box

Angel's Wings

Card Battler

Runway

Dream Coloured Prince -> spring section 2 summary

In the Rose Garden

Fresh Green Martial Arts

Yell✳︎Sprawling Happy Spring

Evening Banquet ♪ Band Ensemble

Performance! The Tragicomedy of Romeo and Juliet

Secret Labyrinth

At Your Service! UNDEAD Cafe

Leap! Principal of the Lake's Surface

Play Your Part! Cinderella's Grand Stage

Terror! Tamayori's Haunted Dollhouse

School Festival★The Scramble of a Startup Hero

Billiards -> spring section 3 summary

夏 SUMMER: (X)

Ukiyo Air Ride

Merc Storia

Hero Show

Biblio

The Rainy Season's Blossoms

Breakthrough! The Revolutionary Live Which Heralds the Dawn

Chinatown

Nuclear Ignition ☆ A Sparkling Quintuple-Color Supernova -> summer section 1 summary

Victoria

Amusement☆The Live Party of Cats and Rabbits

Gondola

Judge! Black and White Duel

Round Game

Devotion! Brocade of Driving Away the Rainy Season

Gunmen of the Wilderness

Bridal -> summer section 2 summary

Symphony＊Magnolia of Blessings

Seven-Colored＊Sunshower Festa

Saga＊Rushing Up Rainbow Stage

Pool Opening

Comic World

Shot☆Splash Pool!

Challenge! Tanabata Festival Wishes

Dance Performance! Thoughts That Bridge the Milky Way

Facing One Another! The Celestial Globe of the Night the Stars Meet

Dance Floor -> summer section 3 summary

Dogfight

Ghost Stories

The Seven Faces of the Shapeshifting Youkai

Little Kings

Frozen Ice

Summer of Clear Skies! Summer Camp

Concerto

Set Sail! Pirates at Sea Festival -> summer section 4 summary

Kiseki☆The Preliminary Match of the Summer Live

Radiant! Sunflower Live of Smiles

Scorching Hot! The Scenery of Southern Lands and Summer Vacation

Surfing Ocean

Stars★Glitter of the Prism

Summer Flowers

Late Summer Lesson -> summer section 5 summary

Luminescence＊Summer Night Festival

Yumenosaki Restaurant

Remember! A Midsummer Night's Dream

Best Shot

Holiday

Scorching Heat ☆ A Seaside Beach Match

Buddy -> summer section 6 summary

Farewell! Festival of Memories and Quarrels

Launch! The Night Sky of the Shooting Star Festival

Carmen of Passion

Lost Star＊Wavering Light, Pleiades Night

Deep Sea Mystery

Drop＊The Far Sea and the Aquarium

Summer Sky＊Galloping Cheval Live -> summer section 7 summary

Onibi

Burning Up! Yumenosaki Academy Sports Festival

Fight! Yumenosaki Academy Sports Festival 2

Competition! Yumenosaki Academy Sports Festival 3

Cinema Theater

1001 Nights -> summer section 8 summary

Blue Filament

Cooking

Brilliant Star Air Force

Police Man -> summer section 9 summary

秋 AUTUMN (Q)

Kung Fu

Night of the Full Moon ＊ Hopping Moonlight Luna

The Coloured Flower Cards

Special Training! Mismatched Pair Lessons

Doctor

Rebellion! The King's Horseback Ride

Kiseki★Blitzkrieg Autumn Live

Robin Hood -> autumn section 1 summary

Science

Fruits Parlour

Happening◆Music Festa of Reversals

Secret Acts! The Moonlight Scroll of the Elements

Festival＊Graceful Fleur De Lis

Toryumon

Rosicrucian Story

Showtime

Howl★The Rockin' Star of the Night Sky -> autumn section 2 summary

Afternoon

Boutique

Raising Curtains! Dark Night Halloween

React★Magical Halloween

Lots of Monsters☆Sweet Halloween

Cacophony◆Whirling Horror Night Halloween -> autumn section 3 summary

Enjoyment♪ Autumn School Trip

Invitation★Black Blood Banquet

The Golden Wind＊Wishing Live of Encouragement

Teddy Bear

Colourful Autumn

Meikyoushisui

Hot-Blooded Tough Guy

BADBOYS -> autumn section 4 summary

Scramble ＊ Toyland in a Dream

The Songbird’s Song＊Soirée in the Canary Hall

Underdoctor

Autumn Forest

Discovery! Steampunk Museum -> autumn section 5 summary

冬 winter (D)

The Wolf and Red Riding Hood

Greek Legends

Philosopher's Guidance

SnowboardDream of the Butterfly

Rail◆The Cat in the Snowy Winter and the Camellia Train -> winter section 1 summary

Nocturne

Snow Globe

Agents

Snowflake❄Street Performance Of The Falling Stars

Shine! A Sparkling Starry Night Festival!

Winter Santa -> winter section 2 summary

Brilliance★Knights' Starlight Festival

Noel＊The Angels' Starlight Festival

Carol＊White Snow and the Christmas Eve Starlight Festival

Radiant☆Hot Holiday Party

Throwing! A Snowy Silver-White Snowfight

Eccentric -> winter section 3 summary

Kiseki☆Winter Live Showdown

Winter's New Year Shrine Visit

First Dream Tales (Part One)

First Dream Tales (Part Two) -> winter section 4 summary

Zodiac (Part One)

Amusement Park Show

Zodiac (Part Two)

Daikagura! Celebratory New Years Live

Showdown! Magnificent Phantom Thief VS Detective Brigade

Transparency and Masks -> winter section 5 summary

Clash of Arms! Opera of Moonlight Romance

Dance on Ice

Depart☆Blue Skies Dream Travel

Opening★The Fortune Banquet Live

Saga＊Clashing Rebirth Live

Revival☆Dream Diner Live

Shoufuku＊The Ogres and Brothers' Setsubun Festival -> winter section 6 summary

Last Period

Jewel Candy

Poison À La Mode

Tea Party

The Four Beasts of Fistfighting

Salon de Thé -> winter section 7 summary

Sincerely! Bitter Chocolat Festival

Melty❤Sweetly Unraveling Chocolat Festival

Decorate♥Crimson Chocolat Festival

Marble ♥ Heartfelt Chocolat Festival

Home Party

Onigashima -> winter section 8 summary

Yumenosaki Youth Radio♪

Military

Cunning ◆ Wonder Game

Beauties of Nature

Flutter! Chick and Emperor's Triumphant Return -> winter section 9 summary

[NEXT YEAR: year = !+1]

!+1 spring i think? (context: third years in ! are graduating)

Beasts

Memorial◆Class Live We Make Together

Noble Game

Chuunibyou Trouble

Bouquet of Desire

Chorus★Operetta of Beginnings -> !! spring section 1 summary

Every Pitch With All One’s Heart! Youthful Play Ball

Clash! Recollect--A Festival of Giving Back

Baton Pass! Repayment Festival of Tears and Bonds

Moment＊The Repayment Festival of Moving Forward Toward the Future

Requiem＊Sword of Oaths and the Repayment Festival

Link♪The Symphony that Starts from Here -> !! spring section 2 summary

!+1 post-graduation stories

Photoshoot! Warm Athletics

Puppy Mischief Picnic

Bounce! Hearts and Flowers Bloom--Mall Live

Strawberry Picking -> post-graduation summary

[BACKSTORIES: read with caution *** recommended reading is from year = enstars!]

(year: !-12)

(1) Rainbow (2) Revival - 20

(year: !-several)

(3) Gang: Midnight Gangster

(year: !-2)

(4) Zodiac (5) Meteor Impact (6) Jingle Bells

(year: !-1)

(7) Reminiscence＊The Crossroads of Each One (8) Reminiscence＊Monochrome Checkmate (9) Reminiscence＊Spring Cherry Blossoms and a Night's Encounter (10) Reminiscence＊Ryusei Bonfire (11) Reminiscence ＊ End of the Marionette's Strings (12) Reminiscence＊Gathering of the Three Magicians

-> all backstories summary

AND... THAT'S IT! THATS THE ENTIRE ENSTARS! SUMMARISED

a few things to note:

main story not included -- because it should be read before everything

CN/TW exclusive not included

timeline is definitely shaky but overall flow of stories should still be okay

-project start date: 17 Oct 2022- -last updated: 22 Mar 2023-

[buggyswritingcorner]

The light in your eyes

So much fluff I might vomit. Kinda domestic too? Idk I just whipped something up on the bus from school. Enjoy!

You awoke as the first light hit your eyelids. Your body was turned torwards the opened glass pane windows and you shivered as the sweet spring breeze made your hair dance along your cheekbones. Staring out at the blushed morning sky you realized that whilst the front of you felt a tad cold and exposed to the wind, your back was kept completely warm by another body.

A smile crept it's way onto your lips as you reached your hand behind your head to pet the whispy blonde hair resembling the fairest rays of sunlight.

First a shuffle was heard, then the grumpy muffled mumbling of the girl tightly hanging onto your torso with her arms.

A moment passed and the girl stretched her neck torwards your ear and whispered in a hushed voice.

"Must you wake me so early my pearl". She may have meant to scold you but the smile in her voice was evident.

"It's time", you whispered back, running the pads of your fingers along her cheeks blindly, still watching the clouds swirl in the almost burning sky. "We'll be late".

You were usually hard to argue with, your wit overpowering many, but your princess could care no less.

"Who cares," she grumbled in a morning honeyed voice, "No one will care, stay here with me".

Rolling your eyes in adore you exclaimed your voice laced with sarcasm. "Of course only the entire small council, the entire court, a few important aristocrats and half the Kingsguard will be there."

Smilling at your retort you continued. "But yes let's stay here and risk my head shall we?"

At that she grumbled, displeased at the mention of you being in danger simply by laying there in her bed, legs intertwined with hers, your hair splayed over the pillowsheets.

"I don't like it when you speak that way, it's too early to think of such horrid things you musn't say that again." Once again tightening her already iron grip.

"Forgive your measly servant your Grace, no harm was intented to your morning tranquil." You retorted turning in her arms to gaze upon her pale freckled face.

The faint mauve circles under her eyes indicating the actions of the previous night. Putting on a fashion show for each other, the brushing of each others' hair and the ever important discussions of two youths marking her face.

You were both so young, yet so unimagineably obssesively enamoured by the one in your arms.

Every one of her breaths would fill your lungs. Each of her blinks would wet your eyes. As long as she lived you could not feel pain, no blade sharp enough to reach your heart for it belonged to her.

Only she could ever graze your heart.

The deep periwinkles looked at you again. "I wish to never leave your side." Her eyes soft and misty, sort of far away as if she were only thinking the words she had spoken.

"I'll make sure of it, you really are stuck with me." Your lips curled, amused. "If not I fear I'd stop breathing."

Her giggles filled the room, settling and seeping into the covers so that you could never forget the sound. You feared the possibility of being pulled apart. Picked from your comfortable place in your garden of peace.

She would be put in a pretty porcelain vase, one matching her coloring.

You would be thrown as feed to the horses and cows.

You could not suffer it.

Remembering there is a place called the throne room where you two would be expected in less than two hours, you got up pulling the bed sheet with you. Rhaenyra of course tried to fight you for it, she did not succeed and so she ceased her thrashing.

You standing at the foot of the bed shook your head.

"How is it that someone can be as lazy as you?", you questioned.

"Oh forgive me my love for wanting to spend time with my one. Alone. For once." She shifted onto her knees shuffling torwards you. Once she reached you she encased you in a hug her arms clasping around your midriff.

"You really don't wanna go huh." I stated more so than asked.

She looked up at you in response and nodded her head.

You could only stare. Then once again reminded yourself of your duties.

"Come on we have to get dressed." Crossing the room to the attire you brought from your room the night before. First changing your underclothes, then pulling the dress over your head and lacing the front panel.

The dress had a beautiful pearl sheen. A gift. From the princess herself. Alicent herself said she was jealous of you once you told her of it.

Rhaenyra usually got dressed by the maids or Alicent, although in later years of your lives she had requested for your presence more and more. Until noone but you came to ready her for duties.

And then, lightly and gently she placed her hands on your shoulders. Rested her head next to yours and smiled once more.

She was - of course - still in her nightgown. She was waiting for your pampering. 'How adorable' you thought as you smiled back lacing the last string.

"Shall we get you dressed then?" You touched her chin lightly with your index and your thumb in a loving gesture.

"I say we get you undressed." She retorted with a smirk.

You could only say one thing between laughs.

"I love you, you royal idiot."

masterlist

Hope you enjoyed!

[kernowfurniture000]

Every Season's Soft Furnishings

Throw pillows, blankets, and other soft furnishings are wonderful for perking up a dull environment. They come in a rainbow of colors and materials to choose from. You may make a space feel more like spring, summer, fall, or winter by selecting appropriate textiles.

Curtains, fabric wall panels, cushions, and bedspreads are all considered part of the soft furnishings category. You can go thrifty, splurge on the designer, or even combine the two approaches.

The new life that spring ushers in can best be captured by using bright, cheerful colors. Daffodil yellow, the blue of a cloudless sky or a field of bluebells, and the green of fresh sprouts and young leaves are just some of the colors that will be represented. You can get inspiration for your designs in the natural world, specifically in the form of objects that bring to mind the arrival of spring and the beginning of a new growing season. Silk is a good option that will keep you cool and add a sense of luxury to your attire.

In the summer, you want to wear the airiest, brightest, and most transparent textiles you own. The fabric of choice is chiffon. White is a beautiful color to decorate with, especially white netting for the windows, which, when it flutters in the breeze, conjures up images of relaxing beach vacations. White's reflectivity will also boost the available illumination. Bright poppy red, vibrant purple, scorching fuchsia pink, you get the picture; a summer room can take a lot of colors to match the riot of colors going on in people's gardens. Fabrics with floral patterns or a checkerboard pattern are perfect for the summer, and people will also like these patterns because they will remind them of picnic blankets.

The changing colors of the leaves and the land in late autumn are reflected in the autumnal decor. In general, warm tones like rust, gold, and orange work well. As temperatures drop, fabrics get heavier to better insulate wearers and elevate their perceived level of comfort. We recommend luxuriously thick Shantung silk. Fabric prints could have motifs of ripe leaves or nut pods.

Heavy textiles are recommended for a winter room. As an alternative to leather, velvet is also a great option due to its softness, coziness, and high-end feel. The colors red and green, which are commonly associated with Christmas, are highly received. For the colder months, choose chocolate brown or deep purple. It's also possible to use bare trees or more traditional Christmas motifs like holly and robins.

Keep in mind that soft furnishings aren't permanently installed, so you have some leeway in how often you update a room's look. You could get some light curtains for the spring and summer, and some heavier ones for the fall and winter if you have the funds. You might also consider purchasing a couple of seasonal throw pillows to replace when the season is over. If you decide to do this, make sure to put the fabrics somewhere safe until next year's appropriate season rolls along.

You should also make sure that the room's soft furnishings complement the existing furniture and design scheme. Fabric accents should complement the style of the main furniture in the room, whether that's sleek modern pieces or rustic pine planks.

Learn the Basics of Soft Furnishings Every Man Needs to Know

When I was in my early twenties, the concept of upholstered furniture was foreign to me. If you had asked my opinion on scatter cushions or tailored curtains, I would have probably just stared at you in shock. However, for the modern man, it is necessary to not be intimidated by soft furnishings. These unusual artifacts can soon become essential tools for building a living place that works for you.

Even if you have no interest in the idea of soft furnishings, it is necessary to have an understanding of them. Picture this: you're stuck in a conversation with your significant other, who insists that you buy a round cushion for the living room. The pretending of interest is a possibility but can mean that purchases you don't truly agree with are made. Doing some research before shopping will help ensure that the items you buy are truly a reflection of who you are. The debates about those silly pillows probably won't even happen if you were involved in the selection process.

If you find yourself uninvited in a furniture store, here is a quick rundown of the kind of items you may see. Curtains, circular pillows, scatter pillows, underwear, and table linens are the most common types of furnishings you will see.

There is a wide variety of curtain alternatives, and I'm not just talking about colors. Curtains can be manufactured to order from the fabric of your choice. Taking accurate measurements is the most crucial step when making curtains. Curtain width, length, and track measurement should be taken after the curtain rail has been attached. Curtains should be hung either one meter from the ground in their center or a few centimeters from the bottom of the radiators. Giving the maker this information will allow them to offer a recommendation on how much fabric you should purchase for your personalized curtains.

The next targets will be round cushions and scatter cushions. These cushions have the potential to make a bold design statement all on their own and completely alter the look of their host surface. Pillows are the most common type of soft furniture, and they are also one of the safest options. As a result, you can enhance your home with fine furnishings. A round cushion is a cushion with a circular shape and a decorative button in the middle. When you're ready to give cushions another chance, try ordering some made-to-order in the fabric and with the trimming of your choice.

The concept of tablecloths shouldn't be too foreign to you, and I have no doubt that you will be familiar with them. Only round tables benefit from the elegant final touch that a bump beneath cloth provides when using formal table linens. It's important to remember to take measurements when you go shopping for a tablecloth.

That sums up our brief tour of the world of plush furnishings. With any luck, you've learned something new about the world today. I'm confident you'll do fine with upholstered furniture if you just use your common sense and listen to your own aesthetic judgment.

[daydreamer-anst]

A Court of Longing and Visions-ACOLAV

As you may or may not know I am an Elucien shipper. This fic is placed after acosf. I will keep the plot a little bit of a mystery because my ideas change regularly. I am not a professional writer and English is not my first language. This is my first work and I hope you like it. 😍

Ao3

Prologue

 Blood. Fresh, red blood was dripping off Elain’s white nightgown. Her hands were trembling when she raised them in the front of her face. It was like she had dipped them in a lake made of blood. She didn’t like the sensation on her palms. It was soft and hot. Someone else’s blood in her hands. Panicked, Elain started wiping the blood off her. She started jumping and sobbing when suddenly she saw the source of the blood in front of her. A pile of dead bodies was in front of her. Every single one staring with dead eyes in her direction. Some of those faces were familiar she came to realize. Her family. Her friends and family were staring at her with dead eyes. She sobbed harder and moved in their direction. But then she fell over a dead body near her. The body’s luminous red hair matched the color of blood around it. The blood around her. She turned the body’s head in her direction only to come across Lucien’s bruised face and lifeless gaze. Her mate. Her mate was dead. She held him close and screamed.

  Elain jolted awake. She wiped the sweat off her face and tried to inhale slowly so she could calm her heartbeat. She always made sure that the bond was sealed from her side at night. She didn’t want Lucien to worry because of her. Didn’t want him to think she was a freak. She cried a little bit at her too often nightmares which tormented her usually quiet sleep. Or it used to be quiet. When she was still a human at least. Even when her family was strangling in that cottage Elain had never felt this kind of fear. She was happy she had her sisters close and safe. Even when Feyre and Nesta fought she knew that they were safe and healthy. But these days she found it difficult to be calm. She thought it was stupid to worry now that they were among so much power and protection. Of course, she tried to warn everyone about her fears but no one listened. They were too busy with the baby and Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony. Plus no one took her seriously in those kinds of matters since she had offered to help many times but the answer was always that someone else could do it for her.

  She got out of bed and went straight to the room’s balcony. Spring in Velaris was quite cold and the chilly breeze made Elain shiver while she was staring at the night sky. The city of starlight, as feyre loved to say, was truly amazing at night. The stars and the moon along with the city lights that shone all night made a great contrast with the deep blue of the night sky. Contrast with what seemed unending darkness. It made her feel hope to think that there is light everywhere.  But just like darkness always finds its way, nightmares always find their way to her, and her awoken fears destroyed every ounce of positivity she had left. So, she used to spend her nights looking at the stars waiting for them to whisper the answers to all of her unanswered questions. She took her eyes from the sky to look at the Sydra river. Its water was flowing calmly and it made her wonder where and when its waters get violent. The river’s flow reminds her of her once quiet and predictable life which was so brutally disturbed by a sequence of traumatizing events.  She tried to understand, to convince herself to find her happy ending in a situation she couldn’t control. But was there anything she was able to control in her life even as a human? The answer was obvious, and it was haunting her along with her nightmares. The realization that she doesn’t know herself, she doesn’t know what she wants to be had concerned her a lot these days.

   Her sisters were too busy being happily mated to see both her dissatisfaction and confusion. Not that she blamed them. She was happy that they found peace in their new family, amongst their friends. But she can’t help the envy that grows in her stomach every time she sees them happy. She can’t keep her mind from thinking all the things she wanted are gifted to her sisters. She can’t stop feeling angry when she thinks that the future she craved was taken away from her only to be locked in a perfect cage made by her own sisters with every decision taken on her account by their acceptance. This state allows her to pathetically observe them at a distance but not live actively beside them. She is utterly bored and hopeless. Influenced by Feyre and Nesta, the inner circle has also become too protective of her. She doesn’t have an opinion except for garden or baking issues. Training was out of the question since Feyre gave birth to Nyx and was back to her duties. Nesta didn’t want to even talk about it declaring her refusal like it was her choice to make. But even if they had agreed Elain didn’t want to become a warrior like the Valkyries. Elain believes in a different kind of power. But no one cares about her opinion. If you aren’t a warrior in the night court, you don’t deserve a say. Everyone needs to be able to fight like some legendary hero. No one cares about the dreams she made to travel and see the world. To be free. And what hurt her the most was the fact that she never had the chance to make her dreams come true. And it’s quite disturbing not to be able to make your dreams come true in a place with people that call themselves ‘’a court of dreams’’. And instead of being free she is stuck being a political pawn for her brother-in-law’s advantage. If Elain had to pick a name for that court it would probably be ‘’a court of overprotective idiots without any dream that doesn’t involve sex’’. And it would be an accurate name.

  The only way she had thought about escaping in her human days was through marriage. A hope of a husband who enjoys traveling or at least one who lets her have a say in what happens in her life. But that plan kind of failed. Not only failed but left Elain deeply heartbroken because she had really fallen in love with her former fiancé. She used to make dreams about their life together and in her mind, it seemed like a great life. She thought that Greyson was her prince but in the end he proved himself to be a toad. She always wished for her life to turn out like a fairytale. She should have made sure that it would evolve in the right way and not backward.

   After Elain showed interest in her powers she started to have magic lessons with Amren in order to understand them but the lessons with her were so awkward that she couldn’t concentrate. Amren was looking at her intensively like she was trying to solve a mystery and that look disarmed her. So, she always left her lessons tired and disappointed. She had learned the basic skills that every high fae possessed but that kind of knowledge couldn’t help her get over her nightmares or control her visions. Rhysand on the other hand was always watching her wary and sometimes the look on his face made her feel like a criminal under interrogation. He always liked her but he was acting weird lately. Cassian wasn’t paying any attention to her since he and Nesta had a lot of preparations to do for their mating ceremony – wedding as for the Valkyrie unit they prepared.

  Azriel was nowhere to be seen along with Mor. She imagined that they would show up for Nesta and Cassian’s wedding in a few hours. She didn’t let herself think about the incident with Azriel. He had always been kind to her and the two of them had spent a lot of time together sitting in comfortable silence. Elain wanted to find her place in the night court like her sisters did. But she couldn’t. Not on her own at least. Elain always found the shadowsinger’s company enjoyable and comfortable. It was beautiful to feel someone there for her. Someone who could love her for who she was. Not because she was family. Not because someone else instructed it. She wanted to find the love she once shared with Greyson. Before everything. And she was really surprised when Azriel got her a present let alone a necklace. Of course, she returned it the moment she understood that another Graysen situation might occur if she kept it. Elain had enough embarrassment from the encounter with her former betrothed and she would prefer the history not to repeat itself.

  Elain sighed at her loneliness and desperation for freedom and love while she dropped her hands from the terrace railings. She had to get back to her room to get some rest before Nesta’s big day.  The preparations for Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony had taken weeks since Nesta had let Rhys arrange everything and they both agreed – for the first time in their acquaintance- to make a big fuss about it. Elain had been exhausted by the preparations because they wanted her opinion on almost everything: “You are the specialist in these matters” Nesta kept reminding her as if she could ever forget that everyone thinks that her only personal trait is ‘’her will to become a housewife’’. The ceremony would take place at the river house which was properly decorated for the occasion. The flowers that Elain had suggested were mostly white and soft blue so they could match Nesta’s wedding gown and some details in red so they could match the deep red of Cassian s siphons. Elain had put her soul into the decoration of the space because she wanted her sister to be the happiest bride. As happy as Nesta could be. The last two years had been tricky for everyone, and she wanted this celebration to be a reminder that there are still beautiful things in life.

  Elain stepped back inside, got back into bed, and had a rough time sleeping as usual. She had a constant sensation that someone had always his eyes on her. a strange presence always following her. That’s how she would describe it if someone cared enough to ask. Goosebumps erupted in her body, and she decided to bring the blankets over her head like they would protect her from what being was lurking in her room. At some point, she managed to fall asleep. A dreamless sleep but certainly not a relaxing one.

And because she always wants to be tagged @separatist-apologist Love you 😍

[love-archon]

A Poem For You

Fleeting romances in the court of the Raiden Shogun, whose reign stands eternally still...

Spring - 春

"In Naniwa Bay, now the flowers are blossoming. After lying dormant all winter, now the spring has come..."

-Wani of Baekje

• The old tales warn of kitsune: yokai that take on forms of handsome men and beautiful women to play tricks on the unsuspecting humans. When they are careless, however, their disguises slip, and one can see a tail or two poking out from under their robes.

• Or, in the case of your soldiers' archery instructor, Gorou, a pair of large, fluffy ears emerging from his hair.

• There are whispers of a general in the rebel army far in the mountains, who has the features of a fox spirit and the slyness to match. Thankfully, the army lacks valuable intel to proceed, and cannot move forward without the use of spies.

• You blink and, in a shimmer like dust on sun-baked earth, the ears are gone. The gentle afternoon breeze rustles the leaves, and he nocks his arrow and lets it fly.

• Perhaps you were simply imagining things?

• Gorou, who guides his trainees with a strong, reliable hand, steady as stone,

• Gorou, who splits arrows in half as they fly, vowing to protect you always,

• Gorou, who smiles fondly at you as you walk through the gardens of your estate, holding your parasol to veil you from the sun, would never betray you or the great shogun. Would he?

• One warm spring night, where the dew still drips from the sakura flowers, he sits with you on the rooftops. His round lazuli eyes meet yours, and he tells you, truthfully, that he'll be leaving soon. Won't you join him?

• Your heart stirs to agree, but you respond that you cannot abandon your duties to your family, or to the shogun. He looks disappointed, but gets up from his seat, telling you that he accepts your decision. “If you ever change your mind,” he begins, but stops when the look in your eyes makes it clear you can’t.

• But you didn't know that "soon" meant now.

• Papers stolen from your family's most secret rooms are rolled up in his hands. His plain clothes melt away to reveal the uniform of the rebel army. The foxlike ears you thought were a dream now rest on his head, clear as day. 

• Most striking of all, however, are the nine tails shimmering behind him- the mark of a fox spirit that’s accumulated centuries of magic.

• Your eyes can’t quite catch the way he leaves, and you’re not sure exactly when you became alone in the night with the flowers.

• Or if you’d imagined the saddened way he said goodbye.

Summer - 夏

"The spring has passed, and the summer comes again;

For the white robes are spread to dry on the Mount of Kaguyama."

-Empress Jitoh

• You do not know who keeps sending these letters, despite your best efforts. Only that they must be a refined noble of high status and excellent taste.

• Each cut of paper, beautifully bound, is dyed the right color to match the season. They are appropriately adorned with fresh sprigs of plants from the sender's garden, or tied with a luxurious ribbon of patterned silk. Lavish scents drift off the pages in a perfume that's sweet and light.

• Oh, and the words.

• The appearance of these gifts pale in comparison to the contents. The mysterious admirer has learned the alphabet borrowed from Liyue, and the complex brush strokes are applied with just the right deftness that each kanji character shines.

• Your beauty is eternal, they proclaim, like unmelting snow on summer mountains, and strikes the heart like a bolt of lightning. In your luminous eyes, the ideal of your god has been met- a thousand times over...

• As dizzyingly romantic as it is, one thing gives you pause, as you lift your own brush to write your reply.

• "Your god," it says. Not mine.

• Who would know the secret etiquette of the court so intimately, to the point that other suitors' letters paled in comparison... and not worship the immaculate Raiden Shogun, much less take an interest in you?

• Then you are sent in your clan head's place to deal with the troublesome Fatui that have slipped past your nation's defenses, and you find your answer then. Their leader wears the traditional attire of a traveling nobleman, and wields his weapon with aristocratic grace.

• His underlings fall rather quickly under your hand, but he himself is annoyingly persistent. He darts out of the way of your attacks, but it takes all your power to stop his from striking true.

• You do not get his name, only his face- fair and clean and luminous, with delicate features twisted in cruel amusement. 

• It’s a shame that you must marr it with your blade, but what can be done?

• Then, he glides past you, close enough to whisper in your ear, and completes the poem no one has seen but you. 

Autumn - 秋

"Even in the age of almighty gods unheard of;

The waters of Tatsuta are dyed in crimson red."

-Lord Ariwara-no-Narihira

• It is time for the great procession- an event of fanfare and decadence, where you and your family must travel from your ancestral home to the domain of the immortal shogun to display your wealth.

• Despite the excitement surrounding the occasion, you know quite well it is nothing more than a way to maintain control over the lords of Inazuma.

• But no expense must be spared if it means preserving your reputation. If it means that no other family dares question your wealth. Not in travel, not in housing arrangements, not in entertainment, not in the hired guards to protect you on your long and arduous journey.

• And so, after you pay the Kaedehara clan the exorbitant sum they demand, they give you twenty able-bodied samurai under their command... including Kazuha, their youngest son.

• The servant girls- and some of the boys- traveling with you blush when he passes, observing his lithe form and gentle eyes and striking, pale blond hair. One streak of red is visible there, calling to mind a sole maple leaf in autumn.

• Kazuha does not join in the other samurai's revelry. While they cheerfully indulge in the food and drink provided to them on the journey, and boast of their prowess when the time comes to fight bandits hiding on the path, he remains silent and alone, his eyes only on his collection of handwritten poems.

• (And, when you aren’t looking, they shyly flit to you before looking away.)

• In the end, however, Kazuha is the only one who actually bests a bandit in combat.

• Late at night, when the others are sleeping off the wine, large shadows flit past the trees. The bandit clans in the area thrive during this time, like hunters when beasts migrate in droves. They're confident that this traveling party will be easy prey.

• But one thief approaches too rashly, too quickly, and one crimson eye opens to meet him.

• Kazuha drifts from one opponent to another like a leaf falling from its branch, carried by strong winds. And yet, none of them can touch him. One after another, each man collapses with a sharp cry, only their silhouettes visible in the darkness. 

• In the morning, the traveling party awakens to see fifty-some criminals tied up and piled up in a heap, and bursts into laughter. As the other samurai are still hung over, it’s clear who was responsible for this.

• Yes, Kaedehara-kun is a wonderful samurai. Skillful, composed, brave. And an excellent companion to have by one’s side, if one is lucky enough to have met him.

• It was quite the shock to learn that he would later flee the islands, sailing onward to the Land of Contracts aboard the ship of a pirate lord.

• But if anyone had the strength of mind to defy the gods- wouldn’t it be him?

Winter - 冬

"In winter, the early mornings. It is beautiful indeed when snow has fallen during the night, but splendid too when the ground is white with frost..."

-Sei Shonagon

• Lady Ayaka is one of your closest friends, with your families being in a partnership for centuries. You have fond memories of playing together in the snow, with cranes flying overhead in the white sky.

• You know her secrets, and she knows yours. Nothing is kept between you- this is how you survive in a court of treachery and lies.

• So when she passes by in a sunlit hallway, you hear a whisper that shocks you to the core. Smooth silver hair floats past your sight, quiet as snow, and just as fleeting. But you must collect yourself quickly, for spies may lurk behind any silken screen.

• You will be betrothed to Kamisato Ayato, your dear friend's older brother, in ten day's time.

• As close as you are to Ayaka, Ayato has always been a shadow flitting in the corner of your sight, being too busy with his duties to see you. So his visage- to you- is as featureless as a field of snow.

• After all the romance novels you've read, it's difficult to accept marrying a man you've never spoken with, but... what can be done? You can only hope that Lord Ayato is kind and treats you well.

• But... what if he isn’t?

• Lady Ayaka would never speak ill of her brother. In fact, no noblewoman would even consider such a notion, even if it were true. Good appearances, on every level, are more important to nobles than gold. 

• But all the same, you’ve seen the ladies of the court who are trapped in loveless homes like birds in cages. How their smiles are painted on, how their laughs ring hollow and empty, how they glance longingly to the world outside, beyond the lavish court that hides them here.

• Your gaze drifts towards the harbor, where the water shimmers with light. You could run away, too. To the eastern mountains, where your former archery teacher hides with his fellow rebels- although to do that would invoke the shogun's wrath. Or, riskier still, follow Kazuha's path to the harbor, and chase him on to Liyue...

• “Young Lord Kamisato is waiting for you,” a servant says, breaking you from your thoughts, and bowing hastily before you can meet her eyes. The servant across from her does the same as the paper doors slide open, and they do not rise as you walk through.

• This room is airy and spacious, of course. Wind from opened windows seems to sigh as it passes over you and beyond, and you can smell flowers from the garden carried in from the breeze. How strange... even a garden that you played in countless times seems completely new and unfamiliar.

• Gracefully, soundlessly, Ayato emerges from behind his ornate screen. Power and elegance flows from his every movement. And at last, you dare to look at what you have never seen before.

• You look at his face, finally revealed before you, like translucent ice giving way to the land beneath the white...

• And gasp.

_______

Author's Notes

Wani of Baekje: Each opening quote is a poem by a famous Japanese author, but Wani was a scholar visiting from Ancient Korea!

Great procession: Known in Japan as sankin kotai. Powerful lords were forced to spend massive amounts of money to travel from their homes to the shogun's castle and back; in this way, the shogun was able to keep them on an efficiently tight leash.

[animetrash53]

Solangelo Week Day 1

@solangeloweek

Day 1 Prompt: Throwback

I did some digging and found a solangelo week 2021 prompt of mythological creatures :)

Read on Wattpad

Words: 1990

Shutting the door behind him, Will makes his way through the village. Being sent out to the woods to retrieve healing herbs wasn’t an unusual task for him. He knows Lee is too busy running around treating all the common cold cases to go with him. (Sidenote: Lee and Michael are alive and well in this AU thank you very much.) He doesn’t mind though; the forest is peaceful. There’s enough space between each of the trees that sunlight easily shines through to the forest floor. The trees themselves appear to reach the sky; the section of woods near his village is said to be favored by the goddess Artemis. He reaches the end of the main pathway through the town; ducking down one of the side paths, he waves to a few people passing by. The sound of people talking dies down as he approaches the peace within the wooded area.

The sound of running water from a nearby spring and birds calling to each other are the only sounds other than Will’s footsteps. The greenery of the moss scales up the tree trunks and across any fallen logs or rocks. He stalks through the smaller vegetation along the ground, careful not to disturb the mushrooms. He makes his way through the foliage, carefulling picking out any plants that may be of any medicinal use. Sunlight reflects off the crown of his golden hair back into the sky; which matched the shade of his eyes that day. He makes his way through the woodland gathering plants to take back to the infirmary. He breeches the otherside; the farside of the forest stops short of a cliff overlooking the ocean. Will doesn’t know the reason behind the clearing, but is appreciative of it. It leaves a peaceful place to sunbask. He takes a few strides out, stopping short when seeing someone there.

A boy; with ivory skin, ink black hair, and coffee colored eyes… and wings. Feathered black wings on his back. The boy turns, startled by Will’s presence; both of their eyes are wide. Will’s nothing short of pure awe, his with alarm. “What are you?” Will breathes, amazement prominent in his tone. Others may have been scared, attempting to fight or run from this boy; although fighting him wouldn’t have been in their favor as he has a stygian iron sword strapped to his hip.

They’re both frozen as the sea breeze rustles across the ledge. Will’s words seem to have reached the ethereal boy, turning him defensive. He tucks his wings against his back to the best of his ability, his lips turn to a frown; regarding the golden boy standing in front of him. Will senses he’s hurt as he starts to turn away. “I can help.” He calls out. The boy freezes, pondering on how he could know that he’s wounded. He turns back to face the sunbeam, his expression changing from defensive to perplexed. He unfolds his right wing, revealing a gash across the middle. An invitation to heal Will doesn’t miss. He crosses the distance to him, slowing as he gets within armsreach. The pale boy hasn’t spoken; he eyes Will up, studying him now that he’s closer. He’s covered in freckles, they’re scattered artfully across the bridge of his nose onto his cheeks, down his neck, surely down his shoulders and back, although he tries not to let his thoughts linger too long on that. There’s more freckles on his arms, more than his face and neck combined. His eyelashes are a stark black to his bright complexion and eyes. His hair is a sun kissed golden tone, except at the very base, where it’s a darker brown, the same shade as his eyebrows: not an uncommon feature in blondes.

His expression softens now that he’s had the chance to thoroughly study Will, who stands a good heads-length over him. “Can I touch you?” He asks, treading carefully. He finds it will be easier to talk to this boy when he doesn't feel compelled to stare into his dark guarded eyes. He nods, opening his wing. Will crouches in front of him, breaking open the stem of a plant he collected. “You’re god-touched.” He observes, it’s hard to miss the wings.

“You’re a legacy of Apollo,” he replies. Most humans don’t have the gift of healing. Will chuckles a bit; rubbing the fluid from the plant stem onto the gash.

“Have you met him?” He asks, a playful undertone in his voice. Though he is curious.

“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” the boy replies. Sarcasm outlines his words, Will chuckles.

“If I may ask, what’s your name?” Will inquires the god-boy.

“Nico,” he replies. He awkwardly shuffles his feet, not used to having someone this close to him, let alone touching him.

“I’m Will,” he offers, glancing up at him. Nico looks down at him, watching his hands use different plants to treat the cut on his wing. His hands are calloused, his fingertips send tingling sensations through his skin; ruffling his feathers. Nico stands in place, awkwardly rubbing his arm. Uncertain on whether he should try to make small talk with Will or not. “How’d you get cut?” Will asks, breaking their silence. He unfurls his wing a bit more as Will nears the other end of his wound.

“Fighting a monster,” he tells him. He looks alarmed.

“Was it venomous? Is it near here?” His voice is panicked; jerking away from Nico’s wing to stare up at him.

“No, it was pretty far away. This was just the safest place I knew to land.” Will settles, knowing that the boy hasn’t been poisoned.

“You flew with this?” He demands, jestering to the cut. Nico finds his scolding manner amusing, smirking to himself. Will’s attention already turned back to the cut, noticing how fresh it is. Blood makes the feathers around the wound sticky, a few are broken from the slash.

Will’s done all he can do, and stands. He steps back, turning his eyes back to Nico’s. The ravenette turns to his appendage, folding and flexing the muscle to check for any pain. Decidedly satisfied, he folds his wing against his back. Will’s eyes are still filled with the sight of his stunning black wings and almost asks him to see them again. “Thank you,” he states. Will smiles. Nico’s hesitant to leave the sunshine boy but doesn’t know how to talk enough to stay.

“It’s what I’m known for,” Will offers.

“You work as a healer then?” He asks; Will nods.

“Can- can I ask you some questions?” The blonde inquires. Nico nods, earning a small smile. He stalks to the ledge, overlooking the ocean, glancing back; inviting Will to follow. They sit at a respectable distance from each other. “Who are you descended from? Not that many gods have wings.” He states.

“Hades is my father,” he informs him. Usually this creates reactions of shock or fear, but Will seems perplexed.

“Hades doesn’t have wings,” he ponders aloud.

“Godly lineage doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Nico offers; Will accepts this answer after considering the fact that the brothers of Hades control the sky and oceans. “I’m not full god,” he tells him. “My mother was human, but it seems I’m immortal and retain god-like powers.” Will gazes at him as he speaks, studying him. Nico turns to him as he finishes explaining. “Can I ask you some questions?” Will seems taken aback but nods. “It’s clear that you have lineage of Apollo, but how much?” Will shrugs.

“He may be my father, but no one’s sure. My mother won’t say; I can only heal. I’m not exceptionally gifted at music or archery.” Will’s displeasure with his abilities is apparent; he stares down at his hands, looking mildly disgusted.

“Healing is a very helpful gift.” Nico tells him, his voice is tender in an attempt to soothe the boy beside him. “Are you an immortal?” He asks; once again, Will shrugs.

“Would I know?” He stares back at the pale boy, noticing how the sun reflects off his hair. He shakes his head, looking away.

“Not for awhile, maybe when you reach adulthood and realize you still look too young.” Will nods, turning to face the sea, the breeze rustles Nico’s feathers, he’s fanned them out a little more, relaxing a bit.

They sit together in silence, Nico kicks his legs off the rock the way a child would. Will watches his legs bounce off the stone; uncertain of what to say to the avian boy. He finally settles on something to say.

“How do you know about this place?” A smile flits across his lips.

“My friends and I come here, we like to fly off the cliff together. There’s a great windflow.” Will nods.

“Sounds like fun. Do they have wings like you?”

“No,” he replies. “One of them has a pegasi and the other can control winds.” The blonde nods again. “Do you live nearby?” Nico asks. The question offers an answer to how he knows about the place.

“Yeah, the village through the woods.” Will gestures turning behind him.

“Oh, the gods like that village. Very nice temples.” Will laughs. “I’ve never been, I hear it’s lovely.” There’s a slight sadness pulling his voice down. Will turns serious, frowning a bit.

“I wish you could see it,” he offers. There’s a comforting warmth in his voice. His words make Nico flush a pale pink. He jerks his face away; Will notices but remains silent. Nico stands, Will follows.

“You should probably get back.” Nico’s eyes gaze up at him, causing butterflies to swarm his stomach.

“Um, yeah.” He replies. Neither of them move. “Will I see you again?” He asks, Nico looks conflicted.

“If you’d like,” his voice is quiet; barely above a whisper. Will smiles.

“Three days? Same time? I can check on your wing again.” His excitement is clear but polite. Nico suppresses a smile, nodding. Will smiles down at him, his sky eyes bright with joy. He relents, finally allowing one unapologetic smile to be seen. It warms Will’s heart. Nico stares up as he lurches over the edge of the cliff. He opens his wings, catching a gust of wind; ascending in altitude he shoots back up before gliding off out over the ocean back to wherever he came from. Will watches the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen fly off; knowing that he’ll appear again like he agreed. He turns, trekking back through the forest.

Returning to the infirmary, Micheal sits inside, going through some files. “Hey Will,” the older boy looks up at him as he steps inside. “Get anything useful?” He looks at the content in Will’s hands before he can reply.

“Not much,” Will replies, handing him the plants.

“That’s odd,” he replies. “It just rained.”  Going over to a shelf, he organizes them all into their respective jars of the same species. Will takes the place beside where his brother previously was, beneath a large window.

“Yeah, I guess it’s too early. Nothing’s actually grown from the rain yet.” Will replies absentmindedly.

“That makes sense,” Michel mumbles under his breath. Will stares out the window up at the sky, neglecting to hear his brother’s words. His younger sister, Kayla, walks in; spotting Will. “Hey, how was it?” She asks, referring to the morning’s task of plant gathering.

“Interesting.” Will replies, gazing out the window up at the sky; the vision of an angelic winged boy filling his eyes. 

[matchamorphosis]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 || you and Andy go on a trip to Greece for your birthday and discover the love you have for one another.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 || fluffy fluff

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 || andy barber × black[birthday girl]!reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 || 5.2K

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 || jealousy, some rom com cliches, divorced!andy, i used like six different dividers to match with the storyline so very sorry if that’s unusual to you!

𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 || past lives by bornes. mariposa by the peach rascals. apricot princess by rex orange country. out like a light by the honey sticks & ricky montgomery

𝒘. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 || this is a birthday gift for @areyoustchewpid!!!! happy birthday ingrid!!! everyone go wish the birthday girl the best for her special day! 💗 I hope this fic fulfills your dreams of Greece with lawyer daddy and i hope you cherubs enjoy reading this <33

 + p.s || do not repost, republish or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or steal my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡  

THE GOLDEN FLICKER OF PALE PINK CANDLES CREATE A HOLY CHASTE HUE AGAINST BASHFUL SMILE BRIGHTENING YOUR FACE.

an event that you’ve been expecting all day yet while a firm chestnut table sits underneath your crossed legs cools as a sweetpea and seasalt ocean breeze blows into the dining room your expectations have somewhat been granted and changed. where only a three layer chocolate cake sits between you and Andy, both your lovestruck eyes never leaving each other despite the comet rippling starry sky glimmering from the white paneled windows.

everything is all sparkling, soft pink and golden at this moment.

from the rosy dawned blush that grazes against Andy’s cheeks to the blushy tone of your sundress and beating heart. candles sparkling to life as you and him in the very moment, wax melting in rosy dewdrops just like the fear of allowing these caged emotions to fly free. now they seemed to have been unrestrained by the gold bars of worry, aversion, and self committed rejection.

simple cursive writing made of periwinkle icing contrasts against the dark fudge confection this dearest friend of yours created. this friend who might have been something more in a life way beyond this year and century but as your heart beats in a melody casted by the Muses themselves it pirouettes with the cupid bow lights dancing in Andy’s pools of hopeless paradise. it’s all enough for you to lace your fingers with his-which you do- and wish for something else to spread against your lips besides the cake you both will cut in a minute after you blow your candles.

the words below your cupid struck glance read Happy Birthday Y/n in the divine candlelight, a squeeze of his hand only encourages the rapid pace of your heart to jump and for you to swallow your hesitance. a very same feeling floods Andy’s insides but for the past minutes just sitting directly on the table, lighting your candles and enjoying the meteor shower, he hasn’t kept his promise to himself.

a promise he made for himself since the beginning of today when he discovered how his palms sweat when you neared him and how his heart warmed when you spoke his name and how his soul just sang a different song when you took his hand.

he should say something now, he should tell you how much you mean to him in this different roseate light. maybe you’ll say the same words back and maybe with the rush of the rose glasses besides you both one thing may lead to another but what comes out of his mouth makes him bite his tongue. “I hate to break it to you but wax is getting on the cake,”

those words snap you out of your amour aura, eyes fluttering for a second and smiling afterwards when you see Andy fidgeting with the crystal glass in his large hands. cheeks reddening like ripe strawberries glowing in the warmth of spring, it radiates the space between you both and with an almost whisper to your name he has your hands in his soft palms. “what do you wish for y/n?”

the question makes you swallow the raspberry rose laced lump in your throat. the love potion for an innocent drink still glistens in your glass that rests beside your body but it would spill if you would do the simple action your heart has been caressing your mind to just pull his collar down to smash his lips against yours.

to feel the tender roughness of his bearded cheeks in your palms and his lips molded along with yours in a kiss that would put all sculptured lovers to shame. it’s making you sink and float at the same time but the sparking second that Andy leans down you oblige.

“i’m sorry for not realizing it all those years,” it makes your brows scrunch in slight confusion at the confusion, his cool apricot breath wafting and twinning with your airy exhale when his nose grazes against yours. the heat of the candles underneath your close faces, you raise your hand to cup his face.

“realizing what?” its then did the breath escape your lungs and your heart to stop beating.

seeing her open her eyes the very morning brought a different comfort than to watch her sleep- it was a normal thing to wake up but to experience her lashes fluttering to life to reveal the life in her sun speckled eyes was something for Andy. she rolled over, burying her face in the crispness of white sheets with a lazy grin.

through the honeycomb glass of the white portiéres of the hotel room, the soft sunshine of the province morning streams in and lights the bedchamber. the melodic sound of birdsong and light chatter slowly rouses her awake. Andy is seated in front of the swan feathered colored vanity, combing his hair and keeping the time on track on his watch.

the man had loads planned for you both today, a day planned for you both to be bone tired at the end but still reflecting on the memories and experiences once you laid your head to rest to sleep when it was over. the tapping rhythm of his polished tar black dress shoes fills the room, making you part open your eyelids to see who’s disrupting your peaceful second slumber.

“morning sleeping beauty, happy birthday,” he almost sing-songs, a slight whistle in his voice completely overtaking any fiber of drowsy and sleep riddance that enveloped your mind and body.

“morning Andy and thank you,” you grin with your porcelain smile, stretching your arms while simultaneously lifting your sunkissed legs. arching your back in a firm crane, yearning a deep yawn from you as you savour the sunshine on your ankles and naked shoulders.

“so I have a few things planned today but I thought it would be best to eat breakfast out at the cafe we talked about instead of ordering room service. what do you think?” his eyes focused on you in the mirror and you have no choice but to glance back with your remark weighing on your tongue.

so after a smile that was more than enough to let your childhood friend know that you were along with him for the ride you found yourself ready for your special day. a slightly puffed sleeve and flowy mint green sundress adorns your bodice softly, making you radiant in the morning sun that appears to be a glowing lemon slice across the cloudless skies.

arms securely wrap around Andy’s waist as he guides the scooter the same color of the sparkling sea and reflecting powdered blue vault above. hanging on to him as he brings you both to the tiny yet timeless cafe near the roaring pier of crashing waves and ancient cobblestone streets. the bouquet of large sunflowers that were tenderly hugged tightly between both your bodies are now free in your hold. their sunshine yellow petals sway in the morning breeze and take in the virtuous sunshine that rains in golden streaks on this magical day.

taking your seat near one of the outdoor tables, shaded by the umbrella the same color as the satin banner you both order your first meal as the waiter set your beginning entry of cheese, grapes, croissants and wine on a pine wood board in between you two. street cars come and go, along with passing people looking for special sites of eternal Athens Greece. the ocean bringing a calm sea mist breeze that only adds onto the refreshing and ecstatic tangibility seizing your atoms yet as you both talk about the plans you have for today.

although the words of the waiter coming to refill your tall glasses breaks both an uncontrollable smile and laugh between you both. “couples get a discount,” he spoke and you both had a dime for when you both were mistaken for a couple you’d be swimming in a sea as large as the one that captures your irises and heart.

with his confusion Andy quickly nods along, “yes we’d take that discount thank you,” and the waiter smiles back as he steps away after filling your glasses and informing you about your meal which you both thank back.

“Andy I thought we weren’t gonna take advantage of discounts by pretending we’re a couple anymore,” you broke with a raised brow and Andy only rolled his eyes in any way that wouldn’t ever be taken seriously by anyone despite his job disposition.

“awe come on y/n let's relive old times! do you wanna pay full price when we’ve been doing this for years?” Andy looked at you through a playful demeanor that you only recognize when he’s concocting and getting away with something as seemingly harmless as this.

“i’m not really fond of the backlash when it backfires on us in the end,” you speak as you bite into a butter croissant, the rich pastry practically melting on your tongue. “also you’re making us sound like some sort of Bonnie and Clyde duo. doesn’t look good with that attorney license of yours Barber,” you laugh as you return the same eye roll back as you sit up with your glass in hand.

“remember when I booked us a reservation at that restaurant when we were in college and I freaked out over the bill? I ‘proposed’ to you and once everyone cooed and congratulated us we got our bill cut in half-”

“and I nearly kicked your ass afterwards, yeah Andy my foot is remembering the loss,” you intervene which makes Andy shake with loud laughter enough to make all the other pairs -real couples instead of you sly imposters- stop from their conversations to glance at you two breaking into hysterics whilst eating green grapes and sipping on white wine.

“to be fair we were broke college students! money was tight as hell back then but I didn’t see you complain when I got on my knees and put a ring on your finger. I thought the rhinestone looked very good with your dress that night,” popping a grape in his mouth with a humorous smirk etched on his lips.

“i’m sure you were looking forward to saying that when you gave me a kinder surprise from a candy machine.” rolling your eyes as you bite into another golden croissant, pairing it along with a nibble of creamy cheese that taste heavenly on your tongue.

“alright you can hold that against me I still deserve it,” Andy still remembers the other students in his seminar congratulating him and some who didn’t know about his engagement and divorce to Laurie still believe he’s engaged to you. it was funny and seems like something straight out of the cheesy rom coms he and you used to binge together as bored high schoolers.

that you and him used to scoff and egg on the oblivious main protagonists to just kiss and push away the denial to just be together but amongst all these couples in the morning light at this café it’s you two reliving your movie annoyances. it was hilarious and unfortunately ironic but Andy Barber didn’t see anything or comprehend the knot in your stomach when you took his hand and said something he couldn’t quite hear.

all he was paying attention to in the slow-motion picturesque of your gleaming smile, the sparkle in your deep lashy eyes and how your lips moved so theatrically as you spoke his name.

Andy, Andy, Andy

eyes glossing over in wonder, it was possibly the prettiest thing he’s seen and he’d wish to hear you say his name one more time. heart yearning to just catch your lips movement yet as his mind wedges himself back into reality he finally catches what you’ve been saying.

“Andy our food is here,” you said as the waiter came with your large glass plates of oven baked pizzas. the comforting rich smell of toasted cherry tomatoes, mozzarella cheese and freshly baked dough fill his nostrils. it's enough to cover the lush sweetness of your Dior perfume he loved taking a whiff of when you'd lean over the table to sneakily reach for his grapes and croissants.

“um, yeah thanks for the heads up,” he spoke in almost a broken sense of charisma compared to his boyish behavior minutes ago but it’s just now that’s Andy denying the feeling-

the seed of amorous that had been planted in his heart a long ago that’s beginning to sprout now.

after roaming the creaky wooden piers with the sunshine twining divinely against your hair and every inch of revealed baby soft skin. a clementine in his hands and an apricot in yours, feeding the peels to the doves that rest besides the ancient stools as Andy give hands you cardinal slice after citrusy cardinal slice.

dangling both your legs over the docks and enjoying the way the rippling waves brushed against your curling toes. sweet orange and apricot filling your mouths like the sun spreading its orange and blush provenance across the aqua waters. lonely fingers fondle with your citrus fruits that you bought with wo shiny coins from a passing vender in a straw sunhat.

savoring the ocean blue and the sunny sky revealing the cotton white clouds that dot like dollops of whipping cream upon it. the sea breeze dancing with strand hairs, the topic of a greenhouse visit sparks and a sense of adventure rushes though bloodstream. within a matter of seconds you both race to hop back on the forget-me-not scooter.

inciting a school children challenge on who’s going to get there first and with the swiftness of putting your sandals back on and running against the mossy and dandelion cracked cobblestone had you seated on the bike. “I win,” you grin and of course Andy just gives you a fauxly hurt demeanor.

“you cheated,” you only hum back at his petty exchange, playing along for his sentiment until he sighs in his defeat. with the engine starting off you and him race to the glass palace that is the greenhouse.

a golden rimmed and sea mist colored empire, it stood out to you when touring the tiny city of colorful roof houses and marketplaces. mossy vines and leafy thorned shrubbery beautifully frame the interior pillars as rich golden sunlight fill in the glassy castle. cement molds create the railing for the lily pad and swan lotuses of the man made ponds. an occasional jasmine frog leaps from pad to pad as the milky pink and yellow koi’s swim about in the shadowy water.

exotic trees and wild plants bunch throughout the establishment, creating shade against the Apollo’s heavy rays as Andy lifts his head to marvel these large and tall works of Artemis. of course, with your polaroid camera you found in the rummage of your closet (that you haven't used since senior year of college) in a tight hold. wandering feet walk through the limestone pavement of the greenhouse, a sunflower in your hair that brightens the deep greens succulents and rich browns tree bark.

the vines of soft pink and purple flowers dangling from the glassy dome roof fall their baby pink petals as a breeze presents itself. some already settling in the brown tawny of Andy's hair, not far behind you smile at your face glossed in wonderstruck marvel. wide honey brown pools trail up the ten foot marble and ivory statue, reflecting in serenity cosmoses from the rainbows that spread from the crystal glass.

a sense of desire takes ahold of you as your slowed hands lift to trace your dark fingertips through the crinkle wrinkle of a marble maidens skirt. such detail and intricate design of the craftsman long ago must’ve took years to perfect, the cloth falling seamlessly upon the maidens body as her body crouches to run your clay hand again at the pond water. lifting your camera to your eyes, snapping your desired pictures that are set to capture all the whimsical aspects and elements that take your breath away.

Andy dares to draw near, it wasn’t like he hasn’t stood close to you at all- he might be making it hard on himself by overthinking ever move and step but you call out his name and his heart paces.

“yes y/n,” making his way to where you sit near a pond, you don’t say anything as you wrap the strap for the camera around your neck. fixing up your dress from any wrinkles from scrunching the hem up when dipping your feet in the sea earlier. checking your hair and make up in your hand mirror that you retrieved from your designer purse. an arched brow raises up at you, which you only respond by rolling your eyes and hand him the camera as you smile at yourself in the reflection of the ponds water.

“can you take a picture of me?” as you reapply another layer of gloss on your lips, the fishes swirling in the water to jump to the service to witness the beautiful nymph who have graced their pond themselves.

cupid bows perk at the fish and blow them kisses, your hands grab at a floating lotus before grasping the tender water blossom. putting it in the raven coils that delicately frame your face, damn it y/n.

it was as if you were torturing him with those mascara bambi eyes and glossy primrose lips, it makes his insides buzz and flutter like the malachite dragonfly that passes here and there.

“you telling me you want a picture or did you already decide for me yourself?” you only smack his chest with the camera once again.

“are you going to take the picture or not Barber? did you loose some of your magic with all that lawyer jumbo clouding your head or did you take those freshman photography lessons seriously?”

Andy rolls his eyes and takes the camera from you with a chuckle, “actually i’m still capable of using a camera y/l/n, god you’re making me feel old. go model for me,” you just laugh and run across to the other side of the pond.

soft skin from your legs revealed from the way your sundress lifts bends against your chest. head resting upon your knees while your arms wrap around them, the sunflower in your gasps and the lotus behind your ear. at this moment as the seconds turn into minutes Andy should be taking pictures, his eyes are looking through the lens as his index finger rests on the button.

with as much as single press he captures the greenhouse nymph but what good would a single picture do to capture every gift and grace you bestowed in the offering of your charm, beauty and heart?

it makes Andy's heart race, your eyes dashing from the godly statues that surround you to the camera. sweet music plays in deep cherry wood cellos and willow carved violins and even with the buzzing dragonfly it seems it found its favorite flower at the tip of your nose.

you certainly are the creation and waking of spring flowers and lovesick tales that took his heart then and its still yours now.

that single snapshot was all he could think about you two drove down south to the coast. searching back the drunk nights before where you and him ran into a little covelete whilst drinking goblet after goblet in the forest of olive and grape vine trees. it was a long ride but nothing suited the wait better than the man on the radio singing with his strung trichordo.

the hands that grip Andy's shoulder slide down to wrap your arms around him tightly when the minutes pass and the forest of green olives and sangiovese grapes. parking the scooter near the shrubbery of some innocent bush you and him look for the wine stash the both of you left in the abandoned cavern of an ancient olive tree. Andy grinning as he grabbed the expansive bottle and before you know it you both head to the hidden beach.

Andy didn't plan to actually go swimming, just settle the gingham blanket upon the finely grain sand and open the picnic you both prepared. and he also didn't prepare himself for the rosy blush to dawn his face when your almond nails grip the hem of your sundress to lift it up and over your head. revealing your matching bathing suit underneath its quick that you throw him a wink and race to the nearby grassy cliff.

"see you soon Barber!" you yell and as Andy gets up from the blanket to understand what you mean by that its too late. the summer air is filled with your laughter and sky rippling cheer as you jump off the cliff and dive into the cloud blue water. the splash nonexistent from your perfect swoop.

if only he had the polaroid on him to capture the way your smile gleamed brighter than the sun reflecting off the sparkling water the the way your eyes cutely scrunched like sand dollars under the warmth of golden sand.

the silver green of the olive trees emphasize the richness of your skin. the rich skin he couldn't keep his sapphires off as you laugh your choir laugh that would make Apollo cease his chariot to listen to the siren of Olympus once more. dancing in the turquoise waves of the coast, they crash against your soft mounds, curves, and dips of sun glistening hips and waist.

how could he have been so blind?

rage and anguish slosh around in his mind that pour melancholic rain onto his heart, you were there for him through thick and thin. a friend he believed but how could he have buried that yearn and longing for you all those years?

it's almost criminal to the highest degree and he'd know his side of the justice system but how could that distract him from you? his head was far too buried in those lawbooks to realize, too oblivious to his emotions when you'd date and hang around other people that weren't him. looking far into the looking glass hoping that his work would pay off in the future, meeting another woman and putting a ring on her finger.

now here he is, a divorced man but a still very much happy man. lonely at times with his only child in the custody of his ex wife but still very happy with the comfort and support of you. it was you who helped him from the tears at night and it was you who he wasn't scared to open up to. even the past few months he didn't realize it but now as you call his name to get in the water he doesn't hesitate to pull his shirt over his head and take his shoes and socks off.

joining you in the water in a mater of a few heartbeats, it was as if you were a sea spirit calling for him and even if you weren't he's happily obliging when the small waves collide against his skin. both your laughs rippling the ocean in this small ocean paradise, swimming in the richness of the present never would have guessing that throughout all these years you be here.

the salt water on your skin has dried as you and Andy walk side by side, your shoes rubbing against the gravel of the cobblestone paths as both you peer at the vendors and food stands arranging from rainbow scaled fish, fresh sesame seed breads, farm produced milks and cheeses, and vibrate fruits and vegetables. hands twined together in a firm hold, unfathomable excitement practically radiating off of you while you chat and giggle with Andy.

the topic of the conversation changing every few minutes when you find a stand that grabs your attention. curious eyes and wandering hands look over organic produce and homemade goods the people had to offer. the golden clutch of your purse being opened multiple times and Andy's mouth being stuffed with jam, cheese and fruit samples on the account of you. as you did you shopping he did as well, the ingredients for a sweet treat he had planned for you later on tonight are in a brown paper bag amongst your purchases.

of course he had to carry them all, not in obligation but because he didn’t want you to worry about shopping too much when you’re in the midst of enjoying your vacation. by all means he certainly wasn’t complaining, if anything he liked having you giddy and bursting with energy. practically dragging him from stand to stand and carrying your bags filled with stuff that you’d bring back home and try.

the village square where the marketplace takes place is tinted in an ambrosial hue, the sun now a glowing slice of grapefruit against the peachy pink carnation sky. lavender clouds that seem so close to grasp tower above you both yet they don't prevent the suns glow from capturing the beautiful soft planes of your face.

luscious and softer than the bouquet of sunflower carnations he surprised you with as you looked at the variety of sunhat options. one that you just purchased rests floppily against your temple but still doing its job at keeping you shaded from the suns glare. wrapped in a silky green bow, Andy smiles at how huge it is but it just makes you look divine and adorable in your sundress.

holding his hand tighter before tracing them up his forearm to softly grasp his bicep, it you who's leaning against him and pulling him close to you. the feeling of your body alongside his is warmer then any sunshine that seeps into his skin and lovelier than any of the flowers the market had to offer.

it’s hard to give you one excellent gift to give back all those years of commitment and loyalty and friendship but the way your lips spread in that enchanting smile it’s enough to make Andy know -despite the both of you not saying it- that you feel the same way to.

the bouquet in both your holds lifting up every once in a while for Andy to smell and for you to admire as you walk away from the noisy market. a little behind the village were the spring green of the countryside clashes within the stone brick city is a valley of flower arbors and hedge mazes. it was the last pitstop Andy the bags in both your hands settle down against the safety shadow of a maple trees shade and with a little laugh and an excited squeal he run to the flower arbors.

green rows of soft shrubbery dotted and laced in colorful blossoms stand in multiple rows upon rows look over of petunias and carnations. small apple and lemon trees in potted beds line up within the flowery hedges and no matter where you look it’s only the divination of spring and the gifts it bestows the Earth with. wooden picnic basket that was once used from your beach picnic is now empty but it’s quickly filling with the sweet smelling beauties of the flowers and fruits and you pluck.

Andy not fair behind you captures your wondering body in the still frame pictures of your polaroid camera. the pictures emerging quickly afterwards, he’s quick to fab them off and place them in your small picture album. turning your head over your shoulder your caught with Andy having the perfect opportunity to snap a picture that would be a bedtime story to tell with a child of his and yours.

it’s perfect and breathtaking, no matter the feeling of his heart thumping in its lingering hesitance you were the star that’s still continues to shine despite being out in broad daylight. it pulled at his heart strings because he knew what this feeling was, this feeling that he been avoiding to come to terms with all day but why was he so terrified?

the fear of rejection wouldn’t burst his heart but it would remind him that he was alone. a man like him wasn’t born to walk this Earth, wake to the sun and sleep with moon alone. the very presence of you besides him made him feel all the things besides lonely and bare to the universes cruelness at times. but maybe you felt the same way about him.

he only had one way to find out and he was set on keeping it, whatever sea he had to cross, valley he had to travel to and the plummeting ends to the Earth he will pronounce his love.

snapping another picture of you, you smile in it and with that he smiles to.

"realize what Andy?" you press on but in the rosy candle light his lips pressed against yours seems to be the only answer he can bring himself to conclude.

it's takes the breath out of your lungs and makes your heart blush and burn deeper and hotter than the tiny flames that decorate the cake. the roughness of his bottom lip that have been occasionally bitten the past minutes of dancing around your feelings. the nerve of you both to push aside your feelings for each other because the fear of breaking each others hearts.

if only your past selves could see you now, shedding your hearts and allowing the key to them to finally open the gates of vulnerability and yearn. the passionate lovesick mess tastes delicious against your mouths and you both could get drunk off it instead of the rose. sweet and inching for more as your lips part to graze against each other, but in order to seal the prophecy of established lovers Andy pulls away.

"that i'm in love with you. that i've always been in love with you. it's been years and i'm sorry for just realizing it now but I need to know if you feel the same way. please tell me now, please," he whispers against your lips.

now its your turn for our heart to skip beats and take in each and everyone of his words. fluttering eyes drowning in his copper blues, you open your mouth to say something but nothing but a soundless nothing comes out. all these years your love for Andy has been buried deep within you and you've tried your best to hide that seed. to plow in new seeds because what use was that seed if it never flourished when he'd feel the same way.

you don't realize until you feel the tear dripping down your cheek, he wipes it with his thumb. pressing a kiss where it once existed and it's now that you realize that it's always come to this. your lives weren't entirely paved in stone but the love that has a faith of its own is something that changes as the pages of a storybook turn.

this virtuous night being the newest chapter and as much as you're scared to follow along your heart has been waiting for this moment for so long. with those teary eyes that bring some to his own you smile and pull his face with yours, pressing your lips with his to mark your answer clear, to make him feel the way you feel.

"i've always felt the same. dear god Barber it took you twenty years and it all worked out didn't it?" you giggle against his mouth, feeling his grin as he kisses you back.

"what did you wish for?" he murmurs and you only smile and wrap your arms around his neck, "this,"

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[cherrynojutsu]

Title: Like Silver

Summary: A companion series for Like Gold.

Sakura misses him so much. She misses the faint smell of woodsmoke and sage, and mismatched eyes captivating in their intensity and unfathomable depths. The Rinnegan is beautiful, soft lavender ringed by hypnotizing layers of circle and tomoe, but flecks of silver dance in his right, tiny asterisms bewitching in nature, if one gets close enough; she’d first noticed it when they were children at the Academy. She knows they're Itachi's now, a slightly different scattering of luminaries aglow in the deep pitch of obsidian, but they're still as enthralling to her as they had been back then. She dreams of that silver sometimes, recalls it any time she sees something similar in color or reflet.

Blank period, canon-compliant, Sakura-centric, some expanded plot points from Like Gold, fluff and pining, eventually becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes

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Chapter 1/?: An Introduction to Electrocardiography

Sakura gazes out the window of her office, a pile of paperwork set aside for a poetic sort of procrastination, trying to indulge for once in a Konoha spring, though she's finding it arduous.

As pretty as it is this time of year, all she can manage to feel is wistful.

Hanami has come and gone already for the most part, though there are a few stubborn cherry blossom trees lingering at the tail end of their blooming. She can see one here from her window, up on the hillside that slopes towards Hokage Rock, clinging to the uneven land. She’s sure its roots have to be all twisted, a labyrinth of gnarled wood clinging to any scrap of land it can wind itself around as its branches and petals try against all odds to reach upwards into the open sky that she can’t take her eyes off of.

There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, but it’s one she doesn’t care to unpack.

This year was her twentieth viewing of her namesake, though Sakura obviously doesn't remember the first few. Her parents take great pride in the retelling of tales from those first few years of her life, the ones she was too little to remember. The highlights come up annually on her birthday without fail, how she grasped at the petals like they were something precious, clutched in her sticky little hands the entire day.

A framed photograph is perched on one of the built-in shelves of her parents' living room, of her and her father on her first birthday. He was holding her up on unsteady legs, ridiculously proud and pointing towards the camera where her mother had been trying to get her to look. Her short pink hair was flying absolutely everywhere, matching the fluttering petals and in-bloom cherry blossom tree in the background, chubby hands grasping upwards. Strawberry cake and frosting were smeared all over her cheeks. They’d had a picnic for her, at the park nearest to their house.

“We came home and cleaned you up, and then your father helped you water your tree for the first time, in the little pink watering pail you unwrapped earlier. You were so cute.” That’s what her mom says every year. Sakura has the sentence memorized at this point, could recite it on cue, if she needed to.

Her parents had planted a cherry blossom sapling in their backyard a few days after they brought her home from the hospital as a newborn, so the tree is around the same age she is. She used to spend time under it often, as a kid, and some of her earliest memories involve sprawling beneath it to study the heavens while her mother gardened. She would also sneak berries from the patch when her back was turned. Sometimes her dad would join in her pilferage, and they would sit beneath the tree like a couple of bandits with stained lips, though those first few years she can remember he barely fit underneath it, as tall as he is. Many a tickle fight had been had, shaded by those branches. She would read books there on nice afternoons, when she was a little older.

The tree is fully grown now, also on the final cusp of its blooming for the year, floriferous wood expanded outwards to drape her childhood stomping grounds in a sea of soft pink. They have a picnic under it every year, in her family’s backyard, when they celebrate her birthday together. Her actual birthday has come and gone, but her birthday dinner is two days from now. Her parents swung by her apartment on Sunday afternoon for a bit with outlandishly large cupcakes, but her mom had mentioned they’d do dinner and a gift on their usual night, Thursday, since it works so well with their schedules every other week.

“We have to have your picnic, under your tree, like always. It’s a tradition! My beautiful girl. I can’t believe you’re twenty. It seems like just yesterday you were only yay high,” her dad had told her, gesturing below his knees before hugging her too tightly, ruffling the hair she'd inherited from him before they left. The cupcakes were strawberry with cream cheese frosting, one of her favorite treats. They’d left her with four extra to enjoy between then and Thursday, one for each day if she wanted it, turning her birthday into more of a week-long affair than a one-day celebration.

She and Ino had demolished two of them while watching some of the terrible movies they love to hate together, later that evening. It had been a smorgasbord of strawberries, really, because they'd washed them down with strawberry daiquiris, sugary sweetness topped with ridiculous amounts of whipped cream. They'd sat on her balcony, after, sipping a little tipsily and just looking.

"You should try to enjoy your namesake more this year, Forehead. You're so busy that I'm not sure you've realized, but you've really grown into it," Ino had said, beckoning vaguely towards a Konoha beginning to bloom, renewed with a warm breeze, spring ushered in by a fluttering of pink petals. Ino likes to give compliments in roundabout ways, she’s learned over the course of their friendship; crass as the blonde can be, she does have her moments. Her words meant a lot to Sakura, so she’s trying to take them to heart, to stop and smell the cherry blossoms, so to speak. It won’t be long before Konoha crescendos into the sweltering heat of the summer.

She loves her parents and her friends. She really does.

But birthdays are weird, Sakura thinks.

Last year, Sasuke had sent her a letter on her birthday. She’s reread it so many times that she has it more than memorized; it’s stitched into the muscle tissue of her heart at this point, or maybe scarred into the lining of her aortic valve, sempiternal markings adorning the tunnels that sustain her, causing her breath to catch every time.

Sakura,

Hanami has come to the wilderness in the Land of Honey. Bees are awakening and foraging for the first pollen of the season, with which to begin again. Cherry blossom petals are everywhere, lining the pathways and floating on the water.

Happy birthday.

-Sasuke

It had been short, simple, and even a little poetic; she had cherished it, as she does all of his other letters. She’d cherished the pressed flower with it just as much; a cherry blossom, neatly flattened with a precision that screamed Sasuke, near exactly the same shade of pink as her hair.

Sakura had started crying when she unfolded the paper to reveal it sitting atop his words. His hawk had waited patiently at her office window for a response to be written and tied to its leg, perched atop the windowsill and watching the goings-on of the village below, absolutely no concept in its predator brain of how much she delights in seeing it fly, a graceful tether to the boy - now man - she has been in love with for ages.

Cherry blossom petals are everywhere. Is there a hidden meaning there, or is she making a mountain out of a molehill?

She’s tried not to read too much into the letters. She's not sure if he sends any to Naruto or not; she's too afraid to ask, because she'll either get a heart-pounding hope if he doesn't get them, or a soul-crushing disappointment if he does. She can't imagine him sending a yellow flower to Naruto, but he may very well have sent him a different gift for his birthday.

Maybe he just thought she would like a flower, which she did - it’s pressed for safekeeping, along with all of his other correspondence to her, sporadically and chronologically throughout a book she keeps on her nightstand, An Introduction to Electrocardiography. It is her take on an album of small things she holds close to her own heart, things she wishes she could read in his. Sakura didn’t want to buy an actual album for such a thing; that felt too formal, for something as ambiguous as her ties to Sasuke, overflowing on her end as they may be. So she’d settled on a book about deciphering the heart’s tells based on science only, electrical impulses and repolarization, the sizes and positions of the chambers, how to diagnose conditions utilizing one’s findings. It’s one she doesn’t need access to anymore, extremely familiar with EKGs after years of study. She’d wanted it to be something no-nonsense, all hard facts and data on how to read activity plotted over time.

Evidence-based. Are letters evidence, though? She’s not sure that would hold up as empirical proof in any of the scholarly journals she’s studied or submitted work to since beginning her research. She thinks wryly, though, based on what she has witnessed get published, that scientific verification doesn’t always matter if you know the right people.

She’s thought many times sifting through it that perhaps it is too optimistic, too hopeful of a book subject for such a thing. Sakura has agonized over it, frankly, wondering whether it was an inappropriate choice.

...But now that they’re in there, it might ache worse to move them somewhere else.

It’s the last day of March now, and she didn’t get a letter this month, which is unusual, because she’s gotten one near each month in the time that he’s been away. She’s paged through the book a few times over the past several days, rereading and admiring the preserved sakura blossom, frozen in suspended animation indefinitely on a page about precordial leads.

Sakura hadn’t really expected anything from him for her birthday, other than a monthly letter like he usually sends... but this year she didn’t even get that. She’s trying really hard to not be disappointed. She has so much to be thankful for, in the grand scheme of things...

...But the petals of the cherry blossom from last year have faded over time, she’d evaluated yesterday, sitting in her bedroom. It might be like her, always pressed in a book, fading whilst stuck indefinitely between the boundless teeth of academia. There is always more data to record, more evidence, with which one can prove or disprove their findings.

No letter this month, though. Nothing to record, no new evidence.

It might be time to move the letters somewhere else, she thinks pensively. Maybe a place where she’s not tempted to look at them all the time; their placement in the book, small scraps of paper that stick out in only a couple of places, makes it easy to go back and reread them. She’s pretty sure she has an empty shoebox in her closet that she could move them to, in a pile rather than catalogued between pages rife with information and a fragile sort of hope. Maybe she’ll do it tonight, put it up in the far right corner of the upper shelf, shoved towards the back so she can’t reach it without the stool, so she’s not tempted whenever the next bout of heartsickness slams into her like one of Tsunade-shishou’s fists used to. She needs to go by the library after work first, to return some things, but maybe when she gets home, she’ll do it. She could eat a cupcake, too; that might make it a little easier.

Sakura misses him so much. She misses the faint smell of woodsmoke and sage, and mismatched eyes captivating in their intensity and unfathomable depths. The Rinnegan is beautiful, soft lavender ringed by hypnotizing layers of circle and tomoe, but flecks of silver dance in his right, tiny asterisms bewitching in nature, if one gets close enough; she’d first noticed it when they were children at the Academy. She knows they're Itachi's now, a slightly different scattering of luminaries aglow in the deep pitch of obsidian, but they're still as enthralling to her as they had been back then.

She dreams of that silver sometimes, recalls it any time she sees something similar in color or reflet. There’s an extremely unique necklace in an antique shop she visits with Ino and Sai from time to time, and occasionally on her own, over on the northeast side of town. It’s a salt-and-pepper diamond, dark grey with inclusions, dainty and set in what must be a hand-fabricated setting. It hangs from a silver chain, towards the back of a display case filled with other vintage and distinctive pieces, but it’s the only one she ever finds herself drawn to. It is so similar to his right eye, dark smoke near black, speckled with beguiling silver startling in its clarity. The bevel cut reveals new flecks dependent on the angle at which you view it.

Sakura studies it closely on each visit, because it is so hauntingly breathtaking and it reminds her of him.

Ino has said it’s not her color, and that she should stick to warm tones and gold, for which she is better suited; Sakura has not confessed to her why it catches her eye so much. Sai has agreed with his girlfriend on the coloring note, sensitive as he is to such things, but the way he studies her every time she tears herself away from it makes her suspect he knows exactly why it captivates her so. It’s been sitting there for years at this point; she has to mentally talk herself out of buying it on each visit. It’s beautiful, but she would spend far too much time gawking at it, and it might hurt more with extended study than the gentle tugging at her heart she experiences when she’s in that old building throughout tiny fragments of lackadaisical afternoons.

Sasuke has been gone for a long time. She hopes he's finding the peace he's been seeking, that he's seeing the world with new eyes just as he'd imagined. She thinks of him every day, sends out little orisons like petals in the breeze in the hopes that they’ll find him, wherever he is.

I wonder where he is now.

Try as she does to enjoy the breath of spring Konoha is right now, and her namesake as Ino said, all she can seem to do is shift her vision to the sky, hoping against hope for a glimpse of a familiar bird-of-prey that will stay an ample amount of time for her to craft a response, before it abvolates away for another month.

Sakura smiles, then, close to laughing at the absurdity of it all, because she is so predictable. She loves this village despite its many flaws and challenges, despite the things about it she and Naruto and Kakashi-sensei and Ino and even Tsunade-shishou, off in the Land of Wind, are trying to change, but even after so many years, she’s still pining for something beyond it, something in the wilds of the sky just beyond her reach.

There’s always next year, she supposes, pupils drawn again towards the outstretched branches of the cherry blossom tree on the hill, before trailing her eyes along further. She can grow a little more to try to reach him. When she was little, she had wanted to grow tall so she could try to touch a star, like the branches of the tree in her backyard did when she and her father laid beneath them on balmy summer nights. He would tell her ridiculous stories about all of the constellations, things she knew had to be untrue, even at the ripe age of five. Precocious, he’d always called her, but in the loving, joking manner he had.

Her gaze follows the horizon, leisurely taking in the rest of her home. It really is a lovely day, despite her yearning. Spring is here again, and today's is a gentle sunset, one last little bit of sunlight with which to conclude March. The temperature is already spiking, unusually warm for early spring, but summers in the Land of Fire are always hot. She really should finish her paperwork, but it’s hard to find the motivation just yet.

Something possesses her, then, to turn her neck more, take in more of the skyline's continuation. She wants to see all of it.

And then Sakura’s eyes fall on an achingly familiar figure cloaked all in black, perched only a roof away and observing her, and she thinks she must have nodded off, because she has to be dreaming.

She subtly pinches herself in the millisecond of time that follows, but she is very much awake.

The words are blooming out of her throat before she can even process what’s happening, exultation sinking into her every vein. “Sasuke-kun!” She moves to crank her window open the rest of the way, and he hops from the neighboring roof down into her office, all nimble legerity that she still thinks has to be a mere mirage conjured from her memories. When he straightens to his full height, she muses that he has to have grown taller. The mere sound of his footsteps on the tile flooring, as familiar a refrain to her as if he’d just walked out of the village yesterday, are a treasure beyond price.

“Sakura.” His voice is a rich timbre that she has desperately felt the absence of; hearing him say her name almost makes her want to cry. She smiles wider instead, to the extent that it almost hurts, and her gaze latches hungrily onto the very eye she was just daydreaming about. A storm of soot and silver, beveled into countless fragments like some kind of dark, rustic diamond, and so staggeringly beautiful that she’s pretty sure she’s blushing just from beholding it. Gods, it's not fair for someone to be so handsome.

“When did you get back?” She asks, utterly overcome with joy. This is better than a letter or any birthday gift she could have received, brighter than any star she’s beheld.

“Just now.” He’s smiling, a small and subtle upturn of lips that is so characteristic of him. Then his words hit her, and her face must be getting redder.

Just now? As in…

“I’m sorry I missed your birthday,” he adds before she can simmer on that for too long, and she has to blink in bewilderment, because that is the absolute last thing she expected him to say. Sakura wonders how much heat can creep into one’s face before they spontaneously combust.

Then she realizes she should probably respond, as humans tend to do in conversations. “Oh! Um… it’s okay.” She folds her hands in front of her shyly, grinning like an idiot. “Thank you for remembering.”

There is a lengthy moment in which she just soaks him in, hoping he can read in her eyes how much she’s missed him. He is still so beautiful, prized eyes and aristocratic angles that have solidified a bit more into the face of a man in the time that’s passed. His hair is different now, covering his Rinnegan eye. His cloak is a little more threadbare, too. He’s tall.

His expression, normally unreadable, is calm. Content, even.

There’s a question nagging at her that she knows she needs to ask. She tries not to bite her lip as she asks it, braces herself for the possibility of not liking the answer.

“Are you… just back for a little while?”

Did you find what you were searching for?

He gazes at her for so long that she thinks he may be glimpsing her soul, peeking into her ventricles to see his own words immortalized there, seared into her core to be felt each time her blood pumps.

“...For more than a while.” And she smiles the biggest she ever has. Oh, this is so much better than a letter or a gift.

“Well, welcome back, Sasuke-kun. It’s… very good to see you again.” It feels as if a piece of her heart has been returned to her, something of the divine stitched back into her chest and full to bursting in omneity.

There is a pause, and then he’s reaching his hand out towards hers, initiating physical contact with a touch that is feather light, so gentle she thinks she is going to start sobbing.

She can’t help it; she pulls him into a hug, tinged with elation. She hopes he doesn’t mind too much; he stiffens for a brief moment, but then settles, wrapping his arm around her and settling his head atop of hers, and she could die happy right there, embracing him with feelings momentarily set free from where they’ve been whelved into her chest.

He smells faintly like sage and smoked cedar, just as she remembered. She can hear his heart thumping, a strong cadence, and it grounds her. Oh, she’s missed him.

“...I’m home, Sakura.” Soft words float above her head, and she can feel the vibration of them through his chest, right by her ear.

Oh, she’s crying.

Sasuke lets her embrace him for a long time, for which she is so grateful. She knows he’s not one for physical contact; it’s a privilege to be allowed into his space even for a single second, let alone for an extended period.

She draws back eventually, glancing up at him again through the tears still collecting in her eyes. Her face blazes when he reaches to wipe them away tenderly with a calloused hand, careful and with a lenity that she’s always known was there, hidden under the surface.

She could just stare at him for hours, she thinks as he lowers his hand. He’s still looking down at her with one of the softest expressions she has ever seen him wear. She really hopes she’s not dreaming.

It’s tremendously hard to get it together, but she tries, because she doesn’t want to spend the entire time crying, not when he's finally back. There are so many questions she’d like to ask him that she’s finding it a challenge to pick one with which to lead.

He surprises her by speaking first, quietly. “I… had something made for you.”

It takes a moment for the words to compute.

Made for me?

Her processing speed must be exceptionally slow, stuck in the utter mush her insides have become, because he adds, “...For your birthday.”

Sakura blinks, and furrows her brows in confusion. “Made… for me?”

He nods. “...I’m sorry it’s late.” The way he speaks it is cryptic, like the apology weighs more than one needed for a tardy gift. Doesn’t he know she doesn’t care? He could have showed up in July with something for her, and it still would have made her knees weak and her heart thump furiously in her chest.

Made for me? She’s still stuck on that sentiment as he breaks eye contact and turns to rummage through his satchel, beneath his cloak.

Sasuke pulls out a medium-sized flat box, a simple white, and she doesn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t that. Something that comes in a box is a lot more formal than a pressed cherry blossom, something more… permanent.

She reaches out to take it on autopilot, and is stupidly distracted by the way his hand brushes against hers, a small spark that makes something in her quake. She wonders if he felt it, too.

Sakura clutches the box with both hands like her life depends on it, murmuring softly, “Thank you, Sasuke-kun.” She’ll wait until later to open it, after he’s left; whatever it is, she doesn’t want to embarrass him, and she also isn’t sure she can tear her eyes away from him just yet, anyways.

Is it just the lighting in her office, or are his ears a little flushed? She didn’t notice that before; maybe he’s had a drawn-out journey back. She wonders how much ground he covered today, if he’s still winded. He might need to rest.

But then he mumbles, voice husky with what she assumes is disuse, “...You should open it.”

His words echo in her head again. I… had something made for you.

“Okay,” she answers in a hushed voice, so she doesn’t scare him away, shifting slightly to set the box on her desk carefully. Suddenly she is very nervous, anticipation settling into her gut.

When she lifts the lid, she swears her heart ceases beating.

The most exquisitely intricate uchiwa fan she has ever laid eyes upon is placed in the box before her.

It’s carved into a likeness of a cherry blossom tree, branches twisting lissomely into bamboo framework, impossibly fine. A different set of words is reverberating in her head now.

You should try to enjoy your namesake more this year, Forehead. You're so busy that I'm not sure you've realized, but you've really grown into it.

Made for me?

“O-oh.” Sakura is not sure what she expected, but it wasn’t this. She fights back the tears, biting her lip and wide eyes soaking it all in, enjoying her namesake in a way that is entirely unprecedented in its sheer severity. The amount of time it would have taken for someone to sculpt and bind and sew is unimaginable; every detail is finely wrought, flawless down to the silk and stitching, lacquered and carved pale wood shifting effortlessly into eighty slivers of bamboo, intricately webbing silk together with the lithe grace of gossamer. It’s a cherry blossom tree, petals and all, pearlescent thread shifting slightly, gorgeously in the light, unimaginable detail. She has stitched people back together countless times over the course of years, but even her expert dexterity would look like a child’s first embroidery stitching in comparison. The stamen within the petals are nearly more detailed and finely milled than an actual, real life cherry blossom, plexure sutured in a fashion so baronial that it’s impossible to believe human hands were even responsible for it.

The silk. Oh, the silk. The color shift bears a striking resemblance to the Uchiha insignia. This is not a gift one gives to a teammate.

Oh, she's crying.

This has to be a dream, some kind of paracosm her heart thought up to give her brain the high of a lifetime. Hope burgeons and unfolds in her chest cavity, bleeding into her extremities like the pale pink shifting into red before her eyes. She’s never, ever going to forget this, not even if she lives to be one hundred years old.

Made for me?

She picks it up with disbelieving hands, grasping it more carefully than she’s ever held anything in her entire life, as if she’s going to wake up at any moment and it will dissolve into synapse, lost in the hazy juncture of morning the way one tends to lose awareness of the contents of a dream upon coming to lucidity. To her absolute bewilderment, it stays solid in her hands, a finery made even more unbelievable by touch. The grooves of the carving are as gentle as his hand had been on hers earlier. She thinks it would have had to be commissioned at least a few months in advance, outlandishly expensive. She’s never seen silk like this. She doesn't know; she's smart, but she's no artisan. Maybe she should ask Sai. She's crying.

She adores it.

Tears won’t stop welling in her eyes; she thinks they may be escaping from a tender spot inside her chest that’s been reserved for him since she was a child, a leak in a metaphorical dam. She takes a steadying breath, blinks, almost has them conquered. Get a grip, Sakura.

Then Sasuke’s hand is on hers, gently turning the handle over.

Her name is carved into the pale wood, on the back in formal calligraphy, Sakura daintier and more perfect than she could ever write it, as if it had just been uncovered in one of the inner layers rather than whittled there manually. Sasuke presses her fingers to it before loosening his grip, and in that second it feels as though his lost hand is in the wood, caressing her from split atoms in the grooves from the other side.

The tears spill over her cheeks - she admits defeat - intricacy of the entire thing blurring out of focus but still somehow burned into her retinas for all eternity.

Made for me, made for me, made for me-

Her voice finds her after a few more tears fall. “It’s beautiful.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, overwhelmed with complete and utter awe, trying desperately to choke down a sob. “Thank you, Sasuke-kun. I… I’ll treasure it. Always.” She cradles the fan closer to her chest, her heart - maybe An Introduction to Electrocardiography wasn’t a poorly-chosen book, after all; there is much to be read from something this precious - and regards him with watery eyes. She wishes she wasn’t crying; the distortion of the tears is making it hard to see the silver she’s loved and missed so much.

His hand lifts to her face after a moment, and to her surprise, he wipes away her tears again. She barely catches the something-more in his eyes, then, through the waterworks, precious metal flashing and pouring into the words scarred into her ventricles to live there forever, fortified in silver, but he is looking at her so -

“...Always,” he agrees, voice a little breathless, sparking scintilla near hypnotizing her in their luster, and he seems so happy -

Then he leans down to press his lips gently to hers, and this is better than her heart stopping, like when she opened the box. This time, her heart soars, and she touches a star she’s been dreaming of for eons.

[worldoffanfiction2021]

{Image Sources: Dong Hua: https://daydaynews.cc/en/entertainment/419895.html Fengjiu: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/1196337391276429/}

The family of three deities had bid adieu to their relatives in Quingqui and taken the magical boat to Bihai Cangling. Dijun and Fengjiu had both managed to handle their respective duties and arranged for messengers to visit them here at their new place of residence, actually their real home, for the next few months. They were all very excited about it.

Fengjiu was remembering their last visit fondly. The last time she had been here, she had spent some magical time with Dijun.

Dijun was also remembering his last visit. But there wasn’t any fondness in those memories for him. He had been there was to build the Star Light ward. He had not expected to come back alive to this place, much less to come back alive with his wife and son. He looked at Xiaobai and marveled at her. It had been her who had saved him and saved his home. She was the best. He lovingly played with her hair.

Gungun saw that they were about to reach to a beautiful landscape, the likes of which he had never seen. “Father, your home is so beautiful. It’s even better than the Sky Kingdom!”, he exclaimed clapping excitedly.

“Gungun’s reaction to Bihai Cangling is just like yours when you came here for the first time.”, said Dijun smilingly to Xiaobai. "It's your home too, Gungun. It’s our home.", he added. He liked the sound of that very much.

Xiaobai noticed that a lot had changed since she had last visited. Row of fruit trees and vines had been planted - grapefruits, pears and grapes. There was a long corridor with an artificial hill. The hill really looked like a real rocky mountain, just smaller than a mountain. On either side of the corridor there were beautiful trees of foiling flowers. Spiritual birds danced to ‘paying homage to the Phoenix’ near by.

Then there was a pavilion overlooking a lotus pond. White and pink lotuses swayed gracefully in a cool breeze there. White sandalwood on each side of the pavilion gave the seating area a perfect cover from sun.

Xiaobai recalled her own words from the last time she had visited. Dijun had done everything she had asked for. She was transfixed.

When they walked a little further, her jaw dropped to the floor. Sitting atop a slightly raised platform was a house. Not just any house - the bamboo house she had drawn! Oh, Dijun!!!! She stood dumbfounded with tears in her eyes.

Dijun realized she had stopped walking and turned around. When he saw her face he asked with worry, “What’s wrong? Did I mess it up?” Forgetting about Gungun watching them, she ran forward and hugged him. She buried herself in his arms and said, “No, Dijun. No mess up. This is perfect. You made our home. Our home!” She choked on her emotions and couldn’t say anything else. Dijun smiled and planted a kiss on her head.

Gungun was watching all this and came running. “Mother and Father are kissing again. I want a kiss too.”, he giggled. Dijun picked him up and twirled him high. His giggles and Dijun’s laughter filled the space. And Xiaobai’s heart. They were home.

When they went inside, Xiaobai realized that all the basic things they had planned for, had been done. There was a study, a living room and a well-lit, well ventilated kitchen. The large kitchen window overlooked the fruit trees. There were two identical rooms - one for Gungun and another for his little brother/ sister, as Dijun explained, his eyes hinting mischievously. It made Gungun very excited to think that he would have a playmate. Then there were a couple guest rooms. Dijun and Xiaobai’s  room was a spacious suite with a large bed. A foiling flower tree was the headboard of that bed. They even had a nice little hot spring next to their room.

“Dijun, the house is great, but there’s still work to do. We have to set up the kitchen, the wardrobes and such.”, began Xiaobai. “If I do everything, what will you do?”, he interrupted her, pretending to be arrogant and tapped her forehead. Then he leaned in and whispered in her ears “But I have already done so much work here. You owe me big this time.  I will collect my dues from you at night.” Seeing her cheeks instantly color up pleased him.

There was a balcony behind their room. It overlooked a large playground with targets set up for practicing archery, an open space for sword plays and martial arts. On one side was another building. “That is a workshop where we can forge weapons. I have also placed all the weapons I have made or collected in a room in there. I am sure you will like it.”, said Dijun. She looked at him with pride in her eyes. Dijun felt that all his efforts had been completely worth it.

“I am so hungry, mother. When can we eat?”, asked Gungun. “You and Father can put your things in your rooms. I will quickly get food ready.”, said Xiaobai patting him. They all went their separate directions and got busy.

After some time they all got together in the dining room and ate a simple but delicious meal. Fengjiu had found that right next to the kitchen was a vegetable and herb garden. She had picked some fresh veggies to prepare rice porridge and mushrooms-vegetables stir fry. Some lentil cakes rounded up the meal. She had always been good in cooking. Her years in mortal realm had helped her perfect  the art of making do with whatever was available.

After they cleared up all the food, Fengjiu wanted to go to her room and take a nap. But Dijun insisted they go to the lotus pond and catch some fish. She almost suspected that he wanted to keep her away from their bedroom. “May be he has made a mess in there with all the stuff. I better not go in there or else I will end up cleaning everything myself.”, she thought to herself as she followed her guys to the pond. When they got there, she rested her head in Dijun’s lap and dozed off happily.

She woke up a little while later when tiny hands were trying to tap on her head. "Mom, wake up! Look I caught a fish!! My first ever fish!!!", Gungun was showing off with eyes wide with excitement. She couldn't help by smile at him. "I will make sweet and sour fish for dinner tonight with this. You both like it, don't you?" She said. Two heads full of silver hair nodded in fervent agreement. "Like father - like son", she chuckled.

She completely lost herself in cooking dinner. In addition to sweet and sour fish, she also made sticky rice and soup. "For Dijun and Gungun. They need this nourishment.", she told herself. All this was gobbled up pretty quickly between the three of them.

After dinner they took off for a long walk that led them back to the weapon forge. Dijun took them in and Fengjiu was like a kid in the candy store. She enjoyed designing and creating mechanical weapons. Among other things, this was something she and Dijun had in common. Gungun was quite curious and looked around with amazement. But he was slowly beginning to get tired and needed to get to bed. So they all returned homewards.

"You take him to his room and get him ready for bed. I will bring him a glass of milk. He will sleep well with that.", said Dijun. Fengjiu nodded and walked away holding Gungun's little hand. In his room, she helped him bathe and change. They both were happy they didn't need to dye his hair anymore. As she was settling him in his bed, Dijun came in with a glass on milk in his hand. He made sure Gungun finished it up. Then they both dimmed the candles, kissed Gungun sweet dreams and left the room.

When they reached the doorstep of their bedroom, Dijun gestured Fengjiu to stop. "What's wrong?", asked Fengjiu puzzled. "Close your eyes.", ordered Dijun. "Why should I?", replied Fengjiu more puzzled. "Please, Xiaobai. Do as you are told.", Dijun coaxed her. So she sighed and closed her eyes. "You are acting very weird tonight.", she said.

She found herself being lifted in his arms. She felt the door opening and he walking in with her.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Feng Jiu asked. "Not yet, just a little bit longer.", Dijun replied. She could feel the smile in his voice.

"What's going on? I am opening my eyes now." She nagged him anxiously as she felt herself being lowered on something extremely soft.

"Wait. Just a few more moments.", Dijun replied as he adjusted her clothes. "Okay, you can open your eyes now.", he said.

She was so not ready for what she was seeing. The room had been transformed. It looked like a bride's chamber on a wedding night. There was an altar placed for heaven worship ceremony. Gold, white and purple lanterns adorned the ceiling. Matching candles, flower arrangements and curtains hung everywhere. Every seat in the room and the whole bed was covered in foiling flower petals. She was draped in her wedding gown. And then as she turned towards Dijun she saw that he himself was looking extremely handsome in his wedding attire. Nothing in the room was nearly as mesmerizing as the sight of the regal man himself. He took her breath away and she could not help but stare at him open mouthed.

"I never gave you a proper wedding. I have regretted that very much.", he said huskily as he walked towards her with a purple veil. "Tonight, let's get married, Xiaobai.", he said softly as he came close and arranged the veil over her hair. She didn't know what to say or do. She was completely under his spell.

He led her by her hand towards the altar. They kowtowed to the heaven and earth. They remembered her parents and kowtowed for them. Then they bowed to each other. Very carefully he lifted her veil and took her hands in his.

"In all three eternities you are the only one who has moved my heart, Xiaobai. You, little fox, will always belong to me.", he looked deeply into her eyes and promised possessively.

She smiled with stars in her eyes and promised him back, "In any eternity I will bring you in my life. Because I love you the most Dijun, you will always belong to me."

He leaned in and planted kisses on her face. He kissed her hair, her forehead, her eyes, her nose and then covered her lips with his. He felt her respond to him and deepened the kiss. She trembled and moved closer in his arms. Slowly he moved to her ear. "Ever since I have had this dress made for you, I have imagined so many ways I would like to undress you from it.", he teased huskily. "Um? So you got this elaborate and extravagant dress made only so that you could undress me from it?", she asked pulling back and squinting her eyes at him. "HHmm.. ", he pursed his lips and nodded solemnly. "You are so... ", she started to say, but completely lost her train of thought under his hot, hungry gaze. He claimed her lips again and started undressing her.

[capsized-heart]

Sky Castles

Pairing: Laurie x Reader, Jo x Reader

Summary: Summer has always been your favorite season in Plumfield. Perhaps it’s the lovely, sunny mornings and cool, calm nights, or perhaps it’s the fact that you and Laurie and Jo are practically inseparable in midsummer. 

Follows the summers from childhood into young adulthood, with turmoils of the heart along the way.   

Word count: 6.1k+

Warnings: fluff!!!!!!!!

A/N: hi, everyone. I hope you’re all staying safe and well! Right off the bat, I want to mention that I’ve pinned a post on both this blog and my main blog @sarapii-peachy​ about resources for the BLM movement to raise awareness and petitions you can sign to help make a difference on a smaller scale. Everything counts!

i’m back and now with a bachelor’s degree :’) class of 2020 high school and college esketit!!! we did it!!! in this historic pandemic!!! Sorry I’ve been gone for a bit, this fic has been my rocky transition/attempt out of writer’s block after my INSANE last semester of uni and with all the craziness going on in the world. I hope you can channel and take in some of this innocent happiness and childhood glee into your own lives as we navigate the shitshow that is 2020. Saoirse x Timmy x Reader here to cure me of my depression lmao

this title is also based off a chapter in the Little Women book where Laurie, Jo, and the girls go to a park and gaze at the passing clouds and talk about their futures...it’s honestly really sweet. Loosely based off of that! 

Comments and feedback would be greatly appreciated on this💛! Not that you guys don’t leave love, but this fic like I mentioned is my attempt at kicking writer’s block in the ass, please let me know how I did! :) talk to me I missed you guys :)

tags: @ravenmoore14 @monikakrasnorada @dangertoozmanykids101 @toozmanykids​ @adawn1970​ @mrchalamet-mrstyles @chavezlikesthings @loveylangdon@daygiowvibe @statisticlytimmy @ceexreverse​ @bamposworld​ @lilttletimmy​ @cindere-llaaa​

gif credit to @sheisraging​

You love New England for its rich, distinct seasons, how they each paint the countryside in eloquent sweeps of shade and hue. Snow, sun, and breathtaking landscapes of fall color that tinge the treetops throughout the year. You love Plumfield, Massachusetts more for the warmth and love the March sisters have shown you, each alike in personality, nature, to the equinoxes that have shaped your girlhood, each tender memory from your youth synonymous with Meg, Amy, Beth, and Jo. 

 Autumn. Cozy and comfortable, where motherly Meg showed you how to heat and dip caramel with the apples you’d carefully picked from the orchard for a rare treat, the kitchen swirling with the aroma of cinnamon, nutmeg, turmeric, and spices that left you feeling aglow. She’d taught you how to use an embroidery hoop, how to let dough rise, how to bake a proper pie and how to fix any clothing tear with a simple needle and thread, her compliments quick for your ever growing domestic talents. 

Winter. Like cool, ambitious Amy with her painting and taste for luxury and pleasure, how she would praise you for being the only subject suitable for her artwork. Laurie would moan and complain about sitting for hours by the fireside, begging to be excused to go play in the snow, but never you. Amy called you her muse, arranging your hair and skirts to her liking, softening your lips and cheeks with a touch of rouge. It was always such fun to make a day out of modeling for Amy’s portraits, talking and laughing as she’d set up her paints.

Spring. Sweet and angelic like little Beth, windows wide open as her piano trills would float on the warm air, curtains ruffling in the breeze. You’d sit beside her on the piano bench and turn her sheet music for her, to which Beth would give you a shy, rosy smile in thanks. She taught you how to play Chopin and Tchaikovsky, duet pieces where you’d accompany her on the keys, harmonizing with chords and your fingers flying easily together.

Summer. Your favorite season, refreshing, bright, where you and Jo would spend balmy days and long, cool evenings tucked beneath the shade of tree trunks and willows as you’d read in the sun, listen to Jo’s carefully crafted stories. Her creativity and imagination never failed to amaze you, how her writing could transport you to the farthest countries, or keep you grounded in whatever fantastical setting she’d constructed for herself. She’d often write about the two of you; two young girls, best friends who’d have all sorts of dazzling adventures exploring the corners of the world, without the taxing responsibilities of chores, or schoolwork, or the foreboding, inevitable reality that one day you will be young adults and childhood would be gone forever. You’d have picnics and excursions to the nearby fields, dozing in the sun and picking wildflowers, splashing and wading through the rivers and creeks when the heat became unbearable. Before Laurie would come and spoil your fun, of course. Then, you and Jo and Laurie would be like three rowdy boys playing in the woods, your laughter echoing off the trees and sparkling waters. 

You first meet Theodore Laurence as a young girl in the fields connecting the March’s property and your own. You live just down the road from the March sisters, your house tucked away beyond the bend and you’d make the trek across the meadow and grasses daily to visit your neighbors. Being an only child with your father off fighting for the Union, the March house was like your second home and the girls and Marmee and Hannah always made you feel like part of the family, your own loneliness long forgotten as soon as you’d step through the door and you’d be welcomed back with laughter, squeals, and embraces.

Today, you are seeking the company of your friends as usual, returning a book Jo had lended you with a basketful of scones you’d baked in repayment. A recipe you’d learned from Meg. The autumn air is surprisingly warm against your skin, indian summer, flushed and golden and dappling the plains. It makes you smile softly, your mood pleasant as you gather your skirts in time with your step, adjust your basket. 

Then, you see him. A boy making his way in the same direction, dressed smartly in a black woolen coat and matching trousers, a silk scarf tastefully tied around his throat. His curls are windswept and tousled, his gait relaxed. He feels your gaze and looks up, eyes finding yours and the corner of his mouth ticks up in a friendly smile. Warmth floods your cheeks. You quickly duck your head.

He looks to be your age, but you’ve read tales of highwaymen and bandits roaming the countryside, how they’d feign kindness, only to strike unsuspecting travelers. Perhaps it was the work of Jo’s overactive and contagious imagination playing at your nerves, but why was he heading towards the March’s? You think of little Beth, how boys and newcomers made her nervous, timid. Your resolve hardens protectively. You have to keep this stranger away from the girls. 

Your pulse hammers in your throat as you lift your head to see the boy still looking your way. He waves his hand in greeting. 

“Hello!” he cheers. 

With your eyes still locked, you pick up your pace and keep your silence. Curiously, the boy finds this amusing, laughing, making it into a game as he too begins to walk briskly towards the house, of who will reach the door first. You narrow your eyes, summoning as much hostility and wickedness to your expression, demeanor as you can muster. The two of you are running now, his grin wide and eager, your own mouth twisted with hard concentration as you race each other.

Your chest is heaving when you brace yourself against the doorframe, blocking his way with your arm, back against the wood. He’s not a second behind you and is already on the stoop when you turn to face him.

“Are you Jo’s friend?” the boy asks you with a breathless, easy smile. “You’re quite fast, even faster than her.” He adds. He’s practically bouncing on his feet, jovial and buzzing with energy. The mention of Jo’s name curbs your distrust further. Bandit may now be off the table, and the thought makes you feel a bit foolish now, but how could Jo befriend such a strange boy without you knowing? How did he already seem to know who you are? 

Up close, you notice his eyes are green and mischievous, reflecting back the shimmering plains in flecks of amber as he gazes at you, your pulse fluttering ever so slightly…

You scold yourself internally. 

Handsome or not, he was undoubtedly a boy of trouble who had somehow won over Jo’s attention. And no easy feat, might you add. Headstrong and resolute, Jo’s circle of friends was quite small outside of you and her sisters, and you liked it that way. You’d like to keep it that way as well. 

You feel a sharp, ugly pang of jealousy curl in your stomach. You stick out your lower lip in a pout, turn up your nose in a way that would certainly earn a scolding from Marmee if she were to see your impoliteness. 

“Who are you to ask?” You snap.

Your words do not take the desired effect on him. Instead of hurt, or embarrassment, the boy smirks at you, amused. He cocks his head to one side and leans back on his heels, studying you like you’d just asked him why the sky is blue. His mood is breezy, amiable. 

“I’m Laurie. Is that better?” he offers with a comical pout of his own. You wrinkle your nose. This boy was starting to irritate you more and more.

“Surname?”

“Laurence.”

“Laurie Laurence? My, how silly and dull.”

He laughs, a low and pleasant sound that threatens to melt your angry facade. He shakes his head, hands in his pockets. 

“It’s a pet name. Jo calls me Teddy, but you may call me whichever you like,” he says. Your jealousy burns brighter, flushing your skin, twisting together with a hint of desire and yearning. 

You were once Jo’s everything, her favorite companion. She made this clear with how she’d tell you plainly, how she’d spoil you with compliments and stories and affection. And now, it seemed Jo knew another, this Laurie, well enough to call him Teddy when you had no pet name of your own. She seemed to speak of you, which would explain Laurie’s cordiality, but did she tell him how you were the only one she felt comfortable enough with to critique her writing? How she would encourage your aspirations of becoming a dancer by arranging the foyer into a stage and cheering for you while sitting atop the staircase like an admirer in the box seats? How the two of you could jest and play for hours with nothing but your imagination, crying from laughter until your bellies ached?

You feel a sense of betrayal and heartache at this, an intrusion, a tirade of emotions you can’t quite explain. Did you want Jo all for yourself? Did you want to befriend Laurie as well? Did you just want to be someone’s everything again and to be doted on and loved? 

Then, Laurie’s voice tapers into a quiet hum, a touch of softness. You hear the first indication of bashfulness as he looks down at you through full, dark lashes. “I hope the three of us can be good friends. I’d like to know you as well.” He murmurs. 

You don’t know what to think of him. Your chest feels tight and your cheeks burn, from anger or passion you can’t quite tell. You’re contemplating leaving your basket on the doorstep and shoving past him to go back home when you suddenly hear a clamor of voices and the turning of the knob and then the door falls open behind you. 

Laurie catches you before you can tumble through the entryway, hands finding your waist. Jo, vibrant and chipper as ever, lights up when she sees you and her sky blue eyes shine like glass. She has her cap fitted over her wavy blonde curls, skipping into your arms and for a moment you’re sandwiched between the two of them. You flush scarlet. 

“Oh, good! You two have met. Goodbye, Marmee! I’m going out!” Jo calls into the house, her voice overlapping with her sisters’ as they all greet you in a burst of chaos. But before Jo can usher you outside, you feel your childish temper flare and you squirm out of her reach and back through the open door and into the house. You set your basket onto the table, turning to hide your face in Amy’s shoulder with a flutter of your skirts as you feel the hot sting of tears prickle your eyes. You weren’t going to let this Laurie boy see you cry upon your first encounter.

“I’m not coming.” You mumble. Amy’s hand comes to soothingly pet back your hair with a hush of surprise and you sense her look to Jo with a characteristic glare.

“Jo, what have you done?” Amy presses.

“I’ve done nothing!” Jo retorts with a huff. Then, her voice turns gentle, curious as she speaks to you. “Dear, what’s the matter?”

“She wouldn’t be on the verge of tears if you hadn’t done nothing, would she?” Amy replies. You laugh weakly, tightening your arms around her. “See?” Amy says. “You’ve broken her heart, the poor thing.” 

“Jo’s made new friends,” you sniffle, embarrassed when Laurie’s eyes meet yours. Amy’s arms around you make you feel comforted and safe, brave enough to voice your true burdens when you say, “I’ve been replaced,” and gaze back at Laurie in defiance, protest. He frowns and shifts his weight, looking genuinely sorry with a guilt that touches his eyes. Good, you think. Let him think twice before stealing away your best companion. 

At this, Jo’s expression softens with understanding and warmth as she sees you curl into Amy once more. Jo takes a step into the open doorway, leaving Laurie on the stoop.

“No one could ever replace you, dear,” she says. “I only keep Laurie around for when I’m bored and you aren’t around to play. Look at him,” she gestures in his direction. “He’s aloof and vain, he’s lazy, he doesn’t have an ounce of the imagination you do-” 

“Don’t forget arrogant.” Amy pipes up.

Jo nods, wagging a finger at her sister. “Right you are, Amy. We mustn't forget that.”

Laurie starts to puff up with a temper, his lips twisting together and you can see him struggling with whether to speak up and defend himself, or let the girls have their fun for your sake. Jo goes on, saying he was devious and too pretty for his own good, making you and Amy giggle as she rubs soothing circles into your back. It’s rather polite and charming as you watch Laurie suffer silently, biting his tongue as Jo continues to defame his character before she finally turns back to you.

“I should have introduced the two of you properly, and for that, I’m sorry,” says Jo. “You must have had quite the surprise running into him.” Laurie again glances to you with an apologetic softness, wringing his hands together. “So, what do you think, Teddy? Are we ready to start afresh?” Jo asks him, hands on her hips.��

This makes you laugh, bubbly, your mood perking up as you finally lift your head from Amy’s shoulder. Of course, Jo would be able to comprehend your grievances and somehow peg Laurie with the blame, how she knew your heart was delicate and tender and so full of devotion that you were quick to hold grudges. Your envy dissipates and you feel a bit sorry seeing Laurie now in such low spirits, his theatrical demeanor now quiet and modest. 

“If she’ll have me,” Laurie murmurs, glancing up at you with such a pureness in his glittering eyes that regret starts to settle in your stomach.

“And I’ve written more of that story you enjoyed so much,” Jo holds out a hand to you. “Won’t you come hear what happens next?” she asks. Slowly, like the pull of a magnet, you untangle yourself from Amy’s arms and cross the room to take Jo’s outstretched hand. 

“Alright.” You say at last. Jo beams and cradles your face with her other hand, swiping away your tears with her thumb. You let her baby you like she would with Beth, enjoying her touch against your cheek. 

“That’s my sweet girl.” She smiles.

You then look to a sheepish Laurie and extend a hand, filled with new courage. You tell him your name and echo back his words that you hope the three of you can indeed become good friends, that you and Jo could do well with another acquaintance. The smile Laurie gives you is genuine, sweet and gentle, the corner of his mouth turning up in crooked delight. He clasps your hand warmly.

“I would want nothing more.” Laurie laughs. 

And with that, nestled between Jo and Laurie, you step back outside into the rich and golden light of a warm autumn afternoon, curious, excited for what adventures the day will bring you. 

**

Laurie joins your duo swimmingly and the rest of the year passes in pleasant tranquility as the three of you spend nearly every waking moment by each others’ sides. All Hallow’s Eve finds you dressed in a costume of French royalty, a pompous and comical gown of ballooning fabrics, complete with a powdered wig of pins and curls. You’ve painted your face with overlined lips and the trademark mole below your eye and the March sisters double over with laughter as you enter the foyer, fluttering your paper fan with an aristocratic pout, Laurie saluting your entrance with a roar of, la plus belle fille du monde! Jo is dressed as a fearsome pirate, outfitted in boots, breeches, and a captain’s hat, the wooden sword you and Laurie helped to paint swishing through the air as she parades into the room. Laurie enters last with a bang and a flash of white powder, appearing before your eyes in true magician fashion with a top hat and cane, a false mustache pasted onto his upper lip. All six of you then march across the field to the Laurence residence, now alight with carved pumpkins and lanterns, for your All Hallow’s Eve party of sweets and games.

Christmas brings festivities, flurries, and cheer. Sledding, ice skating, days of cold and winter fun making snow angels and snowmen, decorating the March house with holly, mistletoe, culminating into a hearty turkey dinner as you sit perched next to Laurie. The candlelight is homely, the sound of laughter and clinking silverware washing over you and you catch Laurie’s eye as he lifts his fork to his mouth. The two of you grin, leaning into each other with quiet happiness, heads bowed. You and Laurie both mirror each other in being only children, meaning these times together have been filled with welcome camaraderie. Where your instances of yearning for the companionship of siblings that only those without can understand, you’ve found company in each other, never a dull moment, never lonely. 

The thaw of spring keeps you tucked away indoors with torrents of rain pelting against the roof. Jo reads to you aloud from her novel, asking for your thoughts every so often as you and Laurie lounge on the sofa. When you articulate a point of slight critique on Jo’s use of character, Laurie teasingly tugs on a lock of your hair with a smirk. 

“How perceptive.” He murmurs, grinning.

You swat his hand away, glaring at him in mock anger. 

And as the days grow warmer, so does your heart. You’ve learned to share your affection between Laurie and Jo in a way you think is equally matched and that autumn day where you’d been so sour to both of them seems like ages ago. Soon after that incident, your bravado had quickly morphed into appreciation and Jo had been eager to break the ice between you and Laurie. And like all children, your differences and jealousy had been set aside as you’d discovered he was quite fun to be around. Laurie shared Jo’s quick wit and intelligence, like an androgynous mirror, so much of yourself also reflected in both of them in time and they in you. And yet, Laurie had a certain charm about him; how he could have the two of you in stitches and still maintain the air of sophistication that was so often expected of the Laurence boy. Admittedly, you were thrilled to have them both as your best and favorite playmates. 

In turn, they had done the same, showering you with loving attention and teasing, keeping you entertained with their bickering, quarreling over how they both wanted to occupy your time with their respective ideas for sport. Fighting over you. The thought of it makes you blush furiously. Yet, you feel cared for, like the most precious thing in their lives.You’ve also selfishly enjoyed being the apple of their eye and all the privileges that has bestowed; Jo writing you into her stories, featuring you as a beautiful sugar plum fairy, and Laurie promising to write you a French ballet, to someday whisk you off to Europe to experience high art and culture. 

At last, spring turns to summer and the three of you are back to mischief and horseplay in the great outdoors. The days are lush, agreeable, bright and pleasant with flashing sunshine and lofty clouds. You’re again reminded why summer to you is synonymous with Jo as you run together through the waving fields bursting with flowers, Laurie right on your heels as he too gives chase. 

“Jo! We were only kidding about the toads!” Laurie calls out from behind you. “It’s not like I have one in my pocket this very moment who’s squirming to get free and might have bitten me earlier when I caught him by the river and-”

He gives a shout of surprise and you hear his footfalls pause in the grasses. You and Jo both turn, breathless, already laughing when you see Laurie hopping about like hot coals are burning beneath his feet.

A small pond frog wiggles out of his pocket seam with a croak and then disappears into the meadow, waddling with great speed. With out-turned pockets and wrinkled trousers, Laurie stands there with his hands on his hips, confidence and humor masking his faults as always.

“My, they grow up so fast, don’t they?” Laurie says as he looks out over the crest of the hill with a humorous glint in his eyes, like a mother watching her child leave for the vast, cruel world. You and Jo collapse into a fit of giggles, holding each other upright by the shoulders and gasping for air.

**

Eternal summer and sun, a tender paradise. And as midsummer arrives, so does the heat. It’s stifling, heavy, the kind that suffocates and forbids any excessive movement or play, when being idle is perfectly acceptable, a rarity for you three young adventurers. Today, even nature herself seems to be drowsy from the stifling weather. Sunflowers droop from the weight of honeybees as they float lazily over the fields. Birds chortle from the treetops, as if too tired to fly, their song intertwining with the rustling grasses, tousled by the rare cool breeze. The sky burns a dome of brilliant blue above you, filled with towering, cotton white cumulus clouds. You watch as they drift slowly over the horizon. Like colossal ships at sea. 

You rest your head on Laurie’s chest and he toys with your hair. Jo dozes with her arms pillowed across your stomach and the three of you are a sleepy dog-pile of limbs. The feel of Laurie’s fingers makes you relaxed, drowsy. You hear Jo then give a soft snore and you chuckle.

“What is it?” Laurie asks. You can already hear the smile in his voice, how just your laughter is enough to amuse him too. You shake your head against his chest and the movement makes you giggle again. Laurie joins you, flopping out his legs, the heat making you both delirious and loopy.

You reach up blindly and give him a firm nudge, your hand landing just under his chin.

“Stop it, you’ll wake her.” You scold him with as much seriousness as you can muster and failing miserably. 

“Ow,” Laurie groans. He grasps your wrist, moving your hand to place it against his cheek and he puckers out his lower lip. “You’ve hurt me, I’m unwell.”

“Oh...Laurie, I didn’t mean it..” you sit up and coo, caressing his skin. Laurie looks pleased, a flash of playfulness in the green of his eyes as you lean towards him. “Let me take a closer-” 

You cuff him on the ear ever so lightly, catching him by complete surprise and Jo wakes, cackling, throwing her arms around you. 

Later, the three of you gaze up at the passing clouds, a comfortable silence settling over you all as you enjoy the afternoon.

“If we could fly up into those clouds and there was a castle with anything your heart desired, what would it be?” Jo asks. “Where do you two see your lives leading you?” Her tone is pensive, romantic. You and Laurie both hum in thought. 

“You first, Laurie.” You murmur. 

Laurie turns to look back at the bright blue sky, to the billowy clouds that look like spun sugar candy. 

“I want to live abroad in Europe and be surrounded by music, my music. I want to compose, I want to be renowned for my operas.” He declares with a proud puff of his chest. Jo nods, you give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“That sounds very much like you, Teddy,” Jo says. “A bachelor making art in Europe, how capital.”

He makes a face, then winks at you out of the corner of his eye. You stick out your tongue.

“You can do it if you stay focused,” you add. “No more billiards, for a start.” 

Laurie wrinkles his nose. “And what is it that you want, prima donna?” he asks you in challenge. 

You turn away with a roll of your eyes, gaze to the heavens. The thought comes to you easily as you listen to the birds, feel the breeze tickling your skin, drinking in the sky. 

“I want to be a ballet dancer in a prestigious company. I want to tour the world.” You say softly. Before, you would have felt embarrassment to share such an ambitious dream. But something about this moment, of being with Laurie and Jo makes you feel brave and safe enough to speak your mind, to put your words into the universe and have it come to fruition. Like a magic spell of sorts. With them here with you, you feel like any dream is possible.

Another chorus of hums and Jo looks pleased at your response. Laurie smirks up at the horizon.

“No fair if it’s likely to happen,” he laughs. “That’s cheating.”

“Oh, hush,” Jo chides with a rather hard sock to Laurie’s arm. She ignores his whines as he recoils and grumbles dramatically. “You’re well on your way, dear,” Jo tells you. “Now that you’ll be in that New York production next summer, I’m sure your opportunities will be plentiful.”

You hope she’s right. You’d secured a role as an ensemble dancer in an upcoming production of Romeo and Juliet, your most prestigious show as of yet in your young and budding career. Jo’s warm praise makes you blush like the flowers surrounding you, pink and full. Laurie’s quick eyes catch this, envious, and he changes the subject, a muscle ticking ever so slightly in his jaw. 

“And you, Jo?” He asks tightly. 

Jo exhales, crossing her arms behind her head. “Being a writer, of course. A great one. I don’t want to settle for less.” 

“Doubtful,” snides Laurie. “I don’t see it.”

You and Laurie look to each other with a quiet smile.

“No, not with all the prizes you’ve won,” you add. “Impossible.”

Jo shoots upright, too quickly for the heat. She slugs Laurie again.

“Ow...Jo, it’s too hot for your beatings,” he moans. “Don’t be a poor sport.”

She doesn’t answer him, only gives him a final push and hunkers back down onto the grass, turning her back to him with a huff.

“Why am I the only one that ever gets hit?” Laurie grumbles, opening his shirt to cool himself off and throws his forearm across his eyes for shade, frowning. You giggle, curling up beside her.

“I believe in your abilities, Jo.” You whisper to her. She takes your hand. 

It’s not long before the three of you are fast asleep in the sun. 

**

And as the seasons and summers roll on and the fruits of childhood begin to slowly ripen with the passing years, you find your companionship with Laurie and Jo changing and growing like never before. Your friendship starts to blossom into fondness, adoration. Indeed, you’ve loved them as playmates and companions since the three of you were children, but as you flourish amidst that quaint, strange, and budding pocket of time when young men and women come of age, where you and Laurie and Jo are now struck with bashfulness and an awareness of being alone with each other, your love for them arches and glows like summer sunset. 

This makes you acutely conscious of your appearance and dress, your posture, how you carry yourself, your mannerisms. How did your hair look? Did you laugh too loudly? Would Jo think your comments about her writing were too harsh? Why did you feel such warmth in your chest every time you saw her? And why were you starting to anticipate Laurie’s company? Why did you always have a sharp hope that he would come around with every visit of yours to the March residence? The constant whir of thoughts and worries was enough to make your head turn with heaviness, make you collapse from the pressures of simply existing.

“You’re acting odd,” Laurie tells you one day.

The two of you lay in a meadow with summer buzzing all around you, resting beneath the drooping leaves of a willow tree. Jo had been unable to join you as she had Beth’s lessons to teach that afternoon, much to her own disappointment and promising to make it up to you soon with an affectionate pinch to your cheek. You’d considered going home then. The last thing you wanted was to be left alone with Laurie, that familiar crush in your chest, an inkling of dread coupled with a shortness of breath, fear and excitement. You were terrified. But when he’d taken your hand and asked you so sweetly to accompany him to the meadow’s waters, how could you possibly refuse? 

But of course, Laurie was quick to notice your nerves. 

“The heat is getting to your head,” you say evenly with eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face. “Besides, that’s rather rude.”

You hear him move and feel his presence directly in front of you, as if leaning in.

“It is a bit hot, do you feel up for a swim?”

This makes your eyes snap open. Following Jo’s mannerisms, you give him a shove in the chest. “You’re vile,” you grin. 

To your surprise, Laurie’s teasing, playful demeanor is nowhere to be found. His gaze is instead thoughtful, holding your own like you are all he sees. Immediately, you feel your pulse kick up in the side of your throat.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he continues with a shake of his head. “You don’t seem like yourself. I thought a change in our routine could be refreshing.”

You give a light shrug of your shoulders. “I feel fine,” you say. 

He brushes the back of his hand against your forehead. He hums, then curls his fingers down along the planes of your face to rest on your cheek. 

“You’re flushed,” he murmurs. 

Time seems to slow. The roar of blood deafens your ears and the fragrance of the sweet waters and blooms around you is overwhelming, sunlight refracting like prismed rainbow. Laurie kisses you then, a gentle touch of his lips, tilting your chin up to meet him. A sweetheart’s kiss, one that tastes of summer secrets as you’re shaded by vines and mist. When you break apart, he keeps his hand cradled against your cheek, his thumb circling the corner of your mouth.

You don’t know what to say. You’re speechless, your chest rising and falling softly, staring back at him with wide, surprised eyes. Laurie looks reflective, emerald irises half-lidded.

“What am I to tell Jo?” you whisper to him. Heat diffuses through your body like desert wind. You feel elated, cherished, frightened, embarrassed. Guilty. Laurie’s eyes flicker once more to your lips, his dark lashes fluttering with the movement. His smile is melancholy, yet knowing.

“You love her, too.” Laurie hums. It’s a statement, a confirmation of your feelings for both of them. The fact that the boy you’ve adored for so long has uttered your very thoughts out loud should have you completely mortified, yet there’s a small sense of comfort knowing he’d understand. Laurie knows this because he himself feels the same way, knows you or Jo or himself could never bring themselves to choose.

Laurie’s smile prompts you to lace your fingers together in the grasses and you give him a light peck on the cheek. He brightens up, raking a hand through his black curls. 

“You love me.” Laurie beams.

**

When you tell Jo about the kiss, she’s dancing with you on the porch in the evening light. Inside, you can see Marmee and the girls entertaining themselves through the windows as you practice your pirouettes. Jo is dressed in her writing jacket and trousers, keeping you balanced as she plays the part of the male dancer, perfectly competent. 

“What an impish boy,” Jo says of Laurie. You laugh and the two of you continue your steps, running through the dance number in a private rehearsal. Laurie is due to rehearse with you the week before your performance and the thought itself is enough to make butterflies explode in your stomach. Jo is a strong, leading dancer, while Laurie is graceful and firm, both capable of making the palms of your hands sweat with nerves. You know in your heart if you could rehearse with them, you’d have no fear on opening night. You’d already be invincible.

“Again from the top, please, kind sir,” you curtsey to Jo. Her smile is giddy and she gives a click of her heels before returning to her starting position. 

“Of course,” she responds. Taking your hand, she guides you through the steps once more, your heart soft and temperate like the evening around you.

**

The sound of applause is warm and full, washing over you as you take your bows. You feel weightless, aglow, eyes brimming with tears. You think you see Laurie and Jo leap to their feet in the audience, but the stage lights are too bright and you cannot see clearly and you think you may faint from happiness. 

In the auditorium, you’re still in your costume of Venetian silks and flowers when you’re swept off your feet by a boisterous Laurie and he twirls you around in his arms, his riding cloak billowing out behind him. 

“There’s our Capulet! You were phenomenal!”

“I’m so proud of you, dear!” Jo practically shouts with excitement, tackling you next in a bearish hug when Laurie finally sets you down. Their praise is boundless, endless, showering you in so much adoration that your heart feels close to bursting. You gather them close, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

“Thank you both for everything,” you choke out, squeezing them tight.

Over Jo’s shoulder, you spot Marmee, Meg, Amy, even shy little Beth with a bouquet of flowers and then you let the tears fall when you run to them and you thank your stars for the luck and love you’ve been blessed with.  

**

Another year, another summer soon arrives. You and Jo and Laurie are back in the fields cloud-gazing, a lazy afternoon of heat and leisurely time well spent. Things feel familiar, recognizable between the three of you, yet there’s a sense of distance between now and when Jo had first asked about your castles in the sky all those summers ago. 

 Jo was now making a name for herself in the writer’s world, having won another prize in a New York newspaper. She’d been gaining the attention of devoted readers and critics alike and was now working on a proper novel, her longest project as of yet. She tells you not to worry, that she’ll be sure to feature you as a central character in the same way she’d done as a child, nostalgic tales of pirates and adventure and love.

“My sweet sugar plum fairy,” she’d gruffed, pulling you into another powerful hug.

Laurie had finished his opera, now with aspirations of pulling funds together and opening a production in Europe. He was still in the midst of planning and conversing with his grandfather about finances and departure dates, but it seemed like Laurie’s promise of spiriting you away to Europe could now become a reality. And with the possibility of your very own French stage debut! 

Thus, you three souls were being tugged into three far corners of the globe, to your respective callings. The realization scares you, to know that this may be one of the few times you have left together. But underneath it all, there was a sense of excitement to see the world and make it your own. You were satisfied, proud knowing that the three of you had come so far with your aspirations and you had no doubt you would find success in your art.

In the comfortable silence, serenaded by the hum of cicadas and birdsong, you gaze up to the clouds gliding over Plumfield, Massachusetts. You feel an aching longing for those childhood days of carefree play, the countless rose-tinted memories of Laurie and Jo by your side, yet looking up at the sky, you know these memories of summers past will always be with you. 

And there would be better and more to come. 

[tae-cup]

The Policeman | Night Terrors FINALE

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Summary: The prestigious department of police and investigations in Seoul, Korea, is called to the small town of Cape Springs in rural California. Nothing is quite what it seems here.

Warnings: Blood, violence, you know crime stuff? Fluffy stuff somehow

Genre: Mystery, Crime, Angst, a lil humor, sexual innuendos, language, someone is shot 

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 5.1k Words

A/N: Thank you guys so much for support in this series. You probably saw it coming, but I really enjoyed writing and weaving this story together. From the very beginning, I tried to weave in little clues <3 I’d love to know your thoughts and thank you so much, again, for reading this! This series is sort of my second child, the first is Down With The Ship, and my first stab at writing mystery...so I hope I did it well haha XD 

I love you all thank you!

Beautiful header by the wonderful @dnrequests

Other:

Series Masterlist

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Previous | End 

“Hoseok. When there is a serious threat, it’s you or them.” Namjoon handed him the gun. “Or in this case, them or the victim. What we want to do is disable them. You have one shot.” 

The man held the gun delicately, like a bird that might fly away. 

“I could kill him.” Hoseok said, hesitation in his voice. 

“I trust you won’t.” Namjoon watched him carefully. 

“This gun could kill a man!” Hoseok felt himself shaking. Why why why? He had shot a gun before, but it was never at another person. 

“Or a woman.” Namjoon walked around the barrier. 

“I wish I didn’t have to carry this around.” 

“Mr. Jung, listen to me,” Namjoon shook him slightly and the police officer stilled. 

“Everytime you carry a gun,” He plucked the metal out of his hand and waved it around. “you are prepared to take a life. That’s how it goes. There’s responsibility in your hands. Remember what you said to me, in our interview?” 

“You do what you have to do, that’s part of the job.” Hoseok nodded, reciting his moral code. 

“So do your job.” Namjoon pressed the gun back into his hands. 

“Yes, sir.” 

        Hoseok took a deep breath, assuming a shooting stance, balanced and limber, feet apart, one slightly in front of the other. He looked at the target and shot. Bullseye. 

      He pulled the trigger as naturally as he breathed. 

“I’ll go with you, Namjoon.” You protested, chasing after the taller man. 

“I don’t want your emotions getting in the way of what could very well be a hostage situation.” He argued back, pulling on his coat and holstering his pistol. The others were following along with similar actions. 

“So you’re calling me emotional?” 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

“I can’t believe this. I thought you were beginning to trust me-”

“I trust you, Y/N.” Namjoon turned to face you and you paused. 

      There was a pain in his eyes as he glanced from you to the door. The others were ignoring the confrontation, instead heading out the door as fast as possible. 

“But look at yourself.” His voice was soft and you were reminded of the chief who was shaking in his boots on his first day.

    Namjoon reached out hesitantly and placed a hand on your arm. Your eyes darted from the warmth of his hand to his face. 

“You’re overworking yourself. You look like a mess. Please, take some time to look after yourself.” 

“Hae-won is still a suspect. There are so many signs-” You started, but Namjoon sighed in annoyance. 

“While that may be true, we have to approach this situation with a hostage situation mentality.” He affirmed. 

      The chief moved his hand and you crossed your arms, rubbing your hands over your biceps. The room suddenly felt cold without his hand. You looked to the ground and then back at him, defeat in your eyes. You were sick of fighting with them. You were done. 

“At least tell me where you’re going.” You said softly. 

“Matthew Street 2410. It’s a warehouse or something.” He explained quickly, heading for the door. “We’ll be back soon, Hae-won in hand. Then you can question her all you want.” 

“That’s Yoongi and Taehyung’s job!” you began, but he was already gone. 

        A heavy pit fell into your stomach as you retreated to your lab. The presence was still there and it sent a chill down your spine. Out of habit, you swept your eyes from side to side to check the dark corners of the room. The lights flickered on one by one. You lazily went through the test results, stumbling across the pill test. You frowned at the thin piece of paper. If only I had definitive proof.

       Frustrated with the lack of evidence, you checked over the machine you used again, the one with the scratched lens. Your mind wandered back to the odd encounter you had with Hae-won. She had looked nervous, eyes darting from side to side, rocking back and forth on her heels. She had acted...odd, even for Hae-won standards. Then Jin’s words came back to you. 

       Hae-won didn’t come to talk to us, what are you talking about? The open doors, the strong feeling that someone had been in your lab. You bent down to check over the machine. Something was wrong.

      The wires that should have been hooked up to each other, were now mixed and matched like a poor reconstruction of a rainbow with messed up colors. Could she have...messed with my machine? You bit at your lip, letting out a frustrated noise. 

       You moved to another machine and checked over it to make sure everything was in place. After double checking a thousand times, you prepared the fragments of pill that you had left over. You tapped your foot anxiously and checked your watch. You had an hour.

       Namjoon felt guilty. It was a common feeling among the group, but despite working together for years, their communication skills sucked. The chief was aware that Hae-won had grown on Jungkook and Hoseok and it was probably a shock that any of this was happening, but even he realized that you were correct. All the dots lined up except the eye witness descriptions of a man as the killer. 

“Is this it?” Namjoon tensed. The van pulled into the gravel driveway of the abandoned warehouse. 

“Yup.” Jin murmured as they surveyed the ominous structure. 

“Okay,” Namjoon twisted in his seat to address the boys. 

      He was always nervous in hostage situations. It was his job to get everyone out alive and, hopefully, unharmed. 

“Everyone listen up.” He snapped. 

     The men turned their attention from the old building and to their leader. The car beeped softly as Namjoon unbuckled his seatbelt. He cleared his throat and Jin muttered an apology, shutting off the car. The lights in the car dimmed to black and the chief could just make out the faces of his team. 

“Just like in any hostage situation, we have one chance.” He briefed.

 “Now, Yoongi goes in first, try to reason with the kidnapper. Taehyung stay close behind, but out of sight. Hoseok, have your pistol ready and stay behind me and Jin. Jungkook, remain outside or as close to the outside as possible. Jimin, I need you to be right next to Taehyung in case anything goes wrong. We need someone else who’s a good shot.”

“I’m not a kid.” Jungkook shot up. 

“You’re inexperienced and a real life is in our hands, kookie.” Namjoon said sternly.

      Jungkook went quiet. The chief had come out in Namjoon and everyone knew to shut up. 

“Ready?” Jin breathed. Namjoon gave the slightest of nods and Yoongi slid open the door of the van with a loud thump. 

        The sound of their steps on gravel echoed like thunder in the quiet. The stars were out and the hazy white and gold streak of the milky way painted across the sky. A child breeze ruffled Jimin’s hair. 

       Jimin rested his hand on his pistol, stalking closely next to Taehyung. The two were pressed to the shadows, silently stepping onto the concrete floors of the warehouse. The place would give any sane person the creeps. Good thing that none of them were all too sane. That’s what happened when you investigated the gruesome murders of people. 

       Taehyung’s steps were light and Jimin followed in his footsteps exactly. They hid behind a large steel beam and watched as Yoongi walked in, unarmed and peaceful. The man had always had a calming presence. Hoseok was right outside the door, Jin leaning over his shoulder. Namjoon was next to them and Jungkook was hidden in the treeline, keeping watch. 

“Hae-won?” Yoongi’s gruff voice reverberated around the empty space. 

“I’m here.” Her voice was soft and quiet. 

       Yoongi had a calm exterior, but his heart rate leapt through the roof and thrummed through his body when he saw what was before him. Hae-won stood in the ghostly moonlight, pale as a vampire, and just as menacing looking.

      It was weird how someone so small could have such a large presence and vice versa. His heart jumped into his throat and he found himself choking. There was something so off about the way she was standing, the way she spoke that contrasted the manic look in her eyes. 

      He cursed under his breath for feeling so unnerved by someone he’d spent weeks with. Hoseok swallowed, his eyes searching for Jimin’s gaze to confirm anything, and the look in his younger counterpart’s eyes confirmed the worst. Either she was indeed a hostage, or this was a rouse. And he refused to let it be rouse. It just couldn’t be. 

“I was kidnapped.” She explained calmly. “The murderer took me by the arm and hauled me off in broad daylight. Just goes to show how no one really cares in this town, right?” 

“And where is your kidnapper, Hae-won?” 

“She’s right here.” Hae-won said, her voice breaking off. The words she spoke were insane, but the way she said them was calm, robotic. 

She pointed to her chest, to her heart. “She kidnapped me.” 

“Hae-won, I understand, now, please, we can talk and figure something out if you just come with us.” Yoongi said, trying his best to keep his tone steady. “I know, you’re scared.” 

“I’m not scared.” She scoffed and Yoongi nodded. 

“Okay, you’re not scared. So how are you feeling?”

“I can’t feel much of anything anymore, Yoongi.” She cracked a small smile that only added to her stilted look. 

      His heart thumped and his blood rushed loudly through his ears. 

“I understand-”

“I know you’re all there.” She hurried on, cutting off him. Yoongi let her ramble.

 “Jimin and Taehyung go in, hide, and get ready to shoot or have backup. Hoseok is outside with Namjoon and Jin. Jungkook is hiding in the treeline.” She chuckled darkly. 

“I know everything about you and all your plans. I didn’t do all that work these weeks for nothing.” Hae-won clenched her fists, memories of pale blue dresses and crimson red blood in her mind. 

      Her nails dug into her palms, leaving deep crescent moons. 

“But don’t worry, I’ll be getting the whole gang involved tonight.” 

       The samples crashed to the ground as you held your head in your hands. No no no. The machine had been tampered with, but after you had gotten everything in order, the results had been incriminating to the highest degree. Incriminating who? Hae-won. But honestly, what else did you expect at this point? You had tested the pill three times. 

        Every. Single. One. Read back as positive for rohypnol. Everything was falling into place. The girl’s sketchy behavior, her apprehension. You strode out into the hallway and across to the Investigators’ Nest. Files were stacked neatly, the court case still on the desk. You opened the file to the court proceedings. Two times it mentioned an anonymous testifier, someone who was close to Joo-Eun, the victim. 

       You read it over. The case was under Joo-Eun v.s. Cape Springs. You scanned the page. In the back, there was a newspaper clipping. You held up the old piece of paper to the light. The faded print was hard to see, but if you squinted, you could make it out. 

         It was an interview with Hae-won, dated back to when she would have been graduating high school and right after the murder of Joo-Eun. You sucked in a breath. 

“Hae-won, a best friend to Joo-Eun, testified today in court. ‘I just want justice for my friend.’ She said.” You read softly. 

         You gently placed the clipping back in the folder and left the room. You felt...pity for her. She had lost her best friend, she was hurting. But was that a motivation to kill? You grabbed your car keys and the test results, and left the building, shutting off the lights. You locked up the old station, hoping to never have to solve another crime in that place again. 

        You unlocked your car and got in. You couldn’t even feel pleased about being right in your suspicions, you were simply worried for your coworkers and the men you cared deeply for. It was time to make things right.

       What was he doing here? Jungkook sat outside the office, tapping his foot wildly. His adrenaline was through the roof as he shifted uncomfortably. The man next to him was called inside and he scooted over. He had been waiting for an hour, but the nerves still hadn’t slowed. 

      He glanced at his watch. He really needed this job. The young man gripped his briefcase tightly and then little by little let it go. He let his grip relax and the briefcase fell into his lap with each deep breath. Someone cleared their throat and he looked up, startled. 

       A young woman stood with her hair in a neat bun. 

“Hello, I’m Y/N!” She said cheerily, holding out her hand. 

      He rose quickly, his case clattering to the floor. He internally screamed at himself and clumsily shook her hand before crouching to pick up the case. She seemed amused. 

“I’m Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook.” He nodded. “I’m here for the, uh, achem, interview.” 

“I figured.” She chirped. “Mr. Kim will see you now!” She gently shoved him towards the door. “And don’t worry, Namjoon is actually pretty nice once you get to know him.” She whispered and then shut the door. 

       Jungkook stood awkwardly in the door. Mr. Kim sat in his leather chair, surveying him. The chief then nodded at the seat and gestured. 

“Sit.” He commanded and Jungkook wasn’t one to disobey orders. 

      Once he had settled in, Mr. Kim leaned forward, lacing his fingers together.

 “Now tell me, Mr. Jeon,” God, it felt like he was being interrogated. “Why do you want this position?”

“I would like to get work experience and I’ve always been fascinated with the whole criminal justice and policing system.” He said hurriedly. “And I’ve heard that you’re the, uh, best.” 

“That we are.”Mr. Kim smiled and unlaced his fingers, sitting back to observe the man. “Now, we don’t offer these jobs to just anyone. So tell me, what makes you different?” 

“If you want me to be honest, Mr. Kim,” Jungkook scratched the back of his head. “I’m really not sure. I’m not...all that special.” 

 “Fuck fuck fuck!” You unclipped your seatbelt and raced out the car door. 

      There were loud shouts and your heart sped up. You crept along the side of the building until the entrance was in view. You peered cautiously around the corner. 

      The sight before you was not pretty. Yoongi was shouting at the others to back away and Taehyung stood next to him. Jimin was already retreating while Hoseok and Jin were tugging Jungkook back. Namjoon was trying to shout orders over Yoongi and Hae-won was in the center, cackling like a mad woman. A glistening knife was held to her throat. 

“Shut up!” She shouted, her voice a growl, low and animalistic, unlike anything you had heard from her. 

“If you don’t shut up, I won’t hesitate to slide this over my neck like every single pig I’ve killed in this town.” She chuckled and you could see the wetness of tears on her cheeks. 

“I have nothing to come back to. The town hates me anyway. If Joo-eun couldn’t get retribution, justice, when she should have, then maybe I can give her justice.” She choked. Her hands shook. “I deserve this.” 

“You didn’t even know Joo-Eun, I thought?” Yoongi said calmly, his voice scratchy from yelling. 

“You guys are idiots.” You revealed yourself, your shadow gracing their faces. “She’s her best friend, or should I say was?”

“Keep her name out of your mouth!” Hae-won screeched back, her voice trilling high into hysterics. 

       Her eyes scanned the room wildly. So this was the murderer. A wolf in sheep's clothing. 

“I ran the tests Hae-won. Those aspirin in your medicine cabinet looked off, so I decided to give them a test.” You stepped closer to her. She stiffened, keeping the knife to her throat.

 “Rohypnol.” You declared.

“I won’t deny it, Y/N. You were smart, you always kept your work at such a distance from me.” She laughed, the blade tugged slightly across her neck at the movement. “But good thing these guys trusted me enough. I guess it’s just another example of the system failing people like us.”

“People like us?” You halted your approach. 

“Women, men, people. We, who dare try and go against this system so carefully set up by those around us.” She fixed you with a hard stare. “I mean, haven’t we both been screwed over by the system? Joo-Eun never got justice, you will never see justice.” 

      You went quiet. You could feel the heavy eyes of your coworkers on you. You glanced to the side, meeting eyes with Jungkook. 

“No one believed me. Do you understand what it’s like, to have the town turn their backs on you?!” Hae-won furiously regained your attention. You stepped closer, now only a few feet away. 

“Y/N, step back.” You heard the command of Namjoon. You held up a hand, silencing him. 

“I’m sorry, Hae-won.” You whispered. She went still, her face melting into a look of confusion. 

“What?”

“I said,” You gently brought your hand up and she let you guide her hand away from her throat. 

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And the system has been pretty shit as of late.” You gave Namjoon a pointed glare which he had the decency to look away from. 

“But you can’t hate the world forever.” You sighed and wrapped your arms around her. She was stunned, silent, and unmoving. “Please just come back with us. We’ll make things right.” 

      The tension was palpable. Everyone in the room held their breath. 

“There’s nothing to make right. I have no regrets,” Hae-won breathed in your ear. “And I cannot take back what I have done.” She ripped you away, pulling your back to her chest and lifting the knife to your throat.

         Well, shit. That did not go as planned.

          That was a big problem of yours, rushing into things without a plan. Well, that was really biting you in the ass right now. Instantly, seven guns clicked into place. 

“Go ahead, shoot me. We both go down.” Hae-won smiled, her vice like grip uncharacteristically strong for someone of her stature. “Do you know what it’s like to see your best friend’s corpse?”

“I don’t want to find out.” Hoseok’s voice rang clear and you looked at him.

       You couldn’t find it in yourself to be truly terrified because they wouldn’t let you die, right? After everything you’d been through and you still had undying trust in these boys.

“Put the knife down Hae-won. I won’t say it again.” Taehyung said, his deep rumble ticking your eardrums. 

       Instead, she pressed the knife harder against your jugular and you let out a squeak of distress. You could see Hoseok’s hands shaking, Jimin’s eyes staring coldly into your own, and Yoongi’s sour expression. When you looked at Namjoon, you just saw...fear. That only meant one thing; She was going to do it. You were going to die.

A shot rang out and you saw red.

      Jimin hated fake apologies. It was a thought that he had often, especially when his ex texted him. He stared in disgust at the pathetic gray bubble. 

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. 

      He threw the phone onto the comforter and paced his room furiously. Back and forth, up and down. He was sure the neighbors would yell at him next time they saw him. 

      The blonde ran his fingers through his hair and rooted around his closet. His ex had never been a nice woman. He should have known she was poison from the beginning. 

      With the red lipstick and plunging neckline, her attire had screamed at him to kiss her. So he had. Jimin was a man of discipline, but he had always lost control in her presence. 

      He wouldn’t allow himself to do that again. He pulled out a tie and tugged on a suit jacket. When he stared at his reflection, eyebrows knitted together and lips pulled into an unflattering frown, he set down the tie. 

     The man took a couple of deep breaths. She was doing it again, making him feel out of control. Controlling his temper, controlling his love life. A lot of his life was about control. 

      He massaged his cheeks and let himself relax. He tied his tie and pulled on socks. Then, he walked calmly back into his bedroom, reached across the comforter, and grasped his phone. With a few decisive taps, he sent his message and dropped his phone back into his pocket. 

Sorry doesn’t cut it, sweetheart, Cheaters never win. 

         You heard screaming. Was it you? You turned to the side, realizing Hae-won’s tight grip had disappeared. No. 

          It was definitely Hae-won screaming. She writhed in pain on the floor, slowly trying to crawl away. Blood smeared down her leg. The knife had fallen to the floor and you quickly kicked it far out of reach. 

         Hoseok’s face gave away no emotion. Inside, his mind was reeling. Did he really just do that? Just as calmly as he had shot, he walked over and placed a pair of handcuffs around Hae-won’s wrists. 

“Hae-won, you are under arrest for the murders of Hak-kun, Jane doe, Iseul, and two others. Everything you say can and will be held against you.” He recited dutifully.

        Jin and Jimin rushed over. Jungkook was quiet, standing and watching the scene unfold like a movie. A few minutes later, an ambulance has pulled up and a team of paramedics is pulling Hae-won away on a stretcher.

      Officer Nam arrived, shaking hands with Namjoon and going around to thank every person. Jungkook accepted the handshake in a daze, barely registering what was being said. 

       Once everyone had cleared out and it was just the eight of you standing in an abandoned warehouse, you let out a collective sigh. A few chuckles rolled around the group, but Jungkook was still. 

       Namjoon wrapped him into a hug and pressed a kiss to his temple before ushering everyone back out to the van. He watched as you looked sadly at all of them laughing and joking before stepping into your car and driving away. 

         Jungkook had always been observant. Shame arose in his cheeks as he remembered the failed kiss. The boys had raised him better than that. 

        The quiet that followed the case was short lived. Soon enough, they were busy with the trial and conviction of Hae-won. It was funny how Hae-won’s words rang true, how the whole town so easily turned their backs on her, despite having chanted her name a few days ago like a saint.

         They discovered heavy layers of coats and jackets, despite it being almost 90 degrees every day in Cape Springs. Namjoon put this forth as evidence of her being able to match the physical description of a man.

        Hae-won pleaded guilty to first degree murder. They took her away with a smile on her face. 

 “Can we talk?”

“You know, I’m really sick of hearing that lately.” You muttered, twisting around in your seat to look at Jungkook. 

“I just wanted to say…” The young boy shifted around uncomfortably as the airplane’s ignition clicked on and the cabin began rattling.

“You’re sorry? You wish it hadn’t happened?” You pursed your lips. 

“Yeah I’ve heard it.” Then you rubbed at your tired eyes. “You guys really hurt me, but I’ll be okay. I’m stronger than you think.” 

       You then twisted to face away from him. You heard him sigh unhappily and close the window shade. 

       Jin was a man of principle and order. Everyday he went to the same coffee shop to get the same coffee and bagel at the same time. He always got home at the same time each night, 8:00 P.M. on the dot. He counted on others to be able to accommodate this, and while it might seem selfish or even pompous on his part, he actually believed it helped other people. 

       This was all to say, Seokjin didn’t take risks. He was a firm and stubborn man with little time to break out of his mold. He knew he was probably going to take up some office job, but in the meantime, he liked to study the law. 

       Namjoon was the opposite. Namjoon liked to go out of his way to try something new, to find a new problem and then solve it. It was in his nature as a rather helpful person.

        When the two, Jin and Namjoon, combined, they balanced each other out. It was a careful balance, maintained by careful precision in language and movement; were the other to step too far over into the other’s boundaries, the scale would tip and fall over. 

       It didn’t take long for the boundary to be crossed. 

-

“Mr. Kim!” 

“Yes, Mr. Kim?” Jin looked up from his files and peered up at the chief through gold rimmed glasses. 

“We have a situation.” 

        Whoever thought it was a good idea to put four men in the same dorm room at a time was on crack. That’s what Jin had decided when he spent a few weeks in the station. 

      The place had dormitories for officers that were working on long cases or who needed somewhere to stay on and off shift. He cursed Y/N for being one of the few females who stayed at the station, so she got her own room. Jin was stuck sharing a room with Namjoon. 

       When he arrived at the scene of the crime, there were two men rolling on the ground fighting. 

“YOU. ARE. ONE. ARROGANT. BASTARD.” One shouted. 

“I’M JUST DOING WHAT YOU’RE TELLING ME!” The other screamed. 

      Hair was being tugged, punches were being thrown. Namjoon cleared his throat and Jin tapped his foot. 

“Men, what do you think you’re doing?” Namjoon started calmly. They didn’t register his voice, so Jin squinted, spotting one face, and knew exactly who it was. 

“Mr. Min Yoongi. Mr. Kim Taehyung.” Jin said, his voice clipped and stern. The men screeched to a halt and simultaneously turned to look at him. 

       Taehyung was on top, a fist full of Yoongi’s shirt in his hands. Yoongi pulled at Taehyung’s hair. Both panted, out of breath. Jin surveyed the damage. Taehyung had a bloody nose, which was now dripping onto Yoongi’s neck. A red bruise was blossoming on Yoongi’s cheek. 

“You’re professionals for god’s sake.” Jin pressed his lips into a thin line. 

      Then he glanced around, seeing as no one had seen this little fight. His face melted into amusement. They looked a right mess. 

“You guys look awful. Wash up and get some rest. No one was hurt too badly, right?” They shook their heads. “Then,” Jin clapped his hands together. “I guess there’s no harm done. Just try not to do it again “ 

       The men scrambled away, muttering under their breaths and he was sure they weren’t kind words. 

“I wonder how those two get along.” Namjoon mused. 

“They somehow make it work.” Jin smoothed the lapels of his jacket. “It’s sort of like us.” 

“But we wouldn’t roll on the floor punching each other!” Namjoon protested, following Jin as he made his way back downstairs. 

“I would if I had to.” He smiled. “What kind of second in command would I be if I wouldn’t get into a fist fight with the chief when he’s being an ass?” 

“But I’m not usually an ass, right?” Namjoon stuttered. 

“Well...you do have an ass.” Jin winked, causing Namjoon’s face to flush red and his mouth to hang open in shock at his usually well-mannered coworker. “But you’re not terrible, Namjoon.” 

“That’s reassuring.”

“Do you want a pat on the back or something?”

“Actually I would like that-”

“No.”

The first barrier had been broken. 

        Landing in South Korea felt like things were returning to normal. Jin had assumed the motherly role of the group once more, making sure everyone had their bags. You stood, in a hurry to get off the plane. Hoseok and Jimin had shared a row in front of you so they were the first to leave. 

        Namjoon and Jin were next from the middle aisle while Taehyung and Yoongi were first on the far right aisle. You and Jungkook were last, but when you stepped off that plane, it felt like something had changed. 

          You were now separated from the horrors of the USA and back home. You, of all people, knew this place wasn’t the safest, but it was pretty damn good. And it was...calming to step back into this city you called home. 

“Hey, Y/N.” Namjoon snapped a couple times in front of your face before you refocused. 

“Wha-oh sorry.” You gripped the suitcase he handed you. 

“Long flight?” 

“Yeah, I was really tired, but I couldn’t sleep, not really. It was more like short bursts.” You laughed a little. He chuckled along, but then softened. 

“Are you okay?” 

      No, but you needed everything to be okay right now. The past few weeks had been haunting, gruesome, and bone chilling. You had been right next to a goddamn murderer, a cold, heartless, killer. But Hae-won wasn’t like that. She was chilling in her kindness, the fake genuineness that had everyone falling. 

“No.” You sighed and reached out to squeeze his arm. “But I really need things to be okay right now, so please,” You dropped your hand and bit at your lip. “Just let it be okay.” 

“Of course.” He nodded, heading on. The sun was just setting. 

       The seven shadows of your coworkers stretched before you, beckoning you to run to them. You turned and looked back at the airport entrance. Cars whizzed past you, oblivious to the horrors you had seen, living peacefully in ignorance. Hoseok was quiet, clearly having the same feelings as you. You wanted to say something to him, but he was always just out of reach.  

“You coming?” Jimin turned to look at you and you froze. His eyes were kind, his mouth even tilted into a small smile. 

“Yup!” You looked both ways quickly before crossing over to them. 

“You just jaywalked.” Namjoon pointed out with a goofy smile. 

“What are you, a cop?” You smiled, remembering one of your first conversations with him. 

“The correct line is ‘I don’t see any cops, what are you gonna do, arrest me?’” He teased and hooked his arm around your waist. 

“Alright, you smart ass.” You groaned, leaning against his side. 

“You’ll always be our girl, you know?” Namjoon leaned down, his breath fanning across your neck. 

“I know.” 

        A news alert flashed across the billboards. You frowned, eyes drawn to the red LEDs. The others turned as well. THIRD MURDER IN DAEGU, IF YOU SEE ANYONE SUSPICIOUS PLEASE CONTACT THE POLICE BY DIALING 112. 

“You know what this means, right?” Jungkook turned to you, a small smile on his face. 

         You nodded, your grip tightening on Namjoon’s waist. 

“We have a serial killer on our hands.”

 Taglist: @lovelyseomin​ @yoonchrisgullwrites​ @mimisxs​ @slutkoo​ @mon-art-de-reve​ @sadboibts​ @hunnayesblog (i’m not sure why the tag isn’t working)

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[merrybrides]

How To Plan A Summer Wedding

The Skinny on Summer Weather

Slap on that sunblock, because in nearly all parts of the country you can usually count on temps in the 70s (or higher!)—especially in the dog days of summer, like late July and August.

While sweet summertime means blue skies and balmy breezes most of the time, there are still some weather concerns to be aware of. For example, many east coast areas can experience torrential rain in the form of thunderstorms—soooo not ideal for an outdoor wedding! Then there's the south and southwest, where the thermometer can get up to 100 degrees fahrenheit or higher. An outdoor ceremony in this heat gives new meaning to the phrase, sweating for the wedding.

And, while less likely, there's the potential for natural disasters that can occur in the summer months. On the west coast, drought conditions frequently cause large-scale wildfires that bring hazy skies, poor air quality, and even evacuations. The opposite side of the country comes with the nasty Atlantic hurricane season, which begins June 1 and peaks in late August.

So…to play it safe, know what weather is forecasted for your wedding day, make sure to give your out-of-town guests whatever wardrobe tips they need to be prepared, and always—we repeat, ALWAYS—have a bad-weather backup plan. Just. in. case.

Summer Holidays

Besides fabulous weather, summer seems to be the least limiting in terms of holidays and other potential hiccups. While you won't have to compete with many major holidays, the months of June through July are some of the most popular times to get married AND go on vacation. You'll want to keep your guests' wallets in mind by giving them plenty of time to book flights and plan travel. Trust us, they'll thank you.

Here are a few dates to keep in mind:

Memorial Day – Always a Monday in May (Technically this is a spring holiday, but widely considered the unofficial start of summer)

Father's Day – Always a Sunday in June

Independence Day – Always July 4th, but days off can vary

Labor Day – Always a Monday in September

Hint: Save-the-dates for destination weddings typically get sent out 8–12 months in advance, while save-the-dates for local weddings can be sent out closer to 4 months in advance.

Summer Wedding Pros & Cons

There are so many advantages to getting married in the summer:

Typically gorgeous weather. Break out those sunnies!

There are fewer holidays to work around. Plus, it's widely considered PC to have an Independence Day or Labor Day weekend wedding.

The "Yes" RSVPs are more likely to roll in. Guests are often more willing and excited to take time off work and travel to a summer wedding!

Your outdoor venue and location choices are wide-open. Think barns, mountaintops and, of course, toes-in-the-sand beach weddings. The choices are endless!

However, there are a fair number of disadvantages to be aware of:

Summer is the most popular season to tie the knot. Venues and vendors often up their prices during this time, especially on weekends. Keep an eye out for peak-season rates when planning your wedding budget.

Destination wedding and honeymoon prices are also hitting their peak as most Americans book their vacation during the summer months.

Your favorite venues and vendors could be booked up months to years in advance for popular summer wedding dates.

Summer Color Palette

Unlike other times of the year and their seasonal hues, the sunshine-filled days of summer complement nearly any wedding color palette. While you'll typically see bright colors at summer weddings, there's no need to shy away from deep blues, rich grays, or even black. Don't be afraid to think outside the box when it comes to putting together your own colors!

Bridesmaids and Groomsmen

When it comes to dressing your bridal party, comfort needs to be at the top of the list. If you're tying the knot in the Deep South in late July, chances are your 'maids and groomsmen won't appreciate being buried under layers of fabric and accessories. Consider shorter dresses or lighter fabrics, like organza or charmeuse.

For groomsmen, you'll want to be extra certain you won't be causing sweat overload before the ceremony has even started! Stick with lighter suit jackets and vests—or ditch the jackets altogether. Look into a variety of different hot-weather-friendly looks like khaki, rolled sleeves, suspenders, or even shorts and flip-flops!

Working With What's In Season

When you buy what's in season, you get food and flowers at the peak of their supply when costs are normally lower. Plus, when they're locally grown they don't need to be shipped halfway around the globe. So not only do you save money, but you also reduce your carbon footprint. Win-win.

—Summer Wedding Food—

Much like spring, summer is peak harvesting season for fruits and vegetables. Summer's sunshine means there's no excuse to serve food that doesn't include a little color! As for veggies, the sky's the limit as to what's in season: green beans, cucumbers, eggplant, peas, and corn—just to name a few.

While fruit harvests are bountiful during this time of year, the weather can affect when they're ripest. Be on the lookout for melons, peaches, plums, raspberries, and blackberries because all of these are at their juiciest in the summer months. Fortunately, the abundance of produce in the summer can lead to lower prices, which is especially great if you're planning a farm-to-table wedding!

—Summer Wedding Flowers—

No matter where you are in the country, it seems that beautiful blooms are popping up all over the place. There are literally hundreds of options, but here are a few of our favorite summertime flowers:

Sunflowers. This classic is the poster child of summer, but we love how they add a pop of bright yellow to any bouquet.

Hydrangeas. These fluffy blossoms are summer staples that come in a wide variety of pretty colors.

Calla Lilies make a statement when bundled in a bouquet, and add a classy accent to any summer arrangement.

Amaranthus. From deep reds to fresh greens, this rope-like accent flower is perfect for boho or beach weddings, or even a more elegant affair!

Cacti. Use succulents like aloe and you can't go wrong.

Eucalyptus is a floral trend we're seeing year-round, and we're not complaining!

Pro Tip: Since some flowers are more prone to wilting in the summer heat than others, be sure to double-check with your florist before committing to any one flower or greenery.

Summer Catering Trends

With a cornucopia of fresh fruits and veggies to choose from, you may have already started your search for the perfect hand-lettered sign to direct your guests to the salad bar. Not so fast! There are oh-so-many ways to pay homage to the tastes of the season, not all of which involve plants. If your personal faves include poultry, beef, and seafood, they can easily be incorporated into lighter versions of classics. Or, consider fun, non-traditional alternatives like tapas (Spanish small plates), a festive taco bar, or even good old-fashioned barbecue!

Your reception wouldn't be complete without a summer-inspired dessert! How about wine-flavored sorbet, yummy ice cream, or other frozen treats like snow cones, granita, or gelato to cool your guests down on those warm summer days! Or, what about a classic summer staple like cobbler or pie? There are so many options to choose from, so go wild!

Summer Wedding Cake Trends

Play with light and refreshing flavors like lemon, raspberry, and coconut instead of rich, fudgy chocolate—unless that's your thing, of course! If you're not into the "naked" cake trend, ice your cake with summery frostings that showcase coconut, cherry, or Tahitian vanilla. Dress it up with sprigs of lavender or rosemary, some gold leaf, or a pretty ombré pattern. The latest trend we're partial to? Colorful brush strokes paired with bright blooms. You could even ask if your baker is willing to collab with your florist to match your cake to your bouquet! Your wedding cake—assuming you even have one—should be as unique as you are!

Summer-Inspired Wedding Favors

Your guests will no doubt appreciate customized hand fans to keep cool or neon-colored sunnies to block summer's harsh rays. Or, hit up Old Navy's $1 Flip-Flop Sale to stock up on cheap sandals for tired feet to change into. You can also pick up miniature bottles of rosé, tiny potted succulents, homemade jam, and even travel-sized bottles of sunscreen with a custom sticker slapped on. And if you're really on a budget, how about some fresh seasonal fruit for your guests to enjoy?

Summer Signature Cocktails

If you're serving cocktails on your big day, there's no better time to get creative than during the summer! Sparkling wines, champagne spritzers, and fruity cocktails are just the tip of the iceberg. Hit up your bartender (or just the drink-maker at your fave hangout spot!) for custom cocktails inspired by you and your fiancé. Refreshing berry mojitos, vodka-infused Arnold Palmers, boozy sangria, and mango bellinis—oh, yes! Just be sure to have water available for your guests at all times to keep them hydrated. Drink up!