#but i just wanted to illustrate how long she’s known him now

[princessanneftw]

1987/2024 - Tim Laurence giving Zara Phillips a piggyback at the beach near Sandringham. 37 years later, Sir Tim Laurence hugging his stepdaughter Zara Tindall after she completed the cross country course at the Badminton Horse Trials.

[paraphwrites]

followup on my post about dbda & loneliness.

'dead boy detectives' is a show where fundamentally, every character is very very lonely. but, they make each other less lonely. jenny is a surrogate parent for crystal, edwin and niko are always there for each other, crystal and charles understand each other, charles and edwin complete each other. there's just something so beautiful that even though they are all in pain and lonely, they are not alone, they have friends who would literally die for them.

i realized i was queer pretty young and in a very non-accepting environment. i was the only queer person i knew for a really long time, and that was really hard for me. and there was something devastatingly beautiful about watching edwin go through the a similar journey and not be alone.

dbda is important for a million reasons. but i would like to focus on one reason in particular.

'dead boy detectives' illustrates that there are multiple different ways to realize one's queer identity. you have simon, who is so wrapped up in self-hatred that he tears other people down with him. you have edwin, who is utterly unwilling to express any desire in such a way but ultimately embraces it. you have monty, who seems to have always known he was queer and always been very okay with that. you have charles, (i include him because i believe he is, but that can be debated) who goes on a long journey to realize it due to his circumstances. and they are all valid, and they are all real, and some of them hurt other people. because when the world hurts you so fundamentally, sometimes you end up hurting other people too. and you have people who have never had an issue with being queer, and that's great. and you have people who have to come to terms with it and it is hard and it is beautiful but they don't have to do it alone.

and that MATTERS. so often in media, we have a narrow, limited perspective for what realizing one's queer identity means. but there are so, so many different ways to figure yourself out, and dbda shows that in a very tangible and real way

the stories you tell are the stories we hear. so if @netflix only wants to tell stories about straight white people (maybe featuring a token gay character, so they can put it under the lgbt section), then that is the stories that people will hear

chimamanda ngozi adichie gave an incredible ted talk, back in 2009, called 'the danger of a single story.' in it, she discusses how, when you only tell & hear a singular story about a certain group of people, that becomes how you perceive the entire populace.

when a coming out journey is limited to its popular depiction (*realizes* *is kinda sad* *gets a bf*) then that is what all queer people are reduced to

look, i get that netflix has a couple of great shows featuring multiple queer characters, and i've watched & loved most of them. but god if i am not tired of people telling me to watch heartstopper. (i did & it's great & that's not the point.) the point IS that there should not be Two Gay Shows on your platform. because then the entirety of queer people are reduced to that.

now, maybe if it was just dbda, i wouldn't be so up in arms.

BUT THE FUCKING PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY ADAPTATION?????????????????????????????????

you CANNOT reduce queer people to shows that aren't worth renewing. you CANNOT erase queer characters from classic lit just because you want it to be more mainstream. when you do that, you are reducing queer identities to the single story you are willing to tell.

(to be clear i'm not blaming all of homophobia on netflix. i am simply pointing out a way in which they are contributing)

[darkshrimpemotions]

People miss the point about Dean's interaction with Marta the post office lady in 14x13 so hard and it's FRUSTRATING.

No, it's not a reversal of the running gag about older women finding Sam attractive (which is gross anyway because it usually involves playing his obvious discomfort at being touched without consent for laughs). It is also not just Dean trading on his looks and flirting to get what he wants.

The point is to illustrate a significant difference between the brothers!

Specifically how they interact with the community of Lebanon, and what that says about their characters.

At this point in the show, Sam and Dean have now lived in Lebanon for like, six and a half years. And yet Sam approaches this woman like he would approach any stranger or witness in any random town in the country. And she reacts to him like any witness would to a strange man asking questions--with caution and some level of suspicion. It is incredibly clear that they don't know each other at all, despite how long they've been living in the same community.

But Dean knows her! And not just by sight and in passing. He's on a first name basis with her! He asks about her grandson and she readily answers! She knows his first name, too! They very clearly have an established report and have talked many times, enough times for her to have complained to him about her "spoiled little jerk" of a grandson!

This scene establishes that Dean is a known entity to at least some of the people of Lebanon. A known and LIKED entity. Trusted, even! He has truly put down roots there in a way that Sam has not, despite them living there for the same amount of time. He's bonded with people he sees regularly. He has little interactions with them offscreen all the time. That tells us something about Dean as a character!

And if it's a reversal or play off of anything, it's 1x11 (Scarecrow) when Dean fails to convince a couple who is in danger to let him fix their car so they can leave town sooner. Dean assumes (incorrectly IMO) that it's because HE specifically comes off to "normal people" as abnormal and dangerous, whereas Sam would be able to convince them with just a sincere look. In reality, of course, it probably has more to do with Dean being a total stranger, with no obvious credentials for car-fixing other than his word, in an unfamiliar place, than it does any inherent quality of Dean himself.

Because the key is, Dean isn't putting in any special effort in either scene. The way he approaches the couple is a contrast to how he usually handles cases. There's no costume, no subterfuge, and no alias. He isn't trying to fool either the couple in 1x11 or Marta in 14x13 into liking and trusting him. He's just being himself and telling the truth in both scenes (maybe not ALL the truth, but the essential basics). It works on Marta because she already knows and likes him. It doesn't work on the couple because he's a stranger to them.

So in 14x13 (and at other times in the show too) we see that Sam is not any better with people than Dean, especially when he makes no effort. He in fact gives off somewhat alarming vibes to strangers when he doesn't present with some kind of subterfuge that engenders immediate trust (i.e. being an FBI or insurance agent). (Think of Amelia's initial reaction to him in season 8 for example.) And this is true even for people who have almost certainly seen him around before, in the town he's lived in for over half a decade.

And the fact that he has made no effort to get to know his neighbors is telling in itself. Sam isn't any more automatically trustworthy to regular people than Dean unless he puts in specific effort to be. Costumes and aliases, fake credentials, even that specific face and voice he uses to talk to witnesses are all effort he has to put in. And that effort is not something that comes naturally to him or occurs to him outside of the context of a case. (I think we also see in season 6 exactly how much conscious effort those things require of him, given that without a soul he not only lacks personability but is downright impatient with and insulting to people.)

It's actually Dean who's good at building bonds, establishing casual report, and eliciting trust from people. And moreover, it's Dean who thinks to make the effort to do so. Sam is better at leading hunters specifically, but that's a whole different story and meta.

[byeolbeloved]

Letters to Cupid -Kang Yeosang

Pairings> soldier!yeosang x typist!reader

Genre> childhood friends to strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, use of flashbacks, slightly suggestive, setting takes place around 18th century

Summary> for centuries, women named cupids worked as typists to write letters on behalf of senders who couldn't write themselves. You were always the writer but never the receiver for a love letter, yearning to be picked up by a knight. What you didn't expect was for this knight to have a familiar set of eyes, only this time lost from the innocence they once had.

Words from pupa : This fic is inspired by the anime Violet Evergarden! Also note that the writings in small italics are meant to be flashbacks. I had so much fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it <3 The picture is also fanart I made myself hehe so I hope you like that too ^^

The typewriter clicked away, following a warm melody of the woman reminiscing her adventures with the other piece of her that is now battling the screams and horror of man. The warm scenery of her words contrasted the thunderous roars outside. The weather had no mercy on lovers under the moonlight.

"Please tell him I love him and I'll always be waiting for him" the woman said glass eyed. 

She's a gorgeous woman, with light make up and well done hair, although judging from the purple under her eyes you can tell she's had restless nights, tearful even, by her pink nose that was already prominent as she walked through the door. 

You always thought about how hard it must be to have your lover be in the military. You've seen many cases of these couples working as a typist. You had at least 10 letters a day of women writing to their husbands on how badly they miss them, some not knowing their ashes have become part of the land they fight to protect. 

"He will appreciate this letter dearly, Elenor. I will make sure to send it out by Friday" you say with a smile embossing a wax seal on the letter.

"Oh thank you Cupid. I was never good at using the typewriter so when an old friend told me about you I practically came here as fast as I could. It's been a month since he's been away, we've never been separated for this long.." 

"It must be so hard for you both. He'll be just fine El... I see the love in your eyes, he'll come back to them"

Education was a privilege, hence the reason why so many people were illiterate. For centuries women named "Cupids" wrote letters on behalf of senders who weren't able to write to their loved ones themselves or simply didn't know how to express their emotions on paper. It started from a voluntary organisation but has now turned into a whole company, well known throughout the land. 

You were born into the world of literature. Your father was a writer and your mother was a book illustrator. Work being the opening chapter for their own love story. From the moment you were born, books heavily dominated your life. Literally. Because even from the scene of your birth, where your mother delivered you unexpectedly at the house you grew up in, you were wrapped in ripped pages from books- that being the first thing they could grab instead of a blanket at such a chaotic scene of panic. 

You grew up with your mother reading you books and you accompanied your father while he wrote. Although you loved literature, writing your own book wasn't something you saw yourself doing. You much preferred experiencing a realistic event rather than coming up with a story, which is why you fell in love with this job.

You get to write true emotion while hearing another person's story and relationships. And you were clearly good at portraying what people wanted to express as you had tons of people personally asking for you to write for them.

Love; a topic you could rant on and on about. You dreamt about being picked up by a knight, running away from reality just to intertwine in each other's soul.  

However, you weren't such a hopeless romantic as you were very selective with the guys you talked to, let alone dated. No one has ever made you feel like a princess getting saved by the prince. Maybe reality isn't like the books, however, you felt that there must be someone in this lifetime who could make you feel like that.

The night was dark. Dark as the swelling wave of the ocean before the rising winds, when it bends its head near the coast. Rain fell hard against the concrete floor and the wind was so sharp it could cut you. 

The girl shut her eyes, trying to count sheep to calm her heartbeat but the sound of the rain only pictured her sheep drowning in the night alongside her.

"The rain won't get us here" spoke the boy, flashing her a smile that emphasized the pink red mark by his left eye. The red mark he told her was from a kiss from cupid after she pointed out how it looked like a heart. They were under the awning of a closed store.

"The rain is scary Yeosang" she frowned.

"It's only water" he held his hand out to the rain and let it get wet "see? I'm fine" 

"I know but I don't like the noises" 

"Then don't listen to the noises. You can just listen to me" he wiped his wet hand on the side of his pants and grabbed onto hers.

"I will protect you from the rain. I promise I will always hold your hand when it rains Y/N"

“Sorry I’m late, I just finished up with my last client for the day. Did I miss anything?” you place down your coat on the chair back.

“Only Jia swooning over mailman Tony again” Sakura chuckled while sipping her coffee.

“Seriously, when are you going to make a move? He might be single” Maya continued mouthful with a sandwich.

“Oh shush there shall be no romance at work. We have a business relationship and that’s how it’s going to stay. Now let’s get started with the meeting so we can head home before the weather gets worse.” Jia snaps and everyone hides their smiles at her shyness.

“Okay, this meeting is to just remind everyone about plans for next week. We will be accompanying commander Chan- everyone remembers him right? From last year. We will be writing letters for his unit, he has a different unit now. Make sure to pack warm clothes sinc-”

“Since there will be lower temperature in the North” Sakura and Maya said together in a monotone voice. “We’ve done this before Jia we knowww~” Sakura whines.

“Just relax and look out for the hot single soldiers” Maya giggles to Sakura who is now poking at Jia’s side.

“Business! This is business guys! We're going there for work. Plus, these hot guys are depending on us to bring back their messages to their families. No fooling around” Jia makes clear.

Once a year your team will visit military camps to write for soldiers. You’re usually there for 3 days excluding travel. Apart from some of the men being touch starved and looking as if they’ve never seen a woman in their life- most of them are really nice. Last time they even set out a mini farewell and thank you party before your departure.

The crisp sound of snow beneath your feet and cold sensation on your nose definitely woke you up from your nap on the way here. It actually felt quite nice, your surroundings bright from the white snow despite the sun not yet risen and the cold air felt like a splash of water to your face in the early morning. All nice except for the sound of Sakura and Maya’s whines from how their boots weren’t fit for the snow. This is exactly why Jia spent so much time whining about clothing. 

The soldiers shared cabins or tents. You girls too got your own cabin to share- unfortunately quite small so you’ll have to put up with Maya’s snores throughout the night, however big enough for the 4 of you. The main area had its own cabin. That’s where the soldiers mostly hang out and eat. 

As you girls made your way to the main area, commander Chan introduced you to everyone. There seemed to be at least 40 men in there, thankfully all divided into units so it was easier to organise when you’ll be working with who. 

Everyone gave you a warm welcome. You girls spent the first hour chatting with some of them, or you could say flirting for Maya and Sakura, before going into your cabin and unpacking your stuff.

Everyone was really sweet. Two soldiers, a long haired guy with a mole under his eye and another slightly taller than him with a dorito-like physique showed you around the area and let you know the schedule for breakfast, training and lunch. The area was quite open, you could see yourself getting comfortable here as it was very quiet. However, during all this you felt a pair of eyes on you. Though looking around you never saw anyone who could be staring.

“Slow down Yeo! It’s really rocky here” the little girl pants, trying to keep up with the energetic boy in front of her. He’s practically waddling like an excited maltese dog that’s about to get a treat.

“Just a little more, come on!” he grabs onto her hand speeding up her steps, now reaching his pace.

The two youngsters reach the top of the hill, overlooking the dazzling sight of flowers in different shapes and colours spread out across the field. 

The girl lets out a gasp eyes sparkling “This is… what you wanted to show me?”

“What do you think?”

“Yeo this is…. Beautiful” her eyes scan across the field, completely forgetting the distant yelling from her mom she was worrying about 15 minutes ago from why she took so long to get back home after school. 

“It’s gorgeous” says the boy, but he’s not looking at the scenery of flowers. He’s looking directly at her. Swimming in the ocean of her sparkling eyes reflecting the warm colours from the sunset. 

You are gorgeous he thought to himself.

The day was busy. Each unit who was on their breaks got their letters done and even though it was only day one, you managed to get lots done already. It was already pitch black outside and everyone was already tucked into their cabins.

Maybe you were still in work-mode but your body had no intentions to rest as you couldn’t stop tossing and turning in your bunk bed so you decided to take a step outside. You walked over to a corner with bright pink flowers contrasting the white snow, standing tall and so youthful.

“So beautiful…” you whispered, crouching to touch the soft pedals. They look like they have just bloomed. 

“Cyclamen” a deep voice from behind you startles you, letting out a light yelp from you as you turn around quickly. Your yelp almost turns into a loud gasp as you quickly identify the figure owning that deep voice. 

His hair is a light chocolate brown, long enough to be tucked behind his ears but not in a I haven’t thought about cutting my hair type of way- it was well maintained. He was taller than you but not enough so that you’re practically looking up. His body was clearly fit, arm muscles very prominent even from his camo print thick jacket. His skin was pale. So pale it looked like milk. So pale it emphasized the pink mark by his left eye.  

Kang Yeosang.

You had no doubt this was the same boy who used to have thick pitch black hair, sometimes patchy bangs from the self haircut his sister used to give him. The same boy who looked at everyone with sparkly eyes and clapped his hands together when he laughed. 

This was your Kang Yeosang.

“Those flowers are Cyclamen” he said expressionless, hands in his pockets. 

You don’t know if it's the cold air drying your eyes or your overwhelming emotion but you start to feel tears forming, so hot and full of sentiment they almost burn your skin. “Yeosang…?” you whisper but it comes out shaky. 

“They mostly bloom in cold weather” he says, still in the same stance.

“Are there any more flowers around here?” you sniffle out tilting your head.

“I’ve seen snow roses around here before. Would you like to see them with me someday?”

“I’d love to” you said with a smile, now earning a smile from him.

He takes his hands out of his pockets and steps closer to you, pulling you into a hug which you gracefully accept, your arms latching around his neck almost a bit too tight. 

“Hello Y/N” and that's your breaking point. You start sobbing into his chest muffling out I miss yous to which he responds with a hand on your head, caressing it gently. 

“I’m here”

The walk was quiet and heavy. Each step representing minutes lost from each other.

The girl is the first to break the icy silence “can’t you wait at least till next year? We just graduated”

“Y/N this isn’t my choice to make, I don’t have any other choice. It’s what I’m supposed to do” the boy says against his wishes.

“When will I be able to see you again?” the girl now looks at him glass eyed.

“I don’t know” he lowers his head but quickly looks at her holding her hand. “Hey, no matter how long it will take, I will always be here, yea? I promise Y/N”

“Please don’t break that promise Yeo..”

The following days you and Yeosang were practically glued together when you had the time. You caught up on each other's life events and even reminisced about your childhood together. It was almost like you were kids again, except you noticed how serious Yeosang is now.

You don’t expect him to have that same innocence as he had when you were younger. He’s a grown man now and also a soldier. Not a particularly happy go lucky type of job. However, apart from teeth smiles while covering his mouth with his hand, you haven’t heard him laugh yet. You missed it. You missed the days when you both ran around giggling at any little thing. Is that boy you loved, lost?

“But yea, let’s just say leaving a half opened can of soup in a tent for 2 weeks isn’t a great idea” he scratched his head and lightly chuckled.

You laughed at his stories with his cabinmates. So far he has only told you about silly fun stories with his friends, apart from him explaining the basic routine of what they do in training. You were glad he was able to make fond memories as a soldier, especially since you knew how nervous he was joining the military.

But something about you knew that wasn’t all. Has he really been doing well? What about the times he's been in battle? Has he been greatly injured before? Broken a bone maybe? Does he miss his family?

Did he ever think about you?

“Yeo…” you placed your spoon down. The main cabin was far too loud for both of you to have a conversation so you and him chose to stay in his tent for breakfast and dinners. His cabinmates barely stayed there unless it was for sleep so you had all the privacy you wanted. 

“How are you? Really”

“I’m doing well”

“No Yeo, I mean about everything. Do you like it here? Don’t you miss home?”

“Home? Well… Mom occasionally sends letters, I’ve visited sometimes but travel is so long I’d only have a day with them till I have to come back so… I’ve stopped visiting.” How long has it been since he’s had a home cooked meal?

“This definitely isn’t luxury heh, but I’m used to it Y/N. Don’t worry about me, I know what I’m doing here”

“Do you ever think about… me? Us?” immediately his gaze softens to your words. This is probably the first time you’ve seen a genuine expression on his face since being here. His hand is gently placed on your thigh and he brings his face closer to you. 

“Of course Y/N, I told you I’ll always be here. I promised” his eyes burn into your soul and your gaze meets his birthmark. Your finger moves by itself and goes to gently touch it.

“I don’t see you anymore Yeosang… everything is so different”

“I know. It’s hard. This is all very hard but we are going to work this out Y/N” 

Your faces are so close together you can practically taste his breath. His eyes land to your lips and for a second you could see the pupils of his eyes grow. He slowly breaks the space between you and you close your eyes, expecting to feel a touch on your lips  until he breaks off the moment with a whisper “I want to write a letter.”

“I don’t understand thissssss~ let’s just take a break” 

“We’ve already taken 2 breaks. Here, I started the first step for you, now remember what we did for question 6, it’s basically the same thing” the boy hands her the sheet of paper.

“Yeo I appreciate your help but maybe this is a sign from god that I should just give up on Math” the girl slouches on her seat kicking her feet.

“Math isn’t that hard, you just need to focus. Now come on we still have 5 pages left.”

“5 PAGES!? I might as well throw myself off the window” 

“If you finish this in the next hour” he leans in close to her ear “I might give you a kiss” he leans back to his chair with a smug look on his face.

You’d think the girl wore face paint on her face from the deep red that was now formed. Without a word she picks up a pencil and writes away on her paper. 

“Damn you Yeosang”

Some people get frustrated with slow walkers in front of them, slow drivers or even someone talking way too calmly, but the way Yeosang is working the typewriter makes you want to snatch it from him and do the job yourself.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to write the letter for you?” 

“It’s fine I got this” he continues on with his slow pace.

“Who are you writing that letter to anyway?”

“Just someone”

“Who is just someone?”

“A person I know”

 “Who is this person you know?”

“You don’t know them”

“Pleaseee Yeooo~” you lean in closer to him “I’ll give you a kiss if you tell me who” you giggle remembering his little tactic he used to use on you in school.

“Mmmm I’ll think about it” you huff in frustration and he laughs. 

He laughs. 

Your worries of losing the boy you loved dearly completely vanished as you finally see that innocent boy back. His laugh sounded like the doorbell of a childhood house, where kids would run to see if daddy is home. The last bell ring at school, when kids ran home to show mommy what they drew. The sound of the ice cream truck song amplifying as it rolled up from down the street. The clicking sound of riding your first bike, parents cheering in the background for balancing without training wheels.

He sounded like childhood and you felt like a child again. 

In what felt like forever, Yeosang finished his letter. Sealing the paper into an envelope ready to be read by this mystery person you so badly wanted to know. 

“Okay I’ll take it and make sure to send it out. Make sure to write the address.” you reach your hand out but he doesn't move.

“Oh no I want to keep it”

“What?”

“I want to keep the letter.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you want to send it to that person?”

“Not yet.”

 “We can withhold it and send it at any given time you want”

“It’s fine, I’ll send it myself”

Him protecting this letter made you even more curious as to who it was for. Surely he didn’t just write something for fun. Who was this friend? Was it a girl? Or possibly a lover? Surely not. Especially not when he almost just kissed you a while ago. 

He promised. You’re just overthinking. Right?

It was your last day with the soldiers. You only had a couple of letters to finish and by nightfall you and the girls were set off to travel back home. Absolute no bone in your body wanted to go back home. This meant being separated from Yeosang again and you weren’t ready to let him go yet, you only just reunited with him.

“Y/N, you have a visitor waiting” Maya points to the door, only to see Yeosang waiting for you. 

“I have a few more letters to write th-” you’re shushed by Maya when she lightly shoves you out of the room “Don’t worry, we got this, you go enjoy your last moments with lover boy” she whispers the last part although Yeosang surely heard judging by the way he looked away.

“Ooo he’s a shy lover boy too” Maya says before closing the door, you can still hear her giggles through the wall as you’re now left alone with Yeosang.

“Shall we go?” he quietly says. 

“Yeah, where are we going?” 

“You’ll see”

The two of you slowly walk side by side, occasionally bumping the sides of your arms. There isn’t much talking but the silence is comfortable. Almost too comfortable that you forget this is the last time you get to examine his features before the final goodbye for god knows how long it will be again.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Yeosang hands you a big white flower, a snow rose. “This is the snow rose I told you about” he said with a smile gently handing it over to you.

“Yeos-”

“Marry me Y/N”

What.

Time stops for a second. A long second. Even the birds stop chirping and the wind halts. You aren’t sure what just happened but your heart knows for sure that it’s a big deal as it beats so hard, destined to break out of you and reach his own, intertwining with his and merging into one. 

“What did you say?” you mutter quietly.

In contrast with your tone, Yeosang is confident. His chin is up high, shoulders back and there's a look in his eyes that show no sign of hesitation. 

“I want you to marry me Y/N” he takes a step closer, and another, and another, till you’re now backed up into the rough surface of a tree.

“I’m going to make this work, I’ll find a way to leave this place if I have to but Y/N, I can’t let you go again.” he cups your face gently and swipes his thumb across your cheek “I’m done keeping promises and making you wait, I want to be with you Y/N, only you” he rests his forehead against yours.

“Come home to me Yeosang” you breathe onto his lips before locking them together. 

Your lips dance together so full of passion and need it almost feels as if your bodies are intertwining into one. You feel his small smile through the kiss as you deepen it, locking your hands in his hair while his explores the sides of your body.

Cold air hits your belly as he lifts up your shirt to slide his hand against your skin, caressing your chest. If you weren’t so lost in the kiss you would have noticed that he was practically spelling his name across your chest with his hand movements.

Remembering that you both need to breathe, he’s the first to break the kiss. You’re both a panting mess but he manages you let out a chuckle “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes in every language Yeosang. I will marry you” you smile out taking in his lips once again.

You asked for a rose, but Yeosang gave you a whole garden.  

Two years later

“Tell me Cupid, what should I tell her? I’m so scared. What if she’s waiting for another man?” the man from across you says, blowing his nose into his now 8th tissue in the past 10 minutes.

“Sir Walker, you clearly love her right?”

“Yes! Oh heavens more than anything, I-I’d kill for her, I’d crawl on my knees for he-” he sighs taking a breath “I don’t imagine a life without her”

“Then fight for her” you say softly.

“She’s lands away from me Cupid! How will I be a man to her if I cant even reach for her?”

“Make that happen. You said you would kill and crawl for her. Put actions to your words Sir Walker and show her you love her. You are living in the same lifetime, right here, right now, don’t regret your choices and lose her. She needs to see you fight for her” 

The man breaks down but looks up at you again, composing himself before saying “Have you experienced love Cupid?”

“Everyone experiences love. If not now, one day, just as you wait for love, there is another person waiting for the same. Everyone has someone awaiting them” you softly smile. 

“I’ll do it. Tell her I’m coming to get her. I’m not sure when but from today onwards, she will be my focus” the man lets out a broken smile. Broken yet mendable.

“She will be waiting for you Sir Walker” you say before typing away, a paragraph that awaits a new chapter for the couple.

Your night ends with that heartfelt love story. You hope the best for the couple and your heart nearly breaks with his as you also can’t help but think about your person you are waiting for. 

The weather outside is mean. Almost in hopes of drowning man in its rage. The thunder roars and you’re left counting sheep in your head- something you’ve been doing ever since you were a kid to calm down. 

As you’re walking out of the building Jia calls you from behind “Y/N you have a letter!”

She runs up to you and hands you the letter. “Who is this from?” you ask as you’ve never received a letter before. 

“Hm not sure” she looks into a room, clearly distracted by something, or someone as you look at the direction only to see the famous mailman who has been working here years before you joined the company- Tony.

“Um yea I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N I gotta go, bye! Let me know who that letter is from!” she says from a distance practically skipping her way to Tony,

You don't get the chance to even reply to her before she's gone. You look at the letter and there is no address to indicate where it was sent from, which could only mean this letter must have been dropped off by the sender here at the company.

You walk out the building, still sheltered from the awning covering you. Your steps are heavy, unable to move.

It's fine Y/N let's take this slow you thought to yourself deciding to just stand there for a while before making your way home.

You curiously open the letter and start reading it;

Dear Y/N,

How are you? I am writing this letter to you while you are right next to me. I hope you’re not mad about almost kissing you and asking to write a letter instead. It’s just that I wanted to capture my feelings towards you at this given moment, so we can hopefully both look back at this letter.

You asked me if I liked it here. I don’t. I hate the feeling of knowing every movement I make can be my last, and that I won’t be able to say my final goodbye to you. I hate that I go to sleep at night, responsible for another lost man from his lover. I wish I could be able to come home from work and tell you about my day. But what can I tell you? About how many screams I heard? How bloody my hands are after every battle? 

You asked me if I think about you. My answer is yes. Painfully yes. I always think about what you could be doing at any time. If you found yourself love. I worry everytime it rains, do you have anyone to hold your hand during thunderstorms? I force myself to repeat your voice in my head because I’m so afraid of forgetting what you sound like. I always remember about the day I took you to the flower field. You looked so beautiful in that moment. So everytime I find a flower, I make sure to stop and admire it, pretending it’s you. Because to me, you are far more beautiful than any flower out there. 

I will come home to you Y/N. I promised I would be there. I promised to hold your hand. And I will fulfil my promises, even if it means fighting for my life. 

Wait for me my love.

Love,

Yeosang. 

“Damn you Yeosang” you chuckled out, a crack in your voice causing tears to slip out. You look up to the sight of the man in reason for these tears. He’s still wearing his uniform, hat covering half his face. He seems to have gotten bigger in physique too. He drops his hat and you smile widely at the sight of his birthmark, now holding smiling eyes.

“It’s raining” he said, reaching out a hand “I’m here to hold your hand.”

You completely ignore the extended hand and crash your body into his for a tight hug. An embrace with no chance of him slipping out. 

“You came home” you said into his chest.

“I came to stay” 

“And to hold my hand” 

“And to hold your hand” he laughs out.

Yeosang was your childhood. Yeosang is your home.

[diejager]

hi so big fan :D, im terribly obsessed with literally all of your cod fics but oh my god stepdad könig + horangi drives me nuts-

just wanted to throw an idea in your brain because i cant stop thinking about it but imagine if reader used to go braless around the house (because its just her n mom) but after the introduction of 2 new unfamiliar guys in the house she puts on a bra when she leaves her room (but she also forgets sometimes and they call her a tease for it)

With time however, with all the fucking and the constant attention horangi and könig have been giving her nipples, theyre so fucking sensitive she like shudders when they scrape on surfaces on accident (ex. the edge of a table, fabric of her clothes) so she starts wearing a bra all the time to stop that from happening but könig and horangi don't like that so they take ALL her bras-

oh also another idea that popped up but what if reader who usually dresses rather tomboyish/masc also occasionally enjoys wearing very fem/provocative outfits. BUT könig and horangi have only ever seen reader wear masc outfits since theyve known each other. reader still wears her fem outfits but now she wears it under a bulky jacket and baggy jeans and changes out of it in uni/public toilet.

so like one day horangi is out and has to do a double take on reader out in public because they dont recognize them in their outfit (ex. a form-fitting sundress or a mini skirt with sheer tights and cute leg warmers) and he remembers reader leaving the house in something else. fuck i just know könig and horangi are going to get SOOOO many ideas on how to punish reader for that.

any ways thats it from me love ya <3

Hii, I looked at your illustrations and I LOVE them, they’re all so clean and nice.

Cw: DARKFIC, STEPCEST, DUB-CON/NON-CON, smut, size kink, possessive behaviour, delusional, tell me if I missed any.

König used to enjoy stripping you, the act of ripping your bra off and watch your breasts sway from his rough treatment. There was something empowering to it, a show of dominance and possession over you when he could strip you naked under him or watch Horangi straddle you and pull your shirt and bra off, sliding your panties down your thighs. He found pleasure in doing so when you walked around in baggy clothes, hiding your shape and curves from his hungry eyes, it was like unwrapping a long-awaited present that he’d been teased with for so, so long.

If he was especially lucky, he’d find you without a bra, your perky nipples pressing against his chest or peaking under your shirt, two small and hard nubs that tempted him with the prospect of something sweet to bite and suck. He liked admiring them, all swollen and slick with his or Horangi’s saliva, spitting or letting drool fall on your tits while they fucked you, marking your sensitive skin with the indentation of their teeth and dark splotches all across your chest. You always whined about it hurting, pushing them away with frail arms, fighting with weak hits and slow kicks. What you thought would be a deterrent, was fuel to their growing hunger, they were men who liked the fight, the struggle, a prey that wouldn’t fall too easily.

But now, he was growing annoyed that you always wore a bra, like an incessant pest that slowed him down from getting to his prize, even Horangi had complained about it and how intricate your choice of bra straps you bought, all the complicated knots and crosses that made their job much harder than it should when they were pleasuring you. How could you make it so difficult for them? They always made you come, their thick girth splitting you in half and filling you in hot and bitter cum. They tried talking you out of wearing bras, but in your rebellious phase, you glared and ignored their words. There wasn’t much they could do to convince you to stop wearing them, there wasn’t truly anything they could hold against you. So they took them away, making you ask for them if you wanted to wear one and it had to be reasonable.

It seemed that you didn’t like their decision, coming to them for a bra every two day to go out, it left them watching you walk out the door in nothing but jeans, a shirt under your jacket, headphones holding your cap down and a backpack slung over your shoulder, hanging low on your back. It irked him that you always hid your beautiful body, something you should be proud of showing off, but perhaps it was to keep your body for themselves, to dance and writhe in your nude for them only, a treasure that only König and Horangi were privy to. He figured it was something he should be proud of.

Then Horangi told him how he found you in a short skirt and a shirt that rode up your abdomen and showed your pretty bra if you raised your arms, the soft jacket you left home slung around your shoulders, dipping low enough to show your back, but your jeans, shirt and cap were gone, stuffed in the now-filled bag. König couldn’t help but mimic the deep sneer on Horangi’s face, teeth tearing into his lip at your audacity of wearing such promiscuous attire for the world to see and hiding yourself from them. It made them wrathful, a deep-seated anger and envy that boiled until you got home, changed into the same baggy clothes you left with. This warranted a punishment, to teach you a lesson about lying to them and holding out on them. 

“Come here, du scheiß Gör,” König growled, glaring at your shuddering figure. [you fucking brat.]

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @lucienbarkbark @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @223princess @maylovesyousomuch @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[tcwmatchmakingau]

Commander Mayday illustration by @nika6q

A Match for Mayday: Chapter 1

Editor's note: This fic is a collaboration between @nika6q (artwork) and @dystopicjumpsuit (story)

Pairing: Mayday x Flower Farmer Reader 

Rating: T

Wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings and tags: fluff

A/N: dedicated to @nika6q ❤️‍🩹

Read Chapter 2 here!

Your sister has always had immaculate taste. From her gorgeous flat in a Coruscant high-rise, to the handsome trooper currently staring down at her with adoration in his soft brown eyes as she wraps her arm around his waist, to the selection of high-quality brews in the conservator which you are currently raiding, she has curated a beautiful life for herself. She’s been your best friend since the day she was born, and you couldn’t be happier for her. You didn’t have an easy childhood, and seeing your little sister settled and thriving is everything you had hoped for her during those difficult days. 

Her boyfriend—no, make that fiancé—practically worships her. As you watch them through the sliding glass door, you realize you’ve never seen her look as content as she does in that moment, smiling softly up at Hexx. Unbeknownst to you, an identical smile plays on your own lips as you close the conservator door. Just as you do, a latecomer enters the kitchen, and you turn automatically to greet him, your eyes widening as you take him in. 

He’s a clone, but damn, what a clone. He looks older than Hexx and most of his brothers, though that might be due to his beard and longer hair. He’s tall and solidly built, and even in civilian clothing, he looks imposing. His long sleeves are rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle, with a hint of tattoo ink peeking from the edge of the fabric.

“Hello,” you greet him, that soft smile still in place as you introduce yourself.

“Mayday,” he replies, and his voice is deeper and and more gravelly than you’ve heard from other clones. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

Up close, you can see faint lines around his eyes, and a sprinkle of silver in his hair. Definitely older than Hexx, then. 

“Can I get you a beer?” you offer. “Or are you a whiskey man?”

“A beer sounds great, thanks,” he says, and you hand him the cold bottle you just pulled out of the conservator. His fingers brush against yours, soft and warm, and his eyes follow you as you turn to pull another bottle out of the conservator. “How do you know Hexx and Sunni?”

“Sunni is my sister,” you reply.

“I thought I saw the resemblance,” he says. “Why aren’t you out partying with the others?”

“Just came in for a drink,” you reply. He arches an eyebrow, and you buckle immediately under his unspoken interrogation. “And to hide for a few minutes.”

“Now, why would you want to hide?” he asks, tapping his bottle against yours and taking a long sip.

You shrug. “Not a huge fan of crowds. They make me nervous.”

“You must hate living on Coruscant, then,” he says.

“I would if I lived here,” you reply.

“You’re not local?” he asks, and you’re not sure if you’re imagining the hint of regret in his tone.

“No, I live on Nakadia,” you reply. “I’m only on Corrie for the engagement party.”

“Nakadia?” he asks. “Then you must be the farmer.”

“Yes, I own a flower farm there,” you reply. “How did you know?”

“Hexx told me they were having the wedding at your farm. You’re a brave woman to agree to host that many clones for a party,” he says with a charming smile.

“I’d do anything for Sunni,” you reply. “But I have to admit it’s weird to think that she’s getting married when I still see the adorable little girl with fluffy hair and a face covered in jelly when I look at her.”

“I know the feeling,” Mayday says with an ironic twist of his mouth. “We do what we can for them, but in the end, we have to trust them to know what they’re doing.”

“Hexx seems like a good man,” you say tentatively. “And he makes her happy.”

“Have you known him long?” he asks.

“I’d only spoken to him on holocalls until I got to Corrie three days ago,” you reply. “What about you? Did you serve with him?”

Mayday nods. “I’m his commanding officer, at least for the moment. I can tell you that there’s not a more loyal soldier in the GAR. He’ll take good care of your sister.”

“When you say ‘for the moment,’ what does that mean? Is he being reassigned?” you ask curiously. Sunni hadn’t mentioned it.

“Not to my knowledge,” he replies. “But I am retiring.”

He seems too young to be retiring, but there is a weariness about his eyes that makes you think he’s earned it.

“What will you do then?” you ask, relaxing back against the countertop.

Mayday mimics your laid-back posture, leaning against the wall as he answers. “Haven’t decided yet. I might just spend some time enjoying being the only person in charge of my time.”

“You’re not going to rush down to RTL to find the love of your life?” you ask, a teasing light springing into your eyes.

“Nah, not for me,” he replies. “I’d prefer to meet somebody organically.”

“Understandable,” you reply. “Though it certainly worked out well for Sunni and Hexx.”

“And what about you?” he asks.

“What about me?” You take a sip of beer and enjoy its icy effervescence on your tongue.

“Any plans to visit the matchmaker?”

“I’m not really interested,” you admit.

Mayday nods slightly, his eyes unreadable. “So you’re taken, then?”

The door slides open abruptly, and Sunni bursts in like the force of nature that she truly is, tugging Hexx behind her.

“Are you hiding in here?” she demands with an infectious laugh. 

“Of course not!” you lie with dignity. “I was entertaining your guest.”

“Welcome, Commander,” Hexx says, subtly standing at attention.

“Relax, Hexx. You don’t need to salute me at your own engagement party,” Mayday says with that easy, charming smile.

Hexx and Sunni sweep you back outside to join the rest of the party goers before you get a chance to tell Mayday that you are very single.

Months pass before you see Mayday again. Sunni is swept up in wedding plans, and you head back to Nakadia to tend to your farm. There’s plenty to do, between your normal responsibilities and the additional work of getting the property ready to host a large wedding. If you think Sunni is a social butterfly, she pales in comparison to Hexx and his multitude of brothers. Sunni is going to have the largest family-in-law in the galaxy, and it seems like half the GAR will be attending the wedding, along with their plus-ones, most of whom had met through Right to Love Matchmaking. Several of the matchmakers are also invited, and you hope they aren’t so dedicated to their work that they will harass you to sign up for their services. 

A few weeks before the wedding, Sunni and Hexx arrive with a large contingent of clones to help with the labor of getting the farm ready for such a large gathering. Veetch is there, of course, along with numerous members of the 77th Heavy Brigade. 

And, of course, Mayday is there. 

It takes an unbelievable amount of work to get the farm ready, but given that Hexx has quite literally brought a small army to help, it goes faster than you expect. The entire first day is spent clearing brush to make space for the large pavilion where the reception will take place. It is dirty, sweaty, backbreaking work, even with the help of the droids. You are exhausted at the end of the day, and after taking a quick shower, you make your way out to the front porch to watch the sunset. It’s your favorite vantage point, and it’s a nightly ritual that you almost never miss.

Tonight, though, someone has already claimed your spot. His tall, broad form leans casually against the pillar as he surveys your lovely farm. In the golden light of early sunset, you pick up the glints of lighter brown and gold in his dark hair, and for an instant, you wonder what it would feel like to twine your fingers through it. On impulse, you stop in the kitchen and pull two bottles of ale out of your conservator. You join him and offer him a bottle wordlessly. He nods his thanks and goes back to staring out at the kaleidoscopic fields of flowers. 

You didn’t see much of him today. He has been busy working on a special project in the barn, and his sleeves are littered with a fine layer of wood shavings. Your knees creak a little as you lower yourself to sit on the porch step, and soon he joins you. 

“Nice place you have here,” he says at last, breaking the evening serenity. “Peaceful.”

“That’s what drew me here,” you reply.

He looks at you curiously. “Trying to avoid crowds?”

You nod, not wanting to spoil the tranquility of the moment by delving into your personal history. “It’s a good place to live a quiet life.”

“That sounds…” he begins, but he trails off. 

His eyes have a faraway expression, and you wonder what horrors he’s seen to make him look so karking tired. He doesn’t continue, and you don’t prod him. Instead, you quietly watch the sun paint the sky in a wash of pastel. As the light fades and the dusk creeps in, you exchange occasional desultory remarks, but mostly you sit in companionable silence, drinking slowly and simply enjoying each other’s nearness.

“It’s a good place for a wedding,” he observes.

“Yes, I always thought if I ever got married, it would be here.” You smile. “I wouldn’t want the big party, though. Just a few people. Sunni and Hexx, a few close friends. A simple ceremony, and then a cozy dinner party under those trees,” you say, gesturing at the nearby copse of acthorn trees.

“You’ve thought it out,” he observes.

You let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle. “Kind of hard not to with everything going on.”

“That’s fair,” he says. “I never thought much about weddings. Didn’t think it would be a possibility.”

“Is this the first you’ve been to?” you ask curiously.

He shakes his head. “The matchmakers have been busy. Half of the commanders have paired up, and the other half are just waiting for their turn.”

“But not you?”

He shrugs. “Can’t say I ever thought much about the war ending, until it did. By then, it seemed a little late to start planning a life I never thought I’d have.”

You frown. “It’s not too late. You’ve earned that life, Mayday.”

“Maybe,” he acknowledges. “But I won’t find it on a speed date.”

He’s waiting for you the next night, too, and the one after. Each evening, you open up more to him, and the two of you spend hours conversing in low voices late into the night.

“How many kinds of flowers do you grow?” he asks as he looks out across the vibrant patchwork of blossoms that stretches to the edge of your farm.

“Hundreds,” you reply. “Not all at once. I stagger the plantings to extend the growing season and keep the income a little more predictable.”

“Which ones are your favorite?”

“Fire lilies,” you reply. “They’re unpopular with buyers, but I still grow a patch of them just for myself.”

“I’ve never seen one,” he says.

“Would you like to?”

“Very much,” he replies.

You stand slowly. You’re accustomed to hard work, but the past few days have been a whole other level of manual labor. A tiny moan of relief escapes you as you stretch your tired muscles. When you turn to Mayday, he is watching you with an indecipherable expression. He’s very good at that, you’ve noticed. Sometimes he is very open and easy to read, and others he is incredibly guarded. He must be an excellent sabbac player, you reflect.

With a small smile at the thought, you lead him through the twilight into the garden. In the fading purple light, the lush perfume of the lilies surrounds you in a sweet, heady cloud.

“May I pick one?” he asks.

“Of course,” you reply. 

Most people don’t bother to ask, and you never realized how much it bothered you until Mayday’s courtesy reminds you that you have a right to say no. He plucks a blossom carefully, reverently, making sure not to damage the rest of the plant. 

“They’re beautiful,” he says quietly. “I can see why they’re your favorite. Why don’t buyers like them?”

“They don’t last long once they’re picked,” you reply. “It makes transporting them tricky.”

“Then I’m sorry I picked this one,” he says.

“Don’t be,” you reply. “There will be more tomorrow.”

The sun has fully set now, and his dark eyes reflect the pale light of the moons. He examines the blossom closely, taking in the graceful curves of the petals, the striations and speckles at the center, the delicate filaments of the stamens. His eyes rise to your face, and his hands follow nearly unconsciously. His knuckles brush subtly against your cheek as he tucks the flower into your hair. Your mouth suddenly feels very dry, and you swallow without meaning to.

“Beautiful,” he repeats.

---

Read Chapter 2 here!

[lazzarella]

Peaceful Property rambling incoming! I wrote it in like ten minutes, so it’s a mess, but I’ve been meaning to write this since ep 6 and I just wanted to finally get some of my thoughts out. This really is more for myself than anything I guess 😅

TL;DR I’m finding the writing in Peaceful Property really good and satisfying, especially when it comes to tropes I sometimes find frustrating or offputting or that are often poorly executed imho

The writing in Peaceful Property has been so good and so satisfying to me so far! The pacing in general is really nice, and there's been some nice misdirection/red herrings (I kept forgetting to write about this and now I can't remember what they were lol) and I think the pace of the reveals has been really good too. Like, if we knew from the outset that Peach was hit by a car and died for a while, I feel like it would've been easier to suspect Home's involvement? Similarly, if we knew that Home had been involved in a hit and run earlier, I don't think the audience would've sympathised with him as much (of course, some people have lost sympathy with him now, and that's understandable)

But the writing is also a good illustration of how tropes that aren't my favourite or can be frustrating for me can end up enjoyable in certain writers' hands. Obviously, this is just a personal preference, but I often find the 'person wants to confess something and takes their time doing it because they're nervous and then, when they're finally ready, the person they want to confess to finds out some other way with disastrous results' trope frustrating at times. But it worked SO well here! I think the frustration sometimes comes from it not fitting characters, but it fits Home and Peach so well and the setup worked well to make it believable for me too!

Like, Home has never had to take responsibility for anything ever. Of course he doesn't know how to own up to what he's done wrong! Especially not to someone he truly cares about! (Which also seems like a rarity in his life). Like, he literally has no precedent in his life to draw from as far as we know. And he has a family and he doesn't want to risk it and he wants the apology to be perfect. So, it makes sense to me that he would hesitate and take so long!

And, of course, Peach's devastation is believable, but him jumping to the conclusion that Home knew all along when he sees the video makes sense too! Yeah, he's learnt to trust Home, but seeing that video would just really mess you up, right? That the worst thing that's ever happened to you was done by this person you now see as family? I think it's easy to assume he'd known who he hit. And Home's family stepping in before Home can explain also makes perfect sense because they've done it before. So, yeah, where I can sometimes find this setup frustrating and annoying because it doesn't fit the characters or it's just sort of weak, I thought it was really strong here

(As a sidenote: I'm not necessarily mad at Kan, but really really curious about what's going on with her, so that's another nice piece of writing for me personally. I'm not saying she's not out of line, but she's so mysterious that, yeah, I'm just SO damn curious more than anything)

I can also go either way on the 'poor person rejects rich person's money out of pride, etc.' trope. But, again, I thought it worked perfectly here! There were a couple of other posts that went over why it made sense for them, and it definitely worked for me too. Peach is still very emotionally raw, he believes his friend—his family—has been lying to him all along, probably using the money to assuage his guilt, and now this attorney says he's there on Home's behalf, so he's reacting emotionally on some level. (I mean, we see him not long after sobbing on the bathroom floor) He feels used and betrayed and the money—even for the work he's already done—symbolises that to him. 

So, yeah, like a lot of the writing in the show, his rejection of return of the money is symbolic of severing ties with Home and rejecting what he sees as corrupt ideals, or whatever. He wants Home to know, without a doubt, that he wants nothing more to do with him. And, because Peach thinks Home cares more about money than anything else (and has good reason to believe so), this feels like a 'hit 'em where it hurts' thing to me too? 

But, yeah, sometimes I hate this trope, but it worked well for me here as well because of the way it was written

Anyway, I'm repeating what others have said, and I don't know where I'm going with this, but, in conclusion, I'm finding the writing SO satisfying. I could probably do a breakdown of every ep, but I won't because I'm lazy and also just parroting what's been said already haha

[corvus--rex]

Lance and Keith started dating early in high school, even before Keith came out and started his transition, and it's now just after college and they're engaged. They've been with Lance's family for the day, Sylvio and Nadia included.

The kids are 6 and 4 and have known Keith literally their entire lives. They were too young during various stages to understand what was going on, but they both know Keith's trans.

Needing a break, Keith is curled up against Lance in the living room, while Sylvio and Nadia are sprawled on the floor with a book each. Nadia's only just learning to read, but she already loves books. She's turning the pages, mostly looking at the pictures, when she looks up, interrupting Keith and Lance's quiet conversation.

"Tío Keef, why aren't there families in my stories like ours?"

It's been about 15 years since he's read a kids' book and doesn't understand where's she's going with this. "What do you mean, munchkin?"

Nadia puts her book down, turning to face him in all the seriousness a 4 year old can muster. "They all have a mami and a papi, but not - not -" her face scrunches as she tries to find the right word.

She doesn't need to find the right word, the realization of what she's asking hits him at full force. He sits up, leaning forward to meet her eyes. "You wanna know why there isn't anyone like me?"

She nods. "It's not fair."

It's an innocent question, but she asked it with such naive sincerity, genuinely upset that she didn't see her own family in her favorite books. It gave Keith an idea. He had a new sketchbook in the backseat of his car, a very recent art degree, and the few creative writing classes he'd taken.

Nadia's books didn't have her family in their pages, but maybe they could.

"Y'know what? I'll be right back."

He ran out to his car and back with the sketchbook, plus the mechanical pencil and ballpoint pen from his bag, and sat down on the floor with her, meeting Lance's confused look asking what the hell he was doing with one that said "trust me".

"Ok, munchkin," he said to Nadia, "If your stories don't have our family in them, how about we make a new story?"

Nadia's face lit up. "We can make a new one? With our kind of family in it?"

"We can, but I'll need your help."

Sylvio was pretending to read his own book, but Lance could see him listening in and sneaking looks at the rough sketches. That didn't last long, the book quickly forgotten in favor of throwing out wilder and wilder ideas for the story with Keith gently reeling him in. Sylvio was not one to be reeled in, and Lance soon joined them on the floor to help wrangle the kids' enthusiasm. They stayed there for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, neither one wanting to leave when their parents came to tell them it was time to go. They only stopped fighting it when Keith promised them they'd work on the story again.

He kept that promise, taking the kids out every few weeks, showing them what he'd done in between when he had time, and them continuing the story and illustrations.

After it was finished, he left it for a while, not forgotten, but resting. Eventually, he pulled the illustrations and their companion sheets of text from the shoebox-like storage box he'd gotten just for this, matching art to words.

Lance came home from work to their apartment that evening to find Keith on the living room floor, bristol board and printer paper in an organized chaos around him.

"Think it's really done?" Lance asked.

Keith sighed and leaned back against the sofa. There was one thing about the book he hadn't told anyone yet, but after the email he'd gotten earlier in the day, he finally could.

"Yeah I do." He paused and looked up, a little bit guilty, but mostly trying to contain excitement. "I found a publisher for it. They're a queer-owned company. I actually sent it off about a month ago and I finally heard back today. They love it."

It had started as a picture book, but evolved since then into something a little bigger. Nadia wanted cats - all different colors, and not little kitties, no she wanted lions. And the lions had to have knights to ride on them. Sylvio was the one to insist on a princess and that she had to be their honorary Tía Allura. Gradually, all of the knights and princess ended up based on people the kids knew, Keith and Lance included. It made sense and Keith loved it and the idea of family including the one you make for yourself.

When it came time for a name for this story of found family and adventures, Sylvio yelled "Defenders of the UNIVERSE!" at the top of his lungs in the middle of the park. Nadia had been taking a break from the playground, sitting next to Keith with her coloring pad. She'd drawn the lions from their story, facing out in a vaguely star shape, their tails meeting in the middle.

Keith asked for her opinion on a story name and also what she was drawing and without looking up from her coloring, she said "Its name is Voltron."

Keith put the two together, and when the book was published, its cover was the lions Nadia had drawn that day, only by Keith's hand this time, framed on top and bottom by the book's name: Defenders of The Universe, a Voltron story.

No one had seen the dedication, not until Keith got the advance copies, giving one each to Sylvio and Nadia in the same living room the story had started in. Nadia climbed into Keith's lap with it, Sylvio squeezing himself in between Keith and Lance on the sofa.

Looking over Sylvio's shoulder, Lance read it aloud.

"For Sylvio and Nadia, the original Defenders, this book wouldn't exist without you. Don't stop reading or dreaming."

[writingwenches]

the library

❧ Helaena Targaryen x Friendship OC // Aemond spying

drabble synopsis -- fluff friendship, very simple, not much story meat on the bones. before the dance/current series. Just writing some of the happy parts before I sink into the angst of the beginning. Helaena is hunting for info about Sothoryos in the great keep library while Aemond spies on them. word count -- ~1.2k main story -- OC Lynora & Helaena/Other Characters & Lannisters notes -- barely edited // In GOT lore, the Septa's teach young girls to read, but that's not fun because now we get to have learning to read scenes T.T Also, Lyn being illiterate keeps her more trapped in the world

King Viserys would often speak of Aegon as reminding him of his own lady mother, Princess Alyssa Targaryen. The king spoke of his mother with pride, she was a fierce woman, who always did as she pleased. When his father spoke of Princess Alyssa’s famous sexual appetite to rival Aegon’s, Aemond would pretend he was flying far above the city, away from his family speaking of such things.

When it was time to speak of him, the King would note that Aemond reminded him of the Queen, and that Aemond should be proud of that. That did not fill the empty hole. 

Queen Alicent saw herself in Daeron, giving him the childhood of her dreams back in Hightower. Helaena was the queen’s only daughter, which is why she is so doting and protective of the princess, whether she wanted the attention or not. 

The Queen sees nothing in Aemond, nought but broken futures of a scholarly, knight of the realm. His mother was a wise woman, and must have good reasonings when she looked detached at Aemond after the accident. 

His mother was untrusting of outsiders, so Aemond could not guess her game with this new attention to court.

The prince had followed his sister and her new lady-in-waiting to the library of the Red Keep. He had known of Helaena to wonder the mazes of tomes and scrolls, humming to herself with a gentle whisper. The maesters watched her from across the hall, watching amongst themselves. No other unaccompanied woman was allowed within their sacred walls, the maesters only allowed the single Helaena in the main hall. Now, it seems, the attention of a pious lady allowed them both passage into restricted sections, long hidden from the princess. 

In the past, Helaena’s ladies forced her around the keep, the princess’s feet dragging paces behind the ladies’ closely fortified wall of linked arms. They had all hailed from the Stormlands, a great honor bestowed by the crown. Jena Estermount, the eldest daughter to the second richest house in the region who openly mocked the gods, Arianna Tarth, a half-dornish girl, and Corenna Storm, a noble bastard of House Baratheon.

As they wafted through the walls of the Keep, Aemond thought it plain to see that the princess’s ladies were not interested in the princess at all. Helaena did not seem at all bothered when the Queen dismissed the group of catty ladies from court after she discovered them mocking the princess behind her back. Queen Alicent distrusted each girl for their own glaring flaw, and only had the prejudices enforced through the girls’ actions.

In reality, Helaena had not minded the names they called her. Some of the names were quite clever. One of the girls, the bastard, had called her “Batty.” Helaena had never given much thoughts to bats before that name, and since has discovered she finds them fascinating. A new lady was brought to Helaena to entertain the princess, though Helaena sometimes felt like she was playing nursemaid to the poor creature. 

“You should really learn to read,” Helaena offered, watching Lynora study the spines of books as the princess searched.. 

“Could you teach me? Lynora asked, wondering how many books had illustrations to pass the time. 

“Oh,” Helaena paused. “No, I don’t think I could. I know nought where to start.” 

Aemond had to stifle a laugh from his hiding place, tucked away behind a precarious stack of scrolls. 

“I could fetch you a mother? I’m sure there is a family that employee a governess,” Helaena did not understand why Lynora instantly laughed at her suggestion, but her laugher made Helaena smile.

“I have always been in want of a mother. The Mother Superior was far too busy to teach me how to read,” Lynora said. The Maidenhouse was far more interested in skills that could keep their girls alive, or at least that was what the septas claimed.  “I could weave you a basket with my eyes shut,” Lynora reminded, “Just say the word and it shall be the best basket in city has ever seen.” 

Helaena smiled to mimic Lynora, removing a black bound book from the shelf. “Dreamfyre will need a traveling basket, if I am to fly across the Narrow Sea.”

The pile of scrolls pulsed as Aemond stepped a bit closer. It was the first time he had heard his sister speak of traveling across the world. From their time touring the realm in their youth, Aemond had assumed Helaena hated anywhere that wasn’t home. 

Helaena had already moved on, reading aloud to Lynora the story of Jaenara Belaerys, of Old Valyria, and her dragon Terrax. The pair traveled the continent of Sothoryos for three years, before returning home to tell the tale of the land with no end. 

“Why do all the names sound the same? I can not keep them straight,” Lynora complained until Helaena offered her a book of pictures, which she gladly accepted, dropping to the stone floor, sitting directly on the ground, with no care to the beautiful gown she had been laced into. 

Now, it was time for Helaena to laugh, as she slowly crouched to join her. “They all sound similar because they are in a different language, with different speaking customers.” 

“And you can understand it?” Lynora asked, turning her book upside down in an attempt to decipher an illustration of two dragons intertwined. 

Helaena simply answered by reading aloud the passage the original High Valerian, she had been translating from.

“You can read twice? Two separate ways? How is that possible.” Lynora asked, her mind racing before she could ask another question. She felt so stupid not thinking it possible before, she had heard the half-language of the Mountain Tribes of the Vale, surely there were even more languages beyond that.

“You will learn,” Helaena placed her hand on Lynora’s. “I shall have a dragon dream to prove it. I have a feeling.” 

Both girls laughed.

Aemond had to remind himself to stay hidden, unable to believe in his sister’s change in behaviors. She had never allowed the touch of other ladies, he assumed she even dismissed her maids and dressed and bathed herself. But, for an entire moment, the princess touched her lady-in-waiting’s hand in a display of friendship, if only the old guard of Stormlanders could see her now. Aemond was not sure where to put the pride for his sister hovering in the center of his chest. He simply pushed down the useless feeling.

“We shall travel the world together,” Lynora said. 

“Dreamfyre is not large enough for two,” Helaena shook her head at the idea. 

“Then I shall steal a dragon,” Lynora said, as if it were as easy as shopping in the market. “The biggest dragon of them all.” 

“That, would mean stealing Vhagar from my brother,” Helaena said, “Aemond…”

It was strange, almost as if Helaena had been calling his name.

“…do you know if the Maesters have books on Sothoryos elsewhere?” Helaean craned her neck around the edges of the stack of scrolls. 

Aemond did not move to see Lynora’s reaction, though he could hear her mouth cough out sounds of annoyance. 

“Are you spying on us?” Lynora shouted, far too loud for any library. 

Both siblings nervously shushed her.

[ssukidesu]

i guess (songfic)

Fandom: The Apothecary Diaries

Pairing: Jinmao

Rating: T

Summary: They'd known each other for years now, but Maomao still didn't understand Jinshi even a little bit. She didn't understand why he felt the way he did about her. She didn't understand why he wanted to give up all the power in the world to be with her. She didn't understand how he could sit there contentedly while she was only just starting to reciprocate with her half-mute heart.

Yeah, they've known each other for years now. And while she still isn't any closer to understanding him, he is certainly beginning to rub off on her—because she's starting to turn into someone she doesn't understand any better. (based on the song "I Guess" by Lizzy McAlpine)

Read on AO3

Chapter 1: interlude

Straighten your tie

We're not alone

I'll tell a lie just to bring you home

This was going to get... tiring.

Damn the emperor and his stupid diplomatic methods. It was bad enough with every female who was already in the capital vying for Jinshi’s attention every day; why did he have to go inviting more here for that sole purpose? Especially considering he knew Jinshi couldn’t marry any of them anyway because of his scar…

Maomao shook her head. It was probably some sort of disciplinary ploy to get back at him for that very incident. The public couldn’t know anything was amiss, after all. 

But that wasn’t her business.

At least, it shouldn’t have been.

Maomao scuffed her shoes against the floor as she made her way toward Jinshi’s chamber. She felt bad for the guy, honest—but she felt worse for herself. Being his default food taster meant that she had to be present at every meal, even and especially those in which the female attendees fought to get as much of his attention as possible. The very errand she was on now was to deliver a letter to him from some unmemorable woman who had the audacity to invite him for evening company. The woman had handed her the sealed envelope with a half-measure of both passive disgust and delusional giddiness. Poor woman.

No—poor Maomao.

She knocked four times when she reached his door. He hadn’t been in there long—he’d only left the dining room about ten minutes before her—but she was in no position to barge in. About five seconds later, he cracked the door just enough to peer out at her. His one visible violet eye immediately softened upon recognizing her, and he revealed the rest of his clearly exhausted face by opening the door all the way to let her in.

“What’s the matter?” he asked as she walked past. He shut the door behind her.

Maomao would have gotten right to business, but her attention was immediately grabbed by an open book on his paper-infested desk. 

“Were you reading?” she asked absently, approaching to inspect closer.

“Nosy tonight, are you?” he observed. She heard his steps approaching behind her.

Her eyes were trained on an illustration. It was of some sort of tree, one she didn’t recognize. “Are you studying botany for fun in your free time now?”

He scoffed. “As if I had any.” Now at her side, he lowered his finger to the page and traced the ink. “I’m researching trees to learn which would be the most sustainable to cultivate for paper. If we’re going to increase production to incentivize literacy, I figure not all trees are made equal. There are the few variants we use in our country, but it never hurts to do research on what other places use.”

“I see,” she hummed. “And here I thought you’d be daydreaming of all the lovely ladies you had the honor of meeting tonight.”

His lip curled at her sarcasm. “I don’t understand what he wants to achieve with this. He knows I can’t marry any of them." Jinshi's pout spread beyond his mouth and into his voice. "If it’s all for show, he should make it a comedic one, at least.”

“Oh? And how would he do that?” She was getting worse day by day at stomping out her curiosities with him. She knew it was better to be curt, to say only what needed to be said, but sometimes she spoke without thinking and just… said what she was thinking.

Jinshi plopped onto the foot of his bed and unceremoniously kicked off his shoes. He brought his hand to loosen the neck of his robe, which had been clipped with some kind of royal brooch. He cracked his neck, once on each side, and leaned back on his hands. He pouted, “It’d be so easy. Just tell them all I only like women who wear green, or women who only breathe through their mouths.”

Maomao couldn’t help giggling at the image. Jinshi latched onto the sound right away and leaned forward to meet her gaze. He motioned for her to sit on the cushion beside the bed, so she did. He continued, “That’s all I was thinking about, that whole time. What I could send through the grapevine to give me something to laugh about. I thought about telling them I preferred when women wore entirely black makeup and styled their hair in novel ways.”

“That would be cruel, sir,” she said evenly with a moderate amount of genuineness. 

“It would.” Jinshi leaned back on his hands again, but he kept his downward gaze locked to hers. “Thank you for being there for me.”

Maomao broke away to peer at her folded hands in her lap. “It’s my job.”

“Tasting my food is your job. Sitting here now, on the other hand…”

She heard the tease in his words, and she remembered all at once why she had come. She stood and poised to reach inside her robe for the letter. She watched him as she did so, and her fingers hesitated. There, laying on his bed, she felt that he looked like an entirely different person from whom the writer of this letter thought he was. He had not yet freed himself from his royal clothes, but he had loosened them where he could. She could see the top of his chest. His shoes were thrown haphazardly beside the bed, and his bare feet were stretched out, toes no doubt breathing in relief. His face, too, was no longer what it had been when they were at dinner; his smile, once practiced, was now sloppy; his posture, once perfect, was now lopsided and lax.

She liked him best like this. And perhaps not even just for selfish reasons; she liked how he looked when he was just being himself—not the prince with a name she dared not use, but Jinshi, the man who had managed to become her friend.

The word echoed in her head. Had she ever used it so flippantly in her mind before? Why did it feel like she was doing something wrong by saying so? By all objective measures, it was not inaccurate.

She hated the constant bags beneath his eyes, the dull pallor of his cheeks. Maomao knew she cared for his well-being, and had for a long time now. How could she not?

Hands having frozen in the air, Maomao moved to crack her knuckles, as if that had been her intention for lifting her hands from the start. He wouldn’t answer the letter, anyway; why should she waste his time with it? He should go ahead and get to sleep. 

She wouldn’t give it to him. At least, not tonight—not when a mere knock on the door, which even her ears were passively anticipating at all times, could choke out every ounce of relief he currently felt. Just a knock, and his mask would instantly return. His clothes would immediately be refastened. His tired feet would immediately adopt the burden of his body weight. She hoped silently to herself that no visitors would come to him tonight, welcome or otherwise. She thought about leaving a note on his door requesting as much.

His warm voice breached the air. “You won’t speak?”

Her eyes lifted to his. She’d been staring at his exposed clavicle. “Huh?”

“We were talking about your job, and what you do and don’t get paid for.”

“Ah. Are you offering to pay me for my babysitting you at night?”

“You’re forgetting already that you’re the one who came to me, presumably for no particular reason at all.” He was smiling still, but Maomao noted that it was now certainly not the polished smile of a palace prince. It still looked beautiful on his face, of course, but it was a smile she’d often seen on the faces of sparring soldiers or gambling drunks. 

“It wasn’t for no reason,” Maomao snapped, but she couldn’t come up with a secondary excuse quick enough to escape his doubt. When her lie finally came, he was ready to recognize it as one. 

“There are about a hundred additional people in the palace who want to become your partner. I figured I’d make sure you got to your room safely.”

Jinshi fell onto his back with a thump. “Maomao is my protector, then? What would you have done, if indeed you had found me compromised?”

Luckily he was no longer looking at her—he didn’t see her face turn pink. Her words tumbled out quickly. “I’d toss you a tonic and get the hell out.”

He laughed once. “How rude. I’m still young enough to not need a tonic.”

“That so?” she teased, grateful for the opportunity for offense. “I figured your years of taking a eunuch philter would make you inept forever.”

His voice lowered, and he brought his arm up to cover his eyes. “Bold of you to say something like that when you’ve come alone and unbidden to my bedroom.” 

Under normal circumstances, Maomao would seek adamantly for a topic change. But just before she could corral them elsewhere, an image from earlier that night inexplicably invaded her mind: her master the moon prince, at his banquet table, bearing the weight of dozens of fawning eyes at any given time, cheeks fixed in a smile, eyes both politely flicking between guests and secretly glazing over, his chopsticks picking at his otherwise untouched entree. To the untrained and unfamiliar eye, he was near angelic; but to Maomao—who had been sitting adjacent to him behind a few rows of guest tables, close enough to see him clearly but far enough to not hear any of his spoken words—he was hanging by a thread. The few times she rose to deliver his plates after confirming their safety, he eyes would land on her, and he would let his smile slip ever so slightly. She knew it was not because he was unhappy to see her; rather, it was because, out of all the other people in the room, she was the only one who didn’t require it of him. At her final delivery, a fruit tart dessert, when their eyes met and his lips loosened, something within her wished to give him comfort. Without thinking, she felt her own lips curl upward, and she smiled softly at him. His eyes widened slightly at the sight, and from then on till the end of the banquet, she noted that he seemed a bit more energetic.

Kind of like how he seemed right now.

“I meant no offense. I only wanted to tease you a little,” she said finally.

Jinshi sat up again and shuffled so that his butt was on the edge of the bed. This brought him close enough to reach out to her, and he did so. After a second of hesitation and a skeptical look, she accepted his outstretched hand. He tugged her forward until he could wrap his arms around her waist. Looking up at her, as she was about a head taller than him, he sucked in a deep breath and sighed.

“Tease me more,” he grunted. 

Maomao raised a brow. “How can I be so heartless as to tease someone so pitiful?”

“Yes, like that. More.”

She smirked despite herself. “If only one of those ladies knew what a masochist you are. All she’d have to do is slap you in the face and you’d become her slave.”

“Only if the slap was followed by a kiss.”

Touché, she thought.

And then, just as she opened her mouth to retort, the moment they both had dreaded came: another human being, an outsider from this safe bubble of theirs, rapped their knuckles on his door.

“Moon Prince?” the voice said, muffled by the door. It was Basen. “Someone has requested a word.”

Maomao had been watching Jinshi’s face, not noticing how her own fingers clutched at the fabric of his shoulders when his arms tightened around her frame. His eyelids had fallen closed; his brow furrowed. They both were thinking the same thing: if it was someone Basen could not dismiss for the night’s late hour, then it meant it was a very high ranking guest, or a servant thereof. He would have to answer.

“One moment,” he said with a mostly collected voice. 

He loosened his arms from her body and began to resituate his robe. Maomao’s own fingers came to the unclasped brooch, and she refastened it while he gathered his hair to be repinned. His shoes were near enough that he could drag them close with his feet, and he slipped them back on.

Unthinking, Maomao remained close to him despite no longer being in his grip. When he was altogether the Moon Prince again, at least outwardly, he met her eyes. He seemed to find something there, but before she could ponder about what it was, he stood, caressed her face with a single hand, and brought his lips to her cheek. 

Then, he was gone, walking to the door. As he opened it, Maomao did her best to look as if she belonged but also didn’t belong, as a servant would.

She heard Basen’s voice introduce someone, but her mind did not accept the sounds as articulate words. Whatever occurred in the conversation, it resulted in Jinshi leaving the room. 

She returned to her own, knowing she would not see him again until morning.

[kyouka-supremacy]

ooh how about Yosano for the ask game?

Yay Yosano!!! I love her so much <33

Favorite thing about them: Her backstory,,, It's just a masterpiece, for me it's really the peak of bsd's writing. “We don't want your skill. We want that kindness of yours” and “You don't need a skill at all. There's real value in your sadness.” ueueueueueueue. In two chapters it made of a relatively flat character a complex and human one, and we love to see that.

Least favorite thing about them: Nothing, she's great??? I can't think of anything.

Favorite line: There's no line that hits me in particular I can think of, but I really like the emotion / delivery of some of them. This one I like tons:

brOTP: Aaaaahhh I love her I want to see her interact with everyone. Older-sister kind of characters are ALWAYS my favourite. I love her dynamics with Ranpo and I like to think they have this sort of sibling complicity of two people who have known each other for a very long time and love each other deeply. I like her relationship with Fukuzawa, I like how explicitly protective he is of her, I'm glad she has someone she can trust who looks after her and makes her feel loved. (Actually, the Yosano / Fukuzawa relationship makes me emotional. Because Yosano was so deeply traumatized and broken and basically dead when he took her under his wing, and she looks so healthy and confident and serene in the canon timeline, it's basically a miracle; and the only way this could have happened is by having someone who deeply loved and cared for her, someone who kindly guided her through every step of rehabilitation. It moves me a little). I really enjoyed her interactions with Atsushi!! And I like to think Yosano and Kyouka would hang out, I feel like Yosano would be happy to sort of return the favour and help back a little girl who was able to slip out of the darkness just in time; I can see them have this kind of inter generational relationship where they go shopping together and chat about girl things.

OTP: I really like kousano!!! I feel like Yosano deserves her spicy pm love affair too ahah. I think it's got lots of potential for both fluff and angst, and I believe it's a cool relationship to explore for both characters!! I wish they'd meet in canon. When I first watched the anime I was low-key into ranposano, and though I don't feel very strongly about them anymore, I think it's a nice ship nonetheless!

nOTP: Nothing. Really I don't dislike ships pffttt.

Random headcanon: Something I don't think I ever brought up but that I firmly believe in is that whereas all the other ada members live at the ada dorms, Yosano, Ranpo and Fukuzawa have their own house where they live together. Fukuzawa took Ranpo to his home when he adopted him, and then Yosano joined them when they took her in because I mean, there was no way that they could leave her alone, right? So they've always lived together, and they are happy together, they never felt the need to change that. That's the real ada found family for me if there ever was one. Really like deconstructing the idea of nuclear family or of the fact that children can't live with their parents as adults while still being independent. Also it just makes sense? And it's heartwarming to think that Fukuzawa, the lone wolf with no friends of relations, now lives in a happy and lively household.

Unpopular opinion: Yosano existing isn't enough to beat the bsd being sexist allegations, I'm so sorry everyone I wish that was the case.

Song i associate with them: Kilmer by Niru Kajitsu, I just wish I didn't (个_个) There's even a beautiful fanart of Yosano in the style of the Kilmer pv here. Also Fräulein=Biblioteca by nyanyannya, just based on vibes alone (the purple butterflies!!), to mention something a little less depressing lol.

Favorite picture of them:

Favourite panel from the manga:

(Took me like. One hour to pick just one. She's always stunning in Harukawa's art style.)

Favourite illustration:

Favourite illustration in the anime art style:

Favourite Mayoi card:

Send me a character?

[jiliansky-blog]

The Labyrinth of Dreams. Chapter 1. King of goblins

Pairing: Morpheus x FemaleReader

Rating: PG

Words: 1480

Summary: The idea of crossover came to me after a few arts and rewatching Labyrinth (1986). Jareth is a nightmare and while Morpheus was captured, he escaped to reality. And he wants to take down Morpheus. Elisabeth is a daughter of Sarah and want to find Labyrinth. And Jareth wants to use her against Morpheus. But something went wrong...

I was looking into a crystal with irritation. Morpheus was back. And now my time as a real thing was gone. While he was away, I could live whatever I liked. Outside the labyrinth. Not exist only in girls' dreams of escape. Now he will lock me up in the labyrinth again. But this time I won’t make it easy for him. I have my own little nightmare kingdom to rule. And maybe, I can make Morpheus pay for everything. I just need to find someone who helps me.

And I knew who could. The daughter of my precious Sarah. She was eighteen years old already. And she looks like just her mother. Maybe, she will be more agreeable than her mother. And I also can send “hello” to Sarah as well. Elisabeth, her name, is such a dreamer. Just like her mother again. She wants to have a fantasy dream and I will give it to her. And I know that Morpheus will be charmed by her. And do everything, especially if he thinks that she is my prisoner.

Elisabeth “Mom, when I can get into this world of yours?” I asked, looking through the books. My mother actually wrote her own story about the Labyrinth and illustrated it herself. She wanted once to be an actress just like her mother, my grandmother, who I’ve never known. But her wish disappeared after the Labyrinth and the school play. And she wanted to be the children's writer and illustrator. I couldn’t blame her for this. I’ve grown up on her books and stories. “How I can get here?” I asked.

“I think, you already forgot about it”, she said. “I didn’t tell you the story for a long time. And you are grown up already”. “Anyway”, I said. “I'm still interested in this”, I said. “You shouldn’t wish for this”, she said firmly. “I said foolishly once about taking my stepbrother. And he took him. He can listen to you too”. “Well, you can make him go away, so can I”, I smiled. “Oh, Beth”, she sighed. “There is nothing for you there. He is not a charming prince. He is cruel and can steal you away”. “I don’t want to be with him”, I assured her. “I just want to see his world myself”.

“Why?” she asked. “It’s not beautiful. You can’t even find the way out”. “If you can find the way, I can find the way too”, I denied. “Perhaps, I can even meet your old friends. It would be…” “No!” This time her voice was sharp. “You need to know, I made this all up. Because I was lonely after my mother’s death and felt like Cinderella”. “What?” I asked surprised. “I didn’t want to upset you”, she sighed again. “It was just a story. And I want you to move on and live an ordinary life”.

“Then why do you make me believe in this story all this time?” I asked, not quite believing her this time. It was too sudden. “You need to understand, Elisabeth”, mother said. “Your belief in magic is charming, but you need…you don’t need to prevent it from living your real life”. “I can’t believe”, I said and stepped back. “And I don’t know what is worse. The you could lie to me, or you to break everything I believe in”.

“Beth…”, she said softly. “Because of course all the conversations that grandpa made with you help you grow up, don’t?” I asked and went to the door. “Beth, come back!” she called. “I’m not Beth!” I replied. “I’m Elisa”. And I angrily leave my parent’s house.

Morpheus “We have a problem, my lord”, said Lucienne, when I was trying to create a new dream.

“What else, Lucienne?” I looked at her. “It's Jareth, my lord”, she said. “He returned to the Labyrinth”. “And why this is a problem?” I asked. “He supposed to stay there”. “Yes, I know, but while you were away he escaped and had affairs with the human woman”, she said. “And now some of the nightmares gathered there”. “They gathered in the Labyrinth?” I asked. “Why?” “I think he is up to something”, the librarian said. “He may not be as obvious as Corinthian and may more be subtle”. “Corinthian tried to communicate to Vortex”, I said. “It wasn’t subtle”. “Anyway”, she answered. “I would suggest looking after him”. “I will, Lucienne”, I nodded. “Thank you for telling me”.

She nodded also and left. And I sighed. Another rebellion Nightmare. He should provide a sweet escape for lost girls. And now what does he want? I dissolved a new dream because I couldn’t concentrate on my work anymore. I need to check him and see myself. Jareth wasn’t surprised to see me in his castle when I appeared. He was sitting on his improvised throne and smirking. “What’s so funny?” I asked. “I was just thinking, when you will pay me the visit”, he replied. “Don’t you try to go through the labyrinth? It would be so much fun”. “I know all your tricks, king of goblins”, I said. “And I don’t need to go through your labyrinth for this is my kingdom. And you are still my subject”.

“And you come all this way to remind me of this, my lord?” he asked sarcastically. “I almost forgot, while you were…gone”. “I’m here now”, I admitted. “And I heard that in your castle some nightmares found the shelter. Why?” “You told it yourself, lord Morpheus”, he smirked. “They want a shelter. They want a leader. At least, while you were gone”. “I hope, you won’t be foolish enough to make a stupid decision”, I said coldly. “Like make a rebellion. I’m still king of dreams and nightmares”. “Of course, you are”, he said. “I don’t want to repeat the fate of Corinthian”. “Good”, I nodded and went back to the castle.

Jareth Morpheus getting suspicious, but it doesn’t change anything. He won’t see what’s coming. And as far as I can see, little Elisabeth has a fight with Sarah. Just like her mother did before she went to the Labyrinth. Perfect time to interfere.

Elisabeth I can’t believe she told me that. She made me believe that everything in Labyrinth happened in real. And now she told me it was a lie. It just doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t matter. I will find a way to prove that everything is real. I will bring something from that place. Mother not only gifted me her book, but her copy of the original book. It was another story of the princess Sarah, who got into the Labyrinth. And she also faced Jareth, the Goblin king. So if my mother could get there, then another girl was there too. And she probably left too and took the child that Jareth had stolen. I didn’t know what I would do in their place. Perhaps, I would stay and can turn this unwelcome and hostile labyrinth into something else. Something far more beautiful. And with these thoughts, I fell asleep. Some noise wakes me up. And when I opened my eyes and turned on the light I saw that the window was open. It was strange. When I closed it, I sensed someone’s presence in the room. And turned around slowly.

“Hello, Elisabeth”, the stranger said. It was a man tall man in dark sparkly clothes. His hair was messy and white. Eyes were grey and cold. He wasn’t handsome but was charming. “It is you”, I said. “You're the Goblin king, aren’t you?”

“Yes”, he smirked. “My name is Jareth”. “I didn’t call you to steal some of my family”, I admitted. “But you were thinking about me”, he smiled. “Sarah…Your mother told you about me. She told a story about it”. “Yes”, I nodded. “What do you want then? An act of revenge?” “I want to make you my queen”, he smiled. “I know what you dream about. Adventures, love, to have an interesting life in another world”. “Is that some sort of trick?” I asked. “No, I can give you all of that”, Jareth said. “And in return, you will help me with something. To defeat someone who can threaten our life”.

«Our life?” I asked, confused. “Yes”, he nodded. “You will be the queen of my kingdom. You can rearrange it however you want. What do you say?” It was a temptation. But my mother’s voice echoed through my head. She said don’t call for Jareth. And here he is. Anyway. And I always want to find the Labyrinth. And that’s it. My chance. “I agree”, I said. “Good”, he smiled. “You look like your mother. But you are not like her at the same time. Then come with me, future queen of mine”. He gave me a hand and I took it. That was the adventure I was waiting for.

@shadowqueen1318 @mypsychoticlove @justathirstyhoe​ @ladymoztaza

[saiyanmazen]

Rest

Another tiny ficlet for today. This one is heavily inspired by this art by @310knt (who's sadly no longer possible to find). Also this illustration by @ukyryo. Go check it out, just know that it hurts.

This ficlet also uses the prompt Rest from day 6 of the @vegebulocracy D&D event. Can also be read here on AO3.

Be warned: I cried while writing this which I've never done before. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

--------------

If only he had gone to hell. Surely that would have been less painful than this.

He watches her day in and day out. Taking care of their son. Fleeing the androids. Helping survivors. Desperately inventing something to change the past and hopefully their future.

Night and day he watches her. She rarely rests; there is no time for rest, she mutters to herself late at night.

He wants to tell her to rest.

In the beginning, he tried to contact her constantly, yelling and screaming in a fruitless attempt to reach her. But he never did and he knows never will.

He understood immediately that he was dead. His body was out there for days, along with the other killed warriors. Only Gohan survived as far as Vegeta is aware, but he is just a boy who recently lost his father to an unexpected disease.

Bulma buried their bodies after a few days when the androids traveled to another part of the planet. She cried silent tears as she dug, careful not to wake the sleeping toddler she had been forced to bring along with her. There was no one else to take care of him and the small boy needed his mother. He could likely feel the sudden decrease in ki around him and it made him uneasy.

Vegeta is there when his son takes his first steps and when he says his first word: safety. He knows that these are moments he would have missed if he had still been alive. He would've been busy destroying the androids or training. If anything good has come from his cruel fate, it is that he gets to experience his son growing up.

But mostly, it is torture. It is torture to see his son, but never being able to talk to him or spar with him. Trunks is strong, more than Bulma or he himself knows, and he has inherited his mother's intelligence. Vegeta is beyond proud of him, a feeling he wants to share. With her.

There is so much he wants to say to her, so many times he is desperate to hold her. But all he can do is watch. He can go everywhere on this blasted planet in this purgatorial plane of existence he is caught in, but there is nowhere else he wants ho be. His place is with her.

He longs to touch her, just one last time. At least to provide her a little comfort. During the late nights where she cries herself to sleep, he tries to lay his hand on her cheek and caress it. He can't feel it, but he hopes that she can. He whispers comforting words in her ear and he likes to imagine that her sleep is a little more peaceful because of it. And he lets his lips hover over hers, trying to remember how her kiss felt.

If he had known that there was a fate worse than hell… no, he can't pretend that he would've acted any different during his time under Frieza’s thumb. But he would have cherished his time with Bulma more and given in to his yearning for her a lot sooner. He would've told her how magnificent she is and that he loves her.

It is too late. All he can hope for now is that she will find some rest. Maybe then he will be able to do the same.

[felassan]

its that time again! 🍵 

Thoughts/wonderings on Dragon Age: The Missing #4, under a cut due to spoilers for The Missing -

I'm probably becoming a lil unhealthily obsessed with this building. what do we think it is? the Archon's Palace is the highest building in Minrathous (tho I guess not, as it has sewers and this is floating). A Circle? it has a similar shape to the logo for the Circle of Magi. the meeting place for the Magisterium senate, lording over everyone below from high above? whatever it is it looks cool and it must be important to be featured on the map. I wanna go there (๑*ᗜ*)

I love Neve Gallus' design. it's fresh and cool, and she just looks so cute and neat okay. also full of detail - the snake pattern on the headpiece, shoulder 'scales' and scales elsewhere, collar & jacket like one of those hooded snakes, snake-'tailcapped' footwear (rather than steel toe-capped), the serpent belt and of course most of all the beautiful snake design of her prosthetic limb. 10/10 character/costume design

this page had me on my knees basically. my heart.

surely this panel is a new meme format hh? same goes for the one where Varric is saying "Then perhaps all this is linked" and Harding says "And we've led them here"

you walked into the wrong neighborhood bro

I also liked this pair of illustrations, they had a nice 'bookend' feel and reminded me a lot of Lord of the Rings.

Other thoughts:

Minrathous looks kinda cyberpunk and (despite what Harding says in the opening panels) feels quite clean in this comic

Is that the person tailing them lurking in the doorway that Harding is catching sight of here?

These holes in Varric's ear seem to be new. What happened? Injury from the leopard attack?

confused a bit by the perspective flip in this issue. In issue 1, Varric was more like 'stop', and Harding was more like 'talk to him'. it's flipped around a bit here.

Varric smiled when he thought about Neve and then lit up when he saw her. she calls him an "old friend". I wonder how they met and how long they've known each other. something to do with varric's spy network?

This panel felt a bit meta hh.

When Neve says "Your friend is quite intense" is she referring to Solas or Harding?

Then we come to the two main things we learn in this issue:

We learn that Solas has been in Minrathous causing trouble. He's been attacking Venatori locations in the city, stealing artifacts from them and freeing elven slaves in the process, which has greatly angered the Venatori. The Venatori now want revenge and a "bunch of rebellious elves" are "causing trouble throughout the city, presumably in the name of the one who freed them". I wonder if the artifacts weaken the Veil, are connected to the idol somehow, or are simply sources of great power that Solas either needs for himself/his plans or that he simply thinks should be taken away from the Venatori so that they don't cause harm using them? Tevinter Nights showed agents of Fen'Harel seeking artifacts and referenced rumors of elven artifacts that strengthen the Veil, like the ones from DA:I. freeing folks also makes sense, "I am not a monster" and it's something he has a history of doing

In this issue we also learn that Neve works with a group called the Shadow Dragons, who have been trying to help the former slaves. indeed they're trying to help anyone who is held as slaves in Minrathous. this is our first time hearing about this new group. they make it their business to help those in need and Neve makes it her business to help them. I'm a bit ¿ about their name, just due to how it sounds, but it's exciting to learn about a new group/faction. Each issue of this DA:D prequel comic has shone a spotlight on a faction - Grey Wardens, Antivan Crows, the Veil Jumpers and the Shadow Dragons. two new, two old. it's a nice balance. and it brings to mind the common fan theory/speculation about the PC of DA:D having a different faction background depending on the player's choice. at the very least it feels like a way of saying 'these four groups [or characters from them] will feature in a significant way/be 'players on the board' in DA:D".

thinking about the Shadow Dragons' name in an in-world context, like thinking about why they may have chosen their name: dragons are emblematic of Tevinter. dragon imagery is everywhere there, dragons are a symbol of power and Tevinter heraldry shows a dragon. the Tevinter Imperium is a 'dragon', or several (metaphorically) - Magisters, ruling over the classes below. the "shadow dragons" feel like "the other side" of Tevinter, the side in shadow, the underside, the 'anti-Tevinter'. I'd guess that they are the "Tevinter you forgot", i.e. the Viper's faction. (and if you look at Tevinter heraldry, there is also a snake 'in opposition' to the dragon.) before Missing #4 I wondered if “the Tevinter you forgot” "means they are a group of folks who have fallen through the cracks in Tevinter society or who are the downtrodden in Tevinter society. is it some sort of uprising or anti-Magisterium movement?" - here we learn they're trying to help people Tevinter 'forgot' like slaves and former slaves. I also commented "from the story it sounds like the dark-clad card dealer is the Viper. the magister in the story is afraid of him and tries to claim that the Viper is just a tale, implying that the Viper’s name has become known as a sort of shadowy, stealthy urban legend in Minrathous and that it has a sort of bogeyman effect on magisters." Shadow indeed. Neve later comments that the Shadow Dragons are trying to "help anyone held as slaves in Minrathous". I think it was in the Dorian short story in Tevinter Nights that there's a reference to how there's now an anti-slavery movement in Tevinter. Is that the Shadow Dragons? you can see possible echoes of "the Tevinter you forgot" in later comic dialogue "The Shadow Dragons have vowed to help us restore our dignity. To get back the lives that were stolen from us by the Venatori. To make sure we don't have to scrabble in the dirt for food and warm", imo.

I wonder if Dorian, Mae and the Lucerni know anything about the Shadow Dragons? maybe they've done some work together?

and while the Viper/Viper's faction/the Shadow Dragons themselves didn't appear in issue 4, issue 4 still highlighted them, continuing the pattern I speculated about, of the DA Day short stories (Evka/Antoine/Wardens, Teia/Viago/Crows, Strife/Irelin/Veil Jumpers and Viper's faction/Shadow Dragons), one from each of those short stories per issue.

Varric is still having a bad time. also he was born in 9:1, and so if DA:D is set in 9:52, he's now over 50. from these comics, he's feeling old and tired. I don't expect that he'll be a companion in DA:D. more like an advisor (off-field), a contact or quest-giver, or the person that recruits us.

"But why? What did he get out of it? Surely, he wanted something in return" was an interesting line. because like on one hand "I am not a monster", he has a history of freeing people who were enslaved and he's shown as valuing freedom and not enjoying needless suffering. setting people free definitely is the only decent thing. but he's also smart and does things with purpose, always playing 4-D chess, and has been outwitting Varric and Harding at every turn throughout these comic issues, always one step ahead. it seems like a 'it's both' situation. like two birds, one stone. he would free people and it's the right thing to do, and he also gains from it strategically. Varric lampshades this in the final page: and it's three stones, actually. Solas freed people, dealt with the Venatori on his tail and slowed Varric/Harding down long enough to escape all in one move.

Also, at first I wondered if the brown-haired elf was sort've projecting his own perceptions on Solas (with the "his kin" lines). but look here. the leader of these Venatori has a pouch round their neck. the others don't, it's prominently placed and it's consistent on this Venatori in every panel they're in here. and where have we seen that before? around the neck of the Venatori stalker that saved Varric from the leopard in Issue 3. I think we're supposed to conclude that the ringleader of the Venatori that attack the elves in this issue is the Venatori person that's been tailing Varric and Harding all throughout these comic issues. the Venatori ringleader seems to recognize Varric in a later panel, with the "You!". They fight and Varric starts demanding answers from the Venatori leader. but then, just as he's about to get answers, the brown-haired elf intervenes and kills them at that very moment. they won't hurt their people anymore, and conveniently also (more than one purpose to things again..), now Varric and Harding won't get any answers. and also this:

another - not two, but - three stones. when the brown-haired elf kills the Venatori ringleader, A) preventing them from further harming his people and B) preventing them from giving any answers to Varric and Harding, C) the killing blow also cuts that pouch from their neck. a very specific thing to depict. presumably in the chaos of the Venatori leader's death (you can't see the elf's hands in the very next panel) the brown-haired elf has grabbed the pouch, and part of his goal all along was to take it. I think we're supposed to conclude that the pouch contained the crucious stone and that the brown-haired elf works for Solas. so the "You're too late, I already have the crucious stone" letter from issue 3 was a Solas fakeout, the Venatori at that point in time did in fact have the stone (having beaten Solas to the vault, and as-shown by the Venatori who saved Varric from the leopard having the pouch around their neck), and the events of issue 4 were part of Solas' plan to steal it/steal it back from them (and going by Neve's earlier dialogue, it's not the first artifact he's stolen from them). so two things here: one, Solas' 'three stones' are actually-actually four (free the slaves, deal with the Venatori on his tail, delay Varric/Harding long enough to escape, and steal the crucious stone artifact from the Venatori [my head hurts]). and two, the brown-haired elf was working for Solas after all. he'll give the pouch (and the contents, the stone) to Solas, "he set us, his kin, free" wasn't projection considering that he does work for him, and him being there in the alleyway when he was, with the information that he had, was part of Solas' plan to escape and get the stone. otherwise, it's pretty convenient that one of the former slaves at the place Neve's aware of where former slaves have been eating scraps, at the time when she takes Varric/Harding there, just happened to have helpful info about the meeting that Varric/Harding needed and also happened to kill the Venatori leader and in the process cut the pouch from their neck. idk if it means all the elves here were working for Solas or just the brownhaired one or the brownhaired one & the blond one, but yea. definitely the brownhaired elf is I think.

Neve fighting was cool: staff-less magic and then as a mage using a dagger or shortsword.

party combo-kill! ice spell + finishing blow - a comic depiction of Shattering :)

Brown-haired elf missing his elven ear here.

A cool panel. Also, you can't see his other hand..

just really liked these two panels :) also, they missed their chance, they missed this chance, in this, a comic called The Missing... is that why it's called that?

[clenches fist] vowing to protect Neve and her good heart at all costs

and he stole the crucious stone artifact from the Venatori.

I am not sure that I agree with the premise of this article that BioWare retweeted, that The Missing is required reading before DA:D. I enjoyed issues 2 & 3 a lot! I was hoping for a bit more from the end of issue 4, perhaps a small Solas appearance like at the end of Dark Fortress or just a bit more insight into his plans or things in/the setup for DA:D. finishing on the Dread Wolf mural from the DA:D TGA 2020 trailer as a reminder was neat but the highlight reveal from these comics as a whole was definitely the new mural depicted in issue 3.

"He knows us too well, we need to find/use people he doesn't know" is the same conclusion that was reached at the end of Trespasser (and Harding was present for that conversation). I guess the meta irl reasons for The Missing are: A] since it'll be almost 10 years irl between games, to refresh folks about that conclusion and the fact that it will be a new PC and why it has to be 'someone he doesn't know', since most new players to the franchise at DA:D aren't going to buy years old DA:I and DLC and play til it the end of Trespasser B] fill some irl time C] do some marketing/advertizing and D] highlight these four groups/factions and introduce the two new ones (Veil Jumpers and Shadow Dragons) in advance of DA:D, and possibly highlight these specific characters (Strife, Teia, Evka etc) the same way (though I speculate those characters are more like DA:D 'contact' cameos rather than that they will be companions themselves). Certainly if I was Varric at the moment when Harding asks "So who are you thinking?" at the end here, after the events I had experienced and people & groups I had met in recent weeks, with those being fresh in my mind, I would be thinking about the Grey Wardens, the Antivan Crows, the Veil Jumpers and the Shadow Dragons, both as groups and terms of the mental list of people that I had recently met who Solas doesn't know. again it makes you think about the popular speculation that the DA:D PC will have the background of being from one of these groups. also, those 4 groups aren't ones which were referenced in Tevinter Nights as keeping an eye on Solas/as Solas having some info on them in turn (unlike some other groups like the Mortalitasi, the Executors, the Ben-Hassrath etc).

[tetsunabouquet]

When Eyes Meet (Aomine Daiki)

A/N: Hello. Hereby my first Aomine Daiki story. I’m fairly certain this one is especially too long for a drabble, and it’s supposed to be a 1 part thing for sure so I suppose this should be better classified as a one-shot. My first official one. Yay. Basic Instinct part 4 will be posted after my next planned headcanon. These past few weeks have been very emotionally draining, so I’m sorry for the slow posts.  The soulmate concept itself is inspired by the American comic series ElfQuest and if this one-shot gets popular enough, I’ll make one about the rest of the GOM + Light & Shadow pair.  Murasakibara - Kise - Kagami - Kuroko - Akashi - Midorima For as long as mankind could remember, they had always had two names. One used by everyone, and one more intimate, special. The name of their soul. This was a name one would only share with their parents, perhaps a sibling or a friend as close as a sibling. But as long as people could remember having soul names, they could also remember the phenomenon that was Recognition. Recognition was when two people would lock their eyes, and somehow, they'd know the other's soul name. Recognition usually led to a lifelong romance. It was, as society dubbed it, 'the moment you knew you found your soulmate.' Many people had wondered how Recognition worked. There seemed no pattern, no rule. Some people Recognized upon first glance, others did after already knowing their partner for a while. Some even had known the person they Recognized since childhood. It just happened. Being the romantic type, you had always wondered just who you would Recognise. All Recognized couples looked so happy, it seemed like there was a superior type of romance about it. It made fairy tales with their talk about true love, make a lot more sense. You hadn't found yours yet, but you hadn't given up hope at all. In fact, you were actively chasing any guy who caught your fancy, in the hope it would happen. You had currently been crushing on one guy for over a year now. Ryo Sakurai. He wasn't in your class, neither this year or the previous one, but the two of you had been the only first years back at the art club, so you hung out during club activities. And, unfortunately... "Looking nice today as usual." It resulted in THAT. You glared as you turnt around at your classmate. Daiki Aomine, a simpleton who only ever had eyes for your chest, and Ryo's teammate at the basketball club, had been assigned to your class as second years. Because of your mutual acquaintance, you had caught his interest during the first day of your new school year, and he had been oggling your chest ever since. With a huff, you sat at your seat, which was right in front of him. How you hated your life.

Classes had went by with their usual monotonous pace. Almost none of the teachers at To-Oh really had a passion for their subject, and one could tell. They droned on the subject in a way that made you wonder if they were as bored being there as their students. You couldn't wait to go to art club, and you hurried your way to the club room immediately, not noticing a bored Aomine trailing behind you. You sat at your usual seat, putting your bag down and rummaging in it to find your favourite pencil brush, when it happened. The girl next to you accidentally dropped her paint all over you and your bag. You looked up, seeing a palette with way too much green paint on it that was made thinner with water, looking almost like spinache. The culprit was Eri Nakamura, a girl who irritated you to no end. She was a 3rd year, and the only one who didn't cared about art at all. Her stepfather owned some kind of advertisement company, and because Eri was his only child, he wanted her to have the proper skills to take over in case they couldn't find her a husband with the required skillset. Because illustration and photography were elements that came to play in advertisement as well, this was one of the extra curricular activities Eri was forced to participate in. Not that it garnered any sympathy, as Eri was a lazy, spoilt liar. Eri typically used the medication she took as an excuse. She'd often claim she was too tired to finish with her art because of the influence of her meds and was excused to go home earlier every single time. All of you had believed her, until Chika, your best friend who you once had confided in about Eri's superior attitude, had spotted her after school. Eri hadn't gone home, no, she had gone shopping with her big brother. And you did not believe it was just a random time where she had been lying. Last year, when the club was having an art exhibit alongside the other schools in Tokyo, she barely lifted a finger to wrap in the art projects your class would be displaying, and instead she had been on her phone and her sole focus was sewing the school's Kanji onto your club's painting approns. It had been planned on an unfortunate day, where almost nobody could actually go. Only you and Eri were available, and Ryo showed up for a few hours but needed to leave because of the Inter High. Eri left pretty quickly after Ryo did, claiming she was 'too tired' to continue. Leaving you as the only student to assist Kiryu-Sensei and his friend from his art school days that had come in assistance for the rest of the day. It had been a lot, and Kiryu-Sensei had sent you home a half hour earlier because you were about to collapse out of exhaustion. During the next art club meeting, when Kiryu-Sensei praised your efforts, Eri had butted and pointed out she had sewn the Kanji onto the approns that no one had actually worn. That moment had cemented one truth about Eri in your mind, she was the type who'd stand by to have you do all the work and then she wanted credit and praise for the one tiny thing she did, overshadowing the actual hard workers. She also often would leave her art supplies for others to clean up. You heavily disliked her. "Eh Ryo, Wakamatsu told me to...Ow," Aomine became silent as he entered the club room, taking note of you covered by watered down green paint. The entire room was silent for a moment, until Kiryu-Sensei approached you. "L/N-san, please don't panic. Does somebody had a spare change of clothes? I think it would be best for L/N-san to take a shower before the paint in her hair will dry." You tried not to panic at the reminder. Gosh, that would take forever to get out otherwise. Aomine stood beside you in an instant, surprising you. "My friend Momoi accidentally brought her spare uniform instead of her P.E. clothes today, she'll certainly allow L/N to borrow it." You blinked at your unexpected savior as you stood up, clutching your ruined school bag. "Awe, you're so sweet Aomine." Eri's nauseating voice breathed out in a flirty manner, making it even more tempting to punch her face. "Pfft. Are you going to apologize or what?" He asked at her, annoyance lacing his tone. This encounter was surprising you more with each passing second. Eri stared at him with as much shock as you felt, and turnt around to you. "Sorry L/N." You didn't believe it to be very sincere, considering drooling over Aomine had taken her priorities. "You better buy me a new bag, and pay me back the uniform costs." You huffed and spun on your heels, walking out of the room in case she wanted to protest, which you wouldn't allow her to do. No way that bitch wasn't repaying you. Aomine followed.

Aomine's earlier words had been true, Momoi had brought her spare uniform. You rinsed your hair under the showers at the girls locker room, the fumes of your anger blending in with the steam of the hot water. All the things you wanted to say to Eri were overflowing in your mind, and the frustration that you had mutual friends which ensured that you, on occasion, were forced to hang out with that stupid cunt. Her shocked and slightly dissapointed look had been the satisfying bit about your interaction with her. HAH! You viewed yourself being above the childish, 'Aomine doesn't like youuuu!', but still, somehow, him mirroring your annoyance made you feel satisfied. But why did it felt nice to have that pervert pick your side? Why did your heart flutter when he hunted down Momoi for you? Sure, he was attractive, but he was a pervert. One who'd even pointed out you weren't that far behind on Momoi in the chest departement, and seemed of a similar build so the uniform jacket wouldn't be too ridiculously big on you. You hit him when he said that, yet your cheeks were burning at the memory as you were alone with your thoughts. He was a pervert, that was for sure, yet, for some reason, he was also the guy who seemed to defend them from harm, wether bitchy girls or other perverts who couldn't keep their hands to themselves. You had seen him defend Momoi countless times. Now that you thought about it, it seemed rather intersting, almost like a paradox. 'Wait a minute, did I just thought of Daiki Aomine as interesting? That idiot?' You shook your head at the thought, water droplets flying into all directions. Yet, he seemed to seep in through the cracks of your fury, seemed to calm you down and get you to feel embarrassed at the idea he could be waiting outside of the locker room. Idea, or hope? You tried not thinking at all, and went to dress yourself. The thoughts of him only seemed to sink in further in your mind, and you tried to shoo them off. 'He's not waiting for me. I shouldn't be so silly. Why would he do that, he already fixed my issue. Besides, he had something to discuss with Ryo anyways. He mentioned Wakamatsu, so it must be about basketball.' You couldn't help but omit a small sigh, as you grabbed your ruined bag, which had dried by now, thankfully. As you made your way out of the locker room, your eyes widened upon the sight of an awaiting Aomine. You let out a small breath out of the pleasant surprise. 'Pleasant?' "Yeah, just like I thought. It's not ill-fitting." He eyed you up and down, and you looked at him. "Thank you for waiting for me, but I'm too emotionally exhausted to deal with your perversion." He chuckled, giving you a small smirk. "Don't worry, I won't do anything. Besides, I could have entered the locker room easily, yet I didn't, did I?" "No." "Did the paint leak through you bag?" He asked, surprising you he thought of that. "No," you answered once more, but with a slight smile on your face this time. "Good." His expression softened and your heart fluttered, your smile widening. 'Does Aomine actually have a soft side to him?' You wondered, as you searched his blue eyes for sincerity. 'They're actually a really nice kind of blue...' And as you looked into those eyes, allowing yourself to see Aomine without the usual judgement and caution, it happened. "Rehl?" He asked, his lips quirking up. "Imo?" You asked, the name coming to you all of a sudden before you began giggling out of happiness. Aomine was smiling broadly at you. "This is great. I had always been worried I'd Recognize a flatchest." You hit him, but more softly then you usually would do. "Go out with me on a date before you start making such comments. I told you I'm not in the mood, and Recognition did NOT change my mind." "Sure babe." He carried a stupid, happy grin on his face, but as you thought about it, you imagined you probably had the same expression on your face. "Do you have anything on Saturday?" You inquired. "I do now." He winked, and you giggled in response, high on the happiness. 'Seems I judged him too quickly. All this time of searching, yet judging him by his cover was the one hindrance.' You gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Sorry, for judging you too quickly." His cheeks carried a slight twinge of red as he escorted you back to the art club. As he talked with Ryo about the training camp the coach was planning, he kept glancing at you. Your cheeks were as red as his, no doubt. That's just the feeling, of finding true love.

[lilac-cat-draws]

youe flower shop au is so so so so cute pls tell me the little details youve figured out for it- like litterally info dump anything you want am just so curious thank you wow- also i have too many drawins to do rn but at some point could i make fanarts for your au? so so cuteeee

Oh I didn't expect to have an ask about this AU again, but thank you!

Even though I haven't been back in the fandom for a while, I'll gladly share what I could from what I can remember. I don't know when I'll get back into this, you can say that this AU is on a very long hiatus for the time being.

The Flower Shop and Tattoo Parlour AU was of course something I've made on a whim just to write my ships in but the more I got into it I got invested into writing little headcanons while at the same time having some parts of this AUs story be somewhat similar to the original.

Also I thought I'd say it here but if anyone else is invested in this AU as well, I wouldn't mind seeing anyone else have a go at this AU concept too, so I'm giving full permission to use as some inspiration. I'd love to see what others could do with this story.

This is long so I added a cut

The things I haven't brought up in this AU are mostly the other PM and ADA member's roles in the AU these where the other ideas I had in mind that I never though of posting, not including Soukoku and shin soukoku (unfortunately I didn't have any illustrations of them so it's just text for now) :

ADA (Tattoo Parlour)

Yosano - I had posted about her once before and I think the information about her is still the same. Works at the Tattoo shop part time and as a doctor for her main job, she's one of the workers who are skilled in applying piercings

Ranpo - He was the trickiest one to come up with because of who he is as a character, but the closest I could think of is that He could also be a tattoo artist and a really skilled one in fact, but he prefers to just sit back and do his own thing so he doesn't work with a lot of client unless he wants to himself

Kunikida - He would be the manager of the shop and would of course still be a former math teacher turned manager to a Tattoo Parlour, but for the reason on why he chose this, I never got into why or I probably forgot

Junichiro - One of the shops other piercers he's taking this job also part time in order to earn money to support him and his sister. Speaking of, Naomi is also very well known at the shop from how often she visits him at work and is often asked to leave by Kunikida when she stays for too long

Kyoka - She's a regular junior high student as well as Atsushi's neighbour. Her parents were the ones to have introduced her to him after a friendly encounter and would ask him to tutor their daughter when they're away for work on occasion. Kyoka personally sees him as an older brother figure to her and would keep her company as she would be often by herself

Kenji - a close school friend of Kyoka and he personally know Atsushi as well after being introduced by his friend. The two would also visit the shop sometimes whenever they walk back from school

Fukuzawa - the owner of the shop but also let's his workers operate freely as long as they're not causing any serious trouble, he has a past that he prefers not to bring up and the interaction between him and Ranpo is the same like in the original

PM (Flower Shop)

Kouyou - On of the best and oldest workers at the shop and is Chuuya's superior, she's the first to rely on as she provides the best bouquet arrangements for any special occasion whether it be events or weddings

Higuchi - A new worker at the shop and looks up to Akutagawa, she's well antiquated with both him and his sister Gin. Over time she had slowly developed feelings for Ryunosuke but is unfortunately unaware that he has eyes for someone else, a certain silver haired tattoo artist

Tachihara - He is also a new comer he worked at the shop before Higuchi, he's very laid back and would regularly hang out with Gin and Hirotsu during breaks

Hirotsu - Another experienced worker at the flower shop, for his age he's still capable of carrying large portions of supplies with no issue and would regularly smoke at the back of the shop whenever he's on break

Kajii - Tasked on looking over the quality of the flowers and maintains their quality but at the same time is very curious of the capabilities of the plants and would often be stopped by the other workers from wasting any more of their stock

Mori - The mysterious owner of the flower shop, it's unknown on why he chose to run one but apparently there are some rumours about the shop's owner having possible crime connections as well as former workers disappearing but they all lack information to confirm it's validity