#Read a book or some poetry under a tree

[distant--shadow]

you lot have been leaving the loveliest notes in the tags on my last picture, so thank you so much for that.

this one in particular hurts. here's hoping!

[solxamber]

How Not to Court Your Crush: A Disaster in Six Acts - Malleus Draconia x reader

You're trying to court Malleus so why is he acting so weird? Malleus is trying to court you, so why are you acting so weird.

aka you try fae courtship and malleus tries human courtship, you both fail spectacularly.

Scene 1: The Offering of... Chaos?

You were determined. Absolutely, one hundred percent determined to win over Malleus Draconia’s heart the fae way. You’d done your research—well, half-researched. You might’ve skimmed some books. Okay, maybe you watched some video where a guy talked about it for 10 minutes. But still! You were ready to tackle fae courting, head-on.

Which is why you were standing in the middle of the campus courtyard holding a potted mandrake. Because, according to some source (you couldn’t quite remember which), gifting rare plants was a surefire way to court a fae prince.

Unfortunately, no one told you that the mandrake in question would scream like a banshee as soon as you yanked it out of the dirt.

"Behold!" You shouted, thrusting the potted terror toward Malleus, who had appeared in his usual fashion—stealthy and majestic, like a dragon perching on a mountain. "A rare gift for the noble Prince of Briar Valley!"

The mandrake, in all its wailing glory, let out a soul-piercing shriek. Nearby students flung themselves behind trees and bushes. Sebek fainted. Silver, as usual, napped through the chaos.

Malleus blinked at you. Once. Twice. His face was a mixture of confusion and slight amusement. "Are you... trying to summon something?"

You frowned. "Summon? No! This is for you!" You held the screaming mandrake higher, like an offering to some ancient god. "As a... token of my appreciation! You like plants, right?"

The mandrake let out a final, particularly blood-curdling scream before going silent, wilting slightly in the pot. Malleus blinked once. Twice. “I... do like plants, yes. But usually... not ones that wish to harm me.”

You grinned, proud of your extremely thoughtful choice. “Well, this one just has personality!”

Malleus cautiously took the pot from you, staring down at the now exhausted mandrake. “Thank you,” he said, sounding unsure if you were joking or being sincere. “I’ll... treasure it.”

Somewhere in the distance, Ace and Deuce exchanged pitying looks. “Man,” Ace muttered, “he doesn’t deserve this.”

Scene 2: The Worst Poem Ever Written

Malleus had been doing his own research—much more thorough than yours, of course. He’d read books. Lots of them. Mostly ancient tomes from his castle library that were centuries old. After all, human courting customs couldn’t have changed that much, right?

His plan was foolproof: Humans enjoyed poetry. Therefore, he would craft you the most beautiful, heart-stopping poem ever written, and your affection for him would blossom like the midnight roses of Briar Valley.

He found you sitting under a tree near the school, probably recovering from your last spectacular fae courting attempt (the less said about the mandrake incident, the better). Malleus approached with all the grace of a dark prince, his black cloak billowing in the wind, carrying a scroll in his hand.

"Dearest," he began, as you looked up from your phone. "I have composed a poem for you. An ode to your beauty and grace."

Your eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yes. Please, allow me." He unfurled the scroll dramatically.

You sat back, intrigued. This was either going to be a disaster or absolute gold. Either way, you were ready.

Malleus cleared his throat, then began to read with all the gravitas of a Shakespearean actor:

"Your hair, like the moss that grows on the oldest tombstones,

Your eyes, like the deepest, darkest, creepiest of wells,

Your voice, as soothing as the distant scream of a lost soul..."

You snorted. "What?"

"Your beauty is like the moon, that I can never reach, because it is in the sky... far away... and also made of rock." He paused, glancing at you hopefully. “Do you like it so far?”

You bit your lip, desperately trying not to laugh. "Um... It's... something. Keep going."

Malleus beamed. "There’s more!"

"Your hands, soft like the belly of a small woodland creature..." He continued, and you finally lost it, howling with laughter. “Is it not... moving?”

You waved your hands, barely able to breathe through your giggles. "Malleus! Are you... Are you serious?!"

“I thought humans liked dark poetry,” he said, looking genuinely concerned.

“Well, some do, but—” You stopped yourself, trying not to laugh. “No, wait, keep going. I want to hear more.”

Malleus, relieved, continued. “Your beauty is like the full moon—cold, distant, and surrounded by darkness.”

Somewhere behind a nearby tree, Lilia was biting his lip to stop from laughing, while Ace and Deuce shared looks of absolute pity for their friend and Malleus.

Ace shook his head. “Poor guy. He’s trying so hard.”

Scene 3: The... Ambush?

Since the plant-gifting thing didn’t go quite as planned, you decided that maybe a more public display of affection would be the ticket. According to something you half-remembered (and maybe misunderstood), fae really appreciated grand gestures of intent. So, naturally, you chose the school cafeteria at lunchtime as your stage.

As you climbed on top of a table, all eyes turned toward you. Malleus sat at a corner table, watching you with his usual calm, collected demeanor, but you could see the confusion in his eyes.

"Prince Malleus!" you shouted dramatically, lifting your arms in the air. “I declare before all of these witnesses that I shall offer this to you!”

The cafeteria fell into dead silence. Well, except for Lilia, who was quietly choking on his laughter in the background.

Malleus blinked, his expression unreadable. “You... what?”

"Yes! I offer you—" you pulled out the cabbage you’d swiped from the kitchen earlier—"this symbol of my devotion!"

Malleus stared at the cabbage in your hands. "Is that... a vegetable?"

“Yes! It’s a sign of fertility or... something.” You weren’t entirely sure, but it sounded right. “I picked it myself!”

Malleus blinked again, clearly trying to process this information. “I... appreciate the gesture."

Lilia butts in. "Beastie, I’m afraid cabbages aren’t typically used in fae courting rituals.”

You pouted, hopping off the table. “What? But I read that—"

“Perhaps... next time, try flowers?”

Behind you, Ace facepalmed. “Oh, man. They're hopeless.”

Scene 4: The Gift of... Dirt?

Malleus was now absolutely convinced that something was seriously wrong with you. You seemed... more chaotic than usual, and while he enjoyed your enthusiasm, he had no idea why you were suddenly thrusting vegetables at him.

In his effort to reciprocate (and maybe figure out what was going on), he decided to give you a gift of his own. A very special one. From his homeland.

After all, humans liked sentimental gifts, right?

That’s why, one morning, he approached you with a small velvet pouch in his hand, his face filled with sincerity. “Child of Man, I have something for you.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, curious. “What’s that?”

He handed you the pouch, and you opened it, only to find... dirt. Black, slightly glittery dirt.

You stared at it. Then at him. Then back at the dirt. “Is this... dirt?”

“Yes,” Malleus said proudly. “From Briar Valley. It’s a very special soil, infused with the magic of my homeland.”

You blinked. “You got me dirt.”

“Very magical dirt,” he corrected, as if that made it better.

You bit back a laugh, trying to keep a straight face. “Um... thanks?”

Ace, watching from a distance, nudged Deuce. “Man, They're gonna end up with a garden at this rate.”

Scene 5: The Unnecessary Duel

Clearly, you had been doing something wrong, because your attempts at fae courtship had been met with nothing but polite confusion. But you were nothing if not determined. The next step in your (completely misguided) strategy? Prove your strength in battle. Duh.

You marched up to Malleus one afternoon, sword in hand, and pointed it at his chest. "Malleus Draconia! I challenge you to a duel!"

Malleus blinked at you, clearly baffled. “A duel? With... me?”

“Yes!” you declared, brandishing the sword with a flourish. “I shall prove myself worthy of your admiration through combat!”

Malleus tilted his head. “You... wish to fight me?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! To the death! Or until someone taps out. Whatever works.”

Malleus looked utterly bewildered but amused. “I... see. But are you sure this is necessary?”

"Absolutely. I need to show you my strength." You tried to strike a dramatic pose, but the sword was way heavier than it looked.

Lilia, perched nearby, was barely containing his laughter. “Oh, this is too good.”

Malleus raised his hand. “Perhaps another time. I would not want to harm you.”

You frowned. “Harm me? Pfft. I’m tougher than I look, dragon boy.”

Scene 6: The Romantic Walk—Through a Thunderstorm

Malleus had one last idea. Humans, he’d read, liked romantic walks. That was simple, right? No vegetables. No poetry. Just a quiet stroll. What could possibly go wrong?

Unfortunately, he decided to take you for a walk through the forest on a day when the sky decided to unleash the full wrath of a thunderstorm. And because he was a fae, storms didn’t bother him.

You, on the other hand, were not a fan of being drenched to the bone.

The rain came down in sheets, lightning crackling overhead as you both trudged through the mud. You tried to keep your umbrella steady, but the wind whipped it inside out almost immediately.

“Malleus,” you called over the storm, shouting to be heard. “Why are we walking in this? Are you trying to drown me?”

Malleus, entirely unfazed by the downpour, turned to you, his face serious. “I thought a walk through nature would be a calming experience for you.”

You stared at him, your hair sticking to your face, clothes soaked through, and boots filled with mud. “Calming?! I’m about to be struck by lightning!”

He blinked, as if only now realizing the storm might be an issue for you. “Ah, I see. Humans are... more susceptible to storms. My apologies.”

“Ya think?” You huffed, clutching your now-ruined umbrella. “A ‘romantic stroll’ usually involves good weather.”

Malleus frowned, looking genuinely troubled. “I thought the power of the storm would inspire awe.”

“Yeah, it’s inspiring me to run back inside.” You sighed, shivering. “This is... sweet, I guess. But, uh, maybe next time we check the weather before planning any ‘romantic’ activities?”

As you struggled to wipe rain from your face, you caught a glimpse of Lilia again—he was standing under a tree, dry as could be, watching the scene unfold with glee. His mischievous grin practically radiated from the shadows.

“You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?” you shouted toward him, but Lilia just waved, clearly loving the chaos.

Malleus, still deep in thought about his failed attempt at human courtship, suddenly looked serious. “Perhaps a different form of human bonding is needed next time.”

Behind you, Ace and Deuce were trailing a safe distance away, both dripping wet but trying to keep from laughing too loudly.

“Man,” Ace muttered, shaking his head. “They're gonna give the poor guy a heart attack one day.”

Deuce nodded solemnly. “Or he’ll get us all killed.”

After days of mutual confusion and failed courtship rituals, you found yourself, once again, sitting with Malleus in one of the school’s many quiet courtyards.

“Y’know,” you began, squinting at him. “I feel like you’ve been acting weird lately.”

Malleus gave you a similar look. “I’ve been thinking the same about you.”

You blinked. “Wait, me? What do you mean?”

“Well,” Malleus said, his brow furrowed, “you’ve been offering me... odd gifts. Vegetables. Challenging me to duels. Declaring intentions in public spaces. It’s... unusual.”

You froze. “That’s... fae courtship. I’ve been trying to... y’know...”

Malleus’ eyes widened. “You’ve been attempting to court me?”

Your face flushed. “Well, yeah! I thought you were acting strange, so I figured you were waiting for someone to, I don’t know, woo you.”

Malleus’ confusion quickly shifted to amusement. “I’ve been trying to court you this whole time.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re what?!”

“I believed you were in distress, so I attempted human courting rituals. Clearly, they didn’t go as planned.”

You both stared at each other for a long moment, the realization of mutual failure sinking in. Then, unexpectedly, you burst out laughing, and Malleus, after a moment, chuckled too.

“Well,” you managed between laughs, “we really suck at this.”

“Indeed,” Malleus agreed, his eyes warm with amusement. “Perhaps next time, we should... communicate better.”

“Yeah,” you said, wiping a tear from your eye. “That might help.”

From a safe distance, Lilia watched, his face beaming with pride. “Ah, young love,” he sighed dramatically. “How wonderfully chaotic.”

Ace shook his head, utterly done with the entire situation. “They’re hopeless.”

Deuce nodded in agreement. “At least it’s finally over... right?”

They're so stupid (affectionate)

Masterlist

[returnsandreturns]

Crowley’s teased Aziraphale for centuries about not reading books exclusively because he likes the little crease he gets between his eyebrows when he doesn’t like how Crowley is behaving. He rarely gets to see it these days and it doesn’t show up as much as you’d think with some of the behaving Crowley does but the second he lounges against a shelf and says, “Dunno why you waste your time with all these books when television exists,” he’s sure to catch a glimpse of it. 

“They do the reading for you, angel,” he says. “And there’s–explosions and things. You know, ka-boom.”

He makes a little exploding motion with his hands and Aziraphale levels him with a look that would immediately scare off a mere mortal who just wanted to casually browse in a bookshop with an open sign right on the door. 

“This feels like blasphemy,” he says, “and I won’t have it in my bookshop.” 

“Oh, you let me blaspheme all the time until it’s about books,” Crowley says, trying not to smile too hard when Aziraphale’s glare turns into a pout. 

There’s an inevitability to books, though, with the amount of free time he’s created for himself and the amount of time he spends adjacent to them. He’ll leave the bookshop with paperbacks shoved in his back pocket, hidden by his jacket, always half expecting the angel to catch him as he’s leaving. His reaction would have been so complicated. Stealing is bad but reading is good. That’s the kind of black and white thinking you're taught upstairs. The gray of whether the virtue of reading overrides the sin of stealing is something Aziraphale is good at. A little puzzle that ends with the answer being libraries or politely asking.

The jig is up when Aziraphale happens upon him in the park, sprawled out under a tree with a copy of Tipping the Velvet, so engrossed in it that he doesn’t even notice until Aziraphale is standing over him. 

“Shit,” Crowley says, startled, dropping the book. “Since when do you loom?” 

“Since when do you read?” Aziraphale asks, like he’s just been given the most delightful gift he’s ever received. 

“. . .I steal,” Crowley says, sitting up on his elbows and raising his eyebrows. “From an angel’s bookshop, which is, I assume, doubly a sin. If I happen to glance through my stolen goods, that’s my business.”  

“Crowley,” Aziraphale says, warmly, sitting a shopping bag down before moving to sit next to him. “Are there many paperbacks on my bookshelves?” 

“. . .just the occasional one lying around, I suppose,” Crowley says, suspiciously. 

“And why do you suppose that?” Aziraphale prompts. 

“. . .did you trick me into literacy?” Crowley asks, gasping.

“I merely placed books I thought you might enjoy around for you to make the choice,” Aziraphale says, adorably pleased with himself.

“Well, that’s familiar,” Crowley says, laughing. “You tempted me into literacy.” 

“Do you like this one?” Aziraphale asks, ignoring that and picking up the book, the broken spine immediately healing under his touch.

“I might,” Crowley says, defensively, then groans. “Oh, fuck, I lost my page.” 

“I miracled a bookmark before it hit the ground,” Aziraphale says, handing it back to him, and Crowley flips it open to see a black bookmark embossed with his initials and a lovely snake pattern, laughing.

“Satan help me,” he says, smiling at him, “but I kind of like this side of you. Bit of petty mischief. It’s cute.” 

“. . .could I tempt you into something else, perhaps?” Aziraphale asks, slowly. 

“Lunch?” Crowley asks. 

Instead of answering, Aziraphale reaches out to cup his cheek and kiss him, soft at first but then Crowley kisses him back, trying to hold back the impulses of thousands of years worth of not kissing Aziraphale as Aziraphale presses him down into the grass. 

Of course it was books that finally did it. 

“If I’d taken your suggestion to read all those poetry books you were pushing on me back in the eighteenth century, would you have done this then?” he asks, when they finally take a break. 

“Well, darling, if you must know, they were love poems,” Aziraphale says, despairingly, starting to sit up again until Crowley drags him back on top of him.

“I’ll read any poem you want, angel,” he says, hushed, “just don’t stop.” 

“Dangerous thing to say, darling,” Aziraphale says, kissing him softly on the forehead.

[elizaleclerc]

you’re good to me 🎨

lando norris x reader

summary: perfectionist painter!reader & poet lando enjoy a relaxing day in their apartment

song: wasteland, baby! by hozier

author’s note: lando reads a poem he wrote (part of the hozier song lol) and you paint something beautiful. neither of you can truly see the beauty of your own work.

word count: 1.4k

You sat in a comfortable cross-legged position on the carpet of your living room. Your back was slightly curved as you delicately maneuvered the bristles of your paintbrush across the canvas propped on the easel before you. With each stroke, you lost yourself in the colors and textures, creating a masterpiece with every dip into the paint. Lando lounged effortlessly on the couch nearby. His book of poetry lay open on his lap as he drifted between reading and writing his own verses, occasionally glancing over at your focused form with admiration.

As you meticulously adjusted the details of your painting, Lando watched you with rapt attention. His eyes traced every movement of your fingers as they delicately flicked and swirled, expertly mixing colors on the palette before you. A small smirk played at his lips, knowing how much you loathed having your hair fall in front of your face while you worked, but he couldn't help but find it endearing. Despite the messiness of your pulled back hair, you were a vision of determination and grace as you poured your soul onto the canvas before you. The room was filled with the subtle scent of paint, creating a serene atmosphere that enveloped both of you in its embrace.

You almost forgot Lando was in the room with how hard you were concentrating and how lost in your own work you got. Your mind had become an amalgamation of paint swirls and the fleeting visions you had for the finished product. You'd pause in your work, tilting your head to the side as if listening for a whisper from the canvas. Your eyes would narrow in concentration, searching for any missing touches that could bring the painting to life. Speckles of dried paint adorned your hands and lower arms, an accidental splattering of colors and textures from your passionate strokes. Some droplets even found their way onto your jeans.

After roughly three hours you emitted a sigh, “I hate it.” You proclaimed, dropping your brush in the water cup with frustration. 

“What?” Lando replied, his voice filled with disbelief as he shifted to get a better view of your work. It was a painting unlike anything he had ever seen before. The landscape seemed to stretch on for miles, depicting a fantastical realm that existed only in dreams. Cobblestone steps, now aged and overgrown with moss, wound their way up to towering trees with branches adorned in shades of blue and purple. A sense of magic emanated from the painting, transporting Lando to another world entirely. “Love, this is exquisite,” he breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from the mesmerizing scene before him.

You rolled your eyes in frustration, the words dripping with disappointment. "You always say that," you muttered under your breath. The painting before you felt off, no matter how much you added or changed. The colors, once vibrant and full of life, now seemed dull and lifeless. You let out a heavy sigh and pushed yourself up from the floor, walking over to the kitchen sink to wash off the paint from your hands. As the water splashed against your skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of defeat. All that hard work, all those hours spent perfecting every brushstroke, and it still wasn't good enough. You considered tossing the painting altogether, feeling disheartened by its lack of beauty.

Lando couldn’t believe the words that came out of your mouth. “You must be joking.” He almost laughed, “I think you’d be the only person on the planet to hate this painting.”

You walked over to him lounging on the couch, his notebook resting on his broad chest. The warm glow of the sun filtered through the large windows, casting a golden halo around his head. His tousled brown curls lay playfully on his forehead, and his tanned skin was like honey. He motioned for you to join him on the couch, and without hesitation, your body molded to his as if they were made to fit together. Your chest pressed firmly against his side, and your arms naturally draped over his toned torso. From this close distance, you could admire every tiny detail of his face - the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the slight dimple in his cheek, and the gentle curve of his lips as he focused on his notebook. You couldn't help but feel a rush of love and admiration for this man who captivated you with just a mere glance.

Your body rose and fell in sync with his breath, a gentle rhythm that calmed your frustration over the failed canvas beside you. “May I share something with you?” He asked in a hushed tone, flipping through the pages of his worn notebook.

“Always, my love,” You grinned, anticipating the words he was about to share. Lando had a way of weaving you into each of his pieces, making every poem and story feel like a love letter written just for you. Over the years as partners, he had slowly but surely merged your essence into all of his work.

All the fear and the fire of the end of the world / Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl / Happens great, happens sweet / Happily, I’m unfazed here too. / Wasteland, baby, I’m in love, I’m in love with you 

Your lips curled into a smile as you listened to his poetry, savoring each carefully crafted word that flowed effortlessly from his mind and onto the page. It was like a river of beauty and emotion, twisting and turning through your thoughts as you marveled at his ability to weave such intricate and poignant verses.

All the things yet to come are the things that have passed / Like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass / Like the bonfire that burns / At all worth in the fight fell too / Wasteland, baby, I’m in love, I’m in love with you 

“That’s breathtaking Lando, truly.” You look into his gorgeous gaze as your hands rested on his chest.

"Do you really think so?” He questioned, his critical eye scanning over his own work. And in that moment, you realized just how much of perfectionists the two of you were. Never satisfied with your own creations, always searching for flaws and imperfections. But in each other's eyes, the flaws were transformed into a unique kind of beauty, every word and brush stroke telling a story of its own.

“I know so,” you whispered, leaning closer to him. As his lips met yours, a surge of electricity shot through your body, causing your heart to flutter and your stomach to do somersaults. In that moment, you were painfully aware of how deeply in love you were with him - with his mind, his touch, the way he loved you back with such fierce passion. A million stars seemed to explode around you as you lost yourself in his touch.

As you basked in the warmth of his embrace, his lips traced a path of delicate kisses along your neck and collarbone. His breath was sweet with the scent of vanilla and cinnamon, intoxicating your senses. Lost in the moment, you couldn't help but smile and revel in the feeling of complete contentment.

With a smirk on his face, he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. "How did I get so lucky with you?" he asked, his words dripping with adoration.

You returned his gaze, feeling your heart swell with love for him. "Some may say it's fate," you replied softly. But as you melted under his touch and the sound of his voice, you knew that it was something much deeper than mere chance.

It was a force stronger than any other, binding the two of you together in an unbreakable bond.

[aurummarie]

Self-Care Sunday

Self-care is about prioritizing your well-being and doing things that make you feel good. Feel free to adjust the routine to best suit your preferences and needs. Here's a step-by-step guide:

Step 1: Set the Mood Create a relaxing environment by dimming the lights and playing soothing music. Light some scented candles or use essential oils to enhance the ambiance.

Step 2: Morning Meditation or Stretching Start your self-care Sunday with a short meditation session to clear your mind and set positive intentions for the day. Alternatively, indulge in gentle stretching or yoga to awaken your body.

Step 3: Skincare Ritual Begin with a gentle cleanse to refresh your skin. Follow up with a hydrating mask or a DIY face mask using natural ingredients like honey and yogurt. Take this time to pamper your skin and give it some much-needed love.

Step 4: Nourishing Breakfast Prepare a nutritious and delicious breakfast. Consider options like a smoothie bowl, whole grain pancakes, or avocado toast. Incorporate fruits, veggies, and protein to fuel your body for the day ahead.

Step 5: Journaling or Creative Expression Spend some time journaling your thoughts, goals, or things you're grateful for. Alternatively, engage in a creative activity you enjoy, like painting, drawing, or writing poetry.

Step 6: Relaxing Bath or Shower Take a soothing bath with Epsom salts, bath oils, or your favorite bubble bath. If you prefer a shower, use a fragrant body wash or scrub to refresh your skin. Consider playing calming music or listening to a podcast as you unwind.

Step 7: Hair Care Dedicate time to your hair care routine. Whether you're deep conditioning, trying out a new hairstyle, or simply giving your hair a break from styling, make it a moment of self-care.

Step 8: Mindful Reading or Learning Spend time reading a book that inspires you or teaches you something new. This could be a novel, a self-help book, or an article related to a topic you're passionate about.

Step 9: Nature Connection If possible, spend time outdoors in nature. Whether it's a walk in the park, sitting under a tree, or simply breathing in fresh air on your balcony, connecting with nature can be incredibly rejuvenating.

Step 10: DIY Spa Time Set up a DIY spa area and treat yourself to a manicure, pedicure, or both. Use a luxurious scrub and follow up with your favorite nail polish for a polished look.

Step 11: Mindful Eating For lunch, prepare a balanced meal that includes a variety of colors and nutrients. Eat slowly and mindfully, savoring each bite.

Step 12: Positive Affirmations Spend a few minutes reciting positive affirmations in front of a mirror. Remind yourself of your worth, strength, and beauty.

Step 13: Creative Cooking or Baking If you enjoy cooking or baking, spend some time in the kitchen preparing a special treat or a new recipe you've been wanting to try.

Step 14: Wind-Down Yoga or Stretching As the day comes to an end, engage in a gentle wind-down yoga session or some gentle stretches to relax your body before bedtime.

Step 15: Relaxing Bedtime Routine Wrap up your self-care Sunday with a calming bedtime routine. This could involve reading a few pages of a book, practicing deep breathing, or using a soothing lavender-scented mist on your pillow.

Remember, the most important thing is to tailor this routine to your preferences and make it a day that feels special and rejuvenating for you. Enjoy your self-care Sunday!

[dragon-ascent]

residing in a teapot with zhongli 🥹 wanting to get away from the world and reality only for him to remind you that "well isn't it convenient that we've created our own little world, darling?" and he conjures your teapot and you gleefully enter it together and he'd be happy to stay with you in there for as long as you want 🥹🥹🥹

Oh how lovely it would be! Sitting under a glimmering tree, sipping tea while chatting about anything and everything...time does not pass here, so leisure is welcome.

You run across the golden bridges connecting each island, inviting Zhongli to chase you - the thrill casts all worries away into the wind. He’d catch you in a field of glittering starlit flowers, laughing as you two roll around in the grass, seeing crystalflies flutter off startled.

And of course the mansion is big and furnished with all your favorite things, making it as homely as the real world. You two would sit on the bed or on the couch by the fireplace, reading the enthralling books and poetry this realm has to offer and quoting your favourite parts.

You'd tell Zhongli all about your travels and the stories behind some of the special furnishings; Zhongli would listen intently even if this is his tenth time hearing it, asking you questions you're more than happy to answer, and praising you when praise is due - which in his opinion is all the time.

Oh and here are some pictures from my own teapot that I think would be nice to spend time with Zhongli at~

I have a silly teapot-centric piece in my drafts actually! Thinking I'll bump it up my priority list :]

[stergeon]

spending some more time chewing on the concept of byleth and edelgard constantly writing each other letters—both while one of them is off traveling and also when they're both at home and seeing each other every day. there's one on the emperor's desk in her study; one in byleth's storage locker in the barracks; one left on a pillow or slipped into a pocket or tucked into a book the other is reading.

the emperor is interrupted during a big meeting by a page delivering a "most crucial missive from the commander." she unseals it in front of everyone and it's a crude drawing of a smiley face that says "hello i love you"

edelgard would write these excessively verbose things, very heavy on the poetry and flowery language. there are a couple paragraphs of updates and then page after page after page of "i love you"s and "i miss you"s communicated in ten thousand different and increasingly grandiloquent ways. byleth has learned to bring a dictionary along on her trips so she can decode all the sesquipedalian nightmare terms edelgard uses to tell her she's pretty. most letters start and end with an implied threat that if anyone other than byleth reads it or finds out how soft the emperor is, there will be hell to pay, but it doesn't stop her from proceeding to go ham on the romantic sappiness.

meanwhile byleth's letters are. pretty straight and to the point. she's keeping her posted about the weather, about this dog that she met, about a cool tree she saw, and transcribing direct quotes and best wishes from their friends. but she also includes little mementos she picked up or shiny things she found (she's like a crow with pretty rocks, shells, and baubles), and presses flowers that she thinks edelgard will like, and attempts to sketch things she wishes edelgard got to see with her. it's painfully obvious that byleth will never have an artistic career, but edelgard adores every single drawing all the same.

(hubert made a suggestion to have the emperor and her adviser use different seals or envelopes for their personal and official correspondence. this was accepted as reasonable. several months later, edelgard found out he made the suggestion after the third instance in which he'd been doing his secretarial duties and responding to the emperor's mail, only to find the message from the emperor's adviser did not, in fact, contain the woman's latest report on the situation in fhirdiad or fodlan's locket, but a rather lurid list of her intentions for the emperor upon returning home to enbarr. one contained a diagram. hubert did not examine it.)

edelgard, who hoards every paper she's ever had reason to touch and who has a (frankly, pathological) filing system for everything in her life, has a special container for byleth's letters that is under lock and key. byleth, who lived out of a rucksack for most of her life and constantly had to consider carry weight when vetting her few belongings, doesn't really know how to... have... things. she struggled with toting around all this paper for a while, but couldn't bear to toss out even the simplest "meet me at 4pm for the council meeting" message. she had to make peace with the concept of using a drawer for something like long-term storage and frequently checks to make sure they're all still there.

both of them keep their favorite ones in the back of their respective journals and act like they're not so extremely, terminally soft on each other.

[disasterchild20]

Dating Him Would Include

James

Him showing off with a snitch

Stealing his hoodies, especially his quidditch one, and him loving it

“You comfy, Love?”

“Very… plus it smells like you.”

Cuddles. Lots of them

Always makes sure that pranks won’t get you

The marauders teasing him for it

Is always touching you in some way. Whether it be holding your hand, or gently brushing arms

Always checking in on you when he sees you, asking how your day has been or if you need something

Surprising you randomly with small gifts; flowers, chocolates, ect

Sirius

I’m always serious jokes

Arm always round you

“Siri, can you please be serious for one minute?”

“But, Darling, I’m always Sirius.”

Likes it when you play with his hair

Gets you to do his eyeliner

Randomly pulls you onto his lap, burying his face in your neck

Loves it when you ramble about what you’re passionate about

You wearing his quidditch jersey on game days and not giving it back

Painting each others nails

Remus

Sharing books and reading them together

Reading aloud to each other

Stealing his sweaters

Him pulling you into his chest when you’re sitting on the sofa together

Burying his face in your hair

“Is that my sweater?”

“…maybe…”

Eating chocolate in his dorm together

Telling him he could never be a monster

Nose kisses

Peter

Cuddles. Lots and lots of cuddles

Raising his sweet draw in his dorm

Him cuddling into your chest/neck

“I’m bored.”

“Okay… you want cuddles, don’t you?”

Loves you running your hands through his hair

Will kiss your cheek every time he sees you

Loves making you blush

Marauders all calling him a love sick puppy

Always asks for your help with homework or revision just to spend time with you

Evan

Always needing to be touching you in some way

Wraps his arms round you from behind and burying his face in your neck

Neck kisses

Him lying on you for cuddles

“You’re always so warm.”

“And you’re always so cuddly.”

“You playing with his rings

Love playing with your hair

Sneaks into the kitchen with you to bake cookies with you

Gets you flowers every weekend

Regulus

Speaks French to you

Forehead kisses

Let’s you draw on his hands and arms

“What are you drawing today, mon ami/e?”

“Stars and flowers, they represent you and me.”

Him letting you paint his nails, returning the favour

Takes you star gazing, telling you what stars are where and the stories behind them - making you wear his quidditch jumper if it’s cold

Writes you poetry, slipping them into your books

Links pinkies on the table when sat with you

Loves you playing with his curls

Barty

Loves putting his face in your neck when cuddling

Let’s you choose what earring he wears that day

Loves it when you read to him

Interested in your rambles

“Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, continue, I’m interested.”

Writes little notes and slips them into your pockets or bag

Let’s you do his makeup

Makes sure you’re eating while revising or doing homework

Asks your opinion on his outfits

Severus

Takes time to explain the theory behind potions to you

Loves holding hands

Plays with your fingers

Studying under trees together

“Told you this place is a perfect place to study.”

“It is, thank you for bringing me here.”

Blushes whenever you kiss his cheek

Sneaks snacks into your bag

Legs touching when sat together

Compare notes after class to see if the other has something different

Frank

Rambles about different plants

Let’s you name his plants

“This is Sally.”

“Okay, Sally can go between Brian and Samantha.”

Knuckle kisses whenever you’re holding hands

Gives you a flower everyday for two weeks leading up to your birthday

Helps you with Herbology if you need it

Buys you a small plant because you like helping him with his

Napping together

Cuddly when sleepy

[smutracha]

Vellichor I

Mafia!SKZ Yandere!SKZ afab!reader POLY!SKZ 

tw: violence, blood, guns, knives, nicotine, drug abuse, alcohol, ptsd

Vol 1 Vol 2 Vol 3 Vol 4 Vol 5 Vol 6 Vol 7 Vol 8 Vol 9 Vol 10 Vol 11 Vol 12 Vol 13

Third person POV:

Y/n loved the smell of this little bookstore she visited every Saturday and Sunday afternoon, the smell of coffee wafting past her as she sat under the magnificent cherry blossom tree with her new book of the week. This same tree that had sheltered her in rain and covered her in petals while she was just a student and new to the country and even now as an adult.

And when she abandons her beloved tree, he knows it is not for long. She will be back with a fresh tea and a pastry, and for him a brand new poem. So, he watches her go.

“She is heading back into the bookstore, boss. I really got to tell you I do not think there is any reason to be watching her.” “It will dawn on you all the longer you watch her.” “I’ve been watching her for 6 months, she’s beautiful but what’s with the obsession.” “Just wait.”

“Y/n you know most kids your age go out drinking and drink coffee more than anything else, and why you insist on looking after that rickety old tree I don’t understand.” “Aunty, you know I grew up reading books back home, every second I had away from school would be spent reading. I love it. It’s an escape that I need. And so, when I moved to Korea and found this place and that beautiful tree, and when I saw that you sold the rooibos we sell back home, well I fell in love. This became my escape. And that tree became my friend. The hominess of this place makes me feel almost at home, like my soul is home.”

And after she returns to the tree with a poem and tea, she sits quietly, pondering a thing or two…

“Hey, I like rooibos tea too” “You know Innie, you suck at stealth” “Where’d you two come from?” “Oh, nowhere really” “You are so dumb” “I HEARD THAT YOU DOG”

“Are you guys ok?” “We’re fine.” “Just here to enjoy the scenery.” Oh, then sure sit with me. You want my tea?” “Yes please.” “Seung, you can’t just take her tea.”

And in silence the girl read poetry to the tree while the two mysterious boys watched. And when she stopped she announced her resignation.

“We should walk you home.” “Yes, a woman should never be alone at night.”

“Say what is your command captain?” “Okay, you’re sweet. Follow me boys.”

They walked for a while, deciding outside of a convenience store that late night snacks and soju would be an amazing idea.

A little further up the road they got to a tiny but cosy loft apartment, briming with greenery and books. Simple and earthy. That is what y/n is. That is why all this fuss about her existed, they got it now. They knew now, tonight they would see the way they needed her.

She went to put her TV on. Some show about a mother and daughter who drank loads of coffee came on, she insisted that Gilmore Girls was the basics of comfort shows. They decided that she was right, because this was her and she would be right in anything she declared to them. 2 bottles of soju later and she was gone, of course Innie and Seung only had like 2 shots each. So, while Seung was getting her settled in and comfortable Innie called the boss.

“Oh yes tell that pretty boy Jisung m with her right now. She is so beautiful when she is asleep, wonder what her lips feel like… who knows? Oh well, we will be staying over here to look after her and clean up. Y’all can meet her tomorrow. But God hyung, you were right about her.”

[snippetsoferin]

Imagine...a life with Kit Walker

(romance + smut)

I love waking up in his arms. I love making us pancakes for breakfast and snuggling close to him on the couch. We have a nice life, in our small country house, surrounded by green pastures and majestic oaks. Summers are beautiful on our farm. I love taking care of the garden, eagerly waiting for him to get back from work. And when he’s back, I jump in his arms and kiss his lovely face, so happy to see him. 

On weekends, we go swimming. I pack the picnic basket full of our favorite treats and jump in the driver’s seat of our pick-up truck. He knows that I love to drive, so he never offers to do it himself. We spread the blanket under a tree. Nothing is better than spending an entire day by his side, falling in and out of sleep, as he gently runs his fingers through my hair.

We swim in the shallow water, we bask in the summer sun, our sun, here, away from the city, away from the noise and the chaos, secure in our little paradise, not wanting the day to end. 

I read to him from my favorite poetry book. He smiles and kisses me between strophes. It’s peaceful with him. The house, the garden, the lake, him - the only things I need.

We jump in the cool water. I hold on to his shoulders as I kiss the water off of his lips. 

Will you ever get bored of me?, I ask.

Never, he assures me with a kiss. What is there more to desire than this? 

I smile and pretend to swim away from him, only for him to follow closely. He knows that I can’t swim well, so he never leaves my side. I wrap my legs around him and rest my head on his shoulder, floating in his arms. 

Once we’re back home, I start planning dinner, while he finishes some yard work. With the fresh tomatoes in our garden, I make a delicious cream soup with fresh cheese and home baked bread.

I find my way in his arms on the couch. He kisses the tip of my nose. I rest my head on his chest and he runs his fingers up and down my back. He rests his hands on the small of my back, drawing shapes on my skin. I kiss the warm skin of his neck. 

Easily enough, his fingers start moving lower, on my buttocks, on my inner thigh, lifting my dress and pushing my underwear down. He grabs my leg and moves it to the side. The heat starts to grow inside me, knowing all too well where this is heading. I keep still on top of him, allowing him to continue. He pushes two fingers inside of me and I can’t help it. I moan and lift my hips. 

You are so wet, he whispers as he kisses the top of my head. I press my mouth to his chest and tighten my arms around his torso. He starts pushing his fingers back and forth in my vagina and I can’t compose myself. I am panting on top of him, unable to remain quiet. I start moving my hips against his pelvis, feeling his bulge growing under his briefs, causing him to groan.  

The pressure is becoming too much to handle, my body is overwhelmed by pleasure. Waves of ecstasy hit me as I let go on top of him, unable to control myself while my pussy throbs around his fingers. 

He starts rubbing my back as I struggle to compose myself, my abdominal muscles still spasming. 

Once I stop panting, he flips me on my back and starts caressing my breasts, kissing and sucking on my nipples. He relaxes on top of me, enjoying the intimacy as I run my fingers through his hair. But I instinctively widen my legs, wrapping them around his hips. 

He lifts his head and gives me a mischievous smile.

Already?, he asks.

He gets up and settles himself between my legs, taking his briefs off, his penis nudging against my thigh, teasing me. 

I need you so badly, I beg as I spread my legs wider, looking into his eyes. He grabs my hips and pushes himself inside of me.

He moans and leans down to kiss me, my nails digging into the skin of his back. He starts thrusting slowly, but soon picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming so rough that I have to grab the sides of the couch to keep myself balanced. 

As his thrusts become deeper, his pelvis starts hitting my clit and I cry out. 

We’re on the right path, baby, he moans. 

He keeps going at it, the pressure is building up inside of me yet again, this time even stronger than before. 

I finish, moaning, my back arches as the pleasure engulfs me. He gives me a few moments, his swollen penis still inside of me, enjoying the throbs of my vagina. Suddenly, he begins thrusting again, this time even more violently, until I start hurting. I gasp, pain combines with pleasure, as he is drilling me, not giving me enough time to recover. He finishes with a groan, shooting his load and collapsing on top of me immediately, his body shaking, my vagina still pulsing. He doesn’t pull out. I don't even think he can with how hard my vagina clenches around him. We lie in silence for a while. I’m dazed and unable to move, my legs wrapped around him, his body heavy on top of mine. He lifts his head and caresses my cheek, giving me a soft kiss on the lips. 

I love you more than anything, he whispers, his face red and sweaty. He rolls over to the side, pulling out from me, making my nerves tingle. I wish he never had to pull away. He wraps his arms around me and I snuggle close to him, pressing a kiss to his throat, missing him inside. I'm exhausted.

I wake up the next day on the couch by myself.  He’s already left for work, but I find a note on the table.

I love you forever. 

(pictures are from Pinterest)

[johaerys-writes]

Hello! May I ask a WIP Wednesday, only if you're okay? Thank you so much for all your wonderful fics!

Hello!! I've been steadily working (plodding along lmao) on the western AU, here's a tiny snippet of Achilles being a silly menace:

After finishing his lunch, Patroclus leans back against the birch tree trunk and pulls a small book out of his pocket; the same book he was reading the day before, and the day before that. He is soon engrossed in it, and back to ignoring Achilles thoroughly.

"What are you reading?" Achilles asks, sitting up. He tries to make out what the book is about, but he’s too far away.

"A book."

"I can see that. What kind of book?"

Patroclus chews idly on the long stem of wild wheat dangling from his lips. He never once takes his eyes off the page as he turns it. "The reading kind."

“You don't say,” Achilles mutters, seething in frustration. Patroclus must think himself quite clever, and Achilles quite the dolt, if he thought for a minute that he would be placated by this answer. He wants to grab that insolent boy by the shoulders and shake him, to push and poke and prod him until he finally looks at him.

Before he can stop himself, he's already shot up and snatched the book from Patroclus' hands.

"Hey!"

"Assorted poems," Achilles reads off the cover of the book when he flips it over. "Huh. Didn't pin you as the poetry type."

Patroclus visibly bristles, his shoulders and neck tensing, and gives him a hard, from-under stare. He pushes himself up to his feet, but Achilles is faster; he dashes away and climbs up the next tree, quick and agile like a cat.

"Give it back here," Patroclus demands sharply, but Achilles is already perched on his tree branch, out of Patroclus’ reach, and biting into his piece of honey pie as he examines the book at his leisure. It is small and sturdy, and seems to have been well loved. The pages are tinged yellow, and the leather is scuffed at the corners but it’s in relatively good shape, considering Patroclus has probably been carrying it around in his pocket for God knows how long.

"Let’s see, let's see…" Achilles muses loudly. The cake fills his mouth with sweet, gooey syrup as he peruses the small book’s contents, but nothing tastes as sweet as disturbing Patroclus’ peace. "What does Patroclus No-Name like to read? Bet it's something very clever and profound. Bet it’s some big secret no one's allowed to know." He finishes off his pie and licks his fingers clean as Patroclus continues to glare at him from below.

“Shall I read us something from it?” he asks pleasantly. It thrills him beyond measure, the way Patroclus’ eyes flick from his face to his fingers, still sticky with syrup, that are touching the pages of his precious book. “It would be just the thing to pass the time, don’t you think? I’ll read your favourite poem, if you tell me which one it is.”

The only answer Patroclus gives him is a long, hard, dark look.

“Fine, then, I’ll choose one myself!” Achilles declares, and flicks a page at random.

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [46]

chapter forty-six, act six: be my mistake

masterlist

December 25th 2017

It takes Tommie forty minutes to stop staring at the front door as if he’s going to walk right back through. When she finally does leave the hallway her gaze settles onto the wrapped gift still untouched. 

She’s sitting criss crossed under her green Christmas tree with Button on one side and Allen the other.

The wrapping paper has little dinosaurs wearing cowboy hats, which upon further inspection she realises have been drawn on by hand. She tears it open, then folds it neatly and places it to her side. Her eyes tear up, her thumb traces the leather. 

It’s her book. 

Her lyric book she thought lost forever sits right there in her hands with a blue post it note on top.

‘ Don’t worry, I didn’t punch him, Ross did (again).’

She giggles to herself as she takes the post it note and slots it inside to a page in the middle of the book, the one with the first ever draft of her poem ‘show me yours’.

Beneath the old brown leather book is a very similar one. The exact same book instead this one is a dark green colour.

She flicks open the first page and finds a note has been drawn on the inside cover.

‘The day that I met you I started dreaming. Now I write them down if I remember in the morning

-Yours, Matty’

A few pages have been written on, he writes on one side of a double page then leaves the other blank so she can fill in her own thoughts or change what he has written.

They’re songs. Songs he had written in rehab. About her. For her. She’s not sure yet.

Her eyes scan the pages as she flicks through them all, taking note of the titles scribbled in red ink.

Inside your mind Love it if we made it Be my mistake Sincerity is scary If it’s not with you Mine In love Sometimes About you Playing on my mind

She reads them all. Over and over and over. She only adds to one of the songs he’s written. 

She finds inspiration, she writes. She writes a lot, poetry which turn into songs and songs which become poetry. She finds herself finishing songs from her old book that she’d begun writing years ago. Love songs she’d tried to write about Caleb seem to fall together with a new inspiration in mind.

Matty.

Even in the breakup songs she finds ways to reference him in some way.

She can’t help it. There’s a piece of Matty in everything she does. Not just in her writing, she finds herself gravitating towards clothes of hers that he’d once touched. Like her old The Stone Roses shirt he wore once, or the flannel shirt he’d always ‘borrow’ when he came into her room. She buys his favourite brand of tea bags and stocks the fridge with his favourite pop. She listens to his favourite artist and hums a few tones lower to match his usual pitch. She reads books he had recommended and watches True Romance over and over because she can still picture his happy grin as he mimed the words along to the cinema scene. She finds herself stroking the freckle on her collarbone he once kissed. Touching the part of her hairline he would rest his lips against when he held her close. She finds herself thinking of him. Consumed by him. It’s Matty. It’s always been Matty.

She doesn’t stop writing. The words seem to flow out of her unlike anything she’s ever experienced before. Her hand cramps and even then she continues on with ink stained finger tips delicately turning white pages.

She shifts the book from her knee to the coffee table and as she does something falls out from the back of it. Shuffling awkwardly across the floor and raising the heads of the two dogs who watch her, she reaches for the small photograph.

A smile stretches her lips. It’s of the band a few weeks after she first met them. She was young at the time, thirteen maybe if she remembers correctly. Matty is standing directly behind her with his hand on her shoulder and his chin on her head. She’s smiling so big. She misses it. She misses the band. She misses her boys. She misses her Matty.

July 30th 2007

“You’ll be fine.’

Her cousin's words do little to help sooth her nerves as she clutches his hand. “They’re my best mates,” He continues on as he holds the door open for her, “They’ll love you as much as I do.”

“I’m not sure, Ads.”

“It’ll be fine.”

He promises as he opens the door. Three sets of eyes are on her when she enters and she pauses at the doorway.

It’s the tallest one with a buzzcut that comes to her first with a smile. “Caroline?”

“Tommie.” She says quickly.

“I’m Ross.” He tells her, then with a hand on her back he guides her further into the room to sit on the small two seater they have. 

Before he can settle beside her the space is taken by the long haired guy, he throws an arm over her shoulder and places the other in front of her for her to shake. “I’m Matty. Hann tells us you can play guitar, wanna be in the band?”

Ross shakes his head and pushes Matty away from her by his forehead, “She’s like ten leave her alone.”

“I’m not… ten.” She says quietly. 

Matty shrugs, ignoring her quiet comment, “Well, let her decide, Ross.” He turns back to her then, brown eyes looking right through her, “Would you?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“Leave her alone.”

The third guy who she hasn’t learnt the name of yet drags him to stand and pushes him away, Ross takes Matty’s spot while the guy in the beanie offers a shy smile. “I’m George.”

She nods back to him and lets her eyes go back to Matty who’s rocking back and forth on his feet, “I’ve always said having a girl in the band will do us better.”

“Better how?”

He sighs dramatically and Adam shoots a sharp look to George, “Really? You want him to give his whole speech again?”

George shrugs innocently as Matty clears his throat, “First of all, a girl can hit different notes than me, having one to harmonise-”

“Matty.” Ross interrupts, “The girl’s just got here. Let’s leave her alone, eh?”

He rolls his eyes then turns them back to Tommie, “Favourite song?”

She looks back to Adam, already hating her cousin for forcing her to meet his friends, “I don’t know, um.” She looks around at the walls of the little pool house they’re hidden away in. There’s posters and instruments all lying around, the floor is covered in wires and through a barely covered glass window she can see the pool. “I like that one of the new Arctic Monkey album.”

“Which one?”

“Brianstorm.”

He nods in thought, “Alright. Sit back, relax and enjoy, Thomas. We’re gonna blow you away.”

He ushers the guys up and Ross leans towards her, “This is him trying to convince you. Don’t give in, he’s pushy but he’ll give up eventually.”

Looking back, Tommie’s glad he didn’t give up.

She clutches the photo to her chest and leans back against her settee with a sob of solitude. 

With tears in her eyes she crawls across the floor to her sofa and grips her phone. With shaky hands she lifts it to her ear as the phone starts ringing. 

“Hello?”

“Can you come over? Please. I just-” She niffles and rubs the back of her wrist against her nose, “I really need you right now.”

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe, @littlesoldierelleora, @procrastinatinglikeapro, @beatr2x, @byyourside28, @plantinghobbies, @sinarainbows

-let me know if you want to be added :)

[anna1306]

This idea was stuck in my mind too strongly not to write it c:

Rule

Poly!Ghostface x Reader

Warnings: discussion of death, death of secondary character, blood

Being new wasn't an easy deal. It didn't matter whether you were new in school, work, company or anywhere else. In any case there would be side-eyes, whispers and a lot of interest on you.

You weren't exactly used to the attention. You were from small, quiet city where something loud happened obviously, but it was only from time to time. And still your family decided that you should try it out there, in bigger town, with more opportunities. You didn't oppose to that, but it was something completely new. You had to redo your whole lifestyle practically.

You parked your car near the school and sighed. It would be okay. It would be alright. You could do that. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. You should at least try. There was always an option to return back to your family after all. Finally you gathered your thoughts and left the car.

On your way to school you met with couple of strange looks, but tried your hardest to dismiss them. You met with the teacher that was assigned to show you around and it turned out fine, you almost remembered everything. The last stop was your first class. While teacher was introducing you, you looked at your new classmates. Couple of them caught your eye, but you still didn't let your gaze linger on them for long. Even if they were pretty. Even if one especially hot brunette returned your look, and then turned away to whisper something to his more giddy blonde friend.

But the lesson was normal. Everything was pretty much normal. It scared you to some extent. Normal... wasn't your thing. You were paranoid and you started to overthink that these silent looks were holding something behind them.

So you decided to calm yourself down and distance yourself from all the noise. Noone had introduced themselves to you yet, so you could sit alone without awkward interactions. On the lunch break you went out of the building, sitting under the tree. Sandwich in one hand, book in the other one, you finally managed to calm yourself down.

"Hey there!" You jumped in surprise, looking at the girl in front of you. There were two of them actually, but the one who greeted you, stood a little bit closer to you. Blonde one with wide smile and bright clothes. "I'm Tatum. Mind if we sit?"

"Uhm... No, not at all." You smiled sheepishly, coughing from the sandwich that got stuck in your throat. The girl with dark hair passed you the bottle of water.

"Sorry if we scared you. I'm Sidney." She offered you a small smile.

"Y/N. It's fine, I was too invested in the book." You shook your head, forcing yourself to relax a bit. You were ought to have at least couple of conversations, you just had to not look freaky during those.

"What is that?" Tatum asked, biting an apple. You smiled, closing the book.

"Poetry. My elder brother gave it to me before I came here, so I decided I should give it a try." They looked cool and easy-going. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard fitting in here and all you worries were up for nothing.

"That's boring!" You jumped in surprise once again, when tall blonde guy from your first class that day plopped on the grass near Tatum.

"If you can't read, Stu, that doesn't mean that it's not interesting for everybody else." Tatum scoffed and looked at you. "Don't mind Stu, he can be a lot sometimes."

"I have a lot of something, if you know what I mean." He wiggled his eyebrows, looking at you with a smirk.

"I have never heard lamer pickup line... " You mumbled to yourself. But the company heard you pretty well, Sidney giggled, while Tatum loudly laughed.

"You are gonna fit just fine. But don't worry. He barks, but not bites." She winked at you. You smiled a bit in response, distracting yourself with more sandwich.

"I am deeply wounded." Stu playfully put his hand to the forehead, pretending to be hurt. You couldn't lie, he was cute. And funny to some extent. But he was too much, you weren't used to that. Oh well, another new thing for you.

"Can I look? Or is it too personal?" Sidney asked, motioning to your book. You moved it closer to your side, shaking your head. There were so much notes from your brother, most of it were filled with your inside jokes or personal things. You didn't want anyone to even get a glimpse of it.

"Sorry, no." You smiled awkwardly and quickly changed the theme. "I meant to ask, I am still bad with directions here, as I am obviously new. I have biology next, maybe you could help me to get there?"

"I can!" Stu grinned, excitedly raising his arm, as if he was volunteering at something. "We have the same class!"

"Lord, have mercy on your soul." Sidney joked, making you smile a bit.

You sat there a little longer, the girls making sure to know you a bit more and vice versa, as you gave each other bits of your personal life. You didn't want to spill it all, you were closed person, and your family wasn't a simple one, but still you told them that you liked poetry, movies and rock music. Stu occasionally insert his opinion, making the atmosphere lighter and even leading the talk into completely other direction.

"Finally, we are alone." Macher smirked, when you both parted your ways with the girls. You smiled awkwardly.

"You are way too flirty for someone with a girlfriend." In the past fifteen minutes you learned that this was just how Stu was, now you getting used to it was just the matter of time. The boy scoffed.

"There is no fun in being sad and serious all the time, you know?" He was light, almost jumping with every step. You smiled at this, trying to remember the way to the class at the same time. None of the people you knew before had the same lightness to them. "So how is our citadel of boring knowledge? Different from your past one?"

"I... I was home-schooled, so... I honestly can't make comparison." You admitted shyly. Stu suddenly gasped and stopped right in front of you, looking at you with wide eyes. You stopped with him.

"No way! You have never been to school before?!" You shrugged, not understanding his excitement.

"Yeah... We... I am from small town, our school wasn't big enough, so I was at home." Macher laughed excitedly, grabbing your shoulders.

"You are so lucky!!! Tell me more about it. Who was your teacher? Your mom?" You shivered, anxiety slowly crawling back into your soul, as the loud boy definitely drew attention to you and standing in the middle of corridor wasn't the best place for flashbacks. But before you could say anything else, someone suddenly smacked Stu on the back of his head.

"You are annoyingly loud, dude." You looked to the side and saw a brunette, that caught your eye from earlier. He looked you up and down. "I hope he didn't scare you."

"No... Just... Too much. First day and everything." You breathed out with a nervous smile. The boy nodded.

"I know the feeling. Billy. Billy Loomis. And you are Y/N. I remember the introduction." Strange, but you felt more at ease with his presence. Stu got quieter, rubbing his head and letting you go, looking between you and Billy, but he didn't try to be loud anymore. That sudden change of character was a bit weird, but... You set the thought aside.

"Good to meet you. Uhm... I think the class is starting soon."

"Yeah, let's go, we don't want to be late because of someone's never shutting mouth." Billy glared at Stu. They exchanged looks and suddenly Macher went back to being his loud, overreacting himself, bickering with his more calm and silent friend back and forth, as you were following them to the class. Something here was fishy. They were strange, even if you couldn't explain what it was exactly. But that was definitely better than quiet normallness of this place.

***

"What the hell did you do with it?" You straightened up, looking at Stu. He was too busy whispering something to Tatum. Probably something lewd, knowing him. "Hey, earth to Stu!" The boy raised his eyes to look at you.

"Huh? Yes, my lovely mechanic?" He smiled widely at you, probably being concentrated on Tatum in his arms still.

"What the hell did you do to your car that it's so broken, but still running?" You looked at him exhasperatedly. You were regretting the decision to tell the guys that you know your ways around cars. The minute Macher heard about that, he asked you to take a look at his car. And it was awful.

"Magic fingers." He smirked, wiggling his fingers. You rolled your eyes, turning back to the car. What did you expect from him? Serious answer? It had been couple of weeks of you in this town, you should have get used to his persona.

"You are really good with it." Sidney noticed, sitting in the chair, warming under the sun. The garage door was open to let the warm air in, and music was playing, but she spoke loud and clear for you to hear her. "I mean, car stuff." You scoffed.

"My brother is... Kinda a mechanic. He usually took me with him to the repair shop, when I was younger. And I picked a thing or two... How in the living hell this is connected?!" You groaned, disconnecting the wrong tube. If your brother was here, he would be so angry at Stu for doing this to his car. Thankfully, you weren't your brother. Only tiny bit like him.

You were too concentrated on your work, figuring out what was wrong here and what to do to fix it. Even if Stu could drive just fine, it would still be easier if the car would be repaired. You could almost hear his whistles and screams, when the drive would be fast and smooth. And honestly, you couldn't wait to see him excited like that.

"Y/N, maybe you should..."

"Fuck off while I'm busy!" You cursed at the sudden interruption and pushed someone who came closer to you before you could realise what you were doing. And when you did understood what just happened, you raised the eyes to see Billy. With an empty glass. And wet t-shirt. "Oh my god, I am so sorry. I got so into work I forgot everything. That was so rude of me."

"It's... Fine." He muttered, looking at your face. Something in his eyes made you shiver. Something that was too familiar, but still unpredictable. Something that almost made you check the garage for ways around. "Just thought you got overheated and needed a break."

"Yeah... You are probably right." His face softened, but the glint of something you saw in his eyes stayed somewhere in his face. You just knew it. You could almost feel it. "I will fix your t-shirt, so sorry again."

"Wow, someone wants to see Billy without his shirt." Stu whistled, breaking your strange eye contact. You looked at him, noticing his too satisfied smirk. Like he was enjoying the situation. These two from the start were the only ones who didn't look normal to you. To others - maybe. But you knew all to well to look behind the scene.

"If I wanted to look at the man, who's taken, I would search movies with Tom Cruise." You blurted out without thinking. In a second the garage was filled with laughter and Tatum's discussion on the theme of hot actors, and the feeling of something weird in the air disappeared. But when you went back to the car, you could feel eyes on the back of your head and on your hands.

***

"Who's Casey?" You asked Tatum, as you were walking to the school. The whole town it seemed, was full of talks and whispers. And the more information there was, the harder it was for you to understand what was really going on.

"The girl Sidney was sitting in English with. And her boyfriend was the captain of football team." She answered, watching Prescott joining you both. "They say that they both were gutted, like from side to side."

"They say a lot of things, but what is the truth?" You sighed, walking with them, mind filled with thoughts. You didn't know that your move here would result in you finding yourself in this events.

"Who knows? Police won't tell us the truth. But if you are curious, I can bribe Dewey."

"Don't... All of it is clearly enough to get the basic idea." You shook your head, somehow feeling sick to your stomach. Your mind was convinced that you were smelling sweet, rotten scent in the air. Hotness rolled of your skin, like you were in a stuff place or near candles. Your mind wondered somewhere else. Suddenly there was rough voice in your head telling you to follow the rules, so you wouldn't get hurt, to stay back and don't interfere.

"...just imagine." You shivered, realising you were in the classroom already. You were too gone in your own head to remember how you got to your desk. Stu was turned to you, grinning like crazy. Like always. He probably was mumbling about something for quite some time.

"Sorry... What?" You asked him, looking at him puzzled, trying to gather your thoughts.

"I said, imagine yourself on her place. It must be awful." He giggled. Horror fanatic. You shook your head absent-mindedly. You knew the rules of surviving. You knew how to not attract the attention and live through this. You shouldn't be worried about it, but you couldn't help it.

"I have a knife from my brother." You answered quietly, looking away from him. Stu whistled, licking his lips, his eyes are burning with genuine interest.

"Don't tell cops that." Billy scoffed, sitting at desk in front of you with a huff. "They asked me if I was a hunter." He added.

"Come on, Billy, it couldn't be our Y/N. Look at them. They can't hurt a fly." Stu put a hand on your shoulder, shaking you a bit.

"Yes. I have never killed a person. I can't kill." You scoffed nervously, too deep in your thoughts again, not noticing the glare from both of the boys.

***

"Why the fuck this dick wasn't at his home." Breathed out Stu. Billy shushed him, adjusting the gloves.

"It doesn't matter. Jason will get what's coming to him. But his girlfriend should go down tonight." He whispered, checking the voice changer and going over every detail of their plan for today one more time. They were near the house of one of the most rudest bitches Billy had ever met. And he wanted to teach all the town a lesson. Even if it would be through hands of Stu. Loomis would gladly just watch the scene go down. He called the number, they both were ready to start.

"Yeah?" Loomis froze for a second. That was definitely not Britney's voice in the phone. But he was sure that she would be alone, he and Stu learned all about her day beforehand.

"Can I hear Brit?" He still asked with changer near his mouth. If there was only two of them, there shouldn't have been any problems.

"Oh, no, she's busy. Bye." He could swear he heard a giggle, before the phone died. And not like someone just hung up on him, but like something happened to the phone itself.

"Dude? What is it?" Stu looked at him nervously. He couldn't just sit there and wait. He was ready to pounce at any moment, but Loomis was concerned and shook his head.

"There's something wrong. Come on, let's get a closer look inside..."

There were three victims already. Two of them died on the same night. There were too much talks. Too much noise. And it was never-ending. After failed attack on Sidney and Billy's arrest and quick freeing of him you only grew more nervous. With the situation, with yourself... Besides, family on the other side of the rare phonecalls you had with them, weren't pleased to learn that you or even them could be in danger. You had to talk with them for a long time to convince them to let you stay there, as you didn't want to go back to old and small town. Yet. But also you had to find the way to get all of your emotions out and not just in chit-chat with Tatum. You had to find the exit to your anger, home-sickness and anxiety. It was just...

"...too much, you know?" You said quietly, rocking in the kitchen chair. "I am used to one lifestyle. And then I moved. And got used to quietness here. And then this. I'm just going crazy, do you understand?"

"I can't..." The girl before you whimpered. You sighed, that was called an ungrateful listener. Billy would have listened and even answer something or give an advice. But he was too pretty and had a lot on his plate to talk with him like that.

"Look, all I am saying that even if I missed this... Adrenaline rush, screams and blood and tension, I never expected someone to be so absorbed with one theme for days. It is tiring to hear about murders and never getting a rest from it, you know?"

"You did all of that!" She suddenly screamed. You rolled your eyes tiredly. Even Stu listened better, and he had an attention span of a toothpick.

"Damn, I get that you are blonde, but I don't think that you are that dumb. And last time I checked you weren't deaf." You stood up, noticing how she immediately tensed up. It was surprisingly nice - feeling such kind of power over people. You made two slow steps to her. "Casey, her boyfriend and that boy from two days ago - aren't my victims. I don't kill people. I don't kill them at all, that is the rule."

"You killed Jason!" You laughed at her face in response and looked at the lifeless body between you two, bending to it.

"No. You did." You answered with a laugh, shaking your head. "I just hurt him, wounded him with a knife. He could have made it with quick medical assistance, if you didn't pull the knife out so roughly."

"You sick fucker..." She whimpered, sobbing. Tainted with blood on her hands, face and blonde hair, she almost looked pretty. You guessed you could see now where your brother was taking inspiration from.

"Aren't we all?" You licked your lips, enjoying the emotional relief maybe a little bit too much.

"I will tell everyone."

"No, you won't." You scoffed, stepping away from the girl, as you straightened your posture. "Firstly, you won't live long enough to tell the story, you will kill yourself. Secondly, everyone will think that this was Ghostface doing, not mine. No one will think about two killers at the same time at the same space, there isn't even such cliche in horror movies. Thirdly..."

She suddenly launched herself forward. Grabbing the bloody knife from the counter, she raised her hand for a strike, but... You stepped back, hiding behind the table. In attempt to chase you, Britney ran after you, but... She stumbled in the slippery pool of blood. Trying to soften the fall, the girl instinctively put her hands before her, forgetting about the knife. She fell on the floor with a loud thud. With her face on the blade.

"Great. Why the hell they never listen?" You laughed out tiredly. You weren't lying to her one bit. You didn't kill a soul. Always playing the luring role, always on the background, while others were doing their work. But you knew how victims were. How they behaved and what they did in situations like that. It didn't change one bit. Never did.

You sighed, looking at the now lifeless body, going around the table. You had to turn the girl on the back to take out the knife from her head. After all it was handmade by your brother. More so, if you were using the cover of Ghostface... He had never left the weapon behind.

Now it was your time to go. There was always a timer in your head, when you should show up, what should you say and when you should hide.

You stopped at the door though. You could swear you were being watched. But it felt almost like you were back at home. You weren't in danger. Just someone was overwatching you. Still, you were tense by this, making you remember all of the other rules. So many mixed signals...

You shook your head, going out and closing the door behind yourself, only then taking off your gloves. All that mattered was that now you knew how to let all of your emotions out. You snickered to yourself, walking away from the property. You really took after your family.

"Oh my god... Did you see that?" Stu laughed, hysterically and excitedly at the same time, closing his mouth with his hand.

"Yes, and I heard most of that, you ask me this for the fifth time." Answered Billy, watching from the open window of the kitchen, how you walked out of the house and went away, like nothing happened. They hid near it almost for entire ordeal, not entirely believing what was unraveling before them.

"We definitely have to pay them a visit, dude. For shits and giggles, for scares, I don't know. I just want them." Stu rarely got this excited, even if he was giddy all the time. But this whole scene made him all more interested in you. It made him look at you from the other perspective and rethink all of the strange moments with you. You were pretty, funny, with silver tongue and witty comebacks. He knew there was something more, and he was right. And Billy felt it too. And they both wanted the same thing now. Loomis smirked, and his wicked grin resembled one on Stu's face.

"Of course we visit them... I want to see what else our dearest Y/N Sinclair is capable of..."

[liam-neesons-best-girl]

The Orange Peel Test with him . . .

Summary: How different Liam Neeson characters would respond to the orange peel test with their partner.

ICYMI: The orange peel test is a trend circulating that poses the scenario for one partner to present the other with an orange and no context or instructions. If they peel it, their love is "for real" lol

Pairings: Qui-Gon Jinn x reader, Bryan Mills x reader, Hannibal x reader

Warnings: f!reader, drabble, they all pass the test, light kissing

Bryan Mills (Taken)

he is always happy when you want to cook with him or vise versa

the orange in your hand doesn't really pair well with the lasagna he is making but he brushes it off, just focusing on the task at hand to not cut his fingers

you take off your shoes, coat, and purse, placing the orange on the counter with your belongs before you scoot off to the restroom to change out of your work clothes and get washed up to help prep dinner

he thinks for a minute and decides to stop his work and peel the orange for you, also getting you a glass of water and a small bowl of mixed nuts, the perfect post-work pre-dinner snack

he also sneaks some nuts for himself (he loves almonds)

when you return to the kitchen he smiles and starts asking about your day

you sit on the bar stool in front of him and notice the snack and water that wasn't there 5 minutes ago

"for me?" you question

"for you" he says with a slight grin, thinking nothing of it

you can't believe how lucky you are to have a man who doesn't need step by step instructions to be thoughtful or affectionate

"can you put down the knife" you ask, rounding the counter to be by his side

he does so and you give him the tightest hug

you stay like that for a while because he is never the one to pull back from a hug first

Hannibal (A-Team)

you meet up with him in his make shift barracks, which is really a tent on desert terrain but at least it is some privacy for the two of you, away from his team

he greets you with a hug and a cocked brow when he sees the picnic basket you've placed on his bed

"what did you pack?" he asks, placing the basket on his lap to make room for the two of you to sit and go through the contents of the basket

he pulls out some meaty sandwiches you made for him, since you aren't too big a fan of deli products, miscellaneous fruits including oranges, and two cans of sparkling water to quench the thirst

ever the show off he declares a challenge

"you know I can peel these in one piece" he says pointing to the orange you just picked up to eat

"I'll believe it when I see it" you egg him on

you know this is just a rouse for him to peel it for you and not get any juices on your pretty dress or have to lift a single finger when around your strong boyfriend

he also feels indebt to you for making him such a lovely, impromptu lunch date

you were impressed to see he wasn't just blowing smoke and was actually able to peel it in one piece

watching his skilled hands be so delicate to such a fragile fruit was relaxing, and (not going to lie) a bit of a turn on

he hands you back the orange ready to eat and you, so cheeky, squeeze one of the wedges at him to splash him with the citrus's juice

with a mouth full of his sandwich he retorts, "I'll get you back when you least expect it, doll"

Qui-Gon (Star Wars)

he found you under and orange tree reading your book of poetry, enjoying the chirping birds and soft wind dancing on your hair

laying down by your side you extended your legs, an open invitation for him to rest his head on your lap as you read aloud to him

after a short time your belly began to growl, alerting him to your hunger

You lean up and say, "I'll just grab a ripe orange"

but he stops you, gently laying you back down against the tree and reaches up to grab the juiciest looking one

"let me feed you, my love" he'll say, not only peeling the orange for you but then ripping a part the wedges to feed you piece by piece

he kisses you in between bites, tasting the sweet citrus on your tongue

[lavampira]

book recommendations

tysm @winedark and @rosenfey for the tag <:

passing it along to @hythlodaes @scionshtola @coldshrugs @likeabirdinflight @lesbianalicent @veeples @narrativefoiltrope @kirnet @disequilibria @jennystahl @elvves @queenofthieves @weird-ecologies @erielake @verbose-vespertine @solarisrenbeth @onceinabluemoony @queerbrujas @oldblood but ofc no pressure!!

1. the last book I read:

GOTH WESTERN by LIVALI WYLE — well. technically, it’s an indie graphic novel. but it’s a western meets magical realism about necromancy, revenge, and the power of love. and lesbians. I burned through it in a couple hours sitting because I was so gripped by it tbh.

2. a book I recommend:

THE HACIENDA by ISABEL CAÑAS — an absolute all time fave book in my heart; I would say one doesn’t even need to necessarily love horror to get invested in this one, since it also involves very interesting critique of spanish colonialism, religion, and class struggles in post-independence mexico only using hauntings as the lens to view it.

3. a book that I couldn’t put down:

THE PRIORY OF THE ORANGE TREE by SAMANTHA SHANNON — I was glued to this book for a solid two weeks despite its length. I have a lot that I would change about the pacing and certain events or qualities of some characters’ outcomes, but it was such a fun fantasy read, and I had a difficult time even moving on from the setting and protagonists once I was done.

4. a book I’ve read twice (or more):

THE SONG OF ACHILLES by MADELINE MILLER — my first time reading this myth retelling was my freshman year of college, so I reread it again ten years later to see if it would still hold up for how much I loved it, and it absolutely did. the perspective of the man standing beside and in love with the hero interwoven with the tragedy of achilles and patroclus takes me right out and the passages that tumblr enjoys to quote from it have so much more impact in the full context of the narrative.

5. a book on my TBR:

OUR WIVES UNDER THE SEA by JULIA ARMFIELD — this poor book keeps getting knocked down on my TBR but I’m determined to read it this year. I’m intrigued by the horror of the protagonist’s wife ‘coming back wrong’ in a sense, and the recommendations based on its similarity to ANNIHILATION, but also the fact it seems to be a wlw scifi horror, too.

6. a book I’ve put down:

AFFINITY by SARAH WATERS — I wanted to like this one so bad, considering how often waters has been hyped up to me as The Author for historical lesbian novels and the fact it delves into victorian spiritualism, but the pacing felt so slow at getting to the point in the plot, and when it finally did, the twist put me off on finishing the end. it’s probably more of a case of ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ but I def had to DNF it.

7. a book on my wishlist:

GHOST STATION by S.A. BARNES — space horror quickly became a fave niche genre that I got into last year, so I’ve been very excited for this release, too. I’m also a fan of how barnes writes atmospheric dread and I have high expectations for it.

8. a favorite book from my childhood:

WUTHERING HEIGHTS by EMILY BRONTË — it altered my brain chemistry as a teenager in high school and I haven’t been the same since I read it. I distinctly remember listening to ‘you said I killed you — haunt me then!’ read aloud and having to pretend like it didn’t make me feel so completely unhinged in the middle of class.

9. a book you would give to a friend:

PIRANESI by SUSANNA CLARKE — I was recommended this one by a friend to begin with, so it feels like an even more perfect book to pass forward. I think it’s one of those books that’s easy to get absorbed into even if it’s not a typical genre one would read, and it’s such a life-altering experience to go through with the protagonist, too. the underlying message that we’re all changed by our own trials and we’re never the same as we were before lingers with me.

10. a book of poetry or lyrics you own:

CRUSH by RICHARD SIKEN — it’s taken me so long to finally track down a physical copy at my bookstore but it was worth it because it remains my fave book of poetry to date. I could quote so many lines, after how hard they’ve hit me, and some of them have influenced my own writing or pairings in some ways.

11. a nonfiction book you own:

HAVANA NOCTURNE by T.J. ENGLISH — back in 2015-2016ish I went through a true crime phase in the prohibition era through the foundation of the US mafia, and this is a very informative book on how the mob became tied to cuba and how the revolution affected it.

12. what are you currently reading:

AN EDUCATION IN MALICE by S.T. GIBSON — I stumbled across this retelling of carmilla set in a late 60s massachusetts women’s college after reading gibson’s A DOWRY OF BLOOD and had to give it a try. I’m enjoying it so far; the prose is full of thick emotional yearning and electric chemistry, and the balance in the narrative of toxic mentorship, historical romantic and sensual attraction between women without shaming them for it, and vampiric elements is really fun.

13. what are you planning on reading next:

WHAT FEASTS AT NIGHT by T. KINGFISHER — I only found out the other day that the sequel to WHAT MOVES THE DEAD was even released but I’m so desperate for the next part of alex easton’s story (and how eerily kingfisher writes horror) that it shot up to my next read.

[willesredlights]

Chapter 3: Escapism🧚‍♂️👑

I'm enjoying this fun, little thing so I'm continuing it! Elf Simon is attached to me now. So here is chapter 3 of King of My Heart.

Wilhelm escapes all the drama at the palace. With his horse, Silver, he runs through the woods. There he finds a boy. A boy with blue wings.

A.k.a. Elf Simon fic

Read below or on ao3.

Trees rush past Wilhelm as he races through the woods on his white horse. It calms him down and makes the anger bubbling inside of him disappear. He had another fight with his mother. Another fight about his tasks as Crown Prince. This weekend he is supposed to give a speech at the school where he graduated high school last year. He hates giving speeches, he hates speaking in front of a large group of people who stare at him. He wishes he could escape, for the weekend, or even forever.  He wishes he and Silver, his horse, could keep running forever, hiding away from the real world. He doesn't have the energy to deal with this real world. Normally he would escape to a realm far from here with his poetry and short stories. He fantasizes about realms existing outside the human world. You could call it other universes attached to the one he lives in. In those other “realms” there live creatures known from all kind of fairy tales and folk stories. Creatures like fairies, angels, elves but also witches, vampires, werewolves and other demons. He knows it's just a fantasy, something his mind makes up to make him feel better. As a kid he already had a lot of fantasy but he still has it now he is an adult. It's some kind of escapism from the cruel reality he lives in.

In an ideal world Wilhelm's life would be filled with reading and writing books while he is hidden away in a cottage in the woods, ideally together with his partner. He doesn't have a partner yet. There is no one interesting who catches his attention. Another thing he frequently fights about with his mother who thinks he should search for a partner. Doesn’t love come when it comes? He doesn't want love to feel forced, something doomed to fail. He wants to feel the real thing. Wilhelm lets his horse come to a halt as he notices someone by the creek. These woods are normally empty as they are property of the Royal Court. He keeps his distance, watching the person while hiding behind a tree.

The person stands up looking kind of disorientated. He looks around with an empty and tired expression on his face. He turns around to look at the creek. Wilhelm watches how the person pulls his shirt off and a pair of beautiful wings get revealed. They look blue and sparkly but thin and a bit see-through. This can't be true. He is hallucinating from the lack of sleep from the past few days. This is something he would see in his fantasy, not in real life. Confused he rubs his eyes but the wings are still there, attached to the man's body. He looks at how he cups some water from the creek into his hands, splashing it in his face. He washes his arm and then searches for something. He plucks something in the grass and binds it around his arm. Maybe he is hurt? Suddenly Silver neighs loudly drawing the attention of the person whose face is full of terror. He looks caught, trapped. He picks his shirt from the ground and pulls it back over his head, folding his wings and hiding them under his clothes. Slowly Wilhelm steps away from the tree, closer to the boy who looks scared. He would estimate him around his age.  “Hi?”, he tries but the other boy just stands still.

“I'm not going to hurt you”, Wilhelm reassures him but the closer he comes the more panic is visible in the other's eyes. When Wilhelm is almost there the boy runs away, further into the woods. He runs faster, faster than a normal human being would do. He still thinks he is dreaming or something, that this isn't real. Wilhelm jumps back on Silver and follows the boy. He needs to find him.