#and i haven't been able to draw with my right hand for three weeks now welp

[murderous-coffeebean]

Surface Light

I did some anatomy drawing practice with the help of YouTube tutorials a while ago and made a sketch I liked so much I ended up digitalizing it. ^^ So here’s a merman (and some fish), looking at the light from above shining through his hands. 

art © Murderous-Coffeebean (tumblr & dA)

[hotchner-edu]

The Bet | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: The team bets Aaron that he won't be able to find himself a date for Dave's annual summer barbecue. Little do they know, he's already got his eye on you.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!BAU!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Hotch being perfect

It's half past ten, the smell of paper and brewing coffee permeates through the bullpen, and your eyes were narrowed at the small little circle surrounding Emily's desk.

"Okay, I'll bite. What are we talking about?" You finally lean over to ask, rolling your eyes fondly when Derek flashes a mischievous grin at you. He had been giving you numerous glances over the past ten minutes to try and draw your attention, possessing the giddiness and subtly of a puppy.

"Rossi's barbecue is next week." Emily muses, a bright glint in her eyes.

You nod slowly and cautiously, not sure what you were walking into. "Right..." you drag the word out a bit. "And? What are you planning? You only have that kind of smile when you're up to something, Em."

"Well, Rossi's making plus one's mandatory this year." Derek says with a sly grin, crossing his arms as he leans back against Emily's desk.

You raise your eyebrows and glance to Spencer. "Oh? And we're all in agreement with this new rule?"

"I believe Rossi's exact words were 'you people need to get out more,' so..." Emily laughs softly, shrugging as if his words had become law.

Spencer frowns a little and nods. "He also said that it would be good to bring someone we actually like and know because 'a man who doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.'"

"Did Rossi really just quote the fucking Godfather at us." You deadpan and glance over to Emily who raises her hands up and shrugs again. "Okay, fine. Now I'm a bit scared to ask, but why are you guys laughing?"

Derek smiles brightly before answering with an amused tone. "Because this means Hotch has to bring a date too. Rossi's already made a bet with him that he won't be able to find a date, and we're all getting in on the action too. Losers owe a hundred each."

"Wow, Rossi's not wasting any time. So, what did you guys bet on?" You ask with a near unimpressed tone and raise an eyebrow.

Spencer glances between the three of you guys before giving you the Sparknotes version. "Well, the three of us are betting with Rossi. Penelope's still deciding, and we haven't gotten to JJ yet."

"Well, I'll bet you twenty that JJ decides to sit out on this. I mean, guys, please, are you all really convinced that Aaron Hotchner of all people can't score himself a date?" You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed by the wit of your three friends.

You have to refrain from speaking further, knowing it'd turn into a spiel of how attractive you thought your unit chief was. Plus, you weren't trying to deal with them profiling the HR nightmare-sized crush you harbored for Aaron.

"You're going against the grain, sweetheart?" Derek chuckles, lips tugged into an excited grin.

Emily shakes her head and interjects. "Okay, but there's no way he's going to be able to get a date before the party. He was hand delivered like two weeks worth of paperwork this morning."

"It's Hotch. He's full of surprises." You grin, glancing around the bustling bullpen. "And anyway, you guys already have dates?"

Derek clicks his tongue and nods with a pleased smirk. "Yep. You guys remember Savannah, right?"

"Oh yeah, I like her." Emily chimes in before groaning and leaning back in her chair. "Ugh, I don't know if my guy is going to be busy."

You shake your head and smile, teasing her with a sympathetic tone. "Well, if he has any sense, he'll drop whatever he's doing to come with you."

Emily flashes a grin at you, silently telling you that she'd talk to you later about outfit details. Spencer is lost in thought for a second before you see him frowning.

"Spence?" You ask slowly, tilting your head.

He hesitates for a moment before looking at the three of you. "Do you guys think Rossi will let me in without a date?"

"No." Rossi's voice suddenly rings out as he walks by, blowing on his steaming coffee to hide his grin as he beelines to his office.

Derek snickers and claps his hand over Spencer's shoulder. "There's your answer, kid."

Later that day, you're hunched over your desk and nursing your headache with a cup of tea as you read through some reports. Just as you were about to reread the paragraph you zoned out on, you hear your name being called.

Raising your head up and blinking away the blobs swimming across your vision, you see Aaron standing in front of his office door, hands on the railing as he eyes you. "My office."

Standing up slowly, you feel your muscles aching as you stretch a bit. When you've made your way into Aaron's office, you see him leaning back against his desk, arms crossed.

"Yes, sir?" You ask and slowly come to a stop in the middle of his office.

"You've heard about Dave's party next Saturday, yes?" He asks lowly, eyebrows drawn together.

Nodding in confusion, you wait for him to continue.

"And his terms for the night?"

"Uhm, yes, I have. Is this about the bet being made, sir?" You prod gently, wanting to know if he was trying to sleuth out who was betting what.

"Yes." He answers with an unyielding gaze, looking unsure of himself for a moment. "I was wondering if you had someone you were going to bring."

"Oh." You blush a little and smile smally. "No... A lot of us are still trying to find dates."

Aaron huffs in amusement and nods. "Yeah, Dave's really stepping on our necks this year."

"He just wants an excuse to cook more, I'm sure." You chuckle softly.

"It wouldn't be the first time..." He smiles before clearing his throat and straightening up again. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me that evening as my plus one." He says, looking at you gently.

It feels like the wind is being knocked out of you as you stare at him owlishly. "Me?" You ask dumbly.

"Yes, it's okay if you would prefer not to though, I know this is very sudden." He reassures you.

Blinking rapidly, you see the slightest bit of pink creeping across his ears. "Oh, no, I would love to be your date for the party." You answer quickly, not wanting to let the opportunity slip through your fingers.

"Really?" He says with a bit of relief, the stress immediately dissipating from his face.

You nod and smile shyly, fiddling with your fingers. "Yes. I'm happy that you thought of me."

Aaron nods back and tries to compose himself a bit. "Of course... and I'm happy that you agreed."

Grinning softly at him, you chuckle a bit. "Well, I'll call you this weekend so we can settle the details, if that's okay..."

"That's perfect." He answers quickly, his eyes warm and filled with an indistinguishable emotion.

"Great! Well, I'll, uh, leave you to it then." You slowly back out of the room, shooting him a reassuring smile and fleeing back to your desk in disbelief.

When the night of Rossi's party finally turns up, you're anxiously pacing around your apartment, checking your outfit for the fifth time. Aaron had insisted on picking you up, ever the gentleman.

Time trickles by slowly, and when you finally hear a gentle knock on your door, you're practically flying toward it. Checking the peephole for a split second, you swing the door open and your eyes immediately dart down to the bouquet of roses in Aaron's hand.

"Oh!" You sputter out in shock, taking a moment to gather yourself. "Wow, they're beautiful. Thank you..." Blushing brightly, you smile as he hands you the bouquet.

"You look beautiful." He speaks gently, but his gaze is intense as he takes you in.

"Thank you. You look amazing..." It's clear that you're a bit flustered as you hurry to quickly put the roses in a vase, eyes continuing to flicker to his figure in your doorway.

He was in a black button up that hugged his arms and torso in ways that had you almost faceplanting with every step.

You're amazed that you manage to make it down to where his car is parked without your knees giving out as his hand ghosts over the small of your back the entire trek there.

He opens the passenger door for you and waits for you to get in before gently closing the door. It was driving you up the wall how gentle and warm he was being, and you almost wanted this to be a real date.

As he drives you both to Rossi's mansion, you speak softly to him, trying to ignore the way he steers with one hand on the wheel.

"Spencer texted me yesterday. He's bringing a girl he met at a coffee shop." You smile softly, meeting Aaron's gaze as he rolls to a stop at a red light.

"Really? That's good." He responds quietly, smiling fondly at the mention of Spencer.

"I know. He was worried about it all week, but I don't think he realizes how many women are attracted to him." You chuckle softly, nodding subtly toward the windshield as the stoplight turns green.

Aaron nods and grows quiet. A few minutes of silence pass before he speaks up, voice laden with nerves. "I'm grateful that Dave made the bet."

"Really?" You respond in surprise, wondering if it was because he was going to be a couple hundred dollars richer by the end of the night.

"Yes because it gave me the push I needed to finally ask you out."

Your lips part a bit at his words, butterflies swinging around your stomach and buzzing to the tips of your fingers. "Aaron?"

"I don't want tonight to continue with the pretense that I only asked you out to win the bet." His voice is mellow and growing more confident by the syllable, eyes occasionally flitting to yours as he drives on the highway. "I've admired you for a long time as an agent and a friend... and it didn't take long for that to turn into something more for me."

"Why are you telling me this now?" You muster up the courage to ask, leaning a bit closer to the center console between your seats.

"Because I realized these feelings were only growing everyday I saw you. Even if it's selfish, I want to be honest with you." He braves another glance at you.

You let out a heavy breath full of relief as you smile brightly at him, the setting sun casting a glowing pool of pinks and oranges across your beaming face. "I like you too, Aaron. I have for a long time as well."

Aaron's free hand reaches for your hand, and you happily let him tangle his fingers with yours. It was clear that nothing more needed to be said between you both, the connection between your hearts growing stronger with every ounce of relief and adrenaline that filled you both.

The feeling of his calloused hand in yours keeps a buzzing warmth coursing through your body for the rest of the drive.

When you pull up to Rossi's opulent house, neither of you notice the curtains of the window by the front door moving as your team take turns peeking outside when they realize Aaron's car has arrived.

Aaron walks with you to the front door with his arm around your waist, a bright glint in his gaze as he's radiating unadulterated joy.

Neither of you even pretend to be sheepish when the door swings open and Penelope's squeals meet your ears, everyone piecing together the puzzle when they see Aaron holding you close.

"We were starting to think you both got lost." Rossi's voice rings out as he chuckles and beckons you both in, looking at Aaron with an impressed smirk.

"Thanks for having us, Dave." Aaron grins, squeezing your waist before loosening his hold to let Penelope tackle you in a hug, Emily and JJ's enthusiastic questions not far behind.

"When did that happen?" Emily gapes, excitedly poking your side and raising her eyebrows.

You hug JJ and answer her from over JJ's shoulder. "The day you all made the bet. I told you guys that Aaron's full of surprises."

"Remind me to never bet against you in the future. Well, someone get Derek over here." Emily shakes her head in disbelief as you all slowly migrate toward the kitchen.

Aaron's hand finds yours again as you triumphantly smile, "Oh right, I hope you all brought your wallets! It's time to pay up."

"My man!" Derek's voice echoes around the house as he emerges from the wine cellar, beaming at Aaron. "Where's your date?" He asks, clearly unaware of the proximity between you and Aaron.

Aaron holds up your joined hands and chuckles. "I think this means I win?"

Morgan nearly drops the bottle of wine in his grip as he swivels his head for a double take at you both.

Rossi leaps toward Morgan, arms extended forward as panic seeps into his eyes. "Careful! That's 1860 Madeira!"

Morgan groans and lets Rossi wrestle the bottle from his grip. "Will you ever let us win at something, man?"

Aaron's chest rumbles with a chuckle as he rubs your knuckles with his thumb and shakes his head in amusement. "Not a chance."

[bigball-thefrog]

hi!! do you think you could write something where the reader has similar powers to Kyoshi from Avatar and like Zoro or any other character sees them use their power for the first time since they don’t really like to fight. Thank you!!

Hello!!!! Sorry it's been so long, I've just finished exams and am now on holiday for the next three weeks so I could only finish your request now. I hope it's close to what you wanted that you enjoy it

Warnings/Tags:

None just fluff

______________________________

Narrator POV

Shit shit SHIT!! Was all Zoro thought as he ran in every single direction as he tried to find you. It was like any other fight they had whenever they went to these islands but this time you got separated and were alone with particularly strong enemy. Usually Zoro would trust his Nakama to be able to fight and defend themselves but you? Zoro saw you as this pacifist that wouldn't and couldn't fight and just waved a bunch of fans around for a distraction, so you going against an enemy twice your size worried himself.

He eventually found you near a cliff which worried him even more. He heard you had some kind of power so that must've meant you had a devilfruit, and if you have a devilfruit and you're near the ocean then that's not good. He ran towards you even faster, drawing his swords so he can protect you. But then he stopped, the guy trying to attack you was.. Stuck? He had his feet embedded in the ground and couldn't get them out, how the hell did he do that? And all you were doing was just standing there with your fans in your hands, what on earth were you doing?? But then, you took a step back, breathed in, embedded your own feet into the ground like it was sand then raised your hands and opened the fans. You then threw your hands down and aimed your fans at the ground in front of you. There was a small gust of wind but nothing else what on earth was that supposed to do??? But then the ground started to shake and Zoro fell down.

Zoro looked back at you confused and saw that where you aimed your fans was now cracking and breaking apart. The enemy you were fighting was also on the ground, but you? You were standing still like it was nothing. You once again raised your fans then swung them and pointed them right at the enemies face another gust of wind blew and hit the enemies face and suddenly the cracked piece of land started to fall and the enemy was sent into the ocean with an entire piece of land as well. The ground stopped shaking and you lowered your hands and sighed. You took your feet out of the ground and turned to walk away, when you saw Zoro you perked up a little. "Oh, Zoro! When did you get here?" you asked and tilted your head curiously. Zoro had an expression of shock and was still on the ground looking at the piece of island you just broke off like it was nothing. "What. The fuck. Was that?!!" Zoro asked as he looked back at you. You just chuckled and smiled, "That's my power. Haven't you seen it before?" "No I have not! I thought you hated fighting!" "Oh I do hate fighting but I know sometimes it's necessary for mine and my friends protection." "Wait so does everyone know about this?" "Yes" "Then how the hell did I not know?!" "Now that I think about it, you're always either lost or asleep whenever I actually use my power..." Zoro went beet red when you pointed that out, of he misses out on that stuff thanks to his sence of direction and when he's asleep.

"At least I know you're safe when we get into fights... You've been making me worry about you..." Zoro mumbled as he scratched his neck. Your face went smug and he looked at you confused, "What's with that face?" "I never knew you felt that way Zoro. I've never heard you say something so soft and sweet~" You teased. Zoro went beet red and frowned, "I was only saying I was worried because I didn't want you to be an liability to the crew! It's not sweet and I'm just happy you're not just a little pussy like I thought you were!" Zoro retorted to your teasing. "Yeah yeah... Don't worry, I won't tell the rest of the crew about how much you secretly care about me~" You teased again. Zoro went redder and looked like he was about to shout again so you bent down and held out your hand, "Come on, let's get back to everyone else to see if they need any help" Zoro calmed down and took your hand to get up. Once up he sighed and nodded, "Right, let's go see if anyone needs help." Zoro went of in the wrong direction so you just laughed to yourself and grabbed the back of his shirt, "This way big boy." Zoro went beet red again and just let you drag him back to the others.

______________________________

Something short again this time but I will post again soon and I've got an idea for an Usopp oneshot next that I hope you will all enjoy.

Kelly🐸

[practically-an-x-man]

🤹📓?

Thank you!!!

WIP Ask Game

🤹 - plot points I'm juggling

Like I said before, I've got too many to even describe right now, so I'll just focus on one upcoming idea:

So this is a premise that originally came from @angst-is-love-angst-is-life, actually! We were playing the "how would you whump my blorbo" ask game, and she sparked this original idea (that I've now built out a little more and intend to write at some point)

Basically, Eris is trapped in a meta fighting ring, and Rick is being used as bait to get them to comply. He's got soldiers trained on him at every moment, guns pointed at all times - if Eris tries anything, whether that's escape or carnage, he'll be shot and killed within a moment. Conversely, the more Eris cooperates, the more perks Rick gets: better food, better living conditions, etc.. The captors know there is very little physical incentive to motivate Eris himself, he'll tolerate any matter of torture if it means escape, but the threat of Rick being killed is enough to keep them in line.

As Eris continues to dominate the fights, her captor begins enforcing new rules to make the fights more entertaining: have a hand cut off, lose an eye, undergo more injury in the name of bloody, violent entertainment. Finally, he tells them to throw the fight - they'll be eviscerated, get a week to heal, then make a grand comeback to draw in the crowds.

But when Eris gets to the fight, their pride wins out. They defeat their opponent and immediately turn against their captors - maybe if they're fast enough, they can get to Rick-

They hear a distant, muffled gunshot. When they get to Rick's cell, he's already gone.

📓- the plot of a WIP I haven't (and probably won't) write

Hm... I've got a plot idea based on the Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires, that really plays off the ongoing themes of subtle domestic manipulation and how it's brushed under the rug when the abuser is attractive and well-liked.

Basically, the premise is that James Harris (the vampire) has a long-term life partner (a werewolf) who over the centuries has been manipulated and groomed to feel that he's an incredibly caring, loving partner, when really he's pushed her away from what she loves and has isolated her. They go through patterns of this: he's distant and manipulative most of the time, but becomes an incredibly caring partner surrounding the full moon, when his partner is in pain and dealing with her transformations, and this intense care during her vulnerable moments is what keeps her tethered to him.

When they move to the Old Village, the werewolf joins the book club and finds friendships there, and through those friendships is able to recognize the abuse she's been dealing with for (unbeknownst to the book club) hundreds of years. As the vampire plot kicks up, she's torn between her love for James and what she knows is morally right, but eventually sides with the book club. She's been codependent for so long that she's lost without him, but gradually finds independence and genuine love through Patricia (the main character of the book).

There are a few reasons I don't plan to really write this or post it. One, there's not really a fandom for this to begin with, hardly anyone I've seen has even heard of the book so it would be tough to find traction on this piece. Two, because it deals with such intense themes of abuse and manipulation, I'm worried it would come across as me glorifying those things rather than criticizing them (you know how the internet is). And three, I'm actually planning to recycle that idea of werewolves as defenders of their towns rather than ruthless monsters into a novel I'm writing, so I don't want to run into any issues there.

[tinyglitterrose]

Omega?

Part 1, Lashton, boyxboy, 18+

Omega Ashton, Alpha Luke (+ Alpha Calum & Michael)

Warnings: SMUT, O/B/A

(Ashton is 22 in this one and the others around 20 but they look like 2021/2022.)

Summary: No one knows Ashton recently presented as an omega. He goes into his first heat and needs Luke to help him who's trying to resist that...

and ofc: don't like? don't read

---

No one in the band bad found out yet. Ashton drowned himself in scent neutralizer every few hours and it was a constant battle against his inner self to not do anything submissive like dropping to the ground to give Luke a foot massage when he complained about his new boots hurting or taking his vest off thus leaving him shirtless when Michael complained about the temperatures just before a soundcheck.

He didn't want them to know that - for whatever weird reason - he had two weeks ago presented as an omega after having been a beta for almost four years. It made absolutely no sense to him.

Having to secretly go see a doctor and explain the situation, then getting a huge supply of scent neutralizer was the most humiliating thing he had ever had to go through. And even worse, the store had been out of suppressants so he was scared shitless of his first heat. He had read a lot about omegas, heats and whatever else that related to it that he could think of since Tuesday two weeks ago.

No one really knew why he had suddenly presented as something new at 22. The doctors only suggestion had been that his body had been repressing it. That made no sense to Ashton, something must have gone wrong.

Really wrong. He hated his new urges, his new feelings. Hated being around three alphas even though he loved his boys dearly.

He had made it a habit to always stay behind in the dressing rooms and help the make up artists and stylists clean up. They didn't question it but they gave him weird looks. He had also made it a habit to stay behind on the tourbus to make everyone's bed and clean used dishes. He had made it a habit to minimize the time he spent rehearsing on the drums. It was so loud and surely the three alphas must be annoyed everytime he messed up. And it was just generally annoying, wasn't it? Just like his voice so he talked less in interviews, concerts but also every day life.

Calum had asked him a few times if he was okay but Ashton was eager to nod and smile, giving a small yes. He had to be happy, he couldn't be annyoing when he was happy, right? Not overly happy, though. Just enough for them to be able to forget he was there and that they didn't worry about him.

"Luke, come on, clean your shit up", the boys were arguing when Ashton entered the bus. Immediately he wanted to fall to his knees and apologize for something that wasn't even his fault.

"I said I'll fucking do it later, Cal, you're getting on my nerves"

"No, Luke, don't be a dick, your clothes are everywhere!"

"Cuz I dropped my suitcase!", the blonde raised his voice and Ashton could hardly supress a whimper, his shoulders drawing up tight.

With quite steps he forced himself to get out of the corner of the bus door and opened the slide door to the bunk beds. Luke's stuff was all over the floor.

Ashton cleaned it. He cleaned it all up, even neatly folded his clothes into his suitcase then put it back on his bed.

He kept releasing tiny whimpers, hands shaking a little everytime he heard one of the other three boys shout at another one. God, how he hated being this weak. He felt like a baby.

And he also felt stupid. He had come to the bus to reapply his neutralizer. But then he had cleaned Luke's stuff instead and he had forgotten.

And now his bandmates were looking around looking for an omega. Ashton pretended to look, too.

"Man, she smells hot, if she's single -"

"No, I smelt it first, give me a chance first"

"We haven't even found her, where is she?"

"Why do you think it's a her?", Ashton asked quietly, hoping to not be obvious. Luke and Calum gave him non approving looks for a second, Mike didn't even notice.

"We can smell that, Ash, you wouldn't understand", whether Luke had intended it or he was just distracted,his voice sounded cold. So cold that tears formed at Ashton's eyes and he quickly rushed to the nearest bathroom.

They thought he smelled female? So he wasn't just weak and a crybaby now but also female? The drummer released a sob he couldn't hold back. He hated it, he hated his new self so mluch, how could this be who he was supposed to be?

And no one was coming to check on him, he was alone and hiding in a public bathroom, hating his new self with every fibre of his being.

He avoided his bandmates for the next few days, always storming off stage as soon as a show ended and hiding in his bunk bed or hotel room.

His friends has meanwhile come the the conclusion that the omega must work with them, be someone on their crew and Ashton quietly cried himself to sleep one night when Michael and Calum discussed how distracted they were cuz they could still smell 'her' on the bus.

And from still reading on the internet about his new self in every few minute he could find, he had found out what it was supposed to feel like when he was going to have his first heat.

Ashton dreaded it. He despised it. He was terrified.

He had drowned himself in neutralizer this morning but when he joined his bandmates and they immediately started not so quietly whispering about smelling her somewhere close again, he knew it didn't work as well as it usually did today.

What made the day that was packed with interviews and radio station visits even worse was when, halfway through around 12 o'clock he felt something in his underpants.

His eyes widened with panic for a second before he realized he had not peed himself. It was slick, that stuff that he had read online would drip out of him, making him wet and - he had never felt more disgusted of himself. He was a beta, he had been, he was supposed to be. He shouldn't be leaking from his fucking ass.

Only 4 more hours, Ashton prayed to himself, 4 more hours and you can go and cry and hide in your hotel room and possibly suffocate under the sheets so you won't ever have to experience this again.

By the time he could finally do that - run to his hotel room like he was being chased by a demon, while trying to hold back tears - he had taken off his jacket and knotted it around his waist. His pants did look like he had peed himself now, a dark stain on the back as he had seen when he had hid away in a bathroom during a small break of interviews and had desperately tried to wipe this wet mess away.

He did the same thing now. Pants were discarded on the floor and he was ripping off toilet paper after paper, trying to get dry but it kept coming. Everything was wet, it was smeared all over his thighs and he couldn't even see the toilet paper role clearly anymore cuz he was crying too much.

He was shaking, sobbing, furiously rubbing at his cheeks to wipe away the tears and with an angry shout like cry he ripped one of the big hotel towels off the halters at the wall to his right. He spread it on the bed, then crashed into it.

Surely, his friends were having fun right now, all three of them talking about this oh so hot omega again and who would get to shoot their shot first. And what made Ashton's self hatred even worse is that he wanted those shots. He wanted an alpha. That stupid need for something was growing and he felt himself getting more desperate, gasping for breath inbetween sobs and slick sliding down the back and inside of his thighs with every clench he felt.

He hated that it was doing that. He didn't want to feel his fucking asshole begging for something inside of it. He wanted to chop his dick off because it was hard and leaking, the tip a flushed pink where it was pressed to his stomach, staining his shirt.

He didn't want this.

His phone rang but he ignored it. He was fine, to the boys everything was okay. And once this stupid heat was over, he would make even more of an effort at being good. He would clean more and do more things so they didn't have to do as much.

He was only an omega after all, and they had to be like servants to show they were worthy, right? Well, Ashton had never thought that of any omega but he thought it of himself. He had to prove he belonged to this band of three alphas, that he deserved to be with them and travel the world with them.

The drummer was so focused on what he would do to be more worthy when this was over and how much he hated his current state that he didn't take notice of the door opening.

His own crying drowned out the sound of it and he shrieked when something lightly touched his shoulder, curling in on himself.

Luke.

It was Luke.

His eyes were sad, his face in the most guilty, pityful, broken expression Ashton had ever seen it.

"I thought it was you", Luke said quietly, completely ignoring Ashton's nudity from the waist down, "But I thought no way, that's not even possible... I'm sorry, Ash"

"F-for what?", Ashton tried to stop crying, he was being pathetic in front of this alpha. Since when did he think of Luke as an alpha and not as Luke?

The blonde shook his head. "For being so ignorant. We should've noticed."

Ashton shrugged. Then he bit his lip, his stomach was churning at the presence of an alpha, his hole clenching like it was begging Ashton to ask Luke to help him and pushing more and more of this wet something out.

"I'm sorry for being a freak", he whispered, too scared to look Luke in the eyes, "I'm really sorry"

"Ash"

Ashton rapidly shook his head at the nickname. No, he didn't want any pity.

"It's okay if you hate me, fuck, I hate myself. I'm so disgusting and so weird and everything is so fucking wet and it's clenching - Luke, my fucking asshole is like, like - like spreading open and I wanna ask you to get your dick out! Why do I want to ask you to get your dick out?", he wanted to apologize immediately for swearing at Luke, but the younger one was quick to answer.

"It's your nature.", Luke was calm, the entire opposite to Ashton's frantic rambling, "You're in heat, it's your instinct to want that."

Luke's breath stuttered when Ashton remained quiet this time and looked up at him with big tears eyes, he was becoming aware of Ashton's lack of clothes now. "Shit", he mumbled, pressing a hand to his crotch.

Ashton's eyes followed his hand, another tear slipping from his eyes when he saw what his new omega self was doing to Luke.

"Ash, no, Ash", Luke shook his head, scrambling to wrap him into his arms despite his whimpers, "I won't touch you, I won't touch you, I swear. It's just that you're an omega in heat and it's really hard to hold myself back, god, your smell is so intoxicating, but I would never, never ever, do anything to you!"

"But, but I want that, why do I want that", Ashton was crying again, fingers digging into Luke's arms that were wrapped around his upper body, holding on tightly. He was so scared of these instincts, these wants that he had never felt before.

"No, you don't, Ash. That's your heat, it's the omega in you. And we won't let it win."

"R-really?"

"Yea", Luke carefully pressed a kiss to the trembling boy in his arms. He had never taken care of someone like this, despite being an alpha everyone always made fun of him for acting like an omega. Yet here he was, with his best friend in his arms who was probably the last person on earth that anyone would have suspected to actually be the omega.

Ashton stayed in his hotel room, sobbing and crying everytime that Luke was gone. But Luke always came back, carrying food, bath bombs, new towels - and he informed their management and Michael and Calum of Ashton's new development.

Both boys profusely apologized to Ashton for not realizing it was him, for making him feel bad and they felt so bad themselves. They had to do it over the phone though, a hotel room wall seperating them because they were very aware that they did not have Luke's strength of holding themselves back with an omega mid heat and on no suppressants in the same room.

Luke was struggling, too, Ashton could see that, and he tried his best to hide his constant hard on from his friend but Ashton knew it was there.

And he still wanted it. With every hour that passed and Luke - an alpha that could very much help him, knot him - he was getting more sure that it was him who wanted it, not just his omega nature.

Luke would carefully clean him up, drying off his thighs and changing the towels, and Ashton's cock was always hard. He'd gotten so close to cumming a few times when he would wipe himself with the towel, cuz Luke refused to clean anything but his legs for him. But never quite. He was still so ashamed and sad and scared.

But now the desperateness was growing. His whole dick was dark pink after two days of being hard, Luke had read him an article on the internet that assured him it was normal to near constantly have that during his heat, but it had also said that it stayed like that after orgasming. Ashton hadn't done that once.

Right now, he was lying on his stomach, dick painfully pressed into the damp towel beneath him, while Luke was carefully rubbing at his legs with another towel.

He couldn't take this anymore, he needed Luke to do something. Which was why, when Luke tapped the towel high on his thighs where they almost met his ass, he pushed down.

Luke gasped and pulled his hands away when his knuckles brushed over his bandmates' bare skin but Ashton was quick to grab his wrists.

The side of his flushed face pressed into the sheets from still lying on his stomach, legs spreading, Ashton used all his strength to push Luke's hands where he wanted them.

"Please, please", he mumbled, mouth dropping open into an o shape when he felt Luke's hands brush over his ass, one hand dipping into his crack and - it was gone.

"No", Luke said firmly, making Ashton sob with the coldness of it.

"No, no, please, Luke, please, I need -"

"Ashton, you don't want this. Please stop, I am not incredibly strong"

"Then don't be strong!", Ashton knew he sounded like a child throwing a tantrum now, but he couldn't help it, "I need to cum!"

"Then do it yourself!", Luke shouted, jumping off the bed and stomping to the bathroom to put away the used towel.

Ashton's lip wobbled at Luke's outburst and tears started forming again - god, he was crying so much, it was annoying him - but okay then.

---

this is part one of at least two chapters, obviously a cliffhanger but i couldn't wait til i've finished it and i haven't posted in ages but i miss it so here you go ❤️

hope you like it, feel free to tell me your thoughts and ofc requests are open 🥰

[taigaoftundrablog]

blog 2 (school edition!)

this week has been about what you'd expect from the first week of school: basic stuff, introduction of classes, etc...

it's nothing too special, but i'm pretty excited for it anyways as who the heck knows what high school has in store, probably way too much heckin work but ima try to manage

few things i wanna get out the way

i am taking questions from replies (not from the ask me anything thing) and i'll feature hopefully all of them in the beginning of the blog, basically where this part is right now

i also have settled that i'll be posting this on mondays as it's most convenient for me

THE QUEST FOR A PIKMIN TOWEL

this week i fell in love........with pikmin

i noticed a pikmin 4 branded kitchen towel on the my nintendo store in america but i kinda haven't been able to get it as I'M NOT IN AMERICA

it's the best thing ever like look at this i gotta get my hands on it

the journey i've gone through so far to try and get it is: emailed finnish nintendo support > redirected to uk nintendo support > automated bot messages > went back to finnish support > redirected to german nintendo support

i haven't been able to hear from the german support but my hopes are high that today i'll get some sign of hope from them of me actually being able to get it

guys if i don't get this towel i'll actually cry i wish i was kidding

taiga's amount of time to do things

okay so back to more normal topics, i have realised i have a massive lack of time (sometimes motivation) to work on projects, although i've found a little thing which i've found interesting but actually starting work on it may take a while as i have lots of things piled up

also my lack of time is purely due to my schedule (8am-2pm/4pm school, 4pm-7pm look after kids) and usually at the end of the day i feel a bit demotivated to work on things

some days i also don't get enough sleep (today) so i feel very sleep deprived and overworked and honestly it also really doesn't help with motivation either

i don't think i've done anything gaming-wise either, just been a bit of a quiet week for me, most of it spent on talking to friends

taiga's laptop from school

school started, i got laptop, i can do a few things with it but it'll obviously be for schoolwork like 95% of the time, since i don't really feel like i should be using it for things i'm not meant to use it for, although i'm really sad my drawing tablet doesn't work with it

closing thoughts

so this week has been pretty okay-ish i think, nothing has happened really but i feel like it's been alright anyway as i've at least done a few things

maybe next week will be better? who knows

find out next time in blog number three

[hdawg1995]

Get to know me!

I GOT TAGGED IN A THING! I don't remember the last time that happened! Tagged by: @haelleno Share your wall paper:

its a pixel art i made titled over and over.

Last song you listened to: From Now On We're Enemies. Its a mood and also just makes me feel better on days where I feel too stressed from the nothing I did.

Currently Reading: I'm not gonna lie, i'm currently reading all the non shippy RE fanfics that have sprung up because of the RE4 remake AND a YA book called The Black Dragon Codex. a lot of books haven't been able to draw me in (even this one didn't get my attention right way, i only bought it and started reading it cause its a extension of a fantasy encyclopedia i read as a kid) which really sucks cause i miss reading.

Last Movie: I think it was Glass Onion. Watched it with my mom but she had a hard time paying attention so i spent most of the movie explaining things than enjoying it or following along with the mystery.

What Are You Wearing Right Now: Red Wings shirt number 365 and some running pants. my PJs basicily.

How Tall Are You: i'm 5 foot nothing and some times i'm mad about it but most of the time i'm just glad i don't have to duck into a car or dodge tree branches.

Piercings/Tattoos: they're the same answer so i lumped them together. No. Never gonna happen. I think they're dope on other people but I wouldn't want them.

Glasses/Contacts?: Yup! for most of my life actually! my current pair are blue metal frames that tint blue in the sun. bonus: they have that yellow/blue light layer so looking at screens doesn't hurt my eyes, and i'm told it makes the whites of my eyes tinted blue.

Last Drink: a cold pepsi. nothing special, was just the pop that was in the fridge today.

Last Show: Ghosts (the 2022 version). I watch it with my mom every week, we're having a good time with it and although its mostly second hand embarrassment I like that it puts it on it's head every now and then.

Last Thing You Ate: Dinner! box pasta and some shredded chicken. I wanted to try one of the recipes i found on here but i didn't have most of the stuff i needed.

Favorite Color: Orange! If its orange i'm going to love it and its bright and warm. Runner up colors are blue and green.

Current Obsession: Resident Evil. A friend of mine is playing the remake and i've been watching him stream! and of course the fanfics (although the RE fandom is drinking their horny juice so there isn't actually a lot for me to read at the moment).

Unrelated Obsession: I have been writing little ficlits of my WoL oc being friends with Thancred Waters from ff14 and nothing will stop me from writing about how they are buds.

Any Pets: sadly no. Had a dog who died in 2020 (she was 14 if my math is right). right now closest thing to a pet I have are the three stray cats who use the backyard as a in between since its the only yard without a dog.

Do You Have A Crush On Anyone?: I've given up on perusing crushes. I still have them but I've accepted i'm better off ignoring it than acknowledging it. honestly thought about ignoring this question but i've made it this far!

Favorite fictional character: Thats a long list i'm afraid, so i'll list the same number of characters Haelleno listed. Tomix (DF) Thancred (ff14) Liger Zero (Zoids) Leon Kennedy (RE) Yosuke hanamura (P4) and Arata (Digimon: Cyber Sleuth).

Tag Someone: no :3

[batz-surveys]

3.

Do you put candy canes on your Christmas tree? Yes, I do, and honestly it's a waste because we never end up eating them.

What do you currently hear? The fridges humming.

Do you get snow where you live? I wish! It's very, very, very rare to get snow here. Last time we did, it was like…2017 and it was so wonderful and beautiful, and it stuck around for like a week. I was outside every day in it.

What’s your favorite flavor of Doritos? The spicy sweet chili variety.

Do you prefer to listen to songs with meaningful lyrics? Sometimes.

What’s one language you wish you could speak? Spanish, but that's mostly because I'm half Puerto Rican and I should be able to.

What’s your favorite movie genre? Horror.

Who was the last person to hold your hand? My husband.

Do you have any clothing with animal print on it? Yes, I have like three leopard print dresses.

Do you like bagels? I have to be in the mood for a bagel, but sure.

Do you ever worry about what the world will be like when you have kids? Well, I'm certain I can't have kids, and my husband and I are pretty much set on the idea of never having them anyway. But yes, I do worry about the future because I have to live in it, too.

When was the last time you climbed a tree? I pretend to climb this huge tree we have on the playground at my work, probably at least once a week, haha. The kids get a kick out of it.

Has anything eventful happened today? Hmm… my dog finally pooped for me. She usually just does it for my husband for some reason.

Have you ever seen a hippo in person? I wish.

What’s the relationship between you and the last person you talked to? I'm married to him.

What was the last compliment you received? My husband said my hair looked really good this morning.

What’s something you do too much? Talk to myself, haha.

Do you currently have any bruises? I'm sure I do somewhere on my body.

Do you have a hard time remembering stuff? Sometimes. It's weird. I can remember things from like, 20+ years ago (I'm old, okay?) but lately my short-term memory hasn't been that good. I had covid for the second time last month, and honestly, I haven't felt like myself since. I get brain fog, and I'm tired even after like…nine hours of sleep.

Do you like the band A Skylit Drive? I don't dislike them. I think I had a mixed CD with them on it. Told you I'm old, haha.

Are you any good at HTML? I used to be really good at it. Like, in Myspace days? My friends would ask for help to make their profiles look different. That's right, I said Myspace. Told you I'm old.

What’s stopping you from going after what you want? I need to make money to pay bills. What I really want is to be home, all day, and just create. I want to write, and draw, and paint, and bake, and that can't happen unless we somehow become very rich, or my husband's job decided to pay him double what he makes.

How often do you have nightmares? I get them once in a while.

Have you ever had a re-occurring dream/nightmare? Yes, they were horrible nightmares.

Do you ever sleep with a stuffed animal? No, not anymore, but I still love stuffed animals.

What was the last thing you downloaded on your computer? The header background for this tumblr.

Do you have a digital camera? I do, I have two and my husband has one.

Do you ever cry just to get your way? No, but when it comes to something I want from my husband, I might pout a little.

Who’s someone you want to see right now? My husband, my parents, and my brother. I'll be able to see my husband pretty soon, he gets off of work soon.

Have you ever been to any professional sports games? Yes, a hockey game.

What’s the most boring sport to watch? Baseball and golf.

Do you like lip rings on the opposite sex? Sure, and the same sex, too. I just like body modifications.

What color are your eyes? Brown.

Do you have good or bad vision? I mean, I have to wear glasses when I'm on the computer, so I guess bad.

Are you a vegetarian? I am. It'll be seven years next month!

Have you ever been stung by anything? I've been stung by a bee once.

Is there anyone’s laugh that makes you laugh when you hear it? My older brother's. Anytime we're together, it's more laughter than conversation.

Have you ever parked in a handicapped spot when you weren’t supposed to? I don't drive.

What was the last thing you watched on the television? Friends. Right now I have the football game on, because I know my husband is coming home soon, but the tv is muted and I'm not really watching it.

Have you ever had someone threaten you? Yes.

When was the last time you received flowers from someone? Valentine's Day. I got real flowers and a Lego rose bouquet. I love flowers, and getting them makes me feel special, but I prefer other things.

Is there something you want to say to someone, but don’t have the nerve? Oh yeah.

If you suddenly went deaf, what would be your most missed sound? Yikes, that's actually one of my biggest fears. I can't pick just one thing, so enjoy a word avalanche: I'd miss my husband's voice, especially in the morning or when his southern accent comes out stronger than normal. I'd miss listening to any record The Used has made. I'd miss my mom's voice, my dad's loud-ass yawns, and my older brother's laughter when we've said something stupid. I'd miss hearing my dog snore. I'd miss hearing all my students playing outside, and hearing them call me when they need something or they want me to join in. Hell, I'd even miss hearing my own farts.

Have you ever been to a different country? No.

Do you laugh when someone falls down? If I know they're okay, sure.

What was the last thing you were confused about? Why the kids from the house next to our school were coming to our playground during school hours, when I know damn well my boss had spoken with that family before about that very same thing.

Who’s your favorite band? The Used.

Are you paranoid? A little.

What was the last movie you saw in the theaters? Shit, it's been like a year since I've been to the movies. I'm pretty sure it was the newest Exorcist movie that came out last year.

When you tell someone you’ll call them back, do you usually forget to? Yes, I'm guilty of that.

[mr-cha-n]

A Picture of You

Pairing: Vernon Chwe x fem!Reader

Genres: fluff, angst, smut, Regency au

Warnings: Profanities, mutual pining, hurt, sexual content, unprotected sex, penetration, hand stuff (m. and f. receiving), virginity, mentions of death, Shakespeare

Word Count: 22.2k

Summary: Three years away was meant to quell a decade of unrequited love, but your family home appears not to be the only thing you are returning to.

The pictures on the walls of Sandfort Manor have changed since you'd last been here. Of course, you haven't had a chance to look further than the first few corridors yet, but it is three for three on renovated collections so far. The hedonistic luxury of the rococo-era paintings has completely disappeared, and even the more subdued classic portraitures have been replaced by sprawling landscapes of a distinctly more sombre colour palette. 

Moving into the drawing room that your cousins have excused themselves to whilst you settled back into your room, you are filled with a confusing mix of disbelief and relief as you come face-to-face with the gaudy, oversized portraits of your grandfather that had somehow escaped the culling. At least there are a few things which have survived since your departure.

"Ah, cousin! Have you finished unpacking?" Rosa's voice floats across the room, and you turn your attention towards the sofas set in the middle of the room.

"Not nearly, but there is enough time to finish that later! I wanted to give you all something from Edinburgh, as a token of my gratitude for letting me stay with you."

Swinging your arms from behind your back, you reveal three small parcels, neatly wrapped with paper and ribbon. Hushed gasps of delight leave Rosa and Harriet's mouths, and Joshua gives you a devilish grin that makes him look twelve again. You'd spent hours painstakingly picking out the gifts in the market the week before you left, agonising about whether your cousins would have the same tastes you remembered and scrambling to find any further clues in your correspondences.

Harriet had been the easiest to buy for - her taste for opulence has been set in stone since she'd first gazed at the emerald necklace your aunt bought when Harriet was but three years old. Whilst you could not afford anything close to what she would buy for herself, you were able to commission a fellow student of yours to design her an ornate, painted trinket box to hold her most valuable possessions. The loud exclamation of excitement and look of awe on her face tells you that you'd pitched it just right. 

Josh's gift had taken a bit of time to hunt down, but you'd had a solid idea from the start. The pair of you had always been close due to your shared love of the arts, and even if he rarely had time for them now, you still wanted to get him something to remind him of that connection. The set of traditional bamboo calligraphy tools you'd found would at least look good in a display if he never decided to use them, but the quick ramble of gratitude and the detailed inspection he was giving the brushes suggested otherwise.

Rosa has always been the hardest cousin to buy for. Her naturally private disposition means she rarely talks about herself at all, and you'd only had what you remembered from your shared childhood to go off of. She'd mastered the pianoforte and the art of small talk at the same age that you'd figured out how to sneak into the kitchens for snacks, but you never got the impression that any of it genuinely excited her. After much thinking, you decided to go the more sentimental route and pick up a small, pearl hair clip that resembled one your grandmother had lost when you were children. Her expression has always been hard to read, but the small smile that peaks out as she opens the package is enough to satisfy you.

"... perfect size for my new rings I just acquired from the merchant in James Street! Or, I could use it as a little bag and show it off to all the ladies at the ball at Mounthaven Estate..." Harriet's excited chatter fills the room in a way that makes your heart happy to be back. The paintings on the walls may have changed, but the shadows of your childhood remain, and you are happy to be back with your family again after your years away.

A new voice enters the room, shocking the cousins out of their nostalgic wonderland.

"Mr Chwe, for Mr Hong," The footman declares. 

A pang of panic rises through your chest as the pace of your heartbeat skyrockets. Turning slowly to face the doorway, you are struck with the sight of the man you'd loved since childhood, staring with shocked delight back at you.

Hansol's day had taken a turn for the worse. A dreadful night's sleep, interrupted constantly by a particularly loud warbling bird that arose much earlier than the sun did, was only made worse by the painful boink to the head he'd received when misstepping out of his bed. Despite the dreary start, he'd managed to lighten his mood with a delicious plate of eggs for breakfast, and happy conversation with his sister and mother. 

This had given him false hope. A series of unfortunate events, including breaking one of his guitar strings, the wheel of the carriage coming loose, and, worst of all, the rip he'd found in his last pair of satin evening shoes had him marching over to his neighbour's house like a maid looking for a cup of sugar.  Thankfully, he and Joshua wore similar-sized shoes, and an emergency loan was a far better alternative to buying a new set of shoes.

Stepping into the familiar entranceway, Hansol greets the footman on the door, waiting to be let into the house. The process of formality is still amusing to him. Having to wait to be formally admitted to a place he'd rampaged as a child, and continued to lounge around weekly, is paradoxical, but it doesn't bother him too much. The polite small talk with the footmen had quickly morphed into a rundown on the latest changes about the house, and he revels in being able to tease his friend about things Josh hasn't even disclosed to him yet. This morning, however, a different footman has taken the position of manor bouncer, and the loss of the daily update is yet one more sour addition to his day.

Walking into the drawing room, it takes him a moment to recognise the new figure in the room as you. At first, your simple muslin gown, which had been hitched up into your petticoat, makes him mistake you for a lady's maid or kitchen staff. As you turn around to face him, Hansol feels a wash of warmth fill up his body, and he realises his mistake. You are older, your hair tied back in a way he's never seen you wear it before, and you stand a few inches taller than he remembers - but it is unmistakably you. 

"Miss Y/l/n! I wasn't aware that you'd returned to Sandfort!" He exclaims, unable to say anything more as the words falter in his mouth. You are looking at him with a polite smile and shining eyes and he swears that he's never seen anything like it. You look down, shuffling your feet and fixing your dress before looking back up at him.

"I just returned today, my Lord."

- My Lord? Hansol tries to keep the perturbed look off of his face at the formality of your speech. At the realisation that you hadn't simply been looking down but that you were actually bowing at him, he fails at this goal.

Any thought of correcting your address is quickly swept up as Joshua gleefully approaches him, extending a neat box in hand towards him.

"Hansol, look at this! Y/n brought us all gifts back from Edinburgh! I suppose you must be awfully jealous that you did not receive anything, but I'll let you borrow them if you want."

Hansol looks back towards you, noting the shy smile on your face and the lack of eye contact that you are offering, and turns back towards Joshua, giving him an impressed nod. 

"They're great quality. I didn't know that Edinburgh had a market for such things."

"I got a trinket box, and Rosa got a hairpin! Rosa, turn around so he can see..." Harriet surges forward, offering him a wide smile. As instructed, Rosa turns to the side to show him the hairpin already attached to her head after bowing her head in greeting. 

The jovial countenance of your cousins is a confusing juxtaposition to the formality wavering off of you. Hansol wonders if time in Edinburgh has changed you so much that you've become unrecognisable to him, or if he's done something to offend you. The stormy thoughts plague his mind as Joshua and Harriet prattle on about their plans for the day, which he hardly catches on to. All the while, you remain stoically silent and comparatively expressionless except for a few small, polite smiles. 

"... Why are you here, by the way?" Hansol catches the quizzical look Joshua is giving him, and realises he's been asked a question.

"Oh, um, I ripped my last pair of satin shoes and was wondering if I could borrow a pair for the ball tonight?" He replies, forcing his mind back to the conversation at hand. 

"Ah! Of course, let me go grab a pair. I know exactly which ones you should have!" Joshua smiles in a discomforting way, and Hansol wonders if he has a spare pair of jester's garb waiting for this exact moment. 

You're stuck in the same position to the side of the settee. 

Rosa and Harriet return to their seats quickly after Josh hurries out of the room, and you and Hansol are left standing together. You'd hoped that he'd go and sit with your cousins so that you could excuse yourself, but his unmoving stance tells you otherwise.

Your heartbeat jumps once again as he addresses you. 

"Miss Y/l/n, how was your time in Edinburgh?" His words are polite, and his gaze inquisitive, but it makes you shift uncomfortably nonetheless.

"Oh, it was very fulfilling, my Lord! My mentor, Mr Edgeworth, believes that I have honed my craft enough that I will be able to find sculpting work soon, and having such a good connection to the Ton is a great advantage for me. There were a great many different types of artists in Mr Edgeworth's school so I really got to learn and meet a lot of different people, and - well, I'm very grateful for my cousin's sponsorship."

Hansol's eyes are asking you to continue talking, but you are overwhelmed with the attention and your tendency to ramble on about art, not to mention the way he's looking at you, and you cut yourself short. A sheepish blush trickles up your neck, hiding the heat in your cheeks under his gaze.

"And you, how are you and your family, my Lord?" 

"They are well, as am I. My father is away attending to business in London at the moment, and Sofia is clamouring to join him, so I suspect that she and perhaps mother as well will soon travel to the city soon."

"You as well? Or are you intending to stay in the country, my Lord?" 

"I shall stay here for a while, at least until I am obliged to return to London. I much prefer the estate in the summer, and there is much to do still."

Hansol's hands run over the sides of his chest as if wiping off imaginary dirt, and you cannot help but follow them with your eyes. He is very much the same boy you knew, just in a man's body. The larger build and more defined bone structure are the only clues that he has aged, and you wonder if he thinks the same thing about you, or if you are unrecognisable to him. You'd developed a lot across the five years away, leaving behind the bony, formless teenager and growing into your body. An image of your mother, your father had told you in his last visit a year ago. The bittersweet knowledge that he'd been able to see you grow up before passing was more than what your mother was granted, and you wonder if being back at Sandfort has left you defenceless to the floods of memory.

You must have been staring into space for a long while, as Joshua returns to the drawing room and you are met with a concerned glance from Hansol.

"Ah, of course! The air is much nicer in the country..." You feel yourself cringing at your clumsy conversation skills, hoping he doesn't take your lack of speech as a lack of interest. "And, I suppose you must be preparing for your next role at the Solaris? If you are still participating in the summer show?"

Hansol has been acting in the Solaris theatre summer show as long as you've known him. You remember watching him as a child fill up the stage with an unexplainable aura, and you were sure the whole theatre couldn't take their eyes off of him. Every year he'd gotten the best role for your age group and he'd downplayed the achievement, saying that it was just because of his family name, but you knew that no one else could have outshone him once he got on to that stage. It was an unorthodox hobby for a member of the Ton, and you'd heard a few people bad-mouthing it when you were a teenager, but that never seemed to bother Hansol. In another life, perhaps if he'd been born to the same station you had, you think he would have done it professionally. Last you'd heard, he was still joining in on the plays each summer, but it had been a while since you'd last corresponded. 

The concern has completely melted off of Hansol's face and been replaced with the tooth-bearing grin you know so well.

"Yes! The rehearsals are underway now, and Mr Downey sent out fliers to all of the neighbouring towns so they're hoping for the biggest crowd yet!"

It warms your heart to hear him so passionate about the play, and your mind races thinking about watching him on stage again.

"They're doing A Midsummer Night's Dream - I thought Hansol suited Nicholas Bottom, but they let him be Demetrius," Josh rolls his eyes playfully, setting off Hansol's laughter. The sound of his laugh is so endearing to you, and you find yourself spiralling into your many memories of the two of you, heads back in laughter at something you'd end up getting told off for later that night.

"You can't reach! Just admit it!" A thirteen-year-old Hansol is stretching his hand out to a lily floating out on the lake, cheeks puffed in concentration and stomach hovering ever so delicately over the rippling water. You let out an exaggerated gasp as his fingers graze the tips of the flower's leaves, and that is when he makes a crucial mistake. Too confident in his abilities, he looks back around at you to taunt you for not believing in him, and the last thing you see is his toothy-smiled mouth turning into a gaping fish as he plunges into the shallow, mossy water. The shrieks that leave you are closer to your water-born companions than to any human sound, and, as soon as he's finished spluttering all of the water that had filled his open mouth out, Hansol is quick to join you in your squawking. You hear his mother screech at him as he drips his way back into his house from your room, and smile to yourself, cheeks aflush as you place your new lily on the small planter on your windowsill.

The memory has you stuck, and once again you fill with the same anxiety that you'd felt the moment Hansol had walked through the drawing room door. 

You bow your head once more and excuse yourself from the room with the excuse of your unpacked suitcases. As you get into the safety of your room, you realise your cheeks are flushed, and your palms are indented with shallow nail marks. Huffing at yourself in disbelief, you wonder why such a simple, normal conversation had gotten you so worked up. 

It's not that you have any issue with Hansol, you just weren't expecting to see him so soon. He'd entered your thoughts once on your journey back, and any questions about whether or not you still had feelings for him were immediately answered as you caught sight of him leaning in the doorframe. It pains you how, even after three years, you feel yourself revert into a blushing schoolgirl; left floundering from the moment you see him, whilst he managed to speak to you as if you'd never left.

Except, and perhaps it hadn't dawned on him yet, it was not the same as when you were children. The relaxed attitudes of his parents and your family had allowed you to join your cousins as a child undeserving of exclusion. But, you weren't the same as your cousins, or Hansol and his sister. The illegitimacy of your birth, an unintended consequence of a passionate, yet illicit affair between your noble mother and a common school teacher, removed you from any real standing in society. You could pretend that this wasn't the case as children, but now, grown, it could no longer be ignored.

Your hands comb out the knots in your hair as a loud sigh exits your mouth, your body slumped on the seat next to your window. The wedge between you and Hansol was predestined, and it is essential that you understand the limitations of your position. The thought of bringing shame and scandal to him is far scarier to you than a few hurt feelings you've already been nursing for over a decade.

The sun gleams through the windows of Joshua's study as you excitedly recount the events of your interview with him.

"... I'm convinced that they offered the job to me because there are no other sculptors living close enough to take on the project, but I will hardly complain about that! Oh, Josh ... thank you so much. I doubt they would have looked twice at me if you hadn't mentioned it; I'm truly indebted to you."

You laud your praises onto your cousin with elation soaring in your chest, as Joshua proudly smiles back at you.

"Nonsense, cousin. You got the job because you are a talented sculptor. Or, sculptress? ... Either way," He shakes his head, "you deserve this opportunity."

Joshua had mentioned that the church in the middle of town had plans to renovate in his last letter to you, but you hadn't realised how fortuitous your timing had been. Looking for a sculptor to craft the statues and decorations for the new building, the Reverend had put out a call for interested craftsmen. To your luck, Josh had overheard the Reverend talking about it and had submitted your name for consideration.

"Oh, by the way, Hansol was asking after your health. He wondered if you were not feeling well the day you came back, and I told him you were fine, but probably weary from travel," Joshua gives you a pointed look, "but, I had also noticed your strange behaviour after his arrival. I thought you two were close?"

You knew that your behaviour had been unusual compared to how you'd previously been with Hansol, but you hadn't realised it was so glaringly obvious.

"Cousin, you understand my position right? I am the daughter of a teacher, not a member of society, and Lord Granby is the heir to the Duchy of Rutland. As much as I feel a part of this family, the reality is that I am not your, or his, equal. I can waver the formalities for you and the girls because we are blood, but any extension on that would be highly inappropriate."

Your arms are crossed, and you disgruntledly wonder if Josh, or your other cousins, had taken any time to consider this. The realisation shining in his eyes verifies your assessment, and you release a long sigh. 

"I'm sorry, cousin. I do not like it any more than you do, but it's just the way society works and my family has felt the scorn of the Ton too much already for me to risk flaunting about in a manner untoward of my station."

Josh nods, smiling sadly at you.

"I understand. I'm sorry I pressed you on it. I was simply surprised because of how close you two used to be, but I hadn't considered how unusual our arrangement as children was. I wouldn't want you to do anything that compromises your position, cousin."

Your irritation at his lack of forethought is flushed out by the kindness in his words and voice. 

"Don't be feeling too much pity for me, cousin," a grin dawns across your face, "I get to spend my time sculpting angels, demons and saints for a wage, whilst Rosa and Harriet are contained to the refineries of society life. I, at least, have much more freedom to choose how my life goes than they do!"

"Thanks to our generosity, mind you," Josh lets out a hearty laugh, grasping your hand comfortingly. You nod your head with a large smile, very much aware of the privilege of your position. 

"Should I start cooking your breakfast as thanks, my Lord?" You utter with a mocking bow, and Josh pulls you back up with an exacerbated laugh. 

"I wouldn't chance eating your food, personally. But thank you for the offer." He replies, and the two of you are left with a familiar feeling of companionship. After a moment's rest, he sharply jumps out of his chair, pulling you towards the door of the office.

"Come, cousin! I've been meaning to show you the new inhabitants of the lake, and we must go now before I forget again!" 

Laughing merrily out of the room, you let yourself be pulled by your cousin into the shining welcome of the sunny gardens.

Hansol has visited the manor twice already this week, and he hasn't seen you once.

Admittedly, he is a common frequenter of Sandfort on any given week, but he feels himself yearning to visit more than usual.

On his first visit this week, Joshua had told him about your job in the church, and that you'd likely be confined to your workroom for the upcoming weeks, if not months. Even with your absence explained, Hansol cannot help but want to know why you were acting so strangely towards him.

One day of chatting and playing parlour games with Joshua, Harriet and Rosa had turned into a second day of riding around the estate. Coming a third day this week, he was running out of activities to excuse his long stays at the manor. 

Borrowing a book and staying to read it ended up being the excuse of choice. Immediately after seeing Rosa perching up on the sofa, book in hand, Hansol exclaims his need for new literature. He didn't miss the perplexed look given between Joshua and Harriet. Yet, after a whole day of reading and discussion, you still have not appeared.

Just as he thinks he might have to endure the embarrassment of a fourth visit, Hansol gets his opportunity. Rosa, who had left a few hours earlier to meet a friend in town, returns to the drawing room bags in hand.

"What did you get, sister?" Harriet asks, nosily poking her head into the bags. The implicit question of whether or not Rosa had bought anything for her did not need to be said.

"Just a few pieces for the summer faire. Laura mentioned that all of the girls are going to be wearing bows this year, and so I thought I ought to get us some in case she was right."

Rosa hands a pink bow over the Harriet, who looks very satisfied at the prospect of being in fashion. 

"Oh, and I got the wire brush Y/n asked for. Mr Shaw, could you please deliver this brush to -"

"I can do it!" Hansol cuts her off, too excited to see the looks that the Hong family gives him. He clears his throat, recomposing his words and hoping his mind will join soon after.

"I mean- I was about to head off, anyways. I'm happy to drop the tool off with Miss Y/l/n on my way?"

Rosa gives him a sceptical look, and it's clear to Hansol that they are both aware that your studio is not on the way out of the house, but she chooses to say nothing, and he is very grateful. He has to stop himself from walking too quickly as she hands the brush box over to him with a small nod.

Your studio is, actually, far from the exit, and not a room Hansol has visited before. Descending to a level he has never needed to visit other than to access the kitchens, Hansol soon puzzles his way to a large set of wooden doors with clay stains on the handle, and congratulates himself for finding the right room.

He hesitates outside the door for a few moments, slightly apprehensive about bothering you whilst you are working, but the brush in hand gives him the confidence to rap his knuckles against the door. From the outside, he hears scuffled movement and a rustling of fabrics, before a voice calls out to welcome him into the room.

Walking into your studio is like walking into a museum. Walls with rows of statues made out of a variety of different materials but all stunningly impressive stare back at him, as his mouth gapes into an unspoken wow. He wonders how many of them are for your project at the church, and how many are just practice versions that will never be seen in public. He's always been impressed by your art since you were children together, but he hadn't expected the treasury of masterful sculptures that you have created for yourself.

"Ah, do you have -" You look up, and your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline in shock, ""My Lord! I'm sorry, I didn't realise that you were visiting; I thought you were Rosa!"

Hansol realises that in his awe he's just stood at the entrance and has yet to speak to you.

"They're incredible ... I knew you were always good at art, but I didn't realise how good you've become," He marvels, and if he's struggling to word his astonishment, he's glad that he can at least sing your praises. A slight blush bruises your cheeks at the compliment, and he cannot comprehend that you haven't been extolled enough to have gotten used to it yet.

"Ah, thank you. They're not finished yet, but this one is the closest yet to the vision in my head."

"How come you've used all these different materials?" He asks, pointing back at the wall.

"The church statues are going to be in marble, but I am most familiar with clay. So, I've been making prototypes in clay and trying to translate them into different materials before wasting any of the marble," You explain softly, spinning the clay head in your hands, "My lord."

His heart feels heavy once again at the use of the formality, and he feels you building up the same barrier as you did in the drawing room. Lifting his eyes to meet yours, he gives you an injured expression.

"Please, we have known each other for so long, Miss Y/l/n. The formal titles really aren't necessary."

Hansol watches your expression shift in a way he can't decipher, as you work out how you wish to reply.

"Okay, Mr Chwe, if you are sure?" You hesitate, looking uncertainly at him. The satisfaction of the moment is slightly hindered by the knowledge that you are only doing it at his request, but he still considers this a crack in the barrier.

"I am certain. Surely you were not gone away so long as to forget me altogether?" He asks, hoping his attempt to lighten to mood will make you feel more comfortable.

"The men in Edinburgh were certainly a lot more punctual," You crack a sly smile as you tease him, and he feels his whole mood lighten as the glimmers of your old relationship flick on, "but I suppose I did miss having someone to count constellations with."

Hansol hadn't expected you to bring up stargazing, but the fondness in your voice sends him straight back to the nights you'd spent staring up at the darkened sky pointing out different formations together. It is one of his favourite activities you used to do together too, and he is surprised it has come to your mind over the kitchen raids and horse races that you always seemed to enjoy the most. He feels an unwitting smile stretch across his mouth at the memory.

"We might have to go out again soon, I'm not sure that I can remember them all still."

"I'll be happy as long as we can see -"

"Cygnus, the winged rescuer." Hansol finishes. Cygnus had always been your favourite constellation to spot. He remembers when you'd first learnt the story, and you'd recounted it to him that night, passionately acting out the beautiful tragedy of the two friends. You'd been so impassioned about it, and when he'd asked why you liked it so much you'd said that the pinnacle of love was knowing you'd dive to the bottom of the ocean just to give your loved one the gift of peace. It was a raw insight into your brain that he'd see again and again as you spent your young summers together, but he will always remember that first revelation.

You are looking at him in a way that suggests that you didn't think he'd remember that, and he feels wounded that you could ever think that.

"Yes, although with the stormy nights we've had this week, I'd be grateful to see any stars at all," You say, looking back down at the half-formed head and shielding your expression from his view.

Hansol feels the air in the room shift, and realises that he shouldn't overstay his welcome too long when you have work to get on with.

"I'm glad you're well, Miss Y/l/n. I'm looking forward to when the clouds decide to clear away," He nods his head at you in farewell, spinning on his heel to leave the room.

"Mr Chwe!" You call you, and he's spinning back around even quicker, his heart peaking in anticipation of what you felt you needed to tell him.

"My brushes, you're still holding them," You're smiling at him, but he doesn't see it as his eyes go straight towards his hands in which, as you point out, he is still holding the package he's completely forgotten to give you. Embarrassment flushes his face and he mentally curses his foolish memory for abandoning him once again. All he can offer you is another nod, a sheepish grin, the package which he places gently on the table closest to him, and a swift exit.

White spots blur your vision as you step out onto the warm stone patio, and you swear the sun has moved closer to Earth in the time you've been working in your studio.

You realised that you had to leave that room when you woke up at 3am last night with your drool still stuck to your workshop desk and three empty bowls of previous meals tauntingly toppled on top of the now-stained sketchwork you'd started the morning before. Moving into your bedroom and giving yourself the luxury of one lie-in has rejuvenated you enough to pass as a human again. Now, stepping into the beaming heat, you promise yourself that you will go outside at least once a day from now onwards.

Tiptoeing into the extensive lawns behind the pretty hedged garden, you spot Harriet and Rosa embroidering and reading on some chairs under a shaded tree, and Josh and Hansol curling stones into the expanses of the great lake. Even from your distance, you could hear Josh gleefully shouting out the current score tally, and the look on Hansol's face makes you wonder if he'd even known it was a competition when he joined the activity.

"Oh, she's alive!" Harriet cries, turning around to energetically wave you over to their covering. "What is it they say? 'the dull, yellow eye of the creature opens, and breathless horror fills my heart'?"

"Are you trying to quote Frankenstein?" Rosa's eyebrows furrow in unimpressed scorn. "I wasn't aware that you'd had any time to read lately, sister."

Harriet scoffs, irate that her attempts to tease you had turned back on her.

"I read, thank you! It's important to stay up-to-date with the newest literature so that you are well prepared for any conversation." She sticks her nose up, letting out an over-emphasised huff in Rosa's direction.

"Well, I for one commend you, cousin. I wasn't aware that you'd graduated to books with words." You sit down on one of the empty lawn chairs, a grin cracking across your face as Harriet's face falls from elated to stormy at your jab. You almost want to run back and grab a canvas to capture the expression forever, but before you can think to move she's wiped her face clear and distracted herself with her embroidery again.

"We're going to the faire this afternoon, cousin. Do you want to come?" Rosa turns and looks at you pensively.

The faire had been a staple of town life as long as you'd stayed at the manor, and used to be one of your favourite activities as a child. Brass bands and colourful hobby horses were only beaten by the extravagant arrays of market stalls selling everything from breads and toys to cattle and hand-crafted furniture. You loved searching through the vast arrays of homemade goods, in awe of everything that the human body could create. Yet, you falter when you realise what going to the faire would mean now. The ignorant bliss of childhood had washed away the disapproving stares and catty whispers that darken your memory. People already thought that you were scrounging off of your cousins, and your ambition to disprove their judgements sours any thought of flaunting your borrowed wealth in front of the people you hope could respect you.

"No, thank you though," You look down, guiltily fiddling with your hands, "I have a lot to do today, but you must bring me back a treat from the market."

Rosa nods with a content smile, before looking back at her book. You feel a pang of uncertainty about your decision, but you think it's ultimately for the best.

It's not long before the quartet head off to the faire, promising to bring you back a gift. Your eyes linger on Hansol's retreating figure as you have the chance to fully take in how much he's grown since you've been away. If you could go back and tell your younger self that he's found a hairstyle that suits him even more than the cute ringlets that curled around his ears you think she'd laugh in your face. And yet, you're struggling to deal with the swell in your heart when you look at him just as much as she had all those years ago.

You aren't able to motivate yourself to go back inside and work that afternoon, instead justifying your procrastination by taking a small drawing pad outside and practising your colour theory with portraits of the rippling lake water first in the beaming white-yellow light of midday, then the gorgeous glow of sunset, and finally the mysterious purple and navy starscape as the sun dips behind the horizon. You'd tucked yourself away from prying eyes under a large willow at the east side of the lake, feeling a burst of freedom within the natural world you rarely get to encounter recently. Your cousins returned a little while ago, and you could see the candlelight of the drawing room illuminating the shadows of the setees through the closed curtains.

You almost jump out of your skin as the bush to the side of the willow rustles in time as the pliant branches of the tree are pushed to one side.

"Oh, sorry! It's me!" Hansol jumps back, matching your reaction as if he is shocked to see you too.

"Sorry to interrupt, and to scare you. I just wanted to bring you this," He apologises, moving forward arm outstretched. It's hard to see in the dark shadows of the willow, but you soon realise that he is holding a deliciously oozing cream eclair in his hand. Your rumbling stomach overtakes any sense of decorum at this moment, and you lash out to grab the baked good, sighing in eclair delight as the pastry hits your tongue.

Hansol lets out a chortled laugh at your actions, but doesn't say anything, instead perching next to your chair to look at your array of drawings strewn across the grassy surface.

"Was the faire fun?" You ask between bites, your words slightly slurred by the sheer amount of pastry filling your mouth.

"Yes!" He nods, looking back up at you with wide eyes. "I don't think anything could ever beat the year they had the hot air balloon, but this year there were these steam wagons which were rather cool - not as pretty to look at though."

You hum impressed, finishing off the eclair.

"It was a shame you couldn't come. You would have liked a lot of the stalls - there was a gentleman selling small stained glass pieces, and another woman who made these crazy detailed woven rugs." He adds, eyes sparkling as he recollects all of the wares you'd missed out on.

"Ah, next time, maybe." You sigh, trying to offer him a small smile of gratitude.

"By the way, did you know that Lord Bolton will be coming to visit soon?" Hansol asks, and you don't remember being told this information.

"No, I didn't. Lord Bolton was the man who was courting Harriet last season, right?"

"Yeah, Harriet mentioned he was on his way down at the faire today. The way she mentioned it, I figured she'd forgotten to tell you, but I thought you should know before you get a shock tomorrow morning." He laughs, settling more comfortably onto the lawn, so that his body is propped up by his elbows and his legs rest out into the grass. You have to force yourself to avert your gaze as he looks up at you from his position with a cheesy grin that shows off his teeth and shreds your heart to pieces.

"Didn't the connection fall through? Why is he still coming to visit her?" You ask, frowning as you try to remember the barrage of letters Harriet had written you during your time away. She'd shared with you that a potential match she'd be excited about in a previous letter hadn't worked out, and you'd thought that was the end of it.

"I'm not sure, she didn't seem unhappy about it though. Perhaps they're rekindling?" Hansol replies thoughtfully.

The two of you continue to talk until the purples and blues are replaced by pitch black sky, covered in a cloudy ambience. Hansol tells you about the latest project his sister is working on and offers comfort when you mention your father for the first time since returning to Sandfort. For a short moment, you feel like you never left, and wonder how you managed to pull yourself away from it all the first time. The dull background light coming from the house does nothing but backlight Hansol in a beautiful warm glow, and it makes him look angelic as he basks in the evening darkness.

At least he can't see the blush on your face as he reaches out to wipe a remnant of cream off of the corner of your mouth.

"Oh, you've got some - here, I got it," He says, his hand moving far too quickly towards your face for your liking. Dumbstruck, you feel your heart wither in your chest as his finger makes contact with the crease of your lips and cannot look anywhere other than straight at him in shock. As he wipes away the cream with careful precision, your faces are left meters away from each other, and you see an unreadable expression dawn across his, before he backs up, awkwardly stumbling further than he'd been before.

"Uh, sorry, I think it's all gone now-"

"No, thank you! I-"

"It's getting dark now, I should -"

"You should be getting back."

You both manage to land on the same thought and as Hansol offers you a quick nod and a farewell, you are left alone once again in your willowy hiding spot.

Lord Bolton was not an enjoyable guest.

You appreciate what you realise was Hansol's warning more than he could ever know, as you excuse yourself from the party mere minutes after arriving.

Within the five minutes you've known Lord Bolton, he's already given you his hat as if you are his maid, made an obnoxious joke about Harriet's dress, and used the word 'bemused' wrong twice. The last one is uttered just as you leave the room, and you almost want to stay just to watch the way Rosa's eye twitches at the error.

Finding Joshua in his study on your prolonged rendezvous around the manor, you realise you are not the only one who's escaped that conversation.

"Are you busy?" You ask, leaning into the room with a soft knock against the wooden door.

Josh shakes his head, beaconing you to come in.

"No, just looking through some of the household finances for the last season," He replies, eyes weary at the thought of paperwork.

"Gosh, he's bad enough that you're up here doing taxes?" You laugh, and he joins you, releasing the built-up tension from his frame.

"You didn't have to spend the last year with him and you're already hiding, what can you expect me to do?" He says exacerbated by the memories of his forced proximity to Lord Bolton.

A thought dawns on your mind, one that you'd been too afraid to talk to anyone about so far.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Your fingers twitch in anticipation, and you're struggling to make yourself say the words.

"Of course, anything," Josh replies, a confused look taking over his features. You let out a deep sigh before rehashing the thought that had been plaguing you since your arrival.

"Where's Elizabeth?"

Lady Elizabeth Moteley, daughter of the Marquess of Bath, is the one staple of your childhood who no longer seemed to be here, and not one person has mentioned her since you've gotten home.

You remember the first time you met Elizabeth and her family. You'd walked down the stairs of the Manor to find your aunt and uncle hosting another family you'd never seen before.

"Ah, Lord and Lady Moteley, this is my niece, Y/n." Your uncle introduced you, holding out a guiding arm for you to join the family.

You'd never forgotten the sneering looks on their faces when they'd realised who you were.

"Georgia's daughter?" They'd asked, refusing to even look at you. Your uncle had given them a sharp nod of confirmation, and placed a well-needed steadying hand on your shoulder.

"Y/n's staying with us over the summer."

"How ... generous of you."

"She's growing to be a very adept painter, a real talent in the arts!" Your aunt interjected and you knew the purpose of talking you up was to take the attention away from the fact that everyone there knew about you.

"Ah, perhaps she can draw a portrait of Elizabeth!" Lady Moteley suggested with a straight-lipped smile.

That was when you'd first seen Elizabeth, pushed forward from behind her mother's dress. She was around the same age as you, with long tresses of dark hair, porcelain skin, and pretty eyes. Her dress was pristine pink, with fashionable bows laced at the back peaking through from the sides, and a sapphire necklace sat upon her neck. There was a shyness to her eyes as she looked at you and, for the first time in your life, you felt inferior in every way to the girl who stood before you.

"Elizabeth is staying with the Chwe family over the summer," Your aunt explained to you. At the time, you didn't know why Elizabeth was there, but as the years passed into teenhood and Elizabeth continued to visit Hansol's family in the summer, you soon realised the true intent of her long stays at the Chwe estates.

Elizabeth's friendship with Harriet was cemented from the moment they met. Their similar interests in fashion and London gossip had the two girls hooked at the arms from the start of summer as if they'd been predestined to be together. Your friendship with Elizabeth had not been predictable. The prejudicial way her parents had talked about you the day you'd met had reflected badly on Elizabeth, and you'd spent the first part of the summer trying to avoid her until you'd realised that you were missing out on time with your friends too and begrudgingly rejoined the group.

The turning point came in the middle of the summer when Elizabeth had found you sniffling on the steps to the lake, eyes and nose leaking into the one handkerchief you owned. That morning you'd attempted to style your hair into the braids that the girls so often sported, but your lack of motherly wisdom or helpful maid left the task rather difficult for you. After spending almost an hour crafting something you were happy with, you'd walked down the stairs to join your party only to be met with Harriet's snickering and questioning whether you'd fallen into a bush on your way to the playroom. The embarrassment of the moment after you'd spent so much time on your hair was a startling reminder that you could never truly fit in with the rest of your friends, and your overwhelmed eleven-year-old body had sprinted out of the room just as the tears had started. Elizabeth had found you not too long afterwards and redid your braids with the adornments of some of the small flowers by the side of the lake and the promise to teach you how to do it yourself the next morning.

By the end of that summer, you'd confined in Elizabeth every detail about your life, from the details you knew about your mother, and your annoyances about your cousins, to the small crush you'd begun harbouring on the boy she'd been living with.

When she returned the next year, one year older and a few inches taller than you, hand in hand with her future husband, you felt a level of despair and betrayal unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. You spent the summer watching Hansol kiss her hand and carry her over the puddles of mud that the two of you had played in the day before, and you realised that you could never have what she had. A match made between a Marquess's daughter and the future Duke made perfect sense, and you felt like a fool for not realising it earlier. What hurt the most was that it was a side to Hansol that you'd never seen before, and you thought you knew him to the core, as he did you.

At the time, the childish jealousy that ruined your whole summer had you convinced that Elizabeth had done it on purpose - befriended you so that you would tell her your secret and she could crush your heart. With some perspective, you soon realised the petty motivations of your slanderous thoughts, and had to admit to yourself that her refrainment from telling you about the engagement was more likely meant to spare your feelings than any great ploy to hurt you further. Elizabeth continued to be nothing but kind to you, even writing to you in your first year away, and you still feel bad for the barrage of curses your twelve-year-old self had wished upon her that summer.

You'd decided you had to leave Sandfort the year that the pair of them got formally engaged. It is embarrassing to admit that the push you needed to follow your passions was the trivial heartache of a crush long past its expiration date, but you are glad that you finally cut yourself free and gave yourself the space to find new meaning in your life. You expected to get news of their wedding every year you were been away, but although Hansol was mentioned in Elizabeth's letter to you, there was no suggestion of the actual event occurring.

When you realised you wanted to return, you half expected to come back to Hansol and Elizabeth already married, and that no one had remembered to tell you. Yet, Elizabeth wasn't here, and Hansol had yet to mention her name.

Josh is staring at you with a troubled look, seemingly struggling to word his thoughts to you.

"Elizabeth's still in London at the moment. Her grandmother passed away at the start of the year, and she wanted to stay with her family after the season ended to help sort out the estates."

His mouth closes and you realise this is all the information he's going to give you. Irritation flares in your chest and apparently it is as clear to Josh as it is to you, as he gives you a small shrug in response.

"Still in London ... okay. And is she going to come visit at all this summer?" You prod, hoping to glean some of the knowledge he's clearly hiding from you.

"Um, I guess so? I'm not too sure, you'd have to ask Hansol." Josh replies, and you're stumped at his nonchalant demeanour.

"Right, ask Hansol. You're so helpful." You grumble, giving him a withering look before turning back out of the study. You hear him sigh from behind you, but don't give him the satisfaction of looking back to check as you storm away from him and Lord Bolton's incessant chatter downstairs.

Hansol's back in your studio, and updating you on a message given to him by the priest that morning.

Unlike last time, you are completely dressed for comfort and ease of movement, not expecting to see anyone other than the cook the whole day. Donning a pair of thin, brown trousers, a loose white shirt, and a short apron that tied at the waist and did little to stop the clay from getting on your other clothes, you are an unorthodox, but comfy, picture.

Hansol is looking straight up at the sculptures on the wall as you begin chatting about the latest update to the project, and you think he must have found something particularly intriguing to look at with the intensity with which he's staring at the art.

Your rambles fall off as he has still not said more than a few-word answers, and the room is filled with a stale silence you don't understand.

"Have you sculpted before?" You ask, wondering if the art he was focusing on was inspiring his creativity, and he finally snaps his head around to look at you.

"I'm not sure I'd be much good at it."

"I'm sure that's not true! How can you know if you have never tried?"

His face scrunches up as he thinks about your response, before letting an agreeing nod loose.

It dawns on you that you have a lot of spare clay left over from your work today, and before you realise you quickly find yourself asking if he wants to try it out. You feel your hammering heart calm slightly as he agrees but you are filled with excitement that you get to share your passion with him.

You reach down to pick up the resting clay from your tray on the floor, and looking back up you feel like someone's stabbed you in the chest. Your eyes go cartoonishly wide and you almost choke on your breath as you watch Hansol strip his jacket and waistcoat from his torso and loosen the linen shift from his trousers as to turn it into a makeshift smock.

He looks back at you with a sheepish smile, and you hope to God that your face has returned to a normal expression.

"Don't want Mr Jones's wrath if I get clay stuck into the fibres of the jacket," He explains. The reason makes total logical sense, and yet your head is dizzy with the mental gymnastics your brain is engaging in. Realising that the only cure was to stop looking at him, you turn your attention back to the pottery wheel, trying to set the clay upright without your hands shaking too much.

It's clear Hansol does not know what he's doing, and you don't think your absentminded coaching is helping much. After a few more minutes of gentle guidance and no progress, he drops his dirtied hands from the clay, and scoffs at the misshapen lump sat before him. You're telling him that he's getting the hang of it, but it's not true, and you're struggling to keep the endeared laughter out of your voice as you look at his creation.

But, looking at the clay, you can see the starts of a pot forming, and you think that if he just keeps going he'll be able to create something he's satisfied with.

"Here, let me help you," You say, entranced by the clay. Before he can say anything more, his hands are back on the clay, and yours are covering them, your fingers guiding his in a mesmerising pattern. His hands are softer than you expect, and you imagine that yours are rather rough from the weeks of labour you've put into your work.

You haven't fully realised the proximity you've just created, your mind solely trained on the beautiful vision in your head. You haven't noticed the way your body is pressed against his chair, just far enough that you're not touching his back, or the way your forearms graze against his and you both move in a steady rhythm. 

You don't realise what you've done until you realise that Hansol is no longer moving at all. 

Frozen for a moment, your instinct battles your desire to stay close. You'd broken all boundaries of propriety in the pursuit of art and hadn't thought twice about it.

You leap backwards, fear and panic bulging in your stomach and threatening to make its way into your throat. He's not saying anything and you feel like you're going to vomit if you don't right your wrongdoing.

"I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to get that close -" The words are tumbling out of your mouth faster than you can keep up.

"It's okay. Hey, really, it's okay." He's comforting you, his hands on your forearms to steady you and it's just making you feel worse. You wonder if you're about to flee from your own studio, but the shame of doing so is weighing up slightly higher than your current predicament.

"- why's Elizabeth not staying for the summer?" Your unasked question has slipped from your lips in your frenzied panic, and you feel your heart drop like a stone into your stomach at the realisation of what you've asked and the look that has now dawned on Hansol's face. Your lack of self-control is truly astonishing, and you feel like melting into a puddle to join the clay on your floor.

He doesn't know how to answer you, and you can tell instantly. His eyes are shifting uncomfortably and he keeps opening his mouth slightly and then shutting it again, and you're such an idiot for bringing this up now. Just as you are about to tell him to forget it, that he doesn't have to answer you, he finally starts speaking again.

"Well, she's got some family business to take care of ... so she's stayed in London for a bit longer to do that. Why are you asking?"

You can feel the word vomit start again, and your shame knows no bounds.

"Oh, I was just surprised she wasn't here. I hadn't heard anything about you two whilst I was away and I assumed you'd ... finished your engagement?" You cringe at your inability to talk about marriage in a way that didn't make you sound like a child.

A flash of anger and hurt crosses Hansol's face as he jolts up out of his seat and you know you've pushed too far. 

"You shouldn't speak about things you don't know about."

You are promptly left alone with his words and the sinking pit in your stomach dragging you into spiralling darkness.

You realise that the first dinner party you'd ever attended was a poor imitation of the real thing.

Harriet has spent the last week planning it, and, based on your limited experience, you initially wondered why it was taking so much time, but as you stare at the vast platter of food and drink, the ornate decorations purposely draped around the room, and the string quartet setting up in the corner you finally understand her stress. 

Guests are about to start pouring through the doors, and you're filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension. On one hand, you know that the priest, Reverend Lee, would be in attendance today and you couldn't wait to fill him in on all your plans for the church renovations. It's been almost a month since you started working on the project now, and you moved onto marbles last week after finally plucking up the courage. You think it's been going well, but you'd love to show the Reverend your progress tonight if you get the chance to hear his opinion. His jovial attitude means that you aren't scared of his reaction, but a few nerves still flutter in your stomach at the thought of having your work judged.

On the other hand, you know that Hansol will be coming. You haven't seen him since the pottery incident, and whether it has been you or him avoiding the other is hard to tell. You want to apologise, tell him to ignore your ignorant questioning, but you are scared that bringing it back up will just agitate him more. You haven't plucked up the courage to ask anyone else about it, deciding that it is clearly a personal matter to Hansol and that he should be the one to talk about it when he wants to. But, deep down, you still want to know what is happening with Elizabeth.

The first guests to walk in, escorted by a three-glasses-deep Harriet, are Mr and Mrs Heath, the couple that owns the popular town inn on Cannon Lane, and your nerves are quelled by the sight of other people not in the nobility. Mrs Heath is quick to embrace you, asking about your time away and telling you how much you've grown since she last saw you, as Mr Heath smiles along, nodding but hardly saying a word.

As the other guests arrive, you feel at home chatting with people you've known your whole life and catching up on all that you've missed. Mr and Mrs Heath's daughter went to London for the first time last season and is supposed to be bringing home a mysterious but handsome baker she's met. Lord Tully, an old friend of your grandfather, went abroad to the continent for the first time, and he regales you with stories of high-stakes gambling dens in Paris and the beautiful landscapes of the north. You manage to get an audience with Reverend Lee, who tells you about his son who's set to return to the country soon and agrees to go down to see your work after dinner ends.

Dinner is about to start when Hansol arrives, slightly soggy from the evening shower and carrying an already-opened bottle of champagne. He apologises to Harriet for his tardiness and explains that he got stuck at rehearsal, but had managed to swipe the last bottle, and hopes that the high-quality vintage makes up for it. Even in his damp form, his hair sticking to his forehead, he looks striking and you can hear the Reverend's youngest daughter giggling in delight as he takes a seat next to her at the table. You mentally sigh, realising that you and her are much more alike than she knows.

To your delight, and Harriet's relief, the dinner is spectacular. In all your days at Sandfort, you've eaten many, many delicious meals, but the cooks seem to have gone all out for this one. It reminds you of Christmas time - close friends and family huddled around the table enjoying roasted meats and sauteed vegetables, and it's an atmosphere you wish would never end. By dessert, the topic of conversation has managed to turn to Mr and Mrs Heath's daughter's upcoming nuptials, and you dotingly listen to Mrs Heath retell the story she'd told you at the start of the evening.

"-and his family is from Swansea, if you'll believe it? We've never been but I've heard the beaches are quick joyous. Your Lord Bolton is from Welsh stock, right Miss Harriet?"

Harriet coughs loudly to cover up the fact that she's just choked on a potato.

"Uh, yes! Lord Bolton's family hails from Cardiff, but they've owned an estate in London for a long while now." She answers cordially, flashing a smile at Mrs Heath who seems satisfied at the answer.

"How come Lord Bolton is not joining us tonight? I thought he was up visiting from the city?" Reverend Lee joins, and you can see Harriet's face turning a slightly deeper shade of red as the attention of the table fully turns to her and her prospects.

"He had to return to London for some family business, I'm sure he'll be back to visit Harriet soon," Joshua opts in, rubbing his sister's arm comfortingly and trying to turn the attention away from her.

"Speaking of, will your family be back soon, my Lord?" Mrs Heath is looking at Hansol who hasn't yet noticed that he is being addressed. A moment of silence fills the air before the Reverend's daughter cautiously taps his hand, and his head snaps up to attention to see everyone looking at him. The shocked expression on his face that he struggles to hide is so cute you find a gentle smile has already blossomed on your face.

"Oh, sorry, yes, I think they should be coming back in the next few weeks. My father's just finishing off some business in the city but I think my sister might be a bit bored of all the ribbon shops and florists she's been dragged to by the ladies of society. I'm sure she's looking forward to being back in the country." He hums, taking a large gulp from his cup of water.

"And you, Mr Chwe, we haven't heard of your future plans yet?" Lord Tully asks and Hansol must be expecting the question because his eyes light up as he starts reeling off the details of the play.

"-we've just found someone who's happy to restitch some of the old costumes that are falling apart, and Mr Downey is hoping to get one of those new kaleidoscopes to use in the more mystical scenes! I think it's going to be really great this year." He looks over to the Reverend's daughter, smiling. "You should come, all the young ladies in London know Shakespeare so you ought to start learning soon."

You watch a young girl just about to swoon and pass from excitement at the prospect of Hansol talking to her, and cannot help but see your twelve-year-old self.

"This acting business, are you feeling serious about it? Is it not a bit ....I don't know, beneath you?"

The air in the room stales, and you feel a burst of rage at the words of a Lord you hadn't met, and now hope you never will again. You're eyes are trained on Hansol, who is flicking his spoon around with an emotionless expression on his face, and it hurts even more to see that happiness taken from him.

"Well, I think that giving back to the community can never be a bad thing, can it?" He answers cordially, and you're beyond impressed at his ability to stay pleasant with this Lord.

"Of course, I just think that it strange for a man of your age and station to still be playing pretend when you really ought to be thinking about your family and future."

Hansol is stung by this, and it's slapped across his face.

"Is the pursuit of pleasure and duty not the purpose of modern society, my Lord?" You feel yourself starting to speak, unable to sit and listen to the Lord's drivel any longer. "I rather think that a man able to bring joy to his community is far greater than a man who complains about the choices of others. Perhaps you ought to give it a try, my Lord - I can certainly think of a few roles you may suit."

The silence crawls in again, and you feel your throat close up with every moment that passes, the visceral fear that you've gone far beyond your station seizing you as your heart hammers so loudly that you can hear blood gushing in your ears. 

But then Joshua lets out a barking laugh, muttering something about giving and taking, and the rest of the table is close to follow in an attempt to diffuse the tension in the air. You cannot look back at the Lord, who is surely cursing you out in his head, and the moment you make eye contact with Hansol you wish you hadn't looked at him either. He's staring at you with an expression you wish he'd stop immediately or never stop again. You force yourself to look away, turning to find that, thankfully, the Reverend is telling his own story of being cast as the fool in King Lear as a youth. Relief flushes your body that the Reverend has not taken offence at your outburst as you recognise that your actions could have just lost you your job and any other prospects of working in this town.

The rest of the dinner is fairly uneventful, save for Joshua's attempt to woo the crowd with a well-balanced handstand walk. Hoping to get to the Reverend before he leaves, you slip out into the hallway from which the guests are leaving and almost walk right into Hansol.

"Woah there! You could cause an accident moving at speeds like that!" He teases, nudging you with his elbow.

"I'm so sorry. I really wasn't expecting someone to be standing stationary behind a closed door." You smile innocently, but despite your jesting you find solace in the fact that he's talking to you like normal again.

"I wanted to say -"

"I'm really sorry-"

You both start talking at the same time, and Hansol gestures for you to continue.

"I just wanted to apologise for the other night. It was wrong of me to pry into your business and make you uncomfortable." You apologise, trying to carefully bring too much attention to the topics of either Elizabeth or the pottery as to not make him feel worse about the situation. Although, you have to admit that avoiding talking about the pottery is more for your sake than for his.

"There's no need to apologise. I also wanted to say sorry for getting so riled up. I think I was taken by surprise when you asked the question and I got defensive and took it out on you. It wasn't a fair reaction at all. Can we move on from it?"

You stick out your hand, mimicking the way that you used to end arguments when you were younger, and Hansol lets out a gorgeous laugh, grabbing your hand and shaking it in turn. You ignore the way your fingers itch to interlock with his again as he lets your hand go.

"I also wanted to say thank you for tonight," He smiles softly, checking that the Lord was not in earshot. "I've had people say stuff about the acting before, but never quite so brazenly."

You want to tell him that he's the best actor you've ever seen, and that he shouldn't let the words of one wrong man stop him from following his passions, but you see the Reverend gesturing you to join him from over Hansol's shoulder and realise you can't miss your opportunity to show him your sculptures.

"Well, I have to have the leading man at the top of his game for my first play in half a decade," You settle with, "I have to get going, but I'm really glad you came tonight."

You skip over the Reverend Lee, a hint of a 'you too' shadowing you as you flex your fingers, trying to dissipate the tingling feeling doing wonders on your palms.

Hansol has had lots of time to think about what you said and what Lord Dudley said. He's sat out by the side of the lake, a stormy frown taking over his brow as he tries to organise his thoughts.

Despite your reassurances, he is still left wondering if there is any truth to the Lord's words. Has he really abandoned his duty to his family in order to rejoin the play? He hadn't participated in it for the last two years, busy with business and family, and he wonders if his choice to start up acting again was actually just an excuse not to return to London.

He is at least glad that doing the play has let him see you more. For you to return to town after such a long time and be disappointed when you don't see him on stage is enough motivation to get him reading lines again.

Yet, the fear remains in the back of his mind. He is a proficient musician and an avid reader, but he does not enjoy sports or cards or any of the other hobbies befitting of a gentleman of society, and he wonders if acting is really so far beneath him that it should cause this much scandal. He watched you go off in pursuit of your passions, and he sometimes wishes he could too. It's silly really, for him to sit here and complain about not being able to do what he wants when he, of all people, has had the world given to him on a silver platter, yet his desires to cut loose and follow his dreams are tethered by his duties to his family, his title, and, even if he did not wish to think about it, to Elizabeth.

He must be a brooding mess to anyone looking, Hansol realises as he flicks away the crunched-up grass that is stuck to his palms. The sun is low in the sky now, and the growl of his stomach is clueing him that it's probably almost dinner time. Wiping his hands clean on his trousers, he gets up, ready to head inside.

He is stopped in his tracks by the sight of something bobbing in the lake. On closer inspection, Hansol realises that a small, stone structure is floating closer to him. Sheer delight fills his body as he sees that the structure is, in fact, a small marble lilypad, and he cannot believe that you also remember his quick trip to the bottom of the lake. This time his arms are long enough to reach out and grab the lily, pulling it delicately into his hands. Marvelling at the beauty of the sculpture, Hansol feels the worries of the day washed from his body at the visual reminder of your care.

Hands gently clasping the lilypad, he searches around the edges of the lake for you. Just as he predicts, you are walking towards him from the part of the lake that sits in your family's garden with a huge grin that is making his heart melt. You are wearing a simple dress, yet you look so beautifully at home in nature. As he thinks about your clothing, the memory of you in those trousers enters his mind, and he has to shove the thought away before the blush becomes visible on his face.

"You reached it!" You say, smiling proudly at him. He nods happily, stretching out the lilypad to show you even though he knows that you're the one who'd made it. "I must admit, though, I was rather hoping you might fall in again."

"What an awful thing to say! What if I had fallen in, gotten a chill, and died? Would you still be laughing?" Hansol feigns offence, and you laugh a sound so wonderful that he thinks that he should have fallen in on purpose just to hear it some more.

"You're right, I'm sorry!" You're still laughing, clearly picturing the image of him headfirst in the water. "No, really! I would never wish harm upon you."

"So convincing." He huffs, puffing out his lip and crossing his arms in mock anger. A beat of silence passes, but this time Hansol feels totally at ease. Something about your presence had him feel calm no matter what.

"By the way, it's amazing." He says, taking in all the delicate details of the ornate flower. "I can't believe you've made it look so real."

"Thank you! I thought about painting it to make it even more realistic, but I realised that the paint would just wash off in the lake. But I could paint it properly if you want to keep it?"

"What? Of course I want to keep it! It's by consolation prize!"

Hansol watches your expression drop, and he realises that he's just accidently let on about his sombre afternoon ponderings.

"Are you feeling okay? You looked a little bit down sitting over here, and I thought that maybe this could cheer you up?" Hansol's moved by your care, and he takes a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain his feelings to you.

"It definitely did cheer me up, I feel much better now. I guess I was just deep in my own head." He starts, struggling to let the details free.

"About what that Lord said?" You ask, and he chuckles at the fact that you still don't know Lord Dudley's name.

"Partially, yeah. And also about Elizabeth." He looks up at you, and your brow is crinkled with concern.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

"I want to ... the reason why Elizabeth is still in London is because she had an affair."

You let out a small gasp, a pained expression covering your face and Hansol knows that you are hurt for him. 

"Hansol, I'm so sorry. That must have been awful to find out."

Hansol's heart stops as he hears you say his name. You don't seem to have noticed it, and he prays that you never do notice and revert back to the previous formality.

"I'm okay, really. It was a few years ago, with a married man. I didn't want to break my promise to her so we remained engaged, but her parents found out this season which is why she has stayed in London. I wasn't hurt by it, I mean we both knew that it wasn't a marriage borne from love. I guess it's just hard to see the point now when neither of our hearts are in it."

He's watching your face as he releases the information, hoping that you aren't too overwhelmed. Two years' worth of updates that he never told you, not wanting to ruin the fun you seemed to be having in Edinburgh, squished into a few words. He watches your expression turn from sympathy to shock, and then to confusion. 

"What ... what do you mean neither of your hearts are in it?" You ask slowly, and Hansol blinks, trying to work out how to finally tell you everything he's wanted to tell you for years.

Hansol goes back to the day he realised that he was in love with you.

It is the first summer after you're departure, and Hansol is bored out of his mind. He didn't realise just how dull the summer is without you here, and nothing is cheering him up in the way it used to.

That morning he goes out to the lake to catch frogs, but he soon realises that not even that is any fun without you. Giving up on his frog-catching plans, he grumbles back over to the lawn chairs behind the back of the house, pulling out the book that you'd recommended to him. Caught up in the torrid affairs and melodramatic scenes of the book, he doesn't realise the time passing until he hears loud voices move into the dining room situated next to his hiding spot.

"-glad the girl is gone." Listening in, he recognises the voices of Elizabeth and her mother, who'd come to stay for the first part of the summer. Lady Moteley not liking someone? How novel.

"They weren't together, mama - I'm sure of it!" Elizabeth responds, and Hansol's interest is a little piqued at the direction of the conversation.

"Please, Elizabeth. Trust me," Lady Moteley sighs, "The way that he was looking at her last summer - I've seen it a million times in the eyes of men gazing at their mistresses on stage at the opera. It's very normal for a young man to want to explore his physicality before marriage, especially with a lower-class woman; it's just a shame that she lived right next door."

Were they talking about you and him!? Hansol's back jumps rigidly in his chair, shocked at the revelation. He knows that you and he have never been together, but the confidence with which Lady Moteley is speaking is making him question his own memory.

"I really don't think they've been together in that way, mama." Finally some truth from Elizabeth. "But I do know that there was ... love? When we were younger?"

Hansol completely blanks out the rest of the conversation as his mind zeros in on that word. Did Elizabeth think that he was in love with you? No, you were his best friend. Of course he liked spending time with you and wanted to know everything about you - that's just what best friends did!

Hansol's head is spinning and his thoughts are racing too fast for him to comprehend. Soon, he's running into the house on a mission to get answers. Arriving at his parent's bedroom, he taps on the door and hears his mother beckoning him inside.

"Hansol, honey! Are you alright?" She's talking to him and he can hardly think straight at all.

"Yes, I'm fine! Can I ask you a question?" He asks hurriedly and she gives him the go-ahead. "What is love?"

His mother lets out a little laugh at the question, and he can't help but feel a little silly standing here asking his mother what love is at the ripe age of 18.

"Well, honey, I think lots of people experience love differently," His mother notes the dissatisfied look slapped onto his face. "But, if I were to answer for myself, I would say that love is waking up feeling happy that your person is waiting right next to you, and mourning their loss when they go away. It's feeling like you can tell them everything and wanting to, and in return wanting to know every little thing about them, good or bad. It's feeling safest in their presence beyond all other measure. And, I suppose, there are a few other considerations for most people - usually you might get a certain feeling when you look at that person, or perhaps you might feel a bit nervous around them?"

Hansol is creating a checklist in his mind, and the answers are not looking in his favour.

"Honey, is this about Elizabeth? I know you might be a bit anxious that you're not feeling anything yet, but there's still lots of time for love to blossom. And, many successful, fulfilling partnerships are built on different foundations than love."

Hansol is nodding along, but his mind is squarely set on one thing. Thanking his mother, he bursts out of the room trying to find a quiet space to organise his thoughts.

If he did love you, he could not pinpoint when that love could have started. He'd always enjoyed hanging out with you the most, always wanted to look after you and of course he missed you deeply now that you were one. And, sure, if you'd asked him as a child who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, he'd have said you - oh god, he is in love with you.

He's in love with you, and he may have always been.

You're looking up at him, face scrunched up in confusion and apprehension, when Hansol realises that he still has not replied to your question.

"I - you don't know?" The sentence comes out as a question even though he already knows the answer. But you're still shaking your head and he's still trying to work out how he's going to tell you this.

"Well, I suppose, like Elizabeth, my heart is ... already spoken for." He breathes, his voice as quiet as he can manage as to not spook you away. He's struggling to meet your eyes, but he's hoping the unspoken implications are enough to clue you into what he's thinking.

You take a step closer, and he feels light-headed.

"You're in love with someone else?" You whisper, trying desperately to understand his meaning. Your eyes are shining brightly, and your lips are slightly parted in confusion, and his gaze keeps moving between the two of them. The tension in the air is so thick he thinks he's going to be sick.

"Y/n..." Hansol murmers, unable to say anything more. You're clearly taken aback by the use of your name, but this is quickly overtaken by the dawning realisation of its implication. He's trying to desperately restrain himself from moving towards you, but all he wants is to touch you, hold you, and draw you closer to him.

He follows your eyes move from his eyes to his lips and then back up again. As you step closer once again, the tether holding back his unravelling mind is snapped and he moves forward, grabbing your arm gently and pulling you close, the other arm travelling around you to the small of your back. Your faces are so close to each other now, and he can feel the warmth of your breath on his lips and it is intoxicating.

He's looking for any sign to keep going or to stop, but you are frozen still and the seconds pass by like hours, until you give him a small nod and his lips are pressed against yours with no hesitation. Your lips are softer than he's expecting, and he hopes that his inexperience isn't ruining it for you, but then you sigh and melt into his arms, and all other considerations fly out of the window. You're kissing him back, and he could never have imagined how good it would feel as you run your hands through his hair.

A few moments pass and he's forced to break away from you, gasping for breath and cursing his inexperience. You are looking at him with impossibly round eyes and swollen lips, and he's quite sure it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Then, he's reaching back out to you and -

"Hansol!" A loud yell tears through the backyard, and you both jump back in shock. His eyes shoot wide open as you step back, clearly taken aback by the interruption.

"Hansol, I know you can hear me!" His brain is playing catch up when he recognises that the voice is his mother's, meaning that his family has just returned from London. "You'll never guess who's here to see you!"

Elizabeth is here and so too, unfortunately, are her parents.

Hansol feels bad that he's being so miserable, but Elizabeth's matching scowl suggests that she has a lot more to worry about than his brooding.

For the last two days, he has been forced to give the Moteley's a tour of the town they'd known for over a decade, entertain them at breakfast, lunch and dinner, and not once has he had the chance to find you and explain what is happening. Ditching you after confessing his love and kissing you was not at all a part of his plan, and he hasn't even been able to hear you talk about your own feelings. He can't even imagine how you are feeling right now.

Hansol and Elizabeth are walking along an uneven path in the woods on the outskirts of town, able to have their first conversation alone since Elizabeth's arrival at the house. She's clearly just as miserable as he is, and Hansol feels bad that he hasn't checked in with her yet.

"How are you doing? I hope your parents aren't giving you too much trouble..." He trails off at the pointed look Elizabeth gives him.

"I wish. I really thought that it was worse to have the constant questioning of why we aren't married, but I was so wrong. It's so much worse now." She sighs, and Hansol feels his heart drop for her.

It wasn't Elizabeth's fault for falling in love with someone else, and he knows that he is actually just her parent's punishment of choice.

"My parents have been asking about it too. Apparently, the Ton is all in a tizzy about a three-year engagement period." He adds, rolling his eyes. He's not sure that this is comforting but, at least, he hopes that Elizabeth knows that he understands how she feels.

"It would have been so much easier if we'd just gotten married when we were engaged, then none of this would have happened!" She huffs, and Hansol gloomily wonders if he'd have ever worked out his feelings for you if they hadn't waited to get married.

"I'm sure there's a solution..." He tries to reassure her, but even he is struggling to see a way out of this one that ends up with everyone happy.

"Hansol," Elizabeth has stopped walking and is now holding onto his hands, a desperate look on her face. "My parents are not happy about the affair, at all. They've threatened to kick me out if I'm not married by next summer. Please," Oh, shit. "You once told me that it didn't matter to you, please tell me that you meant it."

Hansol feels his whole world melting away. He's finally managed to confess his feelings to you, but how could he break his promise and condemn someone to destitution just for his own selfish desires? There is truly no right choice in this situation.

"I did mean it," He sighs deeply, wondering if he's about to make the biggest mistake of his life. "I won't let them do that to you."

You feel like you're twelve again, watching Elizabeth get everything you've ever dreamed of.

The emotions of your kiss with Hansol have yet to wear off, but now they are tangled with despair, anger and heartbreak as you watch from the sidelines as they stand there, hand-in-hand, happily announcing the date of their wedding. For two people with no heart in it, they are holding each other painfully close.

How could you ever believe that you could compete with Elizabeth? Perhaps she'd been moved to the back of Hansol's mind whilst she was away, but now she's back and Hansol's priorities are crystal clear to you.

No one is looking at you, least of all Hansol, and you're glad. No matter how hard you try, you know all of your emotions are splattered across your face - your brow in a permanent scowl, lips pinched together, and a dangerous level of pain in your eyes. You are surrounded by people cheering and smiling, and every time you hear the clap of hands together, you feel it like a bullet through your chest.

The announcement is ending, and you are the first to leave, practically sprinting to get away from this place. You don't know where you're going, but you do know that you cannot be around anyone right now. Streaking away from your neighbourhood and towards the grassy outskirts on the edge of town, you hear your name being called behind you and you ignore it.

"Y/n!" The familiar voice calls. "Y/n, please, wait!" It's getting closer and you curse your flimsy shoes and long skirts for stopping you from running. You feel fury blazing across your body, and you cannot believe that he feels entitled to say your name right now.

"What?!" You spit, spinning on the spot to see Hansol chasing after you, a few feet behind. His face is pale and he is breathing heavily from running after you.

"Please, can we talk about this? I'm so sorry-"

"You want to talk about this? I hate to break it to you but you're about 72 hours too late for that." The scorn is dripping in your voice as you cannot contain your hurt anymore, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Are you going to tell me that you made a mistake? You've loved Elizabeth this whole time? Or do you want me to be your commoner mistress to ease the pain of your loveless marriage? Because I don't want to hear it!"

Hansol's mouth is opening to try and explain, but he closes it again as he seems paralyzed by your words.

"I sincerely hope that you are happy together, my Lord." He does not get the chance to speak as you're already gone, racing into the vast fields ahead of you. You feel like your breath has been captured and taken away from you as you wheeze for air, tears flurrying down your face. You wish he would just leave you alone, go off and be happy with Elizabeth and never look back to you. It would hurt less than him trying to have both.

You barricade yourself into your studio for the next two weeks.

You know your cousins know something's wrong now - Rosa keeps looking at you pitifully, Josh won't stop visiting you as you work, and Harriet straight up asks you what is going on. You can't bring yourself to explain the situation to them, not wanting to rehash the memory and, despite everything, not wanting to bring shame to Hansol.

At the very least, you think that your art is the best it's ever been - hours and hours of dedication poured into the marble sculptures that take a form you could previously have only dreamed of. The deadline is creeping up on you, but thanks to your recent hiatus on normal life, you think you'll actually be able to finish everything in time.

You don't know if Hansol has tried to see you again - as far as you are aware he hasn't, and none of your cousins have suggested anything otherwise. Half of you is filled with relief that you don't have to see him and that he actually listened to you, but the other half cannot help but miss him desperately. You curse your rotten mind for being so fickle after what he's done to you, and it is almost amusing how much more you miss him now than you did for the three years you were away.

You've spent more than a few nights up throughout the slumbering hours, finding more solace in your work than you can in your sleep. Every time your head is forced to hit the pillow, your dreams are filled with him, that night by the lake, and what your future could have been like if Elizabeth never came to visit all those years ago.

With a deep sigh, you attempt to clear your head. The Reverend is coming later in the day to check on your progress and start moving statues over to the church if all is deemed successful. You need to focus.

You manage to whittle away the next few hours making minor adjustments to your already completed statues. Looking them over once more, you can't help but feel a proud sting in your chest. Despite your life seemingly falling apart before your eyes, you truly have done something you weren't sure you were capable of. Your studio is so full that you've had to start moving some of the small items into your personal room, and it truly did look like a museum. The only thing left for you to do now is to work on the marble that had already been attached to the church, and you feel sorrowful knowing your project is nearly over.

Soon, the Reverend and a few of the townsfolk are at your door, happily signing off on the statues and beginning the preparations to have them moved. Knowing you wouldn't see the statues again only the unveiling of the church at the end of the month, you are finding it surprisingly difficult to part with them. The elegant faces have been your sole companions in your misery and losing them feels like losing a friend.

"Wow, I can't believe you're almost finished ... the room feels so empty now." You startle at Josh's voice behind you. Somehow he's sneaked into your studio without you noticing, and is cradling one of the small proto-type models that you get to keep.

"I know," You smile softly. "Cousin, I - I need to tell you something."

Josh's eyes flash in confusion before a look of understanding dawns on his face.

"Ah. I think I might know -"

"I'm leaving."

Josh jumps, eyebrows raising in surprise. You've caught him off guard and it isn't nice to see his usually so confident demeanour turn downcast.

"Oh! That wasn't what I was expecting..." He starts, giving you a pouty look. "You're totally convinced?"

You nod, sighing gently as you pour over your decision in your head.

"I think it's the right thing for me right now. Once I've finished the project, I have nothing tying me here, and I'll have enough saved up to get my own place, so I won't be scrimping off of you anymore." You try to smile reassuringly, but it falters quickly at the sorrowful expression on your cousin's face.

"This is your home too, you know that right?" He refutes, and you can't help but be moved by his attempts to dissuade you.

"I know, I do. I just think it's time for something new." 

"Is this about Han-"

"I can't talk about that, Josh." You interject, your heart aching in your chest. You feel your breathing getting more laboured as you are confronted with the truth that your cousin knows. You must admit that it would have been strange for them not to notice your languishing at all, but you didn't realise just how obvious your feelings must have been.

Josh moves forward, grasping your hands.

"I don't know what happened between you two, or what is happening now with Elizabeth, but I do know that you have been miserable since the wedding announcement. All I want is to see my cousin happy, and if that means leaving all of this behind, I understand. I just wish I could do more to help you."

You feel tears prodding the corners of your eyes at Josh's sincerity. You know you cannot tell him any more details, afraid of ruining his relationship with Hansol and causing more issues, but you're beyond grateful for his support.

"Josh, I -" You're taking deep breaths, trying to calm yourself before you let the emotions of the entire situation get a hold of you. "I don't know if I can be happy here."

He nods, reaching forward with a handkerchief to wipe the tears away from your cheek.

"Okay, you have to promise to keep in touch though. And visit regularly?"

"I will, I promise."

Hansol hasn't slept for two weeks.

Nights tossing and turning turn into at most a few hours of slumber, but he is constantly plagued by his own decision and the burned-in memory of the tears falling down your face.

Elizabeth seems happier now - she's smiling more and engaging in family activities, but Hansol can tell that something is still troubling her as well. He still hasn't told her about what happened with you, not wanting to add any more stress to the situation. But, without the ability to tell her, or his closest friend, Hansol feels like he's drowning in the thoughts all by himself.

Everything feels like a puzzle he is not smart enough to solve, taunting him as jagged sides refuse to fit together and allow him the clarity to sort through his feelings.

His acting has completely fallen apart. With his heart not in it his lines feel flat and his movements stale, and he can see the concern in Mr Downey's eyes getting larger with each failed rehearsal.

Hoping that another walk will this time give him some coherence of thought, he sets off into town. His mother asked him to grab a few suppliers for her this morning, and its a good excuse to get out of that house and away from Elizabeth's parents. They've been nothing but overbearing since the announcement, constantly asking for more updates, pushing for a quicker wedding, and Lady Moteley had even asked a painful question about whether or not you would be making the guest list. Hansol knows her implication was for you to not be included, and was grateful that Elizabeth quickly shut that down. Not that he thinks you'll come, or knows what he'll do if you do.

A hand appears in front of his chest, forcing him to screech to a halt in the middle of West Avenue.

"Hey, are you alright?" It's Josh, and he's giving Hansol a confused look. Hansol realises that he's been walking completely consumed by his own thoughts, and hadn't noticed his friend walking up to him at all.

"Um, yeah, sorry! I didn't see you there."

"Right, are you heading to the shops?"

"Yeah, are you going that way too?" Hansol asks, not opposed to some company to keep him out of his own head.

"Kind of, I'll accompany you if that's suitable?" Josh smiles, but Hansol sees something spark across his expression that he doesn't recognise.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Hansol says as the pair start to walk towards the town centre. Josh hums in agreement, nodding his head with a rueful laugh.

"I suppose you must have been busy with wedding preparations?" Josh says with a teasing smile, poking his side.

"Uh, yeah, I suppose so." Hansol responds, feeling his mood shift and wincing at his inability to cover it. Josh is looking over at him, and with a long sigh pats Hansol's shoulder comfortingly.

"There's something I think you should know."

Hansol stills at the seriousness of Josh's tone.

"I feel like you're about to tell me you've only got three days left to live." He jokes, trying to lighten the mood and feeling instantly worse when Josh doesn't respond in turn.

"Hansol..." Josh exhales, and for a moment Hansol wonders if he'd accidentally stumbled onto a horrifying truth. "(Y/n)'s leaving again."

Hansol feels his entire body stop, unable to function in response to the new information. His brain has positively short-circuited and he can't form a coherent thought, let alone sentence, to respond to his friend. But Josh is staring at him with a cautious yet sorrowful look, and all he wants to do is understand.

"What do you mean leaving? Like, on holiday? For a year? Forever?!" He splutters, his brain switching into hyperspeed as he tries to make sense of the situation. "Leaving where? Back to Edinburgh? -"

"Hey, calm down." Josh is holding his shoulders still and Hansol doesn't realise he'd been bobbing about with distress, and he's thankful for Josh's intervention because he doesn't think he would have stopped talking otherwise.

"I don't know all the details, but I think she wants to leave for at least a little while. She's going to wait until the end of summer whilst she's finding a place to live, but then she'll be gone." Josh explains and none of it is making Hansol feel better.

"Oh god, this is my fault." He laments. "I pushed her away and I'll never see her again."

As Josh comforts him, Hansol only feels worse for making his friend console him for driving his own cousin away. Josh has every right to be mad with him right now, and Hansol supposes the only explanation is that you must not have fully explained the situation to him.

Eyes wide and stammering, he backs up, feeling even more sick than before.

"I - I have to go. Thank you for telling me. I just - I" Hansol isn't able to finish his thought before he is running back to his home, leaving a baffled Joshua behind him.

"Woah! What is going on with you?"

Elizabeth has found him crashed on the sofa in the seldom-used study in the left wing of the house. Letting out a long groan, Hansol cannot even begin to explain himself.

"Seriously, this is worrying." She stands up to close the door before returning to his side, a gentle hand placed on his arm. "You can tell me."

Sitting up, Hansol looks at Elizabeth's concerned face and supposes that she couldn't really be mad about this.

"I - I've messed it all up." He starts, his voice shaky. Elizabeth frowns, leaning forward to prompt him to keep talking.

"I didn't know that you'd be coming back and (Y/n) came back at the start of the summer and I just completely wiped the engagement from my mind. I thought that it would all work out and you could find someone else, but I made a promise that I have to stick through. But, instead of hiding my feelings like I should have done, I got caught up in the moment and confessed my love and now I've ended up hurting the woman I love and making myself an entirely unpleasant husband to you."

Hansol is blurting it all out, the relief of finally unloading his feelings washing over him.

Elizabeth looks shocked, and Hansol feels bad that he didn't keep her updated about any of this until now.

"You love (Y/n)?"

It's Hansol's turn to be shocked. 

"What do you mean? You know I love her. I overheard you and your mother talking a few years ago and you said that there was love between us?"

"What? No, I knew that she loved you, not that you loved her! Hansol, she told me when we were children, you have never breathed a word of any feelings to me before?" Elizabeth exclaims, backing away from him in confusion.

All this time Hansol thought she knew, thought that was the reason she felt she could tell him about her affair. The reason he realised he loved you - he'd completely misread the situation.

He's expecting her to lash out, even if it would be unfair. He's made a promise to her and now brought his own feelings into the picture, and it's complicating the situation even more so she would have a right to be mad at him. The pained expression on her face suggests that she is feeling the same too.

"Hansol, does she love you too?" She breaths.

"I - I don't know for sure. But there was a kiss..." He feels guilty saying it, and cannot bear to see Elizabeth's expression.

"Oh god," Elizabeth whispers, and he's certain that he's managed to mess things up even more. "Hansol, you cannot marry me."

Huh. 

What?

Hansol blinks in confusion; this is not what he was expecting Elizabeth to say.

"If I'd have known that you love her I would never have asked you to marry me! I thought it was an unrequited crush on her part, but now that I know that you love her too, I cannot stand between you!" She exclaims.

"But, what will you do? How could I condemn you to destitution?"

"Hansol, two years ago you promised me that you would marry me anyways after I admitted that I had an affair. You gave me the chance to experience my happiness and come back to you afterwards. You have to let me do the same. My love was doomed from the start, but yours isn't, and I refuse to be the person to standing in the way." Elizabeth grasps his hand. "I'll be okay, I promise. Let me repay you for the kindness you showed me."

Hansol's head is a spinning mess, but he knows the one thing he needs to do now.

You are unconvinced that you should be attending the summer show at the Solaris, but your cousins seem resolute in dragging you there against your will.

The outside of the grand theatre has been covered with whimsical ivy branches, colourful flowers, and mystical cut-out sprites. As you enter through billowing chiffon curtains, you feel like you are entering into the fairy world. The theatre is lit by candles, and the warm light is bouncing off of the maze of mirrors which are tied to the side walls. The stage is already set with a full forest scene, log stumps brought in to represent trees and a beautifully painted backdrop picturing the magical landscape. Crafted toadstools and grass little the floor, and to the righthand side you see a second panel with the drawings of a castle courtyard ready to be wheeled in for the correct scenes.

Taking your seat, you cannot help but wonder if you still have time to make an escape. Looking to the exit, you see Rosa giving you an unimpressed glance and quickly put to rest those ideas. You're emotions are already flaring at the thought of seeing Hansol again, but you hope that in the dim light of the audience he won't be able to find you. You are at least grateful that you're cousins aren't able to get front row seats.

All too quickly, the narrator is on the stage and the chattering is hushed as the play begins.

You see Hansol seconds before he gets onto stage, his nervous shaking quickly morphing into a confident strut as he bursts to life. He's even better than you remember, hitting the emotional and comedic beats perfectly as the audience melts into his palms. You are slightly in awe watching, and you can't believe that he ever had thoughts about quitting.

As the play continues, you find yourself slowly being transported away from your own thoughts and into the fantasy world in front of you. Mr Downey has done an excellent job, you have to admit, and the actors are giving their all to their roles.

The play is drawing into the fourth act as you feel Hansol's eyes find you.

        "My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,         Of this their purpose hither to this wood;         And I in fury hither follow'd them,         Fair Helena in fancy following me."

His monologue begins, and you are bewitched, trapped under his intense gaze. He is clutching a string clasped around his neck tightly, his other arm reaching into the audience. 

        "But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,—         But by some power it is,—my love to Hermia,         Melted as the snow, seems to me now         As the remembrance of an idle gaud         Which in my childhood I did dote upon;         And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,         The object and the pleasure of mine eye,         Is only Helena."

Your heart is racing and you feel as if Hansol is speaking to you directly. The life drains from your face as he releases the necklace, revealing the marble lily you made him attached to the end of it.

        "To her, my lord,         Was I betroth'd ere I saw Hermia:         But, like in sickness, did I loathe this food;         But, as in health, come to my natural taste,"

Hansol's brow is drawn together, his eyes full of emotion as he speaks. You feel as if he is pleading the words to the audience, to you.

        "Now I do wish it, love it, long for it,         And will for evermore be true to it."

Hansol's eyes have not left yours as he speaks his monologue, begging you to understand his meaning. He knows a great declaration won't make up for the hurt he's caused, but he hopes, at the least, that you know how much he loves you. 

Tears are blurring his vision, but he's almost certain you are crying too, a soft, emotional look capturing your features.

He's moving off of the stage, finished with the scene, but still trying to maintain eye contact with you. Your warm gaze follows him off of the stage until you are physically blocked from view, and he releases his breath, not realising that he'd been holding it since he'd finished his lines.

Hansol struggles to remember the rest of his lines as the show draws to a close. His mind is solely transfixed on you, and he half expects you to walk out, but you stay, you laugh, and you cheer as they bow to the audience.

The applause goes on for much longer than Hansol wants, and even as it subsides, he's being dragged away from the one place he wants to be.

"-thank everyone tonight, you really gave it everything! I've got a few special bottles-" "-staying a enjoy, celebrate together-"

He's tuning in and out of the conversation, trying to think of a way out before deciding he can worry about explanations later. Sprinting out of the backstage area, and leaving a fair few puzzled faces behind him, Hansol prays that you haven't left with your cousins yet.

He thanks the heavens above as he spots you waiting alone at the side theatre door, swaying nervously and fighting with your dress. After two weeks of not seeing you, he's taken aback by how beautiful you look all dressed up for the performance. This is the first social event he's seen you at this summer, and he promises to himself that he must bring you to as many as he can if you give him the chance.

Rushing over to you, he signals for the two of you to slip into the alleyway next to the theatre.

"That was really -"

"Did you enjoy-"

You both start at the same time, and Hansol wants nothing more than to hear your voice as he signals for you to continue.

"The performance was really amazing," You start softly, gazing at him in a way that has his stomach in shambles. "You were really amazing."

"I'm glad you thought so." He says, forcing himself not to just break down immediately.

"That speech -"

"I meant every word of it." Hansol states firmly, resolute to make you understand. Your eyebrows furrow into a sincere expression.

"But ... Elizabeth?" You ask, pained at the mention of his former fiancee.

"We broke off the engagement. Or, well, she broke off the engagement when I told her that I am in love with you."

You breathe in sharply, taken aback by his words. You are struggling to believe what you are hearing, crushed by the overwhelming weight of the confusion, surprise, and yearning that has overtaken your body.

"-I was so caught up in keeping promises and doing my duty, I did the last thing I'd ever wanted to do - I hurt you, I pushed you away and I made you feel like you weren't deserving of my love when, really, I'm the one who needs to prove myself to you.-" 

Hansol is looking at you with so much sincerity and love you wonder how you ever missed the emotion in his eyes.

"-But I need you to know," He steps forward, clasping your hands in his, "that I have loved you for as long as I have known you. And if you'll have me, I'd like to love you for the rest of my life."

You move your hand up to his face, feeling his breath hitch as you run your fingers along his cheek. Your already tear-stained cheeks are wetted again at his words and the hauntingly lovestruck look he's giving you.

"I love you," You breathe, unable to speak louder than a whisper. "I've always loved you. I think everyone knew it, and I could never understand how you didn't know it too."

The air lightens as you both let out a small laugh, your mutual blindness to each other's feelings becoming amusingly clear.

"But," The atmosphere darkens as your thoughts turn stormy. "Hansol, you can't be with me. I am a commoner, a result of scandal at that, and you are to be Duke. It would never be accepted-"

"I don't care." Hansol's fingers are wiping the tears from your cheeks. "I couldn't care less about that people might think. We'll run away, go to Edinburgh or explore the world. Time will tide society's ire, but I'm not willing to waste another second without you."

You let out a choked sob-laugh, completely overwhelmed.

"You're right," You manage to mumble, a smile blossoming on your face. "I'm tired of living for other people."

He nods encouragingly and it takes everything not to pull his face into yours.

"I just want you." You breathe, and Hansol's lips are on yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you feel like the heavens themselves have blessed you. All of your built-up feelings, a decade's worth of love, you pour into his lips. In turn, Hansol is pulling you into him, hands framing your jaw as he tries to get even closer to you.

You pull away, gasping for breath and looking up into Hansol's eyes. He rests his forehead against your and takes his hands away from your face to grab your hands again. 

"I'm going to marry you," He pants, and the statement causes your heart to completely wither away in happiness.

You angle his chin so that he meets your gaze as you beam up at him.

"Just don't take three years to do it."

The ceremony was simple and intimate.

Of course, you didn't want to attract too much of society's attention, but, more than that, neither of you cared to have anyone other than your closest friends and family with you on your happy occasion.

You'd cried the moment you stepped into the church you'd helped create, and you were sure that you heard Hansol weeping alongside you.

Surrounded by your cousins, Hansol's family, Elizabeth, and your closest friends from the town, the two of you promised your hearts to one another in a promise you knew you wouldn't break.

"Come on! Just quickly-" You're dragging Hansol away from the party into the ground floor of the manor. Your friends and family are sure to notice your absence immediately, but you hope that they give you the grace you leave the party this once.

"We're meant to be leaving soon! They're going to start the Honeymoon without us!"

You giggle at Hansol's ludicrous suggestion and the sincere expression on his face.

"I promise it'll be quick! I just want to show you something!"

Running into your almost empty studio, you push Hansol to turn on the corner lamp as you swing the door shut behind you.

"Okay, show me."

Grabbing his arm, you lead your husband over to your easel, one of the only pieces of furniture left in the room and cover his eyes with your hands.

"Close your eyes," You say, releasing one of your hands to swivel the canvas around so that it is facing the pair of you. "Okay, now you can look!"

You hear Hansol's breath hitch as he takes in the painting in front of him. Studying his face for all emotion, you feel a rush of pride for your work as a joyful laugh breaks across his features. Looking around at you, then back at the painting, and then back around again, Hansol's hands find your face in gleeful amazement.

"When did you do this?" 

You look back over at your painting. It was incomplete, but a clear depiction of Hansol, dressed in white bell-sleeved shirt and dark trousers as he captured the stage completely. The image of him, completely overtaken in the role, had never left your mind and you wanted to create something that captured that aura. A painting that would show him what you see when he's on stage, and why he should continue to follow his passions.

"This week, I wanted to give it to you as a wedding present." You smile up at him, stroking his hair back from his face.

"Wow, this is unbelievable. I thought you were a sculptor?!"

"I am," You giggle, "But I didn't forget how to paint when I specialised my craft."

Hansol lets out a disbelieving sigh, shaking his head in awe.

"What about this bit? Are you going to take it with us and finish it on the Honeymoon?"

"Well, I was actually hoping that I could finish it now?" You ask, batting your eyelashes in mock pleading. 

"What? Now?" His mouth drops open in shock, and you think it might be the cutest thing you've ever seen.

"It won't take long! I just need to see your face properly to finish all the details."

Before he can even agree, you are dragging him over to the chair in front of the easel. 

"Wait! Wait!" He interjects, and for a moment you think he's going to tell you that you won't have time. But then, he's removing his jacket and waistcoat. "If we're doing this I should at least match the clothing."

You are filled with glee as you move back around to your canvas, peering your head to the side to watch your husband pose his head and torso just as you had painted it.

Picking up your brush, you go to start painting until you notice his collar is tucked the wrong way. Moving back over to him as he gives you a confused look, you playfully brush the hair from his face and slip your hand into his shirt, moving the collar back out.

You forget to breathe completely as his hands come straight up to your waist, holding you in position above him. Unable to break your eyes away from his, you begin to slip your hand further into his shirt. You can feel his heartbeat pick up speed as your hand rests over his chest. 

A beat passes where neither of you move, and then Hansol is pulling you down onto his lap, his hands gripping your waist for dear life as your lips crash together. This kiss is rougher than the other ones, your mouths moving against one another as if it's the last thing you'll ever do. Your hands curl into his hair, and he groans a deep sigh that sets off a deep ache in your body.

"I can't believe you're mine..." He breaks away, looking deeply into your eyes with a sense of urgency you can only match.

"And you're mine." You grin, pressing a quick peck against his forehead.

Hansol is looking at you in a way that's making you blush, and you feel completely naked under his gaze. He knows you to your core, and that deep vulnerability is making you flustered.

Moving your hands back to his shirt, your fingers hover over the buttons, looking at him for confirmation.

"Here?" He pants, a quizzical brow raised.

"Why not?" You shrug, and you guess it's enough for him as he chuckles, nodding and pulling your hands onto the buttons. 

Slowly, you undo them one by one, taking care not to go too quickly. His breathing is getting progressively more laboured as you making your way further down his torso, revealing more and more of his skin. As you push the shift from his shoulders, you can't help but take a moment to take in the sight before you. 

It's your turn to squirm as Hansol reaches forward, slowly pushing the shoulders of your wedding gown off as he maintains eye contact with you. You shudder under the intensity of his gaze and the cold air nipping against your skin, and can't help but feel grateful when his eyes dart away to look at your exposed skin. He's looking back at you for confirmation, and as you nod, he pushes the dress further down, exposing your chest completely to him. 

A content sigh leaves his mouth as he comes face to face with your chest, a look of pure heaven on his face.

"God, you're so beautiful." He breathes and your face is flushed in embarrassment at the attention. Reaching forward, his hand ghosts over your breast as he presses small kisses against your neck. Arching your body into his gives him the courage to touch you fully, cupping your breast in his hand and testing his grip on the soft flesh. You let out a happy hum as he rolls his fingers over your nipple and you swear you hear him curse to himself.

Moving your hands to his chest, you allow yourself to sink fully into the feeling. His hands on you and yours on him, mutually exploring each other's bodies for the first time. Wet, hot kisses have you both gasping for air. Experimentally, you roll your hips down into his and his head snaps up to look at you, mouth hanging open in surprise.

"Wait, just so you know - I haven't done this before." He's blushing, and you're surprised at the information. It is fairly standard for men of the nobility to have experience before marriage, and Hansol's choice not to is rather unorthodox.

"That's okay!" Your head hangs as you look away from him, fear spiking at what you're about to tell him. "I have - once. I know I should have told you sooner, and I completely understand if you want to stop now but-"

Hansol's hands are on your face, pushing your chin up so that you're forced to look at him.

"Hey, it's okay." He reassures, rubbing small circles into your jaw. "I'm not judging you. Honestly, I'm a little jealous but also a little glad that one of us knows how this works?"

You release a relieved laugh and wonder if you could possibly love this man any more.

"Let me show you?" You ask, and you see him swallow a lump in his throat as he nods.

Gently placing his hands back onto your waist, you capture Hansol's lips back into a sweet kiss. You gently begin rolling your hips into his, taken over by a wash of pleasure that he is clearly also feeling. His hands grasp onto you, pushing your hips down into a steady rhythm.

Soon, you're grabbing his hand, and slowly leading into under the skirts of your dress. He grasps onto your thigh and you sigh happily at the contact. His roams begin to roam down and then back up your leg, traversing the new territory.

"Wait, I - I want to see you." He stops moving his hand and you can do nothing but oblige. A small whine leaves his throat as you push yourself off of his lap, but then you're pushing the rest of your dress down past your hips until you're completely exposed to him, and you're not sure if Hansol is breathing at all anymore. 

"Is that - I mean, am I-" You're interrupted as Hansol stands up, pulling you back into him. 

"Don't you dare even ask." He scolds, pushing the hair out of your face. "You're exquisite, I genuinely can't believe I'm allowed to see you like this."

Feeling your whole body warm up with the praise, you nod hoping your speechlessness is not preventing him from knowing that you feel the same.

"May I?" You ask, looking down at the rest of his clothes.

"Please," He breathes. Your lips attach to his neck and he's gasping breathily. Your hands travel down his torso, taking your time to feel as much of the smooth skin as you can. Reaching for the buttons of his trousers, you gently undo the garment, pushing them from his hips and to the floor. His drawers are next to go, and you feel yourself clenching your legs as you take him all in for the first time.

Not wanting to prolong any embarrassment the two of you may be feeling at the new indecent exposure, you push him back down onto the chair, straddling his waist. Your lips meet again as your hand works its way down to his cock. Tracing your hand along its length, you can feel Hansol shuddering beneath you. You slowly begin pumping him, ears filled with the musical sound of his moans. With your other hand, you lead his hand between your legs. Guiding his fingers to circle your clit, you moan at the feeling of his hand working against you.

His fingers slip backwards, finding their way towards your core, and Hansol slowly slips one finger inside you. Arching into him, you feel overcome by the feeling. Slowly pumping into you, you feel his eyes watching your every moment, intent on learning by trying and responding more to every moan and gasp.

Feeling yourself getting higher into the clouds, you still his hand. 

"Sorry, did I do something wrong?" He asks, confused. 

"No, not at all! I just - I want you inside me, fully." You shake your head, blushing at the vulgarity of your words.

"Oh, okay," He breathes, nodding with wide eyes.

Positioning your core over him, you gently position his cock so that it's poking at your entrance. Sinking down onto him every so slightly, loud moans from both of you fill your studio. As you get used to the feeling of him inside you, you let yourself sink further and further down, slowly taking all of him inside you. Hansol's eyes are completely screwed shut by the time you sit down onto him, and it's a sight you take time to commit to memory. You let out a shuddered breath as you pull yourself back up, and Hansol's hands clasp onto your waist, helping to keep you upright.

Your head starts spinning as you start rolling your hips against his, pushing yourself on and off of him in a way that makes you see stars. His hands are guiding your movements, pushing and pulling as you grind down onto him. A sense of urgency appears in his pitchy moans as his hands usher you to move quicker. You're mewling by the time he starts bucking his hips up into you.

"Oh shit, you feel so good" He's whispering into your ear and it's sending you into a frenzy. All you can do is moan in response, pushing yourself back against him. Your mouth is back on his to stop the obscene noises you are making, and you feel your vision blinding as he thrusts into you.

"Hansol, please-" You whimper. Your body is folding into his, only able to stay upright because of the iron grip he has on your hips. It's almost too much, but the sounds that he's groaning have you determined to keep moving, not daring to punish yourself with their loss.

You dig your nails into his shoulders, holding on for dear life as you feel your release building up. His cock twitches inside you and you clench at the feeling, leaving you both crying out in pleasure.

"I love you" His words are almost sobbed, gasped out between whining moans.

"I love you" You whisper back, jaw falling slack as your orgasm overtakes your body. Falling slump against him, jolts of pleasure leave your body twitching as you leave the world momentarily. Underneath you, you just about register his last groans as his hips halt their movements, pushed in as close to you as he can get.

Breathing heavily, you look deeply into your husband's eyes. Fond smiles break across your faces as you come down from your highs. Hands caressing your jaw, he pulls you close for a chaste kiss, before his head rolls back onto the chair in satisfied exhaustion. You giggle, resting your head against his shoulder.

"I think the driver might have left already."

[spaghettiandart]

I love your Peepaw Philip AU but I’ve got a few questions that might or might not have already been answered. (Hopefully they haven’t, I don’t like being a parrot!)

How is the Emperor’s Coven operating? Is the Boiling Isles coven system self-efficient enough without Belos manning the helm?

Is Hunter freaking out about his missing uncle and trying to find him or has he been coerced into a better health schedule by some of the coven scouts (ie Steve) and possibly Darius and Eber and Raine?

Speaking of RED (lol, my little nickname for the three rebellion coven heads), are they investigating Belos’s disappearance?

And my last question - how’s Philip’s interaction with King and Amity? Those two I haven’t seen and loved comics/art of his interacting with them yet and I’m curious how that would all go over.

Hello! Firstly I'd like to apologize for taking a while to reply, I've been a bit busy irl lol. Secondly, it's all cool! I'm always happy to answer questions, and these ones haven't been asked yet (im??pretty sure?? I dont have a good memory pfft) so it's all good haha.

A little warning, both for mention of death (just like off handedly, treated as a possible result of the emperor going splat out the window), and also I'm gonna ramble A LOT, so this will probably be... very, very long. And filled with my bad humor since I cannot control myself ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. It's been only a week, maybe less, since I came up with this au so I dont have many solid ideas in place. Everything is open to interpretation!

I've actually been thinking over how the Emperor's Coven, and by extension the coven heads and the boisling isles itself, would react to Belos' predicament. I've written out a few scenarios, roughly plotted out some scenes that would go down between characters, but nothing's really set in stone. Here's what I have so far, but I honestly encourage people to have their own interpretation of what would go down if they wished :)!

So. Belos' epic fail (real not fake) (coven scouts called) via falling out a window was obviously witnessed by some scouts down the hallway, either that or they heard a loudass noise coupled with the Emperor swearing which was totally Not Good. One of the images I'd planned to draw later but didnt get to was one where there was a coven scout (STEVE!!!), Lilith, and Hunter all staring out of the window.

Now on one hand, the coven could come to the conclusion that the Emperor is dead (because who the hell can survive a fall that high + if the emperor survived he "totally would have come back as soon as he could" = emperor is dead oh crap). Hunter would VEHEMENTLY deny this ("He can't! There's no way that could happen!" Followed by him having a rough time of it poor guy).

Either that or they come to the conclusion that this was a kidnapping attempt or soemthing of the like and Belos is missing, which is just as bad. Hunter is still suspicious about that, because /who the hell could be able to kidnap Belos/? Obviously not a human teenager. Cough.

Either way, Lilith, as the head of the emperor's coven at the time (since its early season 1, right before the convention episode too), has to deal with... a lot of things, including dealing with other coven heads, the emperor's coven, and just trying to get things in order in the chaos that came from the emperor's sudden and tragic "death". Still on the fence about if someone in particular takes over his role or if all the coven heads work together (poorly btw they're gonna fight a lot over it), as well as if the general populace is informed about him "peacefully passing away from old age" or his "sudden disappearance" or whatever.

Anyways shes working herself to the bone. Shes got eyebags for days, plus the added stress of the dude who /PROMISED/ to cure her sister of her curse just up and vanishing to who knows where, so shes. Having a rough time.

Hunter is, as I said, not doing well!! In his mind Belos has always been this sort of... untouchable figure, you know? Nobody could hurt him. Now hes missing, and since Belos is his only "family", Hunter is determined to find him, wherever he is.

So then I had this scene written down where Lilith, still wanting a cure for her sister (plus some other things she needs for the coven itself), and Hunter, wanting a clue about his uncle's whereabouts, both decide to. Uh. Break into Belos' quarters and pilfer his shit.

Does he even have quarters canonically? Its so weird thinking of this dude like... legitly sleeping. Like in a BED. Either that or he sleeps on his throne ahdhshava just imagine that. Hes sitting on his throne all day listening to people with his mask on and hes not responding because hes completely OUT behind that thing ahagdhs.

Okay side tangent over. Basically Hunter is sneaking down the hallway, all sneaky like, and he stops by the door. He reaches out to open it, but before he could it opens to reveal lilith, carrying several books that had probably been banned from the public, and they're both staring at eachother.

"I wont tell if you wont."

"Deal."

A few other notes I had detailed a scenario in which Lilith and Hunter either a) work together to carry out the Emperor's will while he's gone (or presumed deceased) or b) investigating into what occured due to their own interests, which eventually winds up with them uncovering the mountain of wtf that the Emperor had hidden. In my notes I wrote down about them potentially meeting the collector because I thought'd it be funny to draw their reactions to them. Fun!

(Also the collector has been around Belos for a while now, just kinda stuck in place. What the hell is he gonna do when the only contact they've had with another person- albeit not a GOOD one, not by a long shot- suddenly disappears???)

As for RED (THATS WHAT THAT MEANT!!! I SAW IT BEFORE IN A FEW FICS AND I WAS SO CONFUSED AHFHSGWGAH ANYWAYS-) they probably get involved later on with this whole mess. At this point of time Raine isnt a coven head- unfortanutely, but they only become one in season 2, and since its season 1 it's up to Darius and Eber instead. I do contemplate if, in this state of chaos, Raine is promoted earlier on so that theres more stability or something,,, idk. I'm still not sure ^^;

Goodness but. This kid. Hunter needs some people to make sure he doesnt wear himself down to the bone just scouring the isles. Imagine if he arrives in places to investigate like RIGHT after Phil leaves the place, both none the wiser. Gah.

Honestly though, I think if anyone would be able to coerce this kid into sleeping a full night's sleep, it'd be Steve. Hes not involved with all this conspiracy-investigatory-drama stuff like all of the other responsible adults in Hunter's life, and he has big brother energy.

Okay, onto King and Amity: I- uh, I'm still figuring things out with these two. Amity is Lilith's personal apprentice (I'm pretty sure? At this point in time at least), and the au begins before her character development really kicks off, so I dont think its until later when she gets to meet Phil and also experiences deja vu "hey your voice is super familiar?" like Eda and Lilith. Just like RED, I'm not sure what to do with Amity yet, unfortunately. I'm open to suggestions/ideas though! :)

As for King, Phil is like... you know cat trees/perches? Yeah. That's what Phil is to King. Hes like an adequate Grandpa, he has some responsible instincts, but hes kind of reserved to being King's personal perch when he wants to feel tall.

Somewhere in my notes I also wrote down the following:

"King and Phil are mysterious origins buddies

King: maybe you were also a malevolent and terrifying (though not as terrifying as me) ruler like I once was?

Phil: hm... no, I dont feel like I would have been a very good ruler"

It was for something I wanted to draw but,,, yet again, I didn't get around to doing lol.

I hope that answers your questions! If you have anything else you might like to ask, or suggestions or things you want to talk about, feel free!

Thank you for your ask!! :D

[captainmalewriter]

Black Tattoo

I've always wanted tattoos. I feel like I'd look good in them.

I already have a couple, but I want more. I want my body to become a masterpiece through my tattoos.

The only bad part is that I can't find the right ones to get. I couldn't figure out what I wanted for the longest time. I had a couple of ideas, but none of them really stuck out to me. A cross, a Spanish quote, a heart with a dagger in it; all of them felt really basic. I want something cool, something artistic, something that just looks nice.

Honestly, I was having a creative stump. Art was never really my thing to be honest. My first tattoo wasn't even my idea, it was my roommate Cal's.

Cal was kind enough to come up with an original design for me, free of charge as a token of appreciation for choosing him as a roommate. I'm so glad he just gave me the design for free. He said if I wanted more, I'd have to pay up. But between commissioning him for a tattoo design and the cost of actually getting the tattoo, I wouldn't be able to afford very many tattoos. Even if Cal's art is some of the best I've ever seen, I just don't have the money for it.

It's such a shame though. Cal is an incredible artist, but he said that he wants to go into politics and isn't interested in publishing any of his work. I've seen him spend hours upon hours just drawing away in his notebooks. I think he has at least three notebooks completed filled in with drawings, and those are just the ones I know about. Cal's pretty chill about letting other people see his art, but not always. I've noticed it's mostly his charcoal drawings that he keeps hidden. It's weird, but I've chosen to just let him be. He got real angry the one time I tried looking at his charcoal drawings. I haven't tried since then.

That is, until recently. Cal went home the other day and he said he won't be back for a month or so. He left all of his notebooks behind too. It was the perfect opportunity to steal some of his drawings for some new tattoos!

I took my time looking over his drawings. I kept my favorites in mind, though I still couldn't stop thinking about those damn charcoal drawings Cal is so protective of. I just had to get a closer look at them. I practically flipped his room upside down looking for another notebook. I rampaged through his room until I finally found a thin black notebook tucked in between the mattress and the bed frame. Clever hiding spot, but now the notebook was all mine. I didn't even need to flip through all of its pages before I found the perfect design.

A sapling tree with a Satanic skull at the top, perfect for a chest tattoo.

It's been about a week now since I got my latest ink. I made sure to put Cal's room back together exactly the way I found it. I'm sure he won't notice. He'll probably be mad about taking one of his drawings, but I'm sure he'll just get over it with time.

I was at the gym admiring my new tattoo when a burning sensation began to spread around my chest. The intense pain was unlike anything I had ever felt before. It felt like I was being burned alive! I quickly took off my shirt, and I almost couldn't believe what I saw. The ink of the new tattoo was seeping into my skin. The tattoo went from being on my chest to slightly underneath my skin, just barely visible enough to see it.

I was in excruciating pain. I grabbed at my chest, powerless to stop whatever was happening to me.

You shouldn't have done that.

I heard a voice, Cal's voice.

"Cal? Is that you? Where are you!?" I shouted.

In here idiot. Inside your mind.

The burning had stopped once the tattoo had completely sunken inside my chest. I couldn't move my body anymore. I was so stiff and heavy... I could only move my mouth.

"What are you doing to me Cal?"

I'm taking control, starting now.

My hand moved on its own, hovering right over my crotch and grabbed onto my junk with a tight grip. I winced in pain.

What's the matter Miguel? Can't handle a little pain?

My hand started rubbing my dick, and I could feel myself getting hard. I don't know how Cal was doing this. I could clearly hear his voice inside my head, and my body stopped listening to me. I became a passenger inside my own body.

"Cal! Get the fuck out-" I tried shouting, but my voice cut off midsentence.

Geez, you talk a lot. Just shut up, sit back, and let's have some fun.

I lost the last bit of control I had. Now Cal had full control over my body, all I could do was watch as it happened. My hands went up to my chest and rubbed my nipples. I pinched one of them, and I let out a moan against my will. My hands then snaked down my torso, following my treasure trail until they reached my waist. Each hand grabbed one end of my shorts and yanked it down, leaving my now erect cock to spring back up. My right hand then went to start jerking me off while my left hand kept playing with my nipples. Cal was thrusting my hips into my hand, and I kept moaning all the while. Each moan louder than the last.

Goddamn Miguel! I've never been this long or hairy before! I'm gonna enjoy every second of this!

Fuck, this is really bad! I was still in the gym's bathroom, anyone could walk in and catch Cal pleasuring himself inside my body!

What's the matter? Not having fun?

I suddenly moved into one of the bathroom stalls. Cal stripped me down until I was fully naked. He sat me down on the toilet, and I felt an unwanted smirk spread across my face. Cal was gonna do something to me, and I had no idea what.

I know what'll get you going, now let's see how flexible you are!

My hands went under my thighs and started pulling them up to me. I started bending over at the same time. Within seconds, I was now face to face with my own dick. I tried crying out for help, but it was no use. My mouth opened and my dick went right in. I was sucking myself off in the gym bathroom.

My body moaned and groaned as I kept sucking. Holy fuck... Cal knew how to suck dick! He swirled my cock head with my tongue, making sure to hit all the right spots. He deep throated me with my own throat, and I didn't even know I could bend the way I did. It felt more like I was sucking a dick than getting my dick sucked, but it just felt so good! Cal was way better than any my exes! Or am I the one that's amazing at sucking dick? I've never sucked a dick before nor have I ever wanted to. I'm straight, but the way Cal used my mouth on my dick just hit different. It was weird. I don't know, and I didn't care. All I know is I haven't been sucked off in so long, I was in pure bliss.

Something tasted salty in my mouth as I sucked myself off. Oh God, I was getting close...

Alright, that's enough.

Cal moved me out of that position and put my clothes back on. What the fuck man? I was so close to finishing too! I tried protesting against it, but I was only reminded how powerless I was with Cal inside my body now.

What? Did you really think I'd let you enjoy yourself after you stole one of my prized drawings? Not happening, I'mma keep edging you until you pass out from blue balls.

I groaned to myself. I can't believe he played me like that. When he's out of me, he's a dead man.

What was that? You wanna hit the weights today? That sounds like a wonderful idea!

Uh oh.

I marched out of the bathroom and walked straight to one of the benches near the dumbbell racks. He sat me down and took pictures with my phone.

Here's a picture of the last time you weren't in pain. Enjoy it while it lasts.

I was getting worried again. Unlike the bathroom, I don't think what Cal was gonna do to me will be so pleasurable this time. Cal, what are you gonna do to me?

Man, I can't wait to hit a new PR today! Aren't you excited Miguel!?

Cal moved my body to start adding more and more weight to the bench press. He just kept adding weight, way more than I can lift. This man is trying to kill me!

While I was being forced to add more weight, a guy walked by and distracted me. He was a walking beefcake, and his tight shorts left little to the imagination. The sight of his protruding bulge and the smell of his sweat was turning me on. I felt my dick getting hard again as I watched him go into the sauna room.

...Cal? Was that you again?

Nope.

I stood there, dumbfounded and horrified by the implications of Cal's answer. Then, for just a brief second, I regained control over my body and smirked as I began to walk towards the gym sauna. Cal only pushed me along with encouragement. I could feel him smiling inside of me.

New plan Miguel, and this time, we'll both enjoy the pain.

[iwadori]

Hiiii!!!! can you do like when you guys are supposed to meet up and they waited for about an hour or so and kept texting you you but you haven't replied so they thought you ditched them and got mad at you and stuff then they decided to go home and while on their way home not too far from their school they found you unconscious body with a large wound on you back and your head bleeding?.

can you pleaseease do tsukishima, yamaguchi, ushijima, bokuto (I'm sorry if that's a lot)

Haikyu Boys when you get hurt Pt 2 (Ushijima,Bokuto

Part One Part Two Part Three

Word count: 2.6K

Genre: angst, fluff

masterlist

Ushijima

You were having the worst week this week,  from battling a cold and your boss making you do all sorts of extra jobs (that were definitely not under your job description.) As easter was swiftly approaching you and Ushijima had your annual plans of going to the local kids community center and helping them with an easter egg hunt. But you don’t think you can manage it this year.

Ushijima gets home from practice with 4 bags just filled with easter eggs ranging from all different sizes, “woah there Toshi, you’ve got enough there too feed all of england” you laugh  

“I don’t think these eggs will be able to sustain England Y/N” he says seriously making you laugh even harder. As you were laughing, you felt another migraine come along making your cringe in pain. “Toshi, I don’t think I can do the easter egg hunt this year?”  

He sits down next to you alarmed that something is wrong, “why what happened Y/N” he asks

“I’ve been feeling terrible all week, and I even have a migraine right now” you say to him thinking he would understand.

“That’s it?” he questions thinking what you said was a joke “I think you can handle a migraine, remember we’re doing this for the kids”

His words were making you feel slightly guilty since maybe you were being over dramatic. “Y/N if it’s really ‘that bad’, i’ll make you some tea so you can feel better,” he says going into the kitchen to start on your tea. You murmur a quiet “thank you” and you end up falling asleep, hoping that by the time you wake up your head stops pounding.

As you wake up, you realise you slept all the way through the night and over to the next day as when you look at your clock it says 12:32 pm. You look at your nightstand and saw that Ushijima wrote you a note saying:  

Y/N I've left out early to set out the easter egg hunt, I’ve made you breakfast so eat up and get prepared for the event which starts at 4pm. Please don’t forget.

Sincerely – Ushijima Wakatoshi.

You chuckle at the fondness of the note, before realising your pain. Your brain felt like it was having a live concert inside that definitely was not going to end soon but you still got up prepared for the day. You didn’t want to let Ushijima or the kids down.  

When you go to the kitchen , you see the cute breakfast that Ushijima made you consisting of all of your favourite foods and with another simple note of him saying ‘ I love you. ‘ Ushijima has always been a lovely boyfriend, treating you like the queen you are always making sure that you were okay. Of course, his bluntness and his lack of social cues was something to get used to but when you did get accustomed to it, it only made you fall in love with him more.

You got ready, feeling even more sick as the piping hot shower that you usual have, did not help as when you were showering you felt heavily faint. However, you persevered since you did not want to let Ushijima down.

You finally were prepared to leave the house, with the community center being on 15 minutes walk away you were leaving out at 3:50pm since you were planning to take your car anyways. When you leave your home, you realise that you forgot your car keys so you dash up the stairs (a bit too quickly) to go and find them. Scrambling through your draws, your head is pounding harder and harder and the more it pounds the quicker your moving making you even more faint. You eventually find your keys and you’re ready to zoom to the community center but your body gave out and you pass out tumbling down the stairs landing at your front door.

Ushijima was waiting outside of the community center waiting for you to arrive it was 4:05pm and he was wondering where you were (knowing that your place was only a 10 minute drive away) he sent you a few texts asking where you were but when you don’t respond Ushijima becomes slightly annoyed, plastering a fake smile on his face and entering the community center, starting the easter egg hunt.

The easter egg hunt came to a close at 8pm and Ushijima assumed that you would’ve showed up some time in the middle of the event, but you obviously didn’t show. After making sure that all the kids left safely Ushijima decided to call and text you more and when you continuously don’t respond and your calls go to voicemail he says ‘Y/N, im really disappointed with you right now. How could you do this to me? You said you would show up, the kids were really upset, how could you be so selfish?’

He walks to your house knocking on the door, but when you don’t immediately answer he knew something must be up now, since you haven’t responded to any of his texts and calls and didn’t show up he figured there was something deeper then you just ditching the event.

He used his key to open the door, surprised when the door hit something. He tried again hitting the ‘object’ that was laying at the door again. He carefully pushes the door to make enough room for him to fit through the gap. When he entered, he was startled at the sight of you, there you lay completely knocked out with a blood stain next to your head. He knelt down next to you and touched your cheek you were extremely cold, he had to get you to a hospital stat. He called an ambulance, panicked. Worrying about how long you’ve been out for since it would have to be atleast more than 4 hours he assumed.

You woke up in a foreign room, with your head slightly stinging. You place your hand on the back of your head and wince, then you remember you need to be at the easter egg hunt so you bolt up ready to move.  

“I don’t think that’s wise for you to do that Y/N” Ushijima says to you  

“Toshi, what happened?” you ask still in pain

“It seems you fell down the stairs and hit your head” after he said that all your memories come flooding back, and you remember rushing to the community centre, looking for your keys, and then falling down the stairs and everything going black.

“I’m sorry Ushi for missing the easter egg hunt, I really tried to get there,” you say with an apologetic look on your face  

“It’s fine Y/N of course you wouldn’t of been able to get there after falling down the stairs” he says “Also, this is proof of why you shouldn’t run down the stairs”

You eventually get discharged with the doctor telling you all you need to do is rest and stay off your feet. Ushijima took the doctor's orders very seriously, becoming your loyal servant and waiting on you hand and foot, tending to your every need. He did also make you were eating healthy and taking all your medicine so you could have the best recovery possible.  

Also, after realising that this could’ve all been avoided if Ushijima didn’t guilt trip you in the first place for having a migraine, he made sure to never ignore or dismiss when you say you are ill or have anything wrong with you even if it’s a migraine, a lost limb or a simple paper cut.

Bokuto  

The Olympics were coming up and Bokuto couldn’t be any more excited than he already was. Everything he’s talked about for the past month he manages to find a way to relate to the Olympics, and as annoying as it got sometimes you were just as excited for it as much as Bokuto was.  

Bokuto was heavily busy with extra practices so you were bored and lonely, since your boyfriend was at practice all the time so you chose to take up a new hobby. You decided to paint, although you weren’t an award-winning painter you still found joy in it. Being Bokuto’s girlfriend you had some slight unwanted attention on you: the usual fans of Bokuto that just followed you to have an extra aspect of him in their life's, or his fangirls that adored him.  

You didn’t mind the fangirls for the most part since majority of them were pretty tamed and did fawn over your relationship. However, there was the minority of fans that did make it known to you that they DID NOT like you at all. When you started posting your paintings, it seems their hate for you amplified since they always found the need to leave an astray of mean comments on your post. But that didn’t mainly bother you since you thought that they only had that energy behind the screen.

The days went by getting closer to the Olympics, with Bokuto always asking you every day “Y/N you are coming to my games, right?” to which you always replied “Of course Kou, I’m coming” which always made him smile.

When the Olympics came, you’ve went to all the games cheering Bokuto and the team on as they were winning round after round. Whilst this was going on, the group of girls that were sending you horrible messages and making mean posts about you weren’t stopping. At first, you didn’t care for them but it seems their posts only gotten worse making comments about your artwork, your face, your body type ect.  

You didn’t want to tell Bokuto as you felt that it would ruin his Olympic momentum and you thought you could handle it all on your own.  

It was nearing to the final game of the Olympics, and Bokuto was ecstatic he made sure that you promised you’d be there claiming that you was his ‘good luck’ charm.’ You were excited to go too, the feeling of watching Bokuto play was exhilarating seeing him fully in his element was great for you to see.

On the last game day, Boktuo was already at the stadium since him and the team had to be there earlier to practice and you planned to meet him there just before the game started at 4:30. You went to a florist before the match getting Bokuto the biggest boquet that you could buy.  

On your way to the stadium you here somebody whistle from behind you, you turn around and see a group of girls waiting behind you smirking. “Hi?” you say more like a question then a statement “do you want something from me?”

Some of them laugh, but the one standing at the front who you mentally lable the ‘main one’ steps closer to you and says “We want you to stay away from Bokuto” you realise that these were the girls sending you hate online for these past weeks.

Before you can even blink, the girls jump you, hitting, kicking and clawing at you. You are in pain, screaming and crying for them to stop and leave you alone. You lay there, letting them beat you up thinking that you’ll probably end up dead out of this. All you can think about is Bokuto, you didn’t get to wish him good luck, or give him your flowers (that you spent a fortune on) or even tell him that you loved him one last time.

You think the girls eventually stopped but you couldn’t tell because your body was throbbing and you hurt all over. You tried to get up still wanting to go to the match but you collapse going out cold.

Bokuto was scanning the crowd over and over for you, hoping to spot you there. But he couldn’t, he was wondering where you were getting sadder and sadder by the second since he really believed you were his good luck charm and he probably wouldn’t be able to win without at least seeing your face once.

They didn’t win. Bokuto knew he wasn’t playing at his best, since all his mind was on was thinking about where you were. You’ve never missed one of his games, so he was incredibly worried. After he accepted his second-place medal, he rushed out the stadium to go to your house but he was stopped by some fangirls ‘I guess signing autographs is the least I can do’ he thinks, the fans were being a bit odd today but he didn’t have time to focus on that as his mind was racing thinking about you and your whereabouts.  

One of his fans did give him an alarmingly big boquet of roses which he appreciated ‘these must of cost a fortune’ he thinks. Although it was a probably a long shot, he decided to ask the fan if he saw someone who looked like *whatever you look like* to maybe see if someone else saw you. Which the fan replied “yeah I saw them with some guy at this restaurant whilst we were going to see you!” they exclaimed.

‘A guy’ he thought ‘that most likely wasn’t you.’ Seeing Bokuto’s confusion, the fan followed up with “I'm pretty sure it was her I mean we all know who Bokuto Koutaro’s girlfriend was.” Bokuto didn’t reply just walking away making sure to thank them for the flowers.  

He was rushing towards your house on foot (since all the taxi’s and ubers were fully booked because of the Olympics) whilst running he stumbles across your passed out body all black and bruised with scratch marks and bleeding all over you. “what happened” he whispered, knowing you obviously weren’t going to respond.  

He picked up your near-dead body, and cradled you in his arms taking you back to the stadium (since he knew that getting an ambulance to come here or running to the hospital would basically be impossible.) When he got back to the stadium, he did get odd looks from strangers but he didn’t care, his only agenda was making sure you were okay.

You woke up, and saw Bokuto pacing the room repeatedly you tried to get his attention by saying his name but your throat was damaged. He eventually notices you and runs to your side, stroking your face softly and giving you a gentle hug making sure not to hurt you.  

“Who did this Y/N?” he asks with worry in his eyes  

You ignore his question and look at the silver medal wrapped around his neck making you sad “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the match, I tried I really did try” you said with your voice sounding even worse after you said every word.  

“Don’t be silly, I’m just glad that you’re okay babe, I was really worried about you.” he said

The Medic came in and said that you had multiple broken ribs, but beside that you were fine you just needed to rest your throat and let your bruises heal. You eventually told Bokuto that it was some of his fans, he was upset that you hid this from him for so long but he was just glad that he got to you as soon as he did. He managed to play at the next Olympics and you were there fully present, with your even bigger boquet of flowers watching win gold.

Authors Note: I tried to make it as close to your request as possible, but I hope you enjoy as I really do think this is my favourite work so far.... :3 Comments and feedback appreciated.

[igneouswyvern]

adding more context to this! because i love talking!

this is pretty much where the "au" starts, with sorey killing someone as mentioned above. i imagine they were dungeon-crawling or something and they encountered a fairly strong human hellion, and as they were fighting it it suddenly lashed out and hurt one of sorey's friends. maybe threw mikleo against the wall really hard or something. and sorey just snapped. anger took over and he forewent all purification protocols and killed the hellion right there. and then as the rage subsides he finally comes back to himself and realizes with horror what he's done, the corpse of a human lying before him. and it breaks him. he's been wrestling with death for a while, with deaths he feels he should have prevented, even if realistically he couldn't have done anything. but this one is new. it's a person who could have, should have been saved, and the only reason they're dead is because of sorey's failure to maintain control of his anger. and that realization is devastating to him. this will be referred to as The Incident from now on since the hellion he killed doesn't have a name.

i think The Incident probably takes place somewhere between the dezel death arc and the mayvin lore drop in lohgrin. it's a flexible time where they could be clearing out dungeons, looking for heldalf, looking for earthen historia, etc. and the party isn't feeling that pressure to stop heldalf that they do after the mayvin arc yet. i want The Incident to occur before the big encounter with heldalf at the hunting grounds though so it can be relevant in heldalf's manipulation tactics. because by god there is juicy potential for a rich interaction there. also The Incident is the first real change from the game in this "au" except that i have sorey personally kill cardinal forton because i just like it better that way. *grins* so this isn't the first time he's actually killed someone with his own hands, but it is the first time he's done it so impulsively.

anyways all the above drawings take place in the first 24 hrs after The Incident. the first three are obviously the moment right after he does the deed. the fourth one is that night at the inn as he struggles with all of his thoughts about this and about his role as the shepherd in general. the last one is the next morning at the inn after his first night of very poor sleep of many to come. it's also when he first starts deflecting and bottling things up and refusing to talk to his companions about any of it although he's doing a very poor job of hiding his fragile mental state at this point. note that the nightmares haven't started yet (because he literally didn't sleep at all) but they start the next night. in the beginning the nightmares are just reliving this kill and the cardinal kill but after maybe a week they start to incorporate that wretched feeling of thrill that convinces him he's a monster deep down inside.

fun fact all of the speech bubbles in the fourth image came from something someone said to him in my au. i summarized them all in the image below

from this point the au continues mostly following the game, just with a whole lot of extra angst thrown in. sorey impulsively kills at least one more person of course and he definitely blames himself for maltran and mayvin's deaths. probably right before they would go to face off against heldalf in the game plot is when the whole thing mounts to a breaking point. at which point...i don't know what happens! and that's because this au has like. 5 different branching paths.

you've got the one where sorey finally tells his friends the full truth about everything and gets help and support and works through his issues and is able to successfully complete his mission as shepherd without producing too much malevolence (booooring). you've got the one where he becomes completely corrupted, becomes the lord of calamity, and the party has to kill him (deliciously angsty. it should be rose who kills him but i want it to be mikleo. for homoerotic tension reasons). you've got the one where he becomes corrupted and the party finds a way to purify him and now he has to live with the consequences (even more deliciously angsty). you've got the one where he corrupts the party along with him (super tasty as a concept. kinda boring as a storyline). you can even throw in one where he joins heldalf but im not sure what that would look like realistically. why would he do that.

ok. that's the rundown of the au. we have a lot more to get to though including party interactions and more scenes. which i will hopefully save for more drawings. that is all. if you read this congratulations you get 3 pieces of candy and my eternal love

me after i let my anger get the best of me and accidentally kill someone who could have been purified and the resulting gut-wrenching guilt consumes my every waking moment and my terror that it might happen again is so severe that it manifests as horrible nightmares that plague me every night and the worst part about them is that i actually enjoy killing my victims in the nightmares which is a thought more horrifying than any foe i might face and that's why i can never tell any of my friends about what im going through because if they knew the full truth they would surely think me a monster and, honestly, i couldn't blame them and so all i can do is suffer in silence and wait for the guilt and shame as well as what are sure to soon become full-fledged psychopathic tendencies begin producing malevolence in me until i am completely consumed by it and wind up destroying everyone i love and leading the world to certain catastrophe. but it's okay haha im totally fine you don't need to worry about me

[jengarie]

#showyourprocess !

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES — When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag up to 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!

Thank you, @rinielle for tagging me! She chose the piece above (original post), and oh boy this one was a whole ass rollercoaster ride! Unfortunately, I hadn't turned on the timelapse feature for this but I'll try to go through each part of the process as best as I can!

The photos I'm gonna upload are gonna be a mix of screenshots and literal photos of my screen, because I'm taking some of them from my updates to friends, since a lot of the steps got lost in my painting process.

But before that, let me tag some other amazing creators!

@dragonji: this gif art!

@candicewright: this yibo painting!

@wendashanren: this gifset!

@mylastbraincql: this gif!

I haven't been able to keep track of who's been tagged so apologies if you've already done this! Also, no pressure to do it at all if you would rather not! <3

Planning

Sometimes, I get an idea first and find reference photos to go with that idea. But for this one, I sought out a reference photo first, and built an idea on top of it!

After that, I roughly sketch out the base pose. Usually, this looks very messy, but it doesn't really matter as long as I understand which part goes where!

The idea for the background didn't really come until the creation process because I don't think I really planned this to be a full piece.

Creation

Sketching

Honestly, from this point on, it's more of trial and error.

So, I redid the the initial base pose—made it cleaner and a little bit more detailed. See: the added definition in their arm muscles, the rearrangement of Wei Wuxian's legs, and Lan Wangji's hand on Wei Wuxian's back. If you look at the second photo, I also changed the pose a bit midway—I tend to edit as I go sometimes when I change my mind. (For this, I thought, given the Lan arm strength, it would be better to make Lan Wangji look more at ease carrying Wei Wuxian. This gets covered by the robes anyway though, so it didn't matter much in the end.)

I also started adding details to the base! I usually start with the face and then the hair! I usually go for the clothes next, but I dreaded the robes in this piece so I guess that's why I ended up with a basic idea of what I wanted for the background instead LOL I also figured out how I want the final crop to look like, so I blocked out all the other areas with an extra layer!

Okay, onto the part that killed me like ten times: the robes. There are a lot of interactions between their robes here given their pose, and not to mention they also have layers upon layers on each of them! So, to maintain my sanity and to keep track of which part is which, I color coded them into the most colorful sketch I've ever made.

Another reason why I filled in each layer of robe with a solid block of color, is so that all the lines underneath gets covered. Without all of the colors, the actual outline actually looks like the one on the right. What a nightmare!

I also ignored the crop again for this part, because it's always better to draw past your borders, in case you decide to rotate or tilt or whatever your piece later on. I didn't do the feet anymore though, because that I was sure wouldn't show in the final piece anymore.

After that, I did the sketch one more time and then started adding the base colors. (I didn't have a screenshot of just the base colors, and the final CSP file is a nightmare so I copy pasted the layers into a new canvas to show you guys :') )

By the way, I drew their robes flowing this way, because I wanted it to frame the lower arch of the moon behind them for the composition. It was a little frustrating that I couldn't get Lan Wangji's robes a little higher because of Wei Wuxian's legs but I later filled in the empty space with his forehead ribbon anyway, so it all worked out in the end!

Painting

Because apparently, I was a masochist back then, I merged the base colors all into one layer and started adding shadows to the robes. (These days, I add shadows first and then, merge. It's much easier this way.)

And then, I started painting! Again, I did the face first and then the hair, before finally the robes. This was my first time painting side profiles and honestly it was quite a pain to figure out LOL but !!! I think I did a good job and I'm proud of how it turned out. I again used reference photos for this one but I can't link any because they were just several random Pinterest photos that I didn't save.

Another thing to note is that I use the mesh transform tool a lot, especially on faces. That's largely why Lan Wangji's face looks so different in the latter two!

And then I went with the robes. Somewhere along the way, I realized I didn't like how I planned to do Lan Wangji's sleeves and the flowy part of Wei Wuxian's robes and I... decided, with much dread, to do them over. So I sketched on top of the painted layers and redid the robes, again.

It was at this point that I decided to take a break from this piece because it was honestly very draining! I think it took about three weeks before I decided to open the file again and continue it.

When I did, I just finished painting the rest of the robes and their hands. The blue details on Lan Wangji's outer robes were painted on a separate layer that I put on Multiply. I probably did more adjustments to the face and hair and stuff, because my painting process is honestly a mess :')

Final Adjustments

I added some correction layers on certain areas to fix some of the colors. See: Lan Wangji's sleeve becoming much brighter and paler; Wei Wuxian's legs having less contrast. And then I merged all of the layers (excluding the background) and added a bit of blur. See: Wei Wuxian's ponytail; the entire lower part; the flowing forehead ribbon. My reasoning for this is so that most of the detail (and therefore the flow of the eye) goes to their faces and expressions!

And then, I put a blue Overlay layer on low opacity to make Wangxian blend better with the background, added a bit of shadow on the inside and the lower sections and added the glowing details for the added flair. I initially wanted sparkles and/or stars but they didn't turn out as well as this did. I also upped the contrast by a little for the entire piece!

Aaaand, that's it! In truth, I did a bit more color adjustments to the whole piece, but I was a dummy who forgot to turn them back on before posting so ... oh well.

Posting

Before posting, I upload it either on my spare private Twitter account or on a drafted Tumblr post so I can check the colors on my phone. This is because the colors on different devices can look very different, and I would at the very least want all my pieces to look nice on both of my devices!

And then, once I deem it satisfactory, I just try to think of a caption and post! Some artists wait for a certain time where most of their followers are active, but I didn't have a lot of MDZS followers at this point so it didn't really matter to me.

It still doesn't really; I haven't actually been able to figure out when my MDZS followers are awake even now.

[sillydg]

Sunday Six 11.28.21

Hi everyone!

I'm working on different things right now. Just a bit of an impression, expecting to put out Mission Grumpy and Shatterd next week. I'm also participating in Choices 12 days of fictmas. My date is 7 December.

Summaries and snippets under the line. (Way to long ;)) Mostly Drake stuff, But also an OH Trr Cross over!

Let me know what you think!!

Mission Grumpy pt.2: The tale of the Courtly lady (Drake X MC) Drake arrives at his former sanctuary pub, due to Riley's tactics... But does she manage to get him actually inside for his (not so much anymore) surprise B-day party? Pt. 1

A broad smile appears on her face and he groans, knowing very well that this is her story tell face. She clears her throat, “Hear yea, Hear yea! Let me tell you the tale of the Courtly Lady!”

“Are you freaking kidding me, Herreld?” And throws his hands up in disbelief, “Are you seriously going to tell me a story right now?”

“Yes, and that’s why I brought these,” she holds up the tray with shots while wiggling her shoulders, “You can get one if you want…”

And hell. He wants it bad. But it also meant that he was going to be at less than two arm lengths away from her and since they’ve been like annoying magnets the past months that was way too close, not even thinking of the fact that her perfume is probably going to draw him in like one of those cartoon figures when they smell fresh apple pie. For God’s sake. This woman is a walking deathtrap.

Shattered pt. 2: When spring sets in (Ethan X MC) PT. 1

Cross-over with trr. Ethan struggles with his feelings after finding out that Liz had a rendez vous with her ex. And Drake and Liz struggle with their broken hearts.

Ethan:

For fuck sake. He remembered how he looked at her, as the moonlight stroked her beautiful face, thinking, how the hell could anyone ever run away from her, this asshole must have been out of his goddamn mind.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, how naive he was, not knowing that she would be the one to touch his heart.

He knew he had to run, the moment he realized that he loved her. Never he dared to speak those words out loud, because the first time he thought of it, about loving her, was already enough to realize that he needed to take his distance. So he ran, without hesitation. For her protection, and her protection only.

She was going to get over him, and he was going to carry the burden since he knew that he would not be able to stop caring about her, love her.

With Drake:

"This grumpy asshole needs to sit up, Liz"

"No, the hell you are! For God's sake Drake, lie the fuck down!"

He grins and winces at the same time as she helps him lay down again, “God, I missed your dirty talking."

She rolls her eyes to hide a small smile, while ruffling up his pillow and tucking him in, “Well at least someone is feeling better. Now tell me, are you completely comfortable?"

"Absolutely, it’s good to know that you haven't lost that gentle touch Li…," but before he can finish his sentence she punches him in the good shoulder, “Good.”

He exaggeratedly groans while rubbing his shoulder; "God, I miss the days where the hero gets rewarded with wet kisses instead of punches."

What if: Ep. 10 Just too show that they do arrive at the bar this time :) Masterlist

Maxwell slams the door open of the “Wiggling Tail.” It’s a quiet night like any other in the pub the wiggling tail. The endless list of classic rock is playing, the furniture crappy and Jack is editing photo’s on his laptop behind the bar, serving the three regulars sitting at the bar.

“Jack! My kind sir! Four burgers and a bottle of Glen, stat!”

Jack doesn’t even look up from editing photos on his laptop, “Ahh Maxwell, always a delight to have you screaming all the way through my bar!”

Drake groans while following Maxwell inside, “Sorry Jack, I keep repeating the ground rules, but they just won’t stick,” and he smacks him against the head.

“Auch,” and Maxwell rubs the back of his head, “Jeez Drake, no wonder you’ve got no girlfriend if you treat your dates like this. I bet Liam never smacks his dates!”

Drake grins, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that… but I bet Liam’s dates never enter a bar screaming, to begin with.”

No title yet, Choices 12 days of fictmas; What happens if faith determines that Riley never participates in the social season, due to never being in the bar at that particular night, but eventually gets drawn to Cordonia anyway?

And is there a chance for a Christmas miracle to happen when for ever Bachelor Drake watches Bertie for the week and meets Berties teacher?.. One miss Riley Herreld? (Fluffy (Mini?) Christmas Series)

“Good and now we’ve established everything,” Savannah lets out a deep breath and falls exhausted back into her seat. “God, our Walkers are not made for talking. I’m exhausted. I think I’ve talked more than I did all year.”

Drake grins, “Walkers are not made for listening either. But when it comes to family…”

Savannah smiles softly, “I can only thank you for taking this so seriously. I know that he is here all the time and that the two of you are going to be fine. But it’s just…” And she falls silent while tapping her fingers nervously onto the table.

He takes her hand in his to stop her from tapping, “It’s not weird to be nervous Sis. He’s your whole world, and given the fact that the two of you have never been apart more than one night… Hell, you never even missed a goodnight kiss, because when he does stay over for the night, he’s right next door!”

Savannah sniffles, and with a small teasing smile she says, “Thanks for the reminder, Walker!” And she wipes away a few tears, “For fucks sake, are you happy now? I’m crying. And since we’re listing things we Walkers are not good at, crying and emotions are numero uno!”

“Were one sucky family aren’t, we?” Drake grins, “How about I pour us something us Walkers love?”

“God I thought you never ask. And since Bertrand is right next door watching Bertie, I’m saying, Yes, please! Why don’t you bring over the bottle!”

@choicesficwriterscreations

[professorsnape394]

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Nine: Letters, Lovers and Loyalties

A/N: This is the ninth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 2185

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

Yet another letter dropped into the lap of Aria Dumbledore as she sat absentmindedly sketching. Dropping her quill back into the small pot of ink which balanced on the arm of her chair, a small sigh escaped her lips. She had been expecting another to arrive any day now.

Aria allowed herself a small glance in the direction of her desk where the ever growing pile of unopened letter sat gathering dust. Disregarding her drawing, Aria traveled to her desk, fingers fumbling with the edge of the envelope. Admittedly, Aria's mind had been focused on that small pile of letters the past few days, and consequently the man who sent them. She couldn't bring herself to reply to his constant inquiries, but she had considered there was no harm in opening a few of them. She longed to hear from him, though she had been in denial for so long now she wasn't sure what to expect from his most recent letters.

Waiting no longer she ripped the paper from its wax seal, her eyes quickly scanning every word on the page.

My dear Aria, Though I know you say you cannot reply to my letters, I write them all with the hope that you will find the time in your busy schedule to at least read them. As always things are quiet here without you. Too quiet. I miss your voice. I miss hearing you sing to yourself in the shower thinking no one can hear you, I miss hearing you hum as you wander aimlessly through the house, I miss watching you draw as I pose for you, but most importantly I miss holding you in my arms. I long for the end of the school year when we will be reunited and I will have nothing to miss except maybe writing these letters. I long for a response to my letters, my darling. I simply must know that you miss me as I miss you. In the mean time I will continue to write to you to keep myself distracted from everything terrible happening in the world, by simply thinking of you. All my love, S.

Aria couldn't help but feel a great pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach for ignoring the letters, but she couldn't bare the thought of reading them, while she was still coming to terms with how she felt when she decided to leave for Hogwarts. She knew immediately she would not be able to maintain a long distance relationship with him. Though he was the first man she had ever loved she had been too cowardly to confess her feelings for him in person, let alone on a piece of parchment. She knew she was a pathetic coward from the moment he told her he loved her and she could not find it in her to return the favour. Her cowardice was more than proven the day she left for Hogwarts. Aria had planned to break up with him, to avoid further heartbreak down the line. But she could not even find the courage to do that.

Instead she was living in denial. In her mind they had broken up, and refused to face up to whatever she was truly feeling until it was absolutely necessary. Her plan had been to distract herself as much as possible, suppress her feelings and just forget about the situation completely. And to be totally honest her plan had been working for her, with the exception of a few off days such as today. However when it came time to wake up and face the music she had no idea what her plan would be then.

Leaving the letter open on her desk she took a stroll around the grounds of Hogwarts to clear her mind. The time to figure out all of her problems was not now. She was still a young, carefree woman and she didn't want the burden of guilt stopping her from living her life however she so wished.

Arias walk led her to the village of Hogsmeade, and after working up a light sweat, the young professor opted to pop into the Three Broomsticks to quench her thirst.

Unsurprisingly for a late Tuesday evening the place was barren. Besides for a drunken wizard practically falling off his bar stood, a crazy witch whispering to herself and two well dressed men, sitting out of place in a side booth, the place was completely deserted. Planning to only stay for a pumpkin juice Aria took a seat at the bar and begun chatting to the same barmaid who had served her and Severus all those weeks ago.

"Busy night?" Aria joked, rolling her eyes at the drunk to her right.

The woman laughed in return, handing over a glass of pumpkin juice. "This is pretty much the standard, at this time." She shrugged, polishing off a perfectly clean glass, to keep herself busy. "That one over there doesn't even order anything, but its not worth the hassle kicking her out." She gestured to the old hag in the corner, her perfectly polished nails glistening in the dim bar light.

"I wish I could say I felt sorry for you, but a break away from the chaos that is Hogwarts is a slight relief." Aria sighed. She was still not used to being around so many people all the time having spent the past few years alone, besides her mother, she often needed time alone to breathe.

"Oh, then you must be new. I've had my fair share of lonely professors spend an evening behind my bar, and I usually remember who's spilled their whole life story to me. Though you do look familiar, what do you teach?" She finished up with her glasses, leaning her elbows on the bar to get a closer look at the younger woman, her breasts practically falling out her blouse.

"I'm just an apprentice for now. I'm the new Potions Mistress." Aria smiled, taking a small sip of her drink.

"Oh yes, now I remember. You came here with that Severus. He's not unfamiliar with our whiskey selection, if you know what I mean." Both women rolled their eyes in unison. "He doesn't seem to talk much though, I can't say I know anything about him. I must admit I was surprised to see him with a gorgeous young witch like yourself."

"You weren't the only one." Aria scoffed, finishing off her pumpkin juice.

"Well it makes a little bit more sense now." She laughed, a set of pristine pearly teeth emerging from her red glossy lips.

It seemed Aria was not the only one who had been admiring the woman's beauty, and almost right on cue the drunk decided to look a little bit more lively, demanding another pint. Reluctantly the barmaid obliged, shooting Aria an apologetic look.

Aria couldn't help but notice the gruff looking man practically throw himself over the bar in order to get a good gawk at the barmaids behind. The slightly older woman seemed unfazed by the mans actions, in-fact Aria wasn't entirely unsure she wasn't enjoying the attention. Choosing not to interrupt as neither party seemed to object to the altercation, Aria kept her mouth shut.

That was until the man's attention turned to her. The barmaid disappeared from view, presumably to refill the barrel the drunk had practically drowned himself in. "Haven't seen you around here before." He started harmlessly, though Aria did not miss the way his eyes seemed to scan the whole of her body.

"Just moved into Hogwarts, haven't seen much of Hogsmeade." Aria admitted, but made the conscious decision to turn away from him, hoping not to engage in any further conversation.

"You a friend of Ros'" He asked, intrigued, while downing a good half of his pint.

"Not really, no." Aria shrugged. "I didn't even know her name until just now."

"Rosalind Rookwood." He edged his seat closer to Arias. "Fantastic barmaid, though I wouldn't say it was her best profession." He winked.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Aria turned her nose up at the man, just praying he would leave her alone.

"Well, you know, bein' a barmaids fine an all, but it doesn't always pay the bills. Miss Rookwood's got her fair share of stories to tell, and not all of them her own." He laughed, the potent stench of his alcoholic breath suffocating Aria as he leaned in closer, wrapping a heavy arm around her shoulders. "If it turns out teaching isn't for you, just know you'll have a loyal customer in me." He hiccuped, his free arm, reaching down to stroke the woman's exposed thigh.

Instinctively Aria gripped onto his wrist, forcing it off of her. "What the hell do you think you are doing!?" Aria exclaimed, pushing the man away from her. "Don't you dare lay your hands on me again."

The drunk showed no sign of guilt or remorse, he simply chuckled to himself, revealing a shocking lack of teeth. Disgusted, Aria made to move but found herself cornered against the bar.

Fortunately the altercation had caused enough disruption to alert the two men having a casual evening drink. Instantly one rushed over to her aid, stupefying the old man. The second man followed suit and made it his business to remove the frozen figure from the bar.

"Are you alright?" The first man asked, his brow furrowing with worry.

"I'm fine, thank you for stepping in." Aria smiled, brushing herself down, as though she was riding herself from the drunks disgusting touch.

The man returned a boyish grin, his eyes bright blue and full of kindness. Aria had never seen anyone like him. His presence was almost cartoon like, with positivity radiating from him. Aria couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, her smile growing just by looking at him. His energy was contagious.

"Is... is there anything I can do to thank you?" She tried your shake herself back to reality though remained entranced by him.

"Nothing at all. I'm just glad I was here to help." He extended a hand, almost nervously, introducing himself. "Alexander Turner, pleasure to meet you."

"You too." Aria blushed, unable to break eye contact with the man, and was now incredibly aware of how dumbfounded she must look. "I'm Aria" She stuttered, the sound of his friend retuning sending her back to reality. "I apologise for staring, but I just can't seem to take my eyes off you, you have an enchanting aura about you. I'm sorry if I may seem a little strange."

"There's no need to apologise, I get it all the time." He laughed, though not arrogantly, it was sweet and innocent. "My mother's a Veela." He added, almost embarrassedly, upon noticing the slightly look of confusion appearing on Arias face.

The couple shared an awkward smile, both at a loss for words.

Alexander's friend passed by the pair silently, slapping him encouragingly on the shoulder before disappearing behind the bar, Rosalind following closely behind.

Aria noted the difference in both attitude and appearance in the two men, finally able to distinguish between the two. The friend was tall and broad shouldered, his hair messy though not long. He gave off a sort of American football, "bro", fratbroy vibe. In other words kind of arrogant and full of himself. Clearly he saw himself as the one in control. Alexander on the other hand was more slim, but not skinny. Tall but not lanky. Innocent but not naive. His clothes appeared similar to his friends but presented more neatly and well put together. She assumed he felt sorry for his friend, knowing his Veela parentage would gain him lots of female attention, and in return Alexander simply allowed himself to get pushed around to boost his friends ego.

With a roll of his eyes Alexander practically confirmed her theory and Aria couldn't stop herself from laughing once more.

Knowing that while Rosalind and 'Braydon'; as he turned out to be, would not be returning any time soon, Aria and Alexander chose to occupy one of the booths and get to know a little bit about each other, where Alex truly confirmed all of Aria's suspicions.

Upon Braydon's return, he flashed his rather large biceps, kissing each one in turn as he flexed them, before letting out a hearty growl, presumably this was a display of male dominance among his kind. His kind being; douchebags.

With another roll of her eyes Aria bid farewell to the men, thanking Alexander once more for his heroic rescue.

"How about a date?" Alex called nervously as Aria had just about reached the door.

"I'm sorry?" She replies, caught off guard.

"A date, here, with me. What do you say?" Aria shook her head unable to look away from that damn charming smile of his.

"I'll agree to a few drinks." She clarified. "Just send me an owl, you know where I'll be." And with that she disappeared once more down the path to Hogwarts, the grey sky above all the while threatening to rain down on her.

Taglist: @ayamenimthiriel @lizlil​