#Coriander Grey

[epochinspace]

Y'ALL, band AU got me good!!

I'll post more lore in a separate post, but their band name is EPICSPACE

Current Members:

Maris - (founding member) - Lead Vocals, Rhythm Guitar

Cori - (founding member) - Backing Vocals, Lead Guitar (leftie)

Soren - (founding member) - Drums

Shiloh - joined 20XX-present - Bass Guitar

Former Members:

several bass players unnamed

[abyssopelagic-terror]

cilantro and coriander are the same thing? huh.

[parcai]

my red flag is spelling everything w br*tish english ☹️

[aoioozora]

Simon.

Part 8

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Note: I still can't believe that I've written 8 whole chapters for a oneshot that I never planned on making into a series! But I'm glad it's coming along well and that you're enjoying it :) I hope you enjoy this chapter too.

Tags: @cmbghost @gluttonybiscuits @paintlavillered @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @iimichie

@mxtokko

“Morning, Simon!” 

____ and Lindsey arrived at Simon's door at seven in the morning as planned. His crush was the one who excitedly greeted him, while her friend looked disgruntled and ticked at having to be up so early. 

“Morning,” he greeted them civilly as his hand instinctively ran through his hair, trying not to appear even the slightest disheveled or flustered at the sight of ____’s smiles, and moved away from the door to let the two in. 

“Have a seat. I'll bring you some tea,” he said, promptly moving towards the kitchen. 

The ladies, particularly the author, took in the surroundings of his little flat as they entered and sat down. The entire place as a whole was simple. The walls of the living room were empty and unpainted except for a singular, ancient grandfather clock that hung alone near his curtained balcony, filling the quiet room with its rhythmic ticking. She saw that he was concerned more with pragmatics than aesthetics; if it didn't serve a purpose, then it wasn't needed. 

She saw that he favored dark colors of blue and black, and neutrals, but found that bright colors were speckled throughout the room in his red floor lamp, the gold painted knobs of his brown television stand, and the red and white chevron patterned cushions on his grey couch. The simple state of his room made her wonder if his bedroom was more personalised. 

A hint of green caught her attention and she turned to the balcony. A few potted plants of mint, tomatoes, and coriander, all of which were healthy and green, swayed gently in the morning breeze. She smiled at this. “He’s a gardener,” she thought to herself, not quite expecting it.

The smell of lemon and mint wafted through the air, bringing her thoughts back. Simon brought out a tray of three mismatched teacups and a glass teapot filled with what smelled and looked like lemon tea. 

“Have some tea,” he set down the tray on the coffee table and poured out the tea for them. 

She, wanting to use Simon as a model for her character, Frederick, watched keenly as he poured with a thoughtful, concentrated look on his face. She wondered why he used a glass teapot over porcelain or any other material, but that was probably not important. However, she was not going to let even the smallest things about him and his choices escape her scrutiny. 

“When will Johnny come?” asked Lindsey as soon as she had her sip of tea. 

Simon glanced at the grandfather clock. “At six forty-five, he said he'd be here in ten minutes. He's picking up our other friend, Kyle too. Maybe there's some hold-up,” he answered. He felt a little strange; it was his first time properly speaking to Lindsey, and she seemed to look judgingly at him, as if to find a fault. 

____ was silent, as she was more concentrated on the taste and temperature of her tea. It was lightly sweetened and refreshing thanks to the lemon and mint. A mental note was already taken that Frederick too would be good at brewing tea. 

Simon's ringtone tore the silence and he immediately slid the phone out of his jeans. Thinking it was Johnny, he looked expectantly, but it was his mum. Looking back at the ladies, he excused himself and went out to the balcony to talk. 

“What do you think of him?” ____ asked Lindsey, who took slow sips of her tea as the two watched the man pace around the balcony through the partially drawn translucent curtains. 

“He makes good tea,” she answered, “I think I'll approve of him a bit.” To Lindsey, a man who could brew a good tea was worth marrying, because, according to her, it meant that he cared about the little things, like making tea taste good. As ____ smiled, she paused for a moment before quipping, “He seems nice so far, but I don't trust him just yet.”

____ shook her head, chuckling. Lindsey was always so skeptical of everyone and everything, both a vice and a virtue. 

Simon soon emerged from the balcony into the living room, brows furrowed with concern. He looked straight at ____ and said, “I need to have a word with you, darling,” and then promptly stepped into the kitchen without waiting for an answer, expecting her to follow. 

She instantly set down her teacup and followed Simon into the kitchen. “What's the matter?” she asked as soon as she entered, finding him leaning his back on the kitchen counter, arms crossed. 

He turned to her, almost opening his mouth to speak but cautiously glanced at the open door; he looked back at her, beckoning her to come closer. When she did, he said, “I don't know how you'll react to this but I need you to hear me out, alright, darling?” 

Her curiosity heightened and she nodded.

“Y'see, my mum just called and they're going to have a family reunion soon since my old man's come back home for a holiday from his military service,” he paused, sucking in a sharp breath, unsure about how she would take his next words, but continued anyway, “And my mum asked me if I found a girlfriend yet because she's worried I'm going to die single…” he paused again, “and I may have accidentally told her that you're my girlfriend.” 

“You what?” she stared incredulously at Simon, although she wasn't quite opposed to what he did. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, shaking his head, embarrassed with himself, “I'm really sorry.” 

“Wait, does your mum know about me?” 

“Yeah, I told her a few weeks ago that I recently made friends with this lass,” he paused to sigh again, “And when she asked if I finally found a girlfriend, I accidentally said yes, and when she asked if it was you…” he paused again and shrugged. 

The lady paused. Now that he said it, it couldn't be helped and she had to play along. Not that it bothered her. She chuckled. “Well, it's alright. You take the trouble of pretending to be my boyfriend, so I guess it wouldn't hurt to pretend to be your girlfriend for a bit.” 

Simon looked back at her, visibly relieved. 

“Now, what do you need me to do?” she asked. 

“That's the hard part. We'll have to make up a story of how we met and how we hit it off. And I'll have to bring you home and introduce you to my family. And not just that, you know who else will be there.” He pursed his lips tight. 

She immediately knew. She wiped her clammy hands on her jeans and nodded. “Right, yes.”

He could see the apprehension on her face and in her body as she crossed her arms. Feeling terrible that he dragged her into this, he said, “Darling, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. If going there and meeting him again will make you uncomfortable, then I'm not forcing you to come with me.” 

She drew in a shaky breath and pondered for a moment. Simon watched her, gulping harshly. 

“No,” she finally said, resolute, “I shouldn't be so scared all the time. If I'm going to be there as your girlfriend, I shouldn't be afraid of some ex of mine.”

Simon blinked in surprise at this response. He appreciated her bravery, and felt his admiration for her increase. However, he didn't show it, and kept his facial expressions neutral with a little smile. “I guess, yeah,” he nodded. He paused for a moment, wanting to say something else, but she beat him to it.

“If anything happens, you’ll stick up for me, won’t you?” she asked smilingly, “Since you’re my “boyfriend”.”

He felt his heart leap. That was the exact thing he wanted to assure her of, and it flattered him greatly to know that they had been thinking of the same thing. Even though he knew this was going to be a pretense, it rubbed his male instincts and ego right to be depended on for protection. 

He answered with a wide smile, “Of course, my love.”

“Why d’ye drive a manual?” asked Johnny as soon as he took the shotgun seat, watching ____ take her place in the driver's seat. 

“Tut tut,” she shook her head, bringing out a mini sombrero from her pocket which she placed on the gear stick, “It's Emmanuel.”

The three passengers in the back, from left to right– Simon, Lindsey, and Gaz, watched as Johnny burst out laughing, also making ____ laugh as she got the car started. 

“Ghosty, she's a woman of culture!” Johnny exclaimed, looking back at his best friend. 

Simon made no answer as he was upset that he couldn't sit next to ____. Lindsey felt similarly, but for Johnny. Regardless of that, the drive began with gusto, with Johnny and Gaz filling the time with their singing and jokes, while the other three listened. 

____ drove for the first hour, and Johnny took over for the second and the two switched seats, exchanging jokes and quips with ease, making both Simon and Lindsey at the back miserable and jealous. Simon drove for fifteen minutes in the third hour until he nearly hit a tree, but swerved back to the road right on time to avoid damaging both the car and his crush's esteem. Gaz took over for the remaining forty-five minutes, and Simon was banished to the back seat. 

Thankfully for him, ____ sat next to him to console him, “Don't worry. After all, you did say that if you tried really hard, you wouldn't hit a tree. You did great for fifteen minutes at least!”

Simon chuckled out of embarrassment. It didn't make him feel any better, but he appreciated her effort. 

The camping spot was soon in sight. It was around ten in the morning when Gaz parked the car in the shed of a little cabin. The ladies learnt that the spot belonged to one of Gaz's relatives, who was happy to lend it out to anyone who needed it. And from how the three men scampered around the place relaxedly, it was evident that they were regular visitors. 

The fenced piece of land was right next to a little lake which afforded a view of the distant green hills speckled with heathers and daisies. A lonely little dock hung over the surface of the water, which, as Simon informed the ladies, “made a nice fishing spot”.

The group first decided to begin their hike as planned before unloading the car. England's weather was notorious for being fickle and since the skies were currently clear of all rain clouds, the hike was chosen as the first activity. 

The trail was an easy one, chosen for the benefit of the ladies who were partially accustomed to walking on rocky, uneven terrain. The end of it promised a little waterfall, which Johnny was excited about showing them, as was evident in his constant singing of sea shanties while they hiked. Gaz happily joined him, while the ladies and Simon chose to be their audience like earlier. 

“Johnny sure loves to sing,” observed ____, who trudged between Lindsey and Simon. 

“He's a born singer,” replied Simon with a sigh, sounding both proud of and annoyed with his friend, “And he was a theater kid too. Acted in tons of musicals and plays, mostly musicals. Put him together with Gaz and they'll be singing and dancing all day.”

She chuckled. “How long have you guys known each other?” 

“Johnny's my childhood friend. We've known each other since we were ten years old. As for Gaz, both of us met him in university and we quickly became friends,” he explained, kicking a rock out of the way. 

The two ladies looked at each other. “That's a long time,” remarked Lindsey, “You all must be really close then.” 

“Too close,” Simon said dryly, but there was a hint of affection in his voice. He then turned to the ladies to ask, “And what about you two? How long have you been friends?” 

“Since high school,” ____ answered, smilingly linking her arm with Lindsey's, “She's basically my sister now.” 

Simon smiled. He could tell, for the moment he saw them together, they stuck to each other like glue and didn't leave each other's side for more than a few moments. 

Johnny looked back at the calm trio behind him and Gaz. “Jolene!” He called Lindsey by her nickname. When he had her attention, he beckoned her to join him in singing. 

“I don't know any of the songs you're singing!” she protested. 

“Dinnae ye worry, wee lassie!” he retraced his steps, put an arm around her shoulders, and dragged her ahead with him, making her squeal and stumble. “Gaz and I will teach you!” he promised, and kept his arm around her as they hiked up the hillock. 

While the two men busied themselves in teaching Lindsey to sing ‘Bully in the Alley’, ____ and Simon were left to themselves. The lady smiled at Lindsey's attempts to sing, though she was no singer. 

“Lindsey hates singing,” she whispered to Simon, “It's crazy how she's doing it for Johnny.” A girlish giggle escaped her lips at the thought of a romance blooming between the two. Her authorly brain couldn't help but conjecture all the sweet moments they would have, worthy of a novel of its own. 

“And I'll tell you what, Johnny's never been this fixated on one woman for this long either. He's normally a huge flirt, a ladies’ man, if you will. I'm just as surprised as you are,” answered Simon. 

The mention of Johnny being a flirt worried her. She knew Lindsey to almost easily give her affections to anyone who would look her way, starved for love as she was. But she decided to stay out of the way and watch the two for now. If Johnny ever did anything that would hurt Lindsey, she would not hesitate to confront him. 

The hike was now proving to get a little tiring, and ____ let out a sigh as she paused to catch her breath and drink some water. Simon stopped too, looking down at her from the slightly steep ascent. 

“Are you tired?” he asked. 

“A little, yeah.” 

He bent his knee and lowered himself slightly, holding out his hand. “Come on,” he encouraged, “Just a little more and we'll be at the waterfall.” 

She took his outstretched hand, and no sooner they made contact, a jolt of electricity ran down both their spines. Simon gulped harshly at this reaction, and she felt an additional tingle in her stomach. His larger, more rugged hand held her softer and smaller hand in his, and he pulled her up the ascent with ease. She thanked him as soon as they were next to each other, Simon, eager to be of further assistance, held out his arm to her. 

“You can hold my arm if you want to,” he offered, trying to sound as casual as he could, though his thoughts begged her to give him the honour of accepting him. 

Her hand practically flew to his arm in an instant, wrapping just below his bicep. Simon never felt more depended upon than now as the two began walking together. And she was completely flattered by his kind offer, trying to suppress her smiles and blushes. The two were, without doubt, over the moon. 

The lady was sure to make mental notes about everything Simon did. Frederick would be tall and brooding, but a kind-hearted and observant gentleman with a soft spot for Adelheid.

“This reminds me of the Jane Austen novels where the men would offer their arms to the ladies when they got tired as they walked,” she commented with a bright smile and a certain twinkle in her eye as she moved closer to him, allowing her hand to curl tighter against his arm. 

He noted the expression on her face and the movement and instinctively flexed his bicep so that she could feel it. He smiled in response to her comment and said with a chuckle, his cheeks overspread with a light pink, “So it was a custom back then? Interesting.” He hadn't read a lot of Regency era novels to know of past English social customs, but he seemed intrigued by this one aspect that she mentioned. Wanting to know if she really approved of it, asked, “Do you like it?” 

She loved it, but for the sake of being mild, said, “I think it's nice, especially now when I don't see men doing this sort of thing.”

“So you like gentlemen then?” 

She giggled. “A lot.” 

Simon took note of this immediately. If she liked a gentleman, a gentleman he would be. If men of his day didn't do the things he did, like offering their arm, or pulling out the chair for her at a table, he most certainly would do it, for he didn't want to be like other men. He wanted to be special and singled out by her. 

They began descending down a slightly slippery, gravelly path that led to the waterfall, and Simon took hold of her upper arm this time as he led her down so that she wouldn’t fall in case she slipped over the loose gravel. He was reminded yet again of how much smaller she was compared to him, and it only heightened his desire to keep her safe. 

The gurgle and rush of water from the distant waterfall was soon heard, and a few meters of walking on level ground finally brought them to the waterbody familiar to the men. Johnny cheered like he never saw a waterfall before, loud enough for his voice to echo in the wilderness, and for Lindsey to cover her ears and curse under her breath.

“We're here!”

End of Part 8.

Part 9

Like always, leave a comment if you want to be added to my taglist!

[sodapop-hospice]

So here’s the council 💖

Not depicted are my five (?) Furby buddies, my 2023 furbling, and my forty-ish McDonald’s furbs. I don’t count them when taking family photos because fuck that. Moving nearly 67 furbies is painful as is.

Below is a list of all of their names, pronouns, and model names. Enjoy ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

———————————————————————

First Row

❤️Zara (she/her) - Dalmatian

🧡Luxury “Lux” (she/her) - Champagne

💛Cruft (he/him) - Silver Millenium

💚Lotus (he/they) - Elephant

💙Hyacinth (she/her) - Elephant

💜Askew (he/they) - Tiger

❤️Wren (they/them) - Dalmatian

———————————————————————

Second Row

🧡Crush (he/him) - Leopard

💛Celsius (he/him) - Husky

💚Fenti (she/her) - Snow Leopard

💙Birch (he/him) - Zebra

💜Jolt (she/they/it) - Koala

❤️Honeydew “Honey” (she/her) - Coffee

———————————————————————

Third Row

🧡Cider (she/her) - Autumn

💛Faygo (she/they) - Ladybug

💚Lottery “Lotty” (they/she) - Kiwi

💙Fanta (she/her) - Rooster

💜Moth (she/her) - Wizard

❤️Sodapop (he/it/they) - Ladybug

🧡Brew (he/him) - Autumn

———————————————————————

Fourth Row

💛Spry (he/him) - Dalmatian

💚Salud (she/they) - Flower Bud Baby

💙Niro (they/them) - Primary Baby

💜Sprocket (he/him) - Spring Baby

❤️Sucrose (he/him) - Confetti Baby

🧡Pluto (he/him) - Minty Baby

💛Gauze 2 (they/he) - Witch’s Cat

———————————————————————

Fifth Row

💚Mayday (she/they) - Skunk

💙Coal (he/him) - Santa

💜Deetz (she/it/they) - Church Mouse

❤️Blitzen “Blitz” (he/him) - Reindeer

🧡Punch (they/he/she) - Flamingo

💛Helvetica (she/her) - Santa

💚Chad (he/him) - Tropical

———————————————————————

Sixth Row

💙Gumshoe (he/him) - Witch’s Cat

💜Threat (he/him) - Pink Baby

❤️Lune (she/star/bun/moon) - Peachy Baby

🧡Bee (he/him) - Blue Baby

💛Gloom (they/them) - Spring Time Baby

💚Osteo (he/him) - Snowball Baby

💙Lovelace “Vel” (she/they/he) - Dalmatian

———————————————————————

Seventh Row

💜”Baabu” (???) - Blue Baby

❤️Sugar (she/her) - Leopard

🧡Vinyl (she/they) - Racer

💛Sweet Tart “Sweetie” (they/she) - Tie-Dye

💚Rico (he/him) - Spring

💙Cream (she/her) - Snowball

💜Bierce (they/them) - Easter

❤️Carrion (he/him) - Snowball Baby

———————————————————————

Eighth Row

🧡Shea (she/her) - Gorilla

💛Sumo/Paradise (she/her) - Skunk

💚Kujo (he/him) - Church Mouse

💙Pepsi “Bepis” (she/her) - Wavy Stripes Baby

💜Ferris (she/they/he) - Dalmatian

❤️Attic (he/him) - Grey Wolf

🧡Ribbit “Ribb” (they/them) - Frog

———————————————————————

Ninth Row

💛Gambit (he/him) - Snowball Baby

💚Faun (he/him) - Bear

💙Bottle (he/they) - Giraffe

💜Micheal (he/him) - Lizard

❤️Lotion (he/him) - Giraffe

🧡Coriander “Cori” (he/him) - Cheetah

💛Fortune (he/him) - Giraffe

💚Cryptid (they/it) - Very Purple Baby

———————————————————————

Not Depicted ( only 1998 mechanical furbies)

💙Spree (she/her) - Gorilla

💜Dusk (he/him) - Church Mouse

❤️Gauze 1 (???) - Witch’s Cat

———————————————————————

And finally, here’s the previous photo I took next to the current one. Clearly I’ve been on my custom grind in the past few months 😅‼️

[olenvasynyt]

Foods from each of ACOTAR's Seasonal Courts:

Okay so I have been obsessed with thinking about what dishes the Pyrthian seasonal Courts would have based on their season ofc because I love worldbuilding and I have pinned so many recipes onto my Pinterest board for this so here we go all recipes will have links :)

Spring:

Strawberry watermelon salad with burrata

Lilac lemonade

Cucumber gazpacho with avocado and greek yogurt

Fava bean, pea, and egg spring tart

Pink radicchio salad

Stir-fried lamb with coriander and Sichuan pepper

Earl grey crème brûlée tart

Beltaine (May Day) spiced honey cake

Rose tiramisu

[maracujatangerine]

82. Taking Note

CW: mental health issues, institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump

The pale light of an overcast winter’s day flattened all the colours; the yellow curtains, the violet saintpaulia on the windowsill, the pet’s own blonde hair, everything taking on a washed-out tinge of grey. Coriander sat at the kitchen table, pen in hand, staring at a blue notebook. Miss Lydia had asked it to choose one of the notebooks at her bookshop yesterday.

“Perhaps you would like to try writing down your thoughts?” She had suggested, gently. “It is not for me to read. I promise that I won’t. Cross my heart, and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye!”

She laughed, but the look in her brown eyes was serious.

“You can write down anything you want, and it will be for your eyes only, okay?”

The pet had nodded and told her that it understood. Now, Miss Lydia was out. She had gone for coffee with Cecilia, and the pet had elected to stay at home.

The notebook it had chosen had a Japanese-style drawing of a cresting wave on the cover, the white tips of the wave rendered with splashes in glossy silver. The white pages were neatly lined in black.

The radio was on in the background, a piece by Händel tugging at some half-remembered string at the back of the pet’s mind. Cory knew that Miss Lydia had left Radio 3 on for the pet’s sake, but that she wouldn’t mind if it changed the station, just like she hadn’t minded that the pet had chosen to stay behind when she went out.

It used to agonise endlessly over such small decisions. Did Miss Lydia want it to say yes or no? Would this thing make it a better pet, or would that?

Nowadays, more and more, it felt like it could trust that its owner said what she meant. If she needed it to come, she would let it know. If she gave it a choice, she truly wanted it to make up its own mind.

That was an unprecedented freedom. Generosity beyond its wildest dreams. It knew it was extraordinarily lucky.

It should be happy, should it not?

And it was grateful, it was!

But happiness eluded it

In the beginning, everything had brought it joy. Or, well, at least relief.

Having its wounds treated, feeling its body healing, aches and pains receding to the back of its mind and gradually fading away.

Hunger, the dull gnawing of an empty stomach, the weakness and loss of focus that comes with days and days without enough food to eat. The terrible fear of feeling your own body consuming itself to stay alive. No more!

In its life with Miss Lydia, Coriander could still feel hungry, sometimes. At the end of a long day, before lunch at work, out on a hike in the woodlands. But it never felt truly hungry. That bottomless need for sustenance was a thing of the past.

These things brought relief. The joy came later.

Miss Lydia gently petting its hair, and Coriander genuinely wanting - and daring - to lean into her touch.

Playing the tin whistle for Miss Indira and the doctor responding with enthusiastic applause.

Laughing together with Miss Lydia without the pet having to carefully guard every word to avoid angering its owner.

Working at the shop and being given a nod of approval from Miss Carla at a job well done.

Sitting in the garden and watching flowers bloom from seeds they had sown together.

These were all things of joy, of beauty. Miss Lydia was consistently fair and kind. The pet felt healthy now, strong, even. Its damaged shoulder still impeded its daily life, its scars ached sometimes, and the nightmares refused to go away, but these were mere trifles in the grand scheme of things.

So, why wasn’t it happy?

It should be. It had been.

But now, lately, it was like some undefined malaise had taken hold of the pet. A depressing weight that suffused everything, that stole joy out of everything, just like the grey winter light leaked the colours away.

Looking down on the pages, the pet realised it had written the same sentence over and over.

Why did this happen to me?

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards-blog @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[softdykellie]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ motion sickness part ii | ellie w.

previous part here | next part here soon

PAIRING: modern!ellie x fem!reader

SUMMARY: having grown up together, everyone knew eachother in jackson. when a brooding newcomer owner to a tattoo shop comes along apparently charming her friendly florist neighbor things seem to take a turn.

WARNING: alternative universe! purposefully all lower case. multiple part series. not a very eventful beginning as ellie’s relationship with reader is slow burn but it will start evolving after this one seriously trust me!

WORD COUNT: 632

ellie. you tasted her name on your tongue and melted into the feeling, flushed. dina had certainly manifested her wishes into fruition, you thought. stared at the girl for way too long, getting familiar with her features and vacant gaze towards the alcohol filled shelves against the main bar wall, freckles like starry war paint, eyebrow scar, pale green iris, peach pink lips, auburn hair gently brushing her shoulder at length. breathtaking, you immediately named the feeling, but she looked worn, tossed around. you blamed it on the bruised eye, caught onto sky grey vibes.

a silly game blossomed into your heart years ago, the inspiration for your flower shop really: how everyone you meet could be described by the floral language. dina thought hers too common, but it was your favorite, a daisy, standing for loyal love and “i’ll never tell”. jesse, a white jasmin, sweet love, amiability. even abby, coriander. you did not know the girl at all, but you saw red carnations grow behind her in the way spiritualists would claim to see auras. red carnations; “my heart aches”.

“flower shop girl, yes, that’d be me”

“cute” she mumbled sipping on the beer dina had given her before promptly pretending to be busy elsewhere though noticebly eavesdropping.

“you’ve got a lot of tattoos on you” jesse pointed matter of factly, earning a chuckle “perks of the job?”

“the job” ellie repeated his words in light humor as if minimizing her own career with the sound “yeah, i guess. you want one?”

“fuck, yeah! maybe a dragon up my back or or you know a snake, i don’t know, what do you usually draw?”

“pretty things” she answered before taking you off guard with a head movement that pointed you out amongst them all “like her” she twisted her body around to meet your face “what would you get, flower girl? roses?”

“the sun” you answered “what does that say about me?”

ellie smiled a weak smile, raising the sleeve of her grey t-shirt to expose a beaming sun by her bicep, detailed sad expression in black ink across its center. you took notice of everything. ferns and a moth grew from her hand to the very end of her forearm and covered scars you could only assume to have been self inflicted. a sword pierced through the spare space of skin next to a phoenix and finally angel wings alongside a well hidden initial: J. you wouldn’t ask, but you wanted to.

“trying to figure that out myself”

you hadn’t noticed when abby left, only that she was gone when a couple dollars slipped past you towards the ground from the countertops, extra tips for dina. you wanted her extroverted ways to carry the conversation, ask the newcomer about the altercation, but she seemed to enjoy playing dutiful dedicated owner more. small talk failed you, and ellie was uninterested.

you planned out your next meeting in your head, showing up with cookies as they do in the movies, catching glimpses of her sketches on the wall, giving them backstories to fill the gaps. it wasn’t so strange to be eager as you were taking into consideration how rare these opportunities had presented themselves: you never left jackson, not even on vacation. the world was meant to turn on its axis but you were destined to stay still, an agoraphobia rooted into your veins like movement would burst your chest open, bloody and broken. the flowers had been a therapist’s idea: to take care of something innocent as a purpose, exist outside the shell of a body you painfully cared for in pure obligation. your personal garden arsenal though, had meaning. yellow tulips, that’s what you were. the flower for unrequited love. the one tattooed by ellie’s hipbone you were yet to see.

[tales-from-thornvale]

i am so deep in this rabbithole (send help)

(there's a poll at the end i am just losing so many marbles atm)

hello couriers! i am currently transcribing the tales from thornvale episodes (that is a whole separate post, i can be So Normal about courier's call) and in The Seals And Inks Of The Courier Service, grandpa swiftwell himself tells us that the Seal of Favour is something "only given out to those who have helped the Courier Service in their time of need". He then goes on to say he has seen passengers "come aboard an Audron and make their way to Thornvale at the behest of those that carry a seal of favour",,

i.e. if you do the Courier Service one hell of a solid you can ask for favours like passage on ships.

NOW. You may be familiar with Big Sister Skyjacks and our beloved Uhuru crew, famous for taking aboard orphans, teaching them trades and then dropping them off at other ports. We see this happen in episode 38 in Burza Nyth, when Spit takes Bootstrap to go "talk about friends" in port to find him another trade. Cut to the Captain's choosing ceremony at the start of Courier's Call season one, and lo and behold, Bootstrap has made his way to Thornvale.

How, you may ask? Well, from our Grey Audron Tales we know that the Information Desk in Burza Nyth is one of the Grey Audron's "respected and proven clients", which hints that Burza Nyth is probably on the Grey's route. Bringing me all the way back round to my original point. Because Spit took Bootstrap to find somewhere else to go. And passage can be given to Thornvale upon the presentation of a seal of favour. Thornvale, a town which is famously impossible to find on your own and who's location is presumably a closed guarded secret.

So. Does Spit have a Seal of Favour with the Swiftwell Courier Service. Please send thoughts I am rotating this concept at the speed of sound.

If he does: WHY. HOW. WHY.

I present to you: The Poll

[epochinspace]

[krscblw]

Ministry Perfume Associations

I’m back yet again with more thoughts about Ghost and perfume! This time it’s fragrances from my own collection that remind me of various places in my headcanon of the Ministry. (Usually these lists are mostly made up of perfumes that I don’t actually have, but this time I can vouch for all of these! I didn’t include any that I thought weren’t good.)

For the sake of organization these are divided into places in the New Wing (the most recent addition to the Ministry), the Old Wing (the original Ministry buildings), and the grounds (gardens, forests, etc). And as always, if you have your own thoughts or want me to do more of this, please let me know! I would love to talk more about Ghost and perfume.

(also: so sorry for the weird formatting, idk how to fix it on mobile but it should be fine on desktop)

New Wing:

Library: old books, wood, dust, paper, ink

The library is part of the New Wing of the Ministry, although it’s not very new anymore. Built in the early 1900s, the New Wing is all soaring ceilings, stained glass windows, and intricate woodworking, done in the Art Nouveau style of the time. The library’s floor-to-ceiling shelves are full of books ranging from ancient esoteric tomes to modern fiction paperbacks, interspersed with desks and secluded reading nooks. The library also houses the Ministry’s private collection of artifacts - some occasionally used for ritual purposes, some purely academic in nature. The library is always very still, with the occasional susurrus of turning pages and quiet voices. It smells like polished wood, faint dust, and the leather and paper of old books. 

Library Ghost - Poesie 

marshmallows, books, ink, polished wood

Myself Invisible - Poesie 

stacked books, spilled ink, black tea, violets

Bibliotheca - Alkemia  

leather-bound books, vintage vinyl records, mahogany, fountain pen ink, black tea, plum brandy

Canoodling in the Library - Nui Cobalt  

old books, mahogany shelves, fallen leaves, ancient stone stairs, amber resin, warm skin musk, vetiver

Miskatonic University - Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab  

irish coffee, dusty tomes, polished oakwood halls

Personal Quarters: carved wood furniture, tea and coffee, soft bedding, books and clutter, spices, vanilla

The personal quarters are also in the New Wing, separated into human quarters and ghoul quarters (for everyone’s comfort and safety). The personal quarters tend to feel very cozy and lived-in, as they are the rooms most frequently used. The furniture is comfortable, often occupied by off-duty siblings or ghouls, and the arch windows overlooking the gardens and forest cast soft beams of light onto the wood floors in the afternoon. The siblings’ quarters tend to smell like the possessions of those who occupy them - books, scented candles, tea and coffee, and faint spices from the small kitchen. The ghouls’ quarters are similar, but with the scents of various elements - smoke, greenery, damp stone, fresh air, resin.

Mysterious Fossils - Poesie  

smoked black tea with creamy vanilla oat milk, a cashmere sweater, tortoiseshell glasses, a cedar chest containing fossils encased in amber, sandstone, and limestone

Whisper Your Bitter Things - Poesie  

pressed coffee beans, dried clove bud and cassia bark, jasmine, neroli, roasted vanilla pods

Grey Cat - Nui Cobalt  

smoked vanilla, marshmallows, fresh blueberries, lavender, earl grey tea

Kensington - Fantome  

earl grey tea, cashmere, vanilla bean, cedar, rose petals, mandarin zest, pink peppercorn, bergamot

Ouija - Possets  

cedar, rosewood, black vanilla, fat vanilla, rose, black silk, coriander

Our Days Bewitched - PULP Fragrance  

walnuts, brandy, roasted cocoa beans, copal, cardamom, labdanum, black vanilla, aged oak barrels

Old Wing:

Chapel: resinous incense, polished wood, wine, smoke

The chapel is part of the Old Wing. The exact dates of its construction could probably be found somewhere in the Ministry’s records, but the gothic architecture suggests it’s been there for at least 500 years. The cold grandeur of the exterior’s intricate stonework and vibrant stained glass windows is matched in the chapel. It is perpetually cold, made fully of elaborately carved stone, and colorful sunlight filters through the enormous stained glass windows onto the altar and the pews. The heavy, still air smells like residual incense smoke, snuffled candles, fragrant wood, and ritual wine.

Holy Terror - Arcana Wildcraft  

burning frankincense, sandalwood, myrrh, dusty beeswax candles

Anastasia the Patrician* - Deconstructing Eden

paper, ink, frankincense, myrrh, benzoin, copal, rose, juniper berries, wine

Leo* - Deconstructing Eden

frankincense, myrrh, benzoin, amber, liatrix, blood cedar, blond tobacco absolute, sweet spices, honey

Parlour - Fantome  

mahogany, rosewood, burning incense, vetiver

*i think these were discontinued? sorry

Crypt: cold damp stone, smoke, dust, ashes

The crypt is the only place in the Ministry that truly reflects its age. It feels like it has been standing, underground, inhabited only by the dead, for hundreds of years. It’s well-maintained, but perpetually freezing cold and slightly damp. The stone walls are minimally decorated, and the candles in their niches do very little to illuminate the cavernous space. The air is weighty, and all sound is muffled. The crypt smells like damp stone, cold air, sweet dust, and smoke.

Gargoyle - Nui Cobalt  

rain, lavender, cathedral incense, beeswax candles, ancient stone

Summoning/Ritual Chambers: cold stone, ritual incense, blood, wine, smoke

The ritual chambers are where summonings and rituals are performed. They are where every new ghoul comes into the world, and, more rarely, where they’re banished from it. The walls and floor are stone, and there are no windows. When in use, the chambers are lit by dozens of flickering candles, some in sconces, some piled onto tables, and years of melted wax have created puddles and formations on the walls and floor. The air is dense, thick with dust, herb smoke, ritual incense, and the scent of dried blood.

Baba Yaga - Fantome  

black and red musk, smoke, cracked bones, cardamom, wood, animal skins, mugwort

Conjure - Solstice Scents  

vanilla, amber, cedar, spices, cauldron smoke

Gothique - Alkemia  

frankincense, styrax benzoin, myrrh, cassia, spikenard, canella, liquidambar orientalis, labdanum, atlas cedar, vetiver

A City on Fire - Imaginary Authors  

cade oil, spikenard, cardamom, clearwood, dark berries, labdanum, a burnt match

Vassago - Fantome  

A silver dagger, red wine, blackberries, cloves, orange peel, blood, a black mirror

Grounds:

Gardens: dirt, greenery, sun, fruit, flowers

The Ministry sits on a huge expanse of land. Most of it is still wild and forested, but there is a good amount of it dedicated to gardens, both decorative and functional. 

Decorative Gardens:

The decorative gardens are lush and heavy with flowers and fresh greenery most of the year, tended to by the Earth ghouls. Some of them are small cloistered gardens, decorated with statues and fountains, and some are larger, intended for gatherings or wandering alone. The decorative gardens tend to smell like fragrant herbs and flowers - sweet jasmine and magnolia, heavy white lilies and heirloom roses. 

Basilica - Milano Fragranze 

thyme, rosemary, incense, milk, labdanum, cedarwood, cypriol oil

Fox in the Flowerbed - Imaginary Authors  

jasmine, tulips, frankincense, wildflower honey, pink peppercorns, silver thistle, alpine air

Isabella - Possets 

rose, light resin, white tea, honey, cream musk, spices

Olwyn - Fantome  

magnolia blossoms, white lilies, jasmine, gardenia, buttery vanilla, myrrh, benzoin, orange blossom

Silver Narcissus - Possets  

silver base, narcissus

Functional Gardens:

The functional gardens supply the flowers for decoration within the Ministry as well as the herbs and most of the produce for the kitchens. The gardens, orchards, and greenhouses are managed by the Earth ghouls, and yield so much produce that, despite the relatively small size of the gardens and the relatively large size of the Ministry, they still end up with extra. That surplus is sold at the local farmers’ market to unsuspecting humans who wonder in open amazement about the size and quality of this mysterious farm’s produce.

Sundrunk - Imaginary Authors  

neroli, rhubarb, honeysuckle, rose water, orange zest

Drider Crossing Guard - Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab  

dry, earthy fig, black pepper, nutmeg, black plum tea

Wilcox’s - Solstice Scents  

dry woods, fresh herbs, dried herbs, warm spices, sweet annie, sage, rosewood 

Lake: water, trees, evergreens, greenery, stone

The Ministry’s lake is very deep, cold, and still. It’s objectively beautiful, with its glassy blue-gray waters and lush vegetation, but something about it feels dangerous. The pebbled shores are visited only by the bravest siblings, and even then only on the hottest and most desperate of summer days. The water ghouls, on the other hand, love it (which is possibly why the siblings tend to stay away). It is located at the border between the new and old forests, and its mossy banks are surrounded by evergreens, ferns, and rushes. It smells green and a little salty.

Villa Diodati - Poesie  

wild rosemary, balsam pine, crystal clear lakewater, dry, dark vanilla

Every Storm a Serenade - Imaginary Authors  

danish spruce, eucalyptus, vetiver, calone, ambergris, baltic sea mist

The Forest: trees, dirt, damp air, greenery, wildflowers, fungi

New Forest:

The new forest is a nickname given to the shallow edges of the forest that are closest to the Ministry. The trees are widely spaced, and the ground is thickly carpeted with grasses and wildflowers. Sunlight filters easily through the sparse leaf canopy and illuminates the fallen logs and patches of moss that make popular spots for siblings and ghouls looking to unwind. The air is light, and the breeze carries with it the scent of fresh greenery, tree sap, and sweet flowers. 

Cape Heartache - Imaginary Authors  

douglas fir, pine resin, western hemlock, vanilla leaf, strawberry, old growth, mountain fog

Dendrophilia - Nui Cobalt  

moss-covered deadfall, birchwood and pine, lingering resins, sunlight through the leaves, a trace of woodsmoke, faint vetiver and cedar

Duende - Fantome  

oakmoss, cedar, fir, labdanum, benzoin, tree sap, wild violets, lilac

Solovey - Fantome 

black amber, violets, black currants, espresso, labdanum, black agarwood, tobacco

Old Forest:

If you go far enough into the new forest, you will eventually get to the old forest. The trees are bigger and closer together, the sunlight struggles to reach the ground, and there are more mushrooms than flowers. The air is damp and cool and smells like fungus, loam, and rotting leaves. The old forest is avoided by siblings both because of the unsettling watched feeling any human who enters feels and the unspoken knowledge that if you don’t come back out no one will go looking for you. 

Gaea - Alkemia  

forest loam, ferns, decaying leaves, lichen, wet stones

Dies Irae - Possets  

black musk, fog, bitter galbanum, hawthorn, rotting leaves, orris, smoky oude, frankincense, black amber

Feuillemort - Alkemia  

dying leaves, smoked autumnal spices, dried grasses and fungi, Tibetan incense, cedarwood, rum soaked agarwood, and borneol

Samhain - Haus of Gloi  

freshly turned earth, wet leaves, cold wind

if you made it this far 1) thank you lol and 2) i hope you enjoyed! if you have your own thoughts i would love to hear them!

[reinvent-and-believe]

Trick or Treat!!!

2 Geralt x Regis

2. ghost

ooooh, you picked one of the halloween-themed prompts! this is situated somewhere vaguely post-books/pre-blood and wine. happy halloween! 👻

—

Wraiths exist. Geralt’s dispensed with enough of them to know that better than most. Noonwraiths and nightwraiths and dozens of other spectral incarnations, all miserable, pitiable, dangerous creatures.

But ghosts? The essence of a person’s spirit, not broken and distorted beyond recognition but simply lingering, clinging to loved ones or providing comfort, signs, communication from beyond the grave? No. Those ghosts exist in only Dandelion’s songs, pretty tales to disguise ugly truth.

No, Geralt doesn’t believe in ghosts. But the autumn breeze in Metinna carries wormwood and sage and coriander and anise as it smooths over his skin like a caress, blows through his hair, surrounds him and fills his lungs.

Geralt doesn’t believe in ghosts, but wandering the streets of Oxenfurt, he hears a wry, pedantic voice in the distance lecturing about ethics and philosophy and history and the properties of wolfsbane. There’s no end to pompous men with wry, pedantic voices in Oxenfurt, but no matter how long he looks, he never finds that voice.

Geralt doesn’t believe in ghosts, but he takes a bite of soup at an inn in Kaedwen, and tastes silver bream and celery and onion, and he closes his eyes, lets the warmth from the soup heat every bit of him except the longing trapped beneath his ribs.

Geralt doesn’t believe in ghosts, but as he’s drifting to sleep in front of a small fire in a forest clearing not far from the Chotla, he feels a gentle pressure like a lover’s hand against his chest, then cold, careful fingers brushing his hair out of his face. When he opens his eyes, he’s alone. He closes them again, hoping against hope to feel it again.

He doesn’t believe in ghosts, but he sees Regis out of the corner of his eye in Metinna, in Oxenfurt, in Kaedwen, near the Chotla. Glimpses him in crowds and alone in the woods, a league away and just beside him, just a fleeting flash of grey hair and sharp black eyes.

Geralt doesn’t believe in ghosts, but he feels him, nonetheless.

[boombox-fuckboy]

Skyjacks - Some Birds

Some lionbirds in Skyjacks might be familiar (I imagine most people know what Lucas looks like) but others maybe less so, depending on where you're from. I like birds, so here's a few noteworthy and cool features:

Red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis)

Metatron, flown by Gable of The Uhuru

Wildfire, Yellow Audron general bird for the Swiftwell Courier Service

Grey-headed albatross (Thalassarche chrysostoma)

Flea, flown by Jonnit Kessler and Gable of The Uhuru

Red-breasted merganser (Mergus serrator)

Ferdinand, flown by Travis Matagot of The Uhuru

Banner, flown by Coriander Swiftwell of the Swiftwell Courier Service

Harpy Eagle (Harpia harpyja)

Aristocracy, showbird and jousting bird flown by Tiberius Youngblood of the Youngblood Family

Bountiful, Winter Stables warbird of The Swiftwell Courier Service

Saker falcon (Falco cherrug)

Augury, flown by June Hymnall, apprentice aboard the Swiftwell Courier Service's Red Audron

White-bellied go-away-bird (Crinifer leucogaster)

Obstinacy, flown by Fredrick Hawthorne, master all-courier to the Swiftwell Courier Service

Peregrine falcon (Falco peregrinus)

Victory, flown by Hidred Gastaur, pro jouster

Ghost, Autumn Stables warbird for the Swiftwell Courier Service

Great Horned Owl (Bubo Virginianus)

Agamemnon, flown by Fthina Vronti, Post Master General of the Swiftwell Courier Service

Choco toucan (Ramphastos brevis)

Royal, Red Audron general bird for the Swiftwell Courier Service

Pied kingfisher (Ceryle rudis)

Squall, flown by Braith Ashworth, all-courier for the Swiftwell Courier Service

[chloefrazer]

i was tagged by the gorgeous @latenna to do this associations with an oc template, thank you so much, aeris! ♡ i did this for my fledgling, mickey james, because i miss her so much, and it was wonderful getting back into her headspace.

i'm tagging: @nadineross, @brujah, @lexcanium, @dantesparda, @voerman, @elliewilliums, @katewalker, @gautiersylvain, & @abelas!

ANIMALS.

mountain lions, rattle snakes, rottweilers. animals with sharp claws and sharp fangs; that know how to bite back. her protean discipline gears more toward feline animals, as well.

COLOR.

dark red, like mulled wine. gun-metal gray. navy blue.

MONTH.

october; specifically the end of october. the time where her life ended and her unlife began. still fall, not quite winter, but the nights are getting longer and the days are getting shorter.

SONGS.

wonderful life, bring me the horizon ft. dani filth (alone, getting high on a saturday night, i'm on the edge of a knife). wolf blood, d'arcy spiller (i got wolf blood, i run better on my own). nightmare, pvris (fuck your california dreams, get away from me).

NUMBER.

27.

PLANTS.

larkspur, mulberry, nettle, rue.

SMELLS.

cigarette smoke, wet pavement after it rains, pine scented air freshener, leather, amber.

GEMSTONE.

smokey quartz.

TIME OF DAY.

midnight.

SEASON.

winter.

PLACES.

the santa monica pier, the last round, her office in downtown los angeles.

FOOD.

bar food, fast food. things that are cheap and easy to get. burgers, wings, and fries. especially fond of late night, greasy pizza.

DRINKS.

cheap beer, cherry coke, black coffee.

ELEMENT.

water.

SEASONINGS.

coriander, ginger, dill.

SKY.

dark gray storm clouds, overcast. when a storm is just about to hit.

WEATHER.

thunderstorms.

MAGICAL POWER.

shape-shifting, specially into animals. she's already drawn to protean and its respective powers, so this would be very natural to her.

WEAPONS.

claws, teeth, her bare hands.

CANDY.

anything cinnamon flavored; red hots, hot tamales. also very fond of red vines and peanut m&ms.

METHOD OF LONG DISTANCE TRAVEL.

public transport; grey hound buses, specifically. hitch-hiking, despite it being dangerous as all fuck.

ART STYLE.

abstract expressionism.

FEAR.

abandonment. imposter's syndrome. losing her newfound family that she found with the anarchs. loss of control and finding herself being a pawn for someone new.

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE.

not going for the obvious answer and saying vampire. gorgon.

PIECE OF STATIONARY.

a piece of notebook paper, with notes written in black ink. folded corners and torn in places. most likely stained with coffee.

THREE EMOJIS.

🐺⛓️💿

CELESTIAL BODY.

meteorite, crashing into the earth.

[shywhumpauthor]

Landline Part Three

Just Stay Put

Prev. || Masterlist

Cw: noncon touching, noncon drugging, implied noncon stripping (vague), kidnapping, intimate whumper, light abuse, gaslighting

An arm curled under their knees and another around their back, gently hefting them off the ground and against the stranger’s chest. If their wet clothes, the moments of contact soaking through the stranger’s pan bothered them at all, their expression didn’t betray it as their smile remained unwavering.

Coriander tried to speak, but their mouth didn’t even move as the stranger held them close, beginning to walk at a slow, calm pace down the hall.

No, no, no, what the hell was happening?!

The stranger carried them into a bathroom, a small half-bath with yellow lighting and green walls, gently setting them down against the wall. Their muscles seeming to have all gone limp, Coriander slumped, unable to do anything to support themself. For a few moments, they felt as if they were just waiting to pass out, but their consciousness continued to teeter just across that line of aware and not.

The stranger hummed to themself, a quiet, cheerful melody as they reached under the sink’s cabinet to grab a washcloth, dampening it under the tap before crouching by Coriander’s side and beginning to dab at the dirt and dried blood that stained their face, their touch gentle and ghosting.

“You poor thing, you must be so exhausted,” the stranger cooed softly, dragging the washcloth over a shallow scratch just above Coriander’s eyebrow. Unable to move anything but their eyes, Coriander’s gaze remained pinned on the stranger’s face, wide and frantic as they fought for control in a body that was no longer listening to their will. “We can clean the rest of you up tomorrow, but this will have to do for now…”

The stranger shifted their hold on the washcloth, using a fresh corner to swipe at the dirt blotched against Coriander’s cheek.

“You must be so stressed,” they continued, murmuring so quietly it was almost as if they were speaking to themself. “Don’t worry, doll, I’ll have you feeling good as new in no time.”

Coriander wasn’t sure when their mind finally decided it had had enough, their memory had already proven fuzzy enough for them to question the integrity of the true events that had taken place the night before, but next they were aware they were slowly blinking awake, body warm with something soft propped beneath their head.

A light weight pressed beneath their chin, the soft threads of a throw blanket tickling their neck as they shifted, fighting to free a hand from the blanket to press against their face. Their head throbbed with an intense pressure, aching terribly as even the soft light filtering from a nearby lamp was enough to make their eyes burn.

Shit…

With a groan and a tremendous effort, Coriander propped themself up on an elbow, the blanket that was tucked around their shoulders falling to their chest as they waited slowly for their vision to focus enough to make out the scene around them.

They were in a living room, laying on a soft couch in front of a burning hearth. The fireplace was made out of warm white bricks, accented nicely with the dark redwood mantle built above. There was a coffee table in front of the couch, within arms reach, and an end table to the side homing a lit lamp. The curtains were drawn across two large windows on the wall directly across from where Coriander faced, but through a small gap in the lacy fabric they could see the grey tinted forest outside, dark and dully lit.

And just in front of those windows, sitting in an armchair with their legs crossed, a book open in their hand, the stranger. Coriander didn’t think they made any noise, but the stranger’s eyes flicked up at just that moment, their gaze softening the moment it fell on Coriander’s face.

“Hey, sweetheart, I’m glad to see you awake,” the stranger smiled, closing their book without bothering to mark their page and setting it aside as they stood up. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink? Food?”

The bitter taste was back in their mouth, pressing against their tongue, sticking to their throat. The burn of tea, heating their chest with each swallow.

“Whh…” their tongue felt like cotton, stuffed in their mouth with no control. Throat dry and scratchy, words catching and tripping against the grit that seemed to coat their lungs. “Nn’h.. I- I nh’d to… t’ ged h’me..”

The stranger sighed, their smile faltering slightly as they moved to crouch besides the couch, reaching a hand towards Coriander’s face, which they clumsily batted away.

“Doll, you’re much too hurt to go anywhere. The storm hasn’t fully passed, either, it would truly be best if you just stayed and rested-”

“Nn-no,” Coriander repeated, pushing themself a bit further into the cushions as they tried to shrink from the stranger’s touch. “Don- don’t… get ah’wy- wh- whadd’yh do t’ me?!” Their words were grating, nearly incomprehensible with the slur brought on by their stiff, aching muscles.

“Oh dear, you must be so confused. I found you, passed out on my doorstep last night, all I did was bring you in and get you dried off.” The stranger spoke gently, lowering their hand, but Coriander didn’t miss how something hardened behind their eyes.

“No- no,” Coriander stammered, their mind spinning. “You- the tea-”

“Tea? I could get you some tea, if that’s what you’d like,” the stranger placed their hands on their knees, using that to push themself back to stand.

“No!” Coriander gasped, fighting to tug the blankets off of themself, trying to ignore the sickening twist in their gut as they realized that the shirt and sweatpants they now wore were certainly not the ones they had left work wearing the night before. “I- I want t’ go home-“

“Shhh,” the stranger hushed them, placing two hands against Coriander’s shoulders and gently but firmly pushing them back to lay against the couch. “Doll, you’re talking nonsense- you’re hurt, you have to rest.” They spoke insistently, the pressure against Coriander’s shoulders only increasing as they attempted to squirm away.

“Let- let go of me-” Coriander tried to push the arms away, but with their sensation still creeping back to their limbs, they couldn’t manage to muster enough force behind the movements to do anything other than annoy the stranger.

“Cory, stop.” Their voice went firm, grip tightening until they were practically leaning over them, their nails digging into Coriander’s skin through their shirt. Their breath hitched, eyes widening as their heart skipped. “You’re not thinking straight. You’re going to get yourself hurt if you don’t settle down.”

Something lurked behind their voice, like a serpent hiding beneath deep, dark waters, and Whumpee knew enough to go still. Their chest tightened around their lungs, hardening into stone, sealing their breath away.

“Good, good.” The stranger have a small nod, the intensity of their grip fading slightly as their tough turned gentle once more. “Just stay put, alright? I’ll go get you something to drink.”

——————————————

Oops it’s been a while since I’ve updated this. Someone’s gotta remind me like every week istg

Next

Tag list: @a-n-i-a-fan @itsmyworld23

[friday-tea]

Hey there! I'm running out of my stash of Bad News tea, and since it won't be back until the spring I figured I should ask the resident tea expert herself which blends might be a good substitute for that delicious smoky flavor c:

Oh frick yeah, I LOVE cross-seasonal palate curation!

Bad News, beloved of whiskey drinkers, leather-bound book enthusiasts, and romantics with a particular fondness for vampires and charcoal sketch portraits, is boldly smoky with a balanced underbelly of bitter root and silky floral.

You may also enjoy:

Summer in Seattle (petrichor-forward green tea with rose & a pop of hibiscus, summer rotation)

Oh, Rose (creamy-dreamy vanilla rose white tea with gold edible glitter, summer rotation)

High Vemme Vanity (smoke & cream black tea with flowers, summer rotation)

The Khal (black & green with smoke & peppercorn, summer & fall rotations)

The Pirate King (smoke & booze black tea, fall rotation)

The Key (smoked pomegranate black & white tea, fall rotation)

Sweet Vengeance (roasted oolong with smoke and spice and cacao, fall rotation)

Queen of Hearts (breakfast style black tea with rose and peppercorn, fall rotation)

O-Negative (black & red tea with chicory, rose & coriander, fall rotation)

VII. For the Blossom (roasted oolong with every flowers, fall rotation)

Modern ProTEAtheus (roasted green tea with roots & flowers, fall rotation)

Hearthfire (warming spices in roasted oolong, winter rotation)

Frog Friend (yaupon holly, clove, touch of smoke and peaflower, winter rotation)

Starship Iris (smoked violet earl grey with peppercorn, year-round)

Silk & Thorn (sexy roasted oolong with rose, ginger, vanilla oil and glitter, year-round)

Shadow Self (rosemary & raspberry leaf on smokey aged tea, year-round)

Womb of Doom (spicy choco-chili flowers and smoke in black tea, year-round)

When in doubt, you can search the site by ingredient to see what hidden treasures you happen upon!

xoxo, Friday