#chay just assumes

[the-cookie-of-doom]

I'm so tired I'm about two brainwaves away from being declared medically braindead. What if I took this time to write a vampire AU idea I had last night?

Chay sells himself to be vampire!Kim's bloodwhore, getting jealous over Kim's other (imaginary, nonexistent) victims. Kim is just here trying to live his life, he did not sign up for this. But he's gotta admit, Chay is really cute when he gets all worked up and feisty over the (again! nonexistent!) other people Kim must be feeding on.

[vani-ash]

KP X DFF AU

(Takes place around events of ep 7 DFF and end of Kinnporsche)

(inspired by I re-watched ep6 of DFF and somehow missed that they sing TSICY on their way to Pors house on my first watch)

Somehow Non and Chay run into each other and they look identical. Chay, wanting to have some time away from the mafia he's become apart of, comes up with the idea after hearing Nons story to switch places. Non is reluctant at first but when Chay promises he can help solve Nons problems he agrees (Non doesn't fully trust Chay and leaves out some details like Mr Keng and Phee).

Chay has a Theerapanyakul mafia ring that he uses when the mafia guys come after him to get them to leave him alone, he also has access to mafia money that he tries to use to help Nons family as much as he can without causing suspicion. Chay is disgusted by how Nons 'friends’ treat him but Non had said he wanted to finish his movie so Chay plays along with them for now.

And Then whatever happens causing Non to disappear happens to Chay instead.

Non was told by Chay that if he went to the compound he’d be able to just walk in, he’s nervous but he does and when he’s engulfed in a hug by a stranger he feels a little better. He recognizes the man from a photo Chay had shown him, Porsche, who was worried because Chay disappeared and lost his bodyguards for a few hours.

Chay had told Non that he wasn’t speaking to his brother or anyone else really so if he did nothing but stay in Chays room the whole time he’d be fine and no one would question or really bother him.

Then Non gets a knock on his door, it’s Kim, he was trying to apologize to Chay about his song being stolen and that it wasn't him that released it and he didn’t mean for it to happen.

(Someone on Kims team finds a demo Kim made of Chays song (tsicy) when he was helping Chay record it, and releases it under Wiks name without Kim’s consent. Because Kim hasn’t released any new music since his break up with Chay and his company wants new music from him.)

Non feels bad about how distraught Kim sounds, and lets him in. Kim hadn’t expected for Chay to actually let him in, it’s been a month since Kim had been this close to Chay and so the first thing he does on impulse is hugs him. Non, currently still processing the worst week of his life, doesn’t push Kim away causing Kim to kiss him.

Anyway Kim somehow finds out that it wasn’t Chay who forgave him and that Non isn't Chay and demands Non tell him where Chay actually is and when they show back up everyone is confused (because they killed him like 3 weeks ago or something) and is like WTF?! But when Non just acts like nothing happened they don’t bring it up, and so now Non and Kim have to figure out what happened to Chay.

[mangled-by-disuse]

so one of the things that annoys me endlessly is this phenomenon where, when I say I like something, people assume that means I want more of it, a different version of it, add-ons and bells and whistles, and i'm just like

no.

no, when I say I like tea, I mean I like tea. Not herbal tisanes, not "tea with--", no milk, no sugar, no fruit, no frills, just good-quality tea in a range of fermentations and colours.

when I say I like a hot bath, I mean the bath. Not bubble-bath, not bath oils and foams and salves and unguents, not candlelight and music and a zen space to sensually relax with a book and a glass of wine, just a hot bath in a normally-lit bathroom where I can unwind and get clean.

when I say I like beer, I mean I like beer. Not fruit-flavoured, not with a special something-something added, for the love of GOD not sweetie-flavoured, just a well-brewed ale or stout in a simple pint glass, in good company.

and that isn't because there's anything WRONG with the add-ons! these are not bad things! I know that for some people, a tea advent calendar with different herbal blends, or a luxurious foamy scented bath with candles and music, is what they mean by "I like tea" and "I like baths". but it would just be nice if when I asked for a green tea, people didn't assume I mean "with..."

anyway this post is about lord of the rings: war of the rohirrim

[stinklebug]

potentially a hot take, but i think that chai's player isn't limited to songs that he downloaded onto it before it became part of him.

a lot of ppl cite chai saying "Does this mean I can't download anymore songs onto it?" during some optional dialogue as meaning that it is limited. but chai doesn't rlly know how it functions now that it's part of him. nobody does. i read that line as him either just making an assumption, or being sad abt the fact that he can't rlly listen to whatever specific song that he wants at any given moment anymore

the reason i think it's limitless in what songs can play is mostly bc a Lot of the songs that play throughout the game r very specific to whatever situation/environment he's in.

idk abt u, but i don't buy that chai would just happen to have a song titled 'Welcome to Qa' downloaded on his ipod that perfectly fits the vibes of the place he's in.

does this mean that it makes songs??? sure, that's entirely possible. if it has unlimited access to music, what's stopping it from making its own? in fact, honestly, that makes more sense than him having a song called 'Heatwave (VARRT Mix)' already on his ipod when he didn't even know varrt existed before

to note: i do think some of the songs were ones he downloaded onto it before everything, but a lot of them it just. doesn't rlly make sense to me for him to have those bc of how specific they r

[chayscribbles]

that's it i'm gonna f*nish this draft today if it kills me

[farfromstrange]

I don't want drama so much😭😭😭I just want comfort for our kitty, give him love pls...

Listen.

LISTEN.

I know I said “this will be a fluffy miniseries to give Mikey some comfort” and I will.

It’s just a rocky road.

Me: This will be hurt/comfort MIKEY NEEDS TO BE HAPPY!!!

My brain: But what about–

Me: HAPPY 👏🏻 H A P P Y

My brain: Angst :)

Me: NO!

My brain: Angsssstttt 🐍

Me: Okay, okay, maybe a little–

Everyone else:

Me:

Everyone else:

Me:

But–

Don’t worry, darling 😉

There will be a little bit of angst, but there will also be a happy ending. A very happy and very pleasant ending. And he will get the comfort he deserves 🫶🏻 I promise. Pinky promise.

I know I abused that angst button a little, but there won’t be drama of the kind you might be expecting now. I’m reserving that for when I decide to continue the series…

HE WILL BE HAPPY OKAY HE WILL BE HE IS GOING TO BE WE ARE GOING TO LOVE HIM VERY MUCH AND HE IS GOING TO BE HAPPY

I’m sorry for any heart attacks I might have caused or will be caused in the future.

[apatheticsunday]

Dead Tired Stalker AU

AKA "Tim Drake is a little obsessive, possessive, and really, really likes his new boyfriend (Danny)" prompt idea!! No non-con, violence, or dead doves. Brief reference to human experimentation.

Inspired by this one post where Tim kept a methodical journal of Danny's resting pulse, body temperature, weaknesses, tracked him literally all the time, and Danny was like *heart-eyes*

I like the idea of Tim's idea of love being completely a bit skewed. He was neglected as a kid and craved attention, affection, being wanted; so, understandably, he assumes that's what other people want, too. He'd only had one boyfriend before. Kon was sarcastic, funny, and sweet, but even he couldn't handle Tim's... staring. The unblinking intensity in those eyes, the hundreds of pictures of himself on Tim's phone, somehow Tim knowing about Kon's conversations and experiences without having been there.

Needless to say, Tim and Kon's relationship ended with a harsh reiteration that most people need boundaries.

So, when Tim meets this very cute messy-haired boy at Gotham-U, he shoves down the instinctive urge to know everything. Mentally captures moments, memorizes them, instead of taking pictures. Shoves earbuds in to avoid listening in on Danny's conversations (oh, his name's Danny, which he overheard when the boy was speaking with the TA).

It's so hard not to obsess, though. Danny is... well, he's haunting. His crystalline eyes make Tim's heart stutter in his chest, chills rising along his arms; he swears there's this aura around Danny that's just utterly compelling. (Stop it, Tim, you'll scare him off.) But Tim can actually be a person sometimes, so he just asks, "Do you want to go out for coffee with me sometime?" And he's psyched when Danny says yes!! (He tries really, really hard not to memorize the fact that Danny likes hot oatmilk chai lattes, uses his left hand to hold his drink, and prefers not to use a coffee sleeve. Does Danny always hold his cups by the lid? Does he prefer- Tim stops himself.)

And Tim is a great boyfriend!! They go on dates (he doesn't avidly stare at the way Danny's eyes sparkle while at Gotham-U's planetarium). Tim learns Danny's favorite music the normal way (he doesn't hack into Danny's Spotify... although he's suddenly found himself listening to an artist named Ember). And Tim has a totally normal album of pictures of his boyfriend on his phone (his burner phone is a different matter entirely, but not even Batman himself could get it unlocked. Tim's got that phone sealed up tighter than the Fortress of Solitude).

Except Tim notices Danny becoming more withdrawn. More tired, dark bags under his eyes and stealing Tim's double espresso (he never does that, it's too bitter for him, why isn't he drinking his oatmilk latte?). Leaning his head on Tim's shoulder during lectures to take naps. And Tim's becoming more frantic the more lethargic Danny becomes.

Maybe he's more like Bruce "Contingency Plan" Wayne than he's willing to admit. Tim sets a hard boundary for himself: I'm just going to Google his symptoms. That's it.

He spends the next 42 hours obsessively researching Danny: hacks into his phone, downloads all his previous location history, texts, calls, background checks everybody Danny's been in contact with. Re-traces his steps down to the minute, finds all his Google searches, activates Danny's laptop webcam. He's determined to find out what's wrong with his boyfriend.

And because Tim is Red Robin, who literally became part of the Batfam because of his stalking tendencies and is one of the greatest detectives since Batman, he finds out. He finds out that Danny Fenton is one Phantom, a vigilante from Amity; finds obscure clips of newspapers mentioning a young boy's tragic death, discovers the GIW, uncovers classified information containing metahuman experimentation (let's say he doesn't quite know about Ghosts, but Metas are close enough).

Somehow, he makes a connection between ectoplasm and the Lazarus Pit (maybe not necessarily the right connection, but something-adjacent). After all, Jason was resurrected via "Evil Baja Blast" and Ra's al Ghul used it to make himself immortal. It would make sense that the GIW could sample Lazarus Pit water and use it to experiment on metahumans. So... Does Danny just need more Lazarus Pit water?

Cue Tim making use of the Drake and Wayne family wealth to literally overnight mason jars full of Lazarus water. Ra's al Ghul has no idea how it happened. He tests the reaction of Danny's DNA and the Lazarus water only to realize he was right. (Lazarus Pit waters are just excessively concentrated ambient ectoplasm, I guess?)

Tim does what any good boyfriend would do and spikes Danny's oatmilk lattes with Lazarus Pit water. And it helps. Danny is suddenly so much more energetic, there's that glittering shine to his eyes, and he looks so much healthier. Happier. Tim can't stop staring at him. If anything, he stares more, tries to memorize every angle of his boyfriend's face; he collects more candid pictures than before, always catching the gentle curl of Danny's lips when he's distracted; doesn't disengage the tracking apps or phone mirroring software.

He's just happy that his boyfriend is feeling better, more like himself. It's just a perk that Danny doesn't know about Tim's minor stalking tendencies.

(Danny absolutely knows.)

[nightingale-prompts]

Just your average coffee shop AU-DCxDP prompt

What do you do when you've been blacklisted from every coffee chain in Gotham?

You have to find other sources.

That is Tim's current predicament but he put out a few messages out and an informant got back to him about a new café that opened on the outskirts of the city.

There wasn't much else on it other than the fact that it was located in an old cemetery. No details or anything.

Desperate for the black icker that made up his blood by this point Tim went.

Walking down the cobblestone path Tim began to doubt if the shop was real. The decrepit tombstones seemed to be the only people here but as he passed the mausoleums he saw a single stone crypt that had a sign.

Hours:

Tues-Saturday 12pm-3:00 am

Sunday: All day

Mon: Closed

(Vlad Masters is banned)

Tim opened the stone door and heard the faint sound of violins and saxophones. A staircase led deeper to an aged wooden door.

The rusty door henge screeched as he opened the door like a doorbell. The room was a lounge with plush seats and smooth wood tables. A dance floor was in the center currently occupied by well dressed patrons. The scent of fresh dark roast coffee filled the air. A band played live music, it was a blend of gothic folk and Jazz. The booths were filled with a few patrons cheering for the performers as they drank coffee and played cards.

The counter where he could order his drink was a bar. Despite what you'd assume they weren't selling alcohol at least not yet. The man behind the counter beckoned him over.

The barista dressed in a white dress shirt and a black buttoned vest embroidered with a ribcage design. He had fingerless gloves with matching skeletal hand design. The man's face was a pale bit warm tone with a blueish green hue on his cheekbones. His lips were a dark ashen black with a subtle shine. It was probably just the aesthetic.

"Evening, traveler." His voice practically purred as he greeted the weary young man"The rhythm's alive, and the spirits are waiting—how can I make your afterlife?"

"Coffee. Black." Tim said gruffly despite to get it in his system.

"Oh, you got it bad, don't you? Let me get you something that will actually help." The bartender said turning to brew a cup.

Tim's eyes scanned the chalkboard menu that hung above the bar.

Hot Coffee Drinks:

Graveyard Brew – A rich dark roast with a hint of smoked caramel. (Tucker's pick)

Phantom Flat White – A smooth flat white with ghostly foam art. (Danny's pick)

Latté of the Damned– A spiced pumpkin latte with black cinnamon dust. (Jazz's pick)

Eternal Espresso– A bold, double-shot espresso.

The Velvet Casket – Mocha with dark chocolate and a touch of vanilla.

Sepulcher Spice – Chai-spiced coffee with a hint of nutmeg. (Val's pick)

Necromancer’s Nitro – Nitro cold brew with a dash of maple syrup. (Dan's pick)

Iced Coffee Drinks:

Cold-Brew Crypt– Smooth cold brew with a splash of sweet cream.

Chilled Cadaver– Iced coffee with coconut milk and a shot of hazelnut. (Dani's pick)

The Frosted Requiem – Blended mocha with chocolate drizzle.

Soulful Swirl– Iced latte with caramel and a swirl of blackcurrant syrup.

Moonlit Macchiato– Vanilla macchiato with activated charcoal. (Sam's pick)

Tim definitely sensed a theme here.

"I added a few shots of expresso and some dark chocolate liquor. It should get you right and some minor heart palpitations. I think I'll call it 'The Black Veil'." The barista smiled very cat-like.

"Am I getting my name on the board?" Tim quipped without thinking as he sipped the hot coffee. Actually, it was cooler than he thought it would be. It was the perfect temperature. And the taste was amazing.

"Only if you're a regular and I think your drink might be too much for anyone else." The barista laughed softly.

"So...this place is pretty um...gothic?"

"This place used to be just for the dead but we've recently over up to the living."

"Heh, I get it."

"Get what?"

Tim coughed awkwardly. He didn't want to stop talking to the goth barista yet and the quality coffee was convincing. Maybe it was the environment. It was like walking into a different world.

"So what's this place called? So I know what Im coming back to." Tim tried to sound cool but let's face it, he's been beat.

"This is the Catacomb Club. Where the spirits swing and the night never sleeps. You should come again soon, cutie. I think I got a good surge of inspiration just looking at you." He purred in delight as he leaned over the bar tapped Tim's cheek.

Tim felt his face burn, the touch felt like electricity tickling his skin. A string of babbling seemed to come out of this mouth as he tried to respond.

"Heh heh, don't keep me waiting dear," he laughed "Oh, and by the way. My name is Danny. Catch me in the early shift. My brother works the late shift mixing the alcohol. But if you want you can catch me on the stage or on the dance floor. I might even make you an extra cup or two." Danny said.

Tim found his footsteps on the way up lighter and only when he made it back the cematary gate did he notice.

He never paid.

[karikarasuno]

shouto has your schedule memorized. accidentally of course, but it's ingrained in his head. for example, you’re always three minutes late. and you’re always carrying an obscene amount of things in your arms. today you’re holding a plastic tote that seems to have cupcakes inside– or maybe they’re muffins– along with a water bottle, a coffee mug, two bags, and your lunch box. he wants to offer to help, but instead he watches you. 

your first stop is always the break room. his eyes follow you until you disappear behind a corner. you’re wearing a dress today that hits right above your knees and boots that stop just below them. he rather enjoys when you wear dresses, only ever wearing them on fridays, when the dress code is more lax and you can incorporate more of your personal style. you wear colors. it is the only source of anything bright or cheerful in the office. 

aside from your office itself. it’s stationed right beside his. music is always trickling out beneath the cracks of the door and the soft smell of chamomile wafts around its four walls. he only recognizes the smell because he had a meeting with you in there to discuss some reports your department was in charge of and he noticed a small diffuser on your bookshelf with a chamomile essential oil beside it.

it’s rare that you’re ever alone together. even rarer that it’s somewhere as intimate as your office. it’s littered with things that are so innately you. that’s how he learned your favorite color is green. and that you have a vast assortment of teas organized in a wooden box on your desk. 

you always offer to make him a cup. he always declines, but the offer alone warms him from the inside. 

“morning , shouto,” you say, popping your head through his open door and smiling. his cheeks warm at the expression. he really never tires of looking at you.

“good morning,” his voice cracks, so he clears it as he sits up in his chair. when you step inside his office, the smell of your perfume hits him. it’s sweet like vanilla, but paired with something deeper, almost earthy. he tries not to close his eyes and relish in it. 

“so i made these vanilla chai muffins last night and cooked about a dozen too many,” you say, hand holding out a muffin on a napkin towards him. “would you like one?” 

he’s not even sure if he likes chai but he takes it anyway. because he likes you. your fingers are warm when they brush his. he wonders what it would be like to hold them. since his have a tendency to run cold –his right side more so than his left. but he imagines how comforting it would be. and then he remembers you’re still standing in front of his desk. expectantly. 

“thank you,” he says, assuming that’s what you’re waiting for.

“You’re welcome,” you respond sweetly, still standing patiently on the other side of his desk. there’s a moment of exchanging stares. heat rises and settles beneath his collar. your eye contact always unsettled him. but because it always felt like you were staring deeper into his soul than anyone he’s ever met. he never knows how to respond to it, other than glancing away.

you laugh, breathless and amused. “i want you to try it.”

“right now?”

“mhm,” you hum with a nod to emphasize your answer. 

“why?” he asks before thinking, but not in offense, purely because he's curious as to why you would want to watch him try something.

“because i want to know if you like it, and it's easier to tell if you’re lying if i see you take your first bite,” you joke, hands adjusting the bags that are still on your shoulder since you’ve yet to stop by your office. 

“oh ok,” he says, the heat below his collar beginning to escape up his neck. he pauses before he takes a bite, the muffin just an inch away from his lips. he feels your eyes on him intently. eager. And his nerves are starting to fester beneath his skin. 

his bite is bigger than he intends to be. nearly eating half of the muffin in one go. he hears you suppress a giggle, your eyes alight with amusement when he glances up at you with a mouth full of the pastry you made. he’s taken aback by how pretty you look at that moment. the sun peeking through his slanted blinds, not fully open, but wide enough to cast you in light that makes you appear quite heavenly. he never knows what to do with his feelings. an infatuation or maybe a crush or maybe something deeper. he didn’t know. not when you looked at him. not when you smiled at him. not when you touched him. 

all he knows is that he wants to keep your eyes on him, your smile directed towards him, and your hands always on him. 

“so?” you prompt, taking an anticipatory step closer to him. that’s when he remembers to chew. the flavor surprises him, sweet but spicy. light and not too sugary. it’s good, delicious even. he wonders how you can be so good at everything. or maybe he simply just likes everything that you do.  

“it’s really good,” he says, once he finally swallows his overindulgent bite. Your smile widens, probably deciding that he’s not lying, before tilting your head in that pretty way you always do and saying “glad you like it.”

he doesn’t get a chance to respond before you're exiting his office, somehow taking the life right out of it and back with you. the sun even dims in your absence. 

10:45 am on the dot and you’re walking past his office. it’s your scheduled tea time. he’s sure he’s the only one in the office that has noticed it. but every day at the same time you walk by with a mug and head for the break room. it’s where you keep your electric kettle. also in the color green.

today, again, you pause by his open door. he drops his pen in surprise. “i’m gonna make some tea.”

he simply stares. you smile again. and his heart stutters. “do you want some?”

“what kind do you have?” the question surprises even him.

“all kinds,” you respond cheekily.

“what’s your favorite?” 

“caffeinated or non-caffeinated?”

“non-caffeinated.”

“i’ll surprise you,” you wink, head tilting again in that way he really appreciates and this time his breathing gets stuck somewhere in his chest. 

When you return this time it’s with two mugs, both with heavy plumes of steam whirling above them. 

“careful,” you say as you set it down before him, “it’s really hot.”

“what is it?” he asks, smelling over the lip instinctively. 

“peppermint,” you answer.

[peach-moths]

Pov ur parents are divorced and ur the last kid to move out of home so you get roped into "helping" ur dad clean your brothers childhood bedrooms and he learns things about your childhood he didn't know before

A late high school years era teacher au comic based on a convo me and hera had about a Yoshi crash out centered around his (almost) empty and yet somehow still messy house and being over taken with the drive to clean it and mikey being the only witness to his crash out since he's the last kid living at home

Transcript:

Splinter(Yoshi): "Did Blue ever do his laundry?

Mikey: "Nah"

Mikey: "He'd beg each of us every week to clean his laundry for him"

Yoshi: "Did it work?"

Mikey: "No, he had to bribe us to do his laundry. How did you think I got chai lattes like twice a week, dad?"

Yoshi: "oh"

Yoshi: "I just assumed it was because Draxum was spoiling you. Not that you were swindling your brother"

[odileeclipse]

In the Presence of Truth {"Sage of Truth" (SMC) x Reader} PT 7

<<<Previous Next>>>

As you made your way to your next class, you spotted Earl Grey Cookie up ahead, his steady pace making it easy to catch up to him. Unlike Chai Latte Cookie, who had spent the entire lab period finding new ways to tease you, Earl Grey Cookie who wasn't in your lab section was far more reserved. He wouldn’t pry not unless he saw a reason to. Still, as soon as you fell into step beside him, he glanced at you with a measured look. "You’re unusually quiet," he observed. You let out a breath. "I’m just… thinking." Earl Grey Cookie adjusted the books in his arms. "Chai Latte Cookie was relentless again, I assume?" "You assume correctly." You groaned, rubbing your temples. "She and Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie both." Earl Grey Cookie hummed knowingly. "I had a feeling." You shot him a tired look. "Are you all in on this?" He raised an eyebrow. "On what, exactly?" You hesitated. "…Whatever this is." Earl Grey Cookie studied you for a moment before shaking his head. "I assure you, I have no particular stake in whatever is going on between you and the Sage of Truth." Your face burned. "There is nothing going on." His expression remained neutral, but you caught the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes. "If you say so." You groaned again, quickening your pace as if that would somehow escape the conversation. Earl Grey Cookie easily matched your stride. "I take it the lab was… eventful?"

You hesitated, then sighed. "It was fine. It was good, actually. I didn’t mess anything up. And the Sage of Truth was" You paused, struggling for the right words. "Patient?" Earl Grey Cookie offered. "Obviously," you said, exasperated. "But also… not as intimidating as I thought he’d be in a setting like that." Earl Grey Cookie gave a thoughtful nod. "I see." "You see?" you echoed, narrowing your eyes. "What do you see?" He glanced at you, entirely composed. "That you seem far more comfortable around him than before." You faltered slightly. “Well" "You even spoke to him casually at the end of class, Chai Latte sent me a note" he continued, adjusting his glasses. Your face grew warm as you recalled your offhanded comment about his hat. You hadn’t even thought before speaking it had just come naturally. Earl Grey Cookie took your silence as confirmation. "Interesting," he murmured. You scowled. "I don’t like the way you said that." He merely shrugged. "Then perhaps you should reflect on why it bothers you." You had no response to that, and he knew it. The rest of the walk was quiet, but your thoughts were anything but.

You settled into your seat, Earl Grey Cookie taking his usual spot beside you while Chai Latte Cookie and Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie sat across from you. The moment you sat down, Chai Latte Cookie gave you a knowing look, but thankfully said nothing just yet. You busied yourself with your notes, pretending to review them as if you weren’t acutely aware of the way your friends were just waiting to bring up the lab. "So," Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie started, leaning back in his chair, "how was your grand alchemical adventure?" "It was fine," you answered, keeping your voice even. "No disasters, no explosions. I think that’s a win." Chai Latte Cookie hummed, tilting her head. "And how was working with the Sage of Truth?" You rolled your eyes. "Like I said, fine." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie smirked. "Just fine?" You resisted the urge to groan. "He’s patient. He listens. He actually explains things in a way that makes sense." You shrugged. "It’s… nice." Earl Grey Cookie nodded slightly, unsurprised. "A scholar of his caliber wouldn’t be where he is if he weren’t an excellent teacher." "Exactly," you agreed, grateful for his measured response. Chai Latte Cookie, however, was far less subtle. She propped her chin on her hands, watching you intently. "So you like working with him?" You blinked. "I mean… yeah?" "Mm-hmm," she mused. You narrowed your eyes. "Not like that." Chai Latte Cookie giggled. "Sure, sure. Just infatuation, then?" You bristled. "It’s not" You sighed, trying to find the right words. "It’s just… he’s him. He’s the Sage of Truth. He’s someone I’ve admired for a long time, someone I never thought I’d have a chance to learn from. And now that I am, it feels… I don’t know. Validating?" Earl Grey Cookie gave a small nod of understanding. "It makes sense. He’s giving you the time and attention to actually learn, something you’ve struggled to find elsewhere."

"Exactly," you said, relieved that someone understood. Chai Latte Cookie smiled softly, some of her teasing edge fading. "I get it," she said. "It’s not about a crush, it’s about finally being heard." You nodded, grateful. "Yeah." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie let out a low chuckle. "Alright, alright. No romance, just admiration." He held up his hands in surrender. "We’ll stop teasing. For now." You groaned. "Thanks, I guess." Chai Latte Cookie beamed. "Of course! What are friends for?" Before you could respond, the professor walked in, and the classroom settled into a quiet hum of focus. As the lecture began, you found yourself actually engaged…not just lost in the material, but understanding it. And maybe, just maybe, you had the Sage of Truth to thank for that.

As class came to an end, you meticulously finished jotting down the last of your notes before closing your notebook with a satisfied sigh. You felt confident about the material, something that was becoming a rare but welcome feeling lately. As you packed up, Chai Latte Cookie stretched her arms above her head with a dramatic groan. "Ugh, I still have another class after this. You’re so lucky you’re done for the day." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie let out a tired sigh. "Seriously. I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat." Earl Grey Cookie adjusted his bag with a small nod. "At least one of us gets to escape." You gave them a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Yeah, lucky me." You were technically free for the day now, and yet… something felt off. It wasn’t like you wanted another class, but the absence of your usual study session with the Sage of Truth left an odd, empty space in your schedule. Normally, at this time, you’d be meeting him in his study, going over complex theories, having things explained in ways that finally made sense. Now? You had nowhere to be. "Well, enjoy your freedom," Chai Latte Cookie said, nudging you lightly. "We’ll be suffering while you get to do whatever you want." "You could use the time to review," Earl Grey Cookie suggested. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie snorted. "Or, you know, actually relax for once." You nodded absentmindedly, already lost in thought. It wasn’t like you needed to meet with the Sage of Truth today. You could still study on your own. But… it wouldn’t be the same. Pushing the thought aside, you waved to your friends as you parted ways, stepping out into the crisp afternoon air. Maybe you’d go to the library, just to keep up the routine. After all, there was still plenty to learn even if today, you’d have to do it alone. As you stepped out of the lecture halls, the thought of heading to the library weighed on your mind but something about sitting in a dimly lit room surrounded by towering shelves didn’t appeal to you today. Instead, your feet carried you toward a place far more inviting, a place where your mind felt at ease no matter how much pressure weighed on your shoulders  the Academy Gardens. Nestled within the heart of Blueberry Yogurt Academy, the gardens stretched out like a living tapestry of color and tranquility. Enclosed by grand archways of ivy-wrapped stone, it was a sanctuary away from the stress of academia, where nature and magic intertwined effortlessly. The winding cobblestone paths gleamed faintly under the enchanted lanterns hanging from wrought-iron posts, their glow adjusting seamlessly with the passing hours. Blooms of every imaginable hue flourished here soft lilac petals that shimmered under the sunlight, golden blossoms that pulsed with warmth like tiny captured suns, and deep indigo flowers whose edges sparkled with a silvery dust, as though kissed by the night sky itself.

Most striking of all were the Willow Trees, their branches arching high overhead. They cast dappled, ever-moving shadows along the pathways, and whenever a breeze passed through, the leaves whispered softly, their glow brightening for the briefest moment before settling back into a gentle luminescence. You found your favorite spot, a stone bench beneath one of the largest Willow Trees, tucked beside a reflecting pool that mirrored the sky in perfect clarity, save for the occasional ripple when a koi-like, ethereal creature breached the surface before vanishing into the depths. The faint scent of night-blooming jasmine lingered in the air, blending with the crisp, earthy aroma of the old stone and the damp greenery around you. Here, the rest of the world felt distant. You set your things down, exhaling as you pulled out your notes. Maybe studying alone wouldn’t be so bad. At least here, in the gardens, you could breathe. You could think. As you opened your notebook and began reviewing the day’s lesson, the soft rustling of the trees and the rhythmic trickle of a small nearby fountain filled the silence. It wasn’t quite the same as a study session with the Sage of Truth, but in this moment, you could almost pretend that everything was exactly as it should be. You tapped the end of your quill against the open page of your notebook, staring down at the magical reaction problem scrawled before you. It was a complex equation, one that required a thorough breakdown of the reagents, their properties, and how they interacted with one another. Normally, this would be the part where you turned to someone for guidance. But today, you were on your own. Frowning, you traced the components of the reaction with your fingertip, murmuring their names under your breath. "Alright… First, the infusion of Lunar Essence acts as the catalyst… but why? It must have an affinity with" Your mind wandered. You could almost hear the voice of the Sage of Truth calm, refined, and laced with quiet amusement. "A fascinating line of thought" you imagined him saying, tilting his head just so, his ornate hat casting a shadow over his inquisitive gaze. "What properties of Lunar Essence make it such an effective catalyst? Surely, you’re not relying on mere intuition, are you?" You huffed at the imaginary version of him, shaking your head as you refocused. "Fine," you muttered to yourself, tapping the quill once more. "Lunar Essence… it interacts with Arcane Silver, which means… conductivity? No, it’s not just that"

"Ah, close but not quite." The voice in your head chimed again, ever patient, ever teasing. "Rather than searching for the answer outright, consider the nature of the reaction itself. What is being transmuted?" You bit your lip, your thoughts unraveling at his nonexistent prompting. "The base solution shifts from liquid to crystalline structure at the end… That must mean there’s a stabilizing component… That’s why the Lunar Essence works! It binds with the Arcane Silver to create a structured lattice, reinforcing the transmutation!" There was no one around to see the small, triumphant smile that crossed your face, but you could still hear the imagined approval in his voice. "Now, was that so difficult?" You rolled your eyes, as if he had actually spoken, before shaking your head at yourself. Maybe you had spent too much time studying under him if you were beginning to hear his critiques in your own thoughts. Still, there was a certain comfort in it. You sighed, stretching your arms over your head before leaning back against the cool stone of the bench. Studying alone might not have been as productive as a session with him, but at the very least, you felt like you were getting somewhere. Even if, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but wonder what he might have said had he been here in person. The afternoon melted away as you poured over your work, lost in the steady rhythm of flipping pages, scribbling notes, and working through complex magical formulas. The gardens, with their soft rustling leaves and faint scent of enchanted flora, had lulled you into a state of focus so deep that time itself seemed to blur. Only when your stomach gave an audible grumble did you finally look up, blinking as if waking from a trance. The sky had darkened, the warm hues of twilight fading into the deep blues of night. You frowned, glancing around the once sunlit pathways were now bathed in the glow of enchanted lanterns, their soft light casting gentle ripples on the stone walkways. How long had you been here?

Gathering your things, you quickly made your way to the dining hall, your pace picking up when another wave of hunger hit you. By the time you arrived, the massive chamber was nearly empty. Only a few scattered students lingered at distant tables, their voices hushed in quiet conversation or lost in their own late-night meals. You exhaled, rubbing your eyes as you approached the serving area. The kitchen staff had begun winding down for the evening, but thankfully, there were still a few options left. You hastily grabbed a simple plate of food before making your way to an empty table near the large arched windows. The quiet was… strange. Normally, the dining hall buzzed with energy. Friends chatting animatedly, scholars discussing their latest research, the clatter of trays and utensils filling the vast space. But now, with so few students remaining, the usual liveliness had dulled into something much softer. You took a slow bite of your meal, staring out the window at the distant lights flickering across the academy grounds. For the first time all day, you allowed yourself to relax, your mind drifting back to your studies, your work… and, inevitably, the way you had been imagining the Sage of Truth’s voice guiding you earlier. A small, tired chuckle escaped you. Maybe you needed to step away from your books for a bit. Or maybe… you just needed an actual tutoring session.

The next morning, the first thing you noticed was how heavy your limbs felt. Your body protested against movement, exhaustion clinging to you like a thick fog. Every muscle felt sluggish, your mind dull and slow. You cracked open your eyes just enough to see the soft morning light filtering through your window, golden rays spilling across the floor. Normally, this was the moment you'd sigh and force yourself up, mentally preparing for the long day ahead. But today…Today, you just couldn’t. Your eyes slipped shut again. Maybe it was the late night, or the fact that you'd worked yourself into near delirium in the gardens. Maybe it was skipping a proper dinner or the mental exhaustion of studying without guidance. Whatever it was, the idea of leaving the warmth of your blankets felt unbearable. You exhaled, shifting slightly under the covers. You had classes today. Things to do. A schedule to keep. But the moment you thought of pulling yourself out of bed, a deep, gnawing fatigue weighed you down again. Just this once. Just one day. It wasn’t like you made a habit of skipping. And it wasn’t like you weren’t trying your hardest. With that justification settling in your mind, you curled deeper into your blankets, letting the world outside your dorm continue without you. A few hours passed in a haze of half-sleep and fleeting thoughts. The soft sounds of the academy bustling beyond your window barely registered. You drifted in and out, torn between resting and the nagging guilt of missing class.

You don’t know how much time it’s been but…Knock, knock, knock! The sudden, insistent rapping against your door made you jolt, your heart skipping a beat. For a brief moment, you considered ignoring it, hoping whoever it was would just assume you weren’t in and leave. No such luck. "Hey! We know you're in there," came Chai Latte Cookie’s singsong voice, muffled slightly by the door. "Are you seriously skipping?" Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie’s voice followed, far less amused. "If you’re sick, just say that. Otherwise, you have zero excuses." Another knock firmer this time. "You’re usually up by now," Earl Grey Cookie chimed in, ever composed. "What’s going on?" You groaned, burying your face into your pillow before sighing deeply. There was no escaping them. Dragging yourself up, you shuffled to the door and cracked it open just enough to peek through. Immediately, Chai Latte Cookie pushed against it with a knowing smirk. "Aha! You are in here." "You say that like I was hiding," you mumbled, voice hoarse from disuse. "Were you?" she countered, raising a brow. You exhaled, leaning against the doorframe. "I was just… tired." Earl Grey Cookie studied you for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. "You do look exhausted." "Yeah, because I am," you admitted. "I just… I needed a day." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie crossed his arms. "Okay, fair. But it’s afternoon now. You can’t just waste the whole day in bed." Chai Latte Cookie nodded in agreement, hands on her hips. "Exactly! Come on, get dressed. Let’s at least do something." You sighed again, rubbing your face. "Do I have to?" "Yes," all three of them answered at once. You let out a tired chuckle, shaking your head. "Alright, alright. Just… give me a minute." As they stepped back to wait, you shut the door and let out a deep breath. It wasn’t like you had any real reason to stay in bed now. And besides being with them sounded a little better than being alone with your own tired thoughts.

After quickly running a hand through your hair in a futile attempt to make yourself look somewhat presentable, you opened the door fully. Chai Latte Cookie took one look at you and stifled a giggle, while Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie just shook his head. "You look like you lost a battle with your pillow," he remarked dryly. You sighed. "Yeah, well, my pillow put up a good fight." Earl Grey Cookie gave you a once-over, then nodded in approval. "At least you're up now. That’s progress." Stretching your arms with a quiet yawn, you glanced at them with mild suspicion. "So… what exactly are we doing? Because if this is some elaborate plot to drag me halfway across the academy, I’d like to remind you that I still have studying to do later." Chai Latte Cookie waved a dismissive hand. "Don’t worry, we’ll keep it chill for your sake." "Define chill," you pressed. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie smirked. "Some fresh air, maybe a stop at the café, definitely no surprise study sessions." "You’re not gonna start quizzing me mid-bite, are you?" "No promises," Chai Latte Cookie teased, nudging your arm. You groaned dramatically, but truthfully, the idea didn’t sound half bad. A little time away from books wouldn’t kill you especially considering how drained you felt. "Fine, fine," you relented, stepping out into the hallway. "But if I start falling asleep at the table, it’s on you." Earl Grey Cookie hummed thoughtfully. "If that happens, I’ll simply take notes on how long it takes for you to drool on yourself." You shot him a tired glare as your friends laughed, guiding you down the hall and out into the afternoon light.

As you reluctantly picked up your fork and took a bite of the pastry in front of you, the flaky layers practically melted on your tongue, the sweetness just enough to be satisfying without being overwhelming. Chai Latte Cookie beamed as she watched you eat.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" she teased, propping her chin up with both hands. You swallowed, giving her a flat look. "I was going to eat anyway." "Uh-huh, sure," Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie drawled, leaning back in his chair. "If we hadn't put food in front of you, you'd still be staring into space like some tragic figure from an old play." You snorted. "Dramatic much?" "I'm just saying," he continued, smirking. "First, you forget to eat dinner. Now you're dragging yourself through the day like a zombie. Next thing we know, you'll start reciting poetry about your suffering." He placed a hand over his heart mockingly. "Oh, woe is me, for I have studied too hard and now-" Earl Grey Cookie cut him off with a tired sigh. "Enough. Let them eat in peace." Chai Latte Cookie giggled. "You do have a bad habit of pushing yourself too hard, though. Even if you don’t have a fever, exhaustion isn’t something you can just ignore. What if you collapse in the middle of your study session?" "I won’t," you insisted, taking another bite. "You say that now," Earl Grey Cookie mused, adjusting his glasses. "But if you push yourself too far, the consequences will catch up to you eventually." You waved them off. "I know my limits." "Do you?" Chai Latte Cookie challenged, arching a brow. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie laughed. "At this point, I think Shadow Milk Cookie…er, the Sage of Truth knows your limits better than you do."

You nearly choked on your pastry. "What?" Chai Latte Cookie grinned. "Oh, come on. He probably can tell. The guy is a walking encyclopedia. No way he hasn't noticed how hard you’ve been pushing yourself." You groaned. "Can we not bring him into this?" Earl Grey Cookie, ever the composed one, merely took another sip of his tea. "It is an amusing observation, though. You’ve been more diligent than ever since you started studying with him." "Because I'm actually learning," you emphasized. "That's the whole point of studying with him. That doesn't mean he knows my limits better than I do." "You do get this weird look in your eyes whenever you talk about him, though," Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie pointed out. "I do not," you said, exasperated. "You totally do," Chai Latte Cookie added. "Like you're both in awe of him and terrified of disappointing him." Earl Grey Cookie hummed thoughtfully. "A mixture of admiration and fear. Interesting combination." You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. "You all need hobbies." "This is our hobby," Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie said with a smirk. Chai Latte Cookie laughed. "You walked right into that one." Despite your exasperation, a small smile tugged at your lips. Even if they teased you relentlessly, you appreciated that they cared. Before long, your plate was empty, and the time had come for your study session. You stood, grabbing your things. "Alright, I should head out." "Try not to pass out in front of the Sage of Truth," Chai Latte Cookie teased. You rolled your eyes. "I'll be fine." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie gave a lazy wave. "If you suddenly gain the ability to see the truth of the universe from sheer exhaustion, let us know." "I'll be sure to document my findings," you shot back dryly before turning to leave. Earl Grey Cookie’s voice followed you as you walked away. "Don’t push yourself too hard." With their words lingering in your mind, you made your way toward your study session, already steeling yourself for whatever awaited you.

The walk to your study session felt longer than usual. The late afternoon air carried a gentle breeze, rustling through the towering trees that lined the Academy’s stone pathways. Normally, you would have taken in the sight the golden light filtering through the leaves, the distant hum of other students finishing their day but today, your steps felt heavier. You rolled your shoulders back in an attempt to shake off the sluggishness, adjusting the strap of your bag. You had been looking forward to this session all day, yet now, with the weight of exhaustion creeping in, you worried you wouldn't be able to focus. As you neared the study hall, you caught sight of the tall, arched windows leading into his office. The Sage of Truth was already inside, his elaborate coat flowing as he moved between bookshelves, retrieving a heavy tome with ease. Even from here, you could see how effortlessly he carried himself graceful, poised, every movement deliberate. You hesitated just outside, catching a glimpse of your own reflection in the glass. Your uniform was neat enough, but there was no hiding the slight tiredness clinging to your expression, the subtle droop of your eyelids.

You exhaled slowly, smoothing a hand over your hair and straightening your posture. You’re fine. You can handle this. Another breath. Then you stepped forward, pushing the door open just enough to slip inside. The soft creak of the door made Shadow Milk Cookie glance up, his golden eyes gleaming under the warm light of the arcane lamps. He set the book down on the desk, his expression unreadable as he observed you. "Ah," he said, voice smooth and rich. "You are here. Punctual, as always." You nodded, forcing a small smile. "Of course. I wouldn’t miss it." His gaze lingered for a fraction longer than you expected, as if studying you for something just beyond the surface. You held still, hoping he wouldn’t comment on the exhaustion weighing on your limbs.Instead, he gestured to the desk, where a series of scrolls and open books were already laid out. "Come. There is much to discuss." Relieved, you stepped forward, hoping your sluggishness wouldn’t betray you. As you set your bag down and took a seat, you glanced over the array of books and scrolls sprawled across the desk. Some of the texts looked familiar old tomes on magical theory and transmutation but others were written in a script you didn’t immediately recognize. You folded your hands on the table, keeping your posture as composed as possible. "So… what are we discussing today?"

Shadow Milk Cookie settled into his seat across from you, fingers tapping lightly against the cover of a particularly aged book. "Ah, an excellent question," he mused, his voice carrying the same theatrical lilt as ever, though tempered with the scholarly patience you had come to recognize. "Today, we will be delving into the intricacies of arcane catalysts those most vital elements that transform mere magic into tangible phenomena." You nodded slowly, your brain already working to process the subject. "Catalysts… like the ones used in alchemical reactions?" "Precisely." He leaned forward slightly, golden eyes bright with enthusiasm. "But far beyond the mundane applications you are accustomed to. We shall explore not only what makes a catalyst effective, but how the very nature of magic itself dictates its function. Why, for instance, does one material spark a reaction, while another, seemingly similar, remains inert?" Your gaze flickered to the books again, taking in the careful notes scribbled in the margins. The topic was interesting, but you could already feel the weight of fatigue pressing at the edges of your focus. Still, you straightened in your seat, pushing through it. "That sounds… really complex." Shadow Milk Cookie gave a small, knowing smile. "Ah, but what is knowledge if not a challenge to be unraveled?" His tone was light, but something in his gaze sharpened, studying you in a way that made you feel like he could see straight through your composed exterior.

You quickly averted your eyes to the open book in front of you, forcing yourself to concentrate. No matter how exhausted you were, you would keep up today. You hesitated for a moment, your fingers idly tracing the edge of the open book before you finally admitted, in a quieter voice than usual, "I… wasn’t in lecture today." Shadow Milk Cookie, who had just begun to unfurl a scroll, paused. His gaze lifted from the parchment to meet yours, unreadable yet perceptive in a way that made your stomach twist with unease. "Ah," he said simply, his tone not one of disappointment, nor judgment, but curiosity. "And am I correct in assuming that today’s absence was… not intentional?" You swallowed, not trusting yourself to meet his eyes. "No, it wasn’t. I just" You sighed, shaking your head. "I wasn’t feeling great. Ended up staying in my dorm." For a beat, he was silent, though you could feel the weight of his contemplation. "I see," he finally said, voice measured. "Then I must ask, did you push yourself to come here despite still feeling unwell?" You opened your mouth, instinctively wanting to deny it, to say you were fine. But you hesitated. Lying wouldn’t get you anywhere with him. You settled for a small shrug. "I didn’t want to miss another chance to study." Shadow Milk Cookie regarded you for another long moment before exhaling a soft chuckle. "A commendable sentiment, but hardly necessary to jeopardize your well-being over. If you had informed me, I would have gladly rescheduled." You felt your face heat slightly, though you weren’t sure if it was out of embarrassment or something else. "I didn’t want to make it seem like I was slacking off."

At that, he tilted his head slightly, studying you with the same careful consideration he reserved for difficult inquiries. "Dedication is admirable, but one must also recognize their own limits. Pushing forward without care will not yield the clarity of truth, only exhaustion." You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding slightly. "So… is the material we’re going over from today’s lecture?" He sat back, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "In part, yes. However, given the circumstances, I will tailor our discussion accordingly." He gestured to the book in front of you. "Let us begin with the foundation, then build from there." You let out a quiet breath of relief, nodding as you reached for your notes. Even in your sluggish state, you could at least try to keep up. You tried truly, you did. At first, you followed along well enough, nodding when appropriate, scribbling notes in the margins of your book, even managing to answer a few of Shadow Milk Cookie’s guiding questions. But the longer you stared at the equations, the intricate magical symbols detailing reaction pathways, the more they blurred together into an indecipherable mess. Numbers, symbols, and theoretical principles tangled in your mind like a pile of frayed threads. Your brain felt slow, sluggish, as if wading through honey. You blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the haze creeping in. “…And so, by introducing a stabilizing agent at this stage,” Shadow Milk Cookie continued, his voice steady and patient, “one ensures the reaction maintains its integrity without risk of volatility.” You nodded absentmindedly, but your silence stretched too long. "Would you care to summarize that principle for me?" he prompted, not unkindly. Your mind scrambled, grasping at something anything to hold onto, but it was like trying to cup water in your hands. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, realizing you had no idea what he had just said. “…Uh.” You stared down at your notes, hoping the words on the page would jog your memory, but they may as well have been written in a foreign language. Shadow Milk Cookie observed you in silence for a moment before tilting his head slightly. “You are unfocused.” You winced. "I No, I’m just" He held up a hand, stopping you before you could force out an excuse. “I do not mean it as a reprimand,” he assured. “Rather, an observation.” His eyes flickered to your posture shoulders slumped, head propped lazily against your palm, exhaustion clinging to you like an extra layer of robes. “Your mind is elsewhere, entangled in weariness.” You exhaled through your nose, rubbing your temples. “…Yeah.” There was no use denying it. "I don’t know why, but my brain just feels… messy." Shadow Milk Cookie hummed, his gaze contemplative. “Then perhaps further study is not what you require at this moment.” You blinked, lifting your head slightly. "Wait you’re saying we should stop?" “I am saying that persistence, when ineffective, must be reconsidered.” He clasped his hands together, resting them atop the table. "What do you believe will come of forcing yourself through material while in such a state?" You hesitated. "…Not much, I guess." He gave a small, approving nod. “Indeed. You are fatigued, and continuing in this manner will serve only to muddle your thoughts further.” He leaned back slightly. “Therefore, a pause is in order.” You frowned. "A… pause?"

"A temporary reprieve. A clearing of the mind." He gestured vaguely to the dimming sky outside the window. "Perhaps a walk through the academy gardens. A moment to breathe and realign your thoughts before returning to your studies with renewed clarity." You hesitated, glancing back at your notes. "But… I should really" "You should really allow yourself the same patience you so generously extend to your studies," he countered gently. You fell quiet. It was strange had anyone else told you to stop studying, you might have brushed them off. But something about the way he phrased it, the unwavering certainty in his voice, made you second-guess yourself. Maybe… Maybe he was right. You hesitated for a moment before gathering the nerve to ask, “Would you… come with me?” Shadow Milk Cookie regarded you curiously. “I mean,” you rushed to add, “I’d rather not walk the afternoon halls alone. Might make it seem like I don’t have friends.” You attempted a lighthearted chuckle to mask the awkwardness of your request. For a moment, he said nothing, merely watching you with an unreadable expression. Then, with a slight incline of his head, he replied, “Very well. If you would have my company.” You blinked, half-expecting him to decline. “…Really?” “Of course,” he said simply, standing from his seat with practiced elegance. “A scholar should always strive to seek balance, and if a walk is what is needed to restore focus, then I see no reason to refuse.” You felt an odd mix of relief and though you hated to admit it a little warmth at the idea of walking with him. The halls, especially in the later hours of the day, could be eerily quiet, filled only with the faint echoes of footsteps or the distant murmur of those finishing their own studies. Having him beside you made the idea of wandering them feel less… lonely.

As you both exited the study room, the soft flicker of enchanted lanterns lined the corridors, casting gentle, swaying shadows along the stone walls. The academy had always carried a grand, almost otherworldly air, but in this stillness, with only the quiet cadence of your steps and the distant rustling of parchment from an unseen study, it felt almost intimate. “So,” you started, glancing up at him, “Do you always agree to accompany struggling students on impromptu walks?” Shadow Milk Cookie chuckled a sound so rare you almost stopped in your tracks. “You presume many students ask such things of me.” You frowned. “You mean they don’t?” He shook his head. “Rarely. Most find my presence more daunting than inviting.” You huffed a small laugh. “I guess I can see that. You are kind of… overwhelming.” His brow arched ever so slightly, amusement flickering in his gaze. “Overwhelming?”

“In a scholarly way,” you clarified quickly. “You have this… presence about you. Like you always know exactly what to say, how to say it. Like you have all the answers.” He hummed in thought. “And does that overwhelm you?” You opened your mouth to answer but hesitated. Did it? When you had first started studying under him, absolutely. But now…You shook your head. “Not really. At least, not anymore.” There was a pause, then a small nod from him. “I am pleased to hear that.” You weren’t sure why that made your chest feel oddly lighter. The two of you made your way toward the academy gardens, You didn’t notice he was the one following you. That for once you were the guiding light he didn’t even question where you went. The air was cooler with the approaching evening, you realized that despite your exhaustion you weren’t dreading the walk at all. If anything, you found yourself grateful for it.

The quiet hum of your footsteps filled the corridor, the soft flicker of lanterns casting elongated shadows along the stone walls. You had walked these halls plenty of times before, but something about the silence about his presence beside you made them feel different tonight. Your fingers toyed absentmindedly with the hem of your sleeve as you finally found the courage to speak. "Sage of Truth," you began, keeping your voice even, "are you ever afraid of disappointing people?" He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, his gaze remained forward, eyes reflecting the glow of passing lanterns. It was rare for you to ask something so direct, but the question had been sitting at the back of your mind for a while now. He was the Sage of Truth…renowned, revered. People looked to him for guidance, for knowledge, for answers. And yet, no one could possibly meet every expectation placed upon them. Could they? Shadow Milk Cookie finally spoke, his tone even but thoughtful. "An interesting question," he mused. "What brings it to mind?" You hesitated. "Well… you always seem so sure of yourself. So certain. Like you always have the right answer. But doesn’t that… feel like a lot sometimes?"

He was silent again, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd overstepped. But then, in a voice quieter than usual, he answered, "Truth does not waver but those who seek it sometimes do." You blinked, trying to parse his meaning. He glanced at you then, the weight of his gaze measured but not unkind. "Expectation is a natural burden of knowledge," he continued. "There are many who look to me for certainty, for answers they themselves cannot find. To disappoint them would be to shake the foundation upon which they rely." You frowned. "That sounds… exhausting." "Perhaps," he admitted. "But it is the path I have chosen. And if truth is to be sought, it must be upheld without hesitation." You chewed on his words, absorbing them. It made sense, in a way his devotion to truth was unwavering, a constant in an ever-changing world. And yet… "You didn’t answer my question," you pointed out softly. Shadow Milk Cookie paused mid-step, turning his head slightly to regard you. You tilted your chin up, meeting his gaze despite the nervous flutter in your chest. "You said disappointing people would shake their foundation. But does that mean you're afraid of it?" For the first time since you'd met him, he did not have an immediate answer. Instead, he merely held your gaze for a long, unreadable moment before continuing forward. And though he never gave you a direct response, the silence that followed felt like an answer in itself. You walked a little slower now, your thoughts pressing down on you heavier than before. His silence had left something lingering in the air, something uncertain, unspoken. Maybe that was why you felt brave enough to say it. "I'm afraid of disappointing people too," you admitted, your voice quiet, but clear.

Shadow Milk Cookie glanced at you, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the corridor. "I don't have truth like you do," you continued, fidgeting with your sleeve. "But it still feels like people expect me to be great someday. Like there’s some version of me that I’m supposed to become, and everyone’s just waiting for me to get there." You exhaled sharply, your words coming faster now, as if saying them any slower might make you second-guess them. "But what if I can’t? What if I never do? And if I don’t….if I never become what they expect then… what am I supposed to do?" You let the question hang between you, raw and uncertain. For a long moment, Shadow Milk Cookie simply walked beside you, his usual theatrical confidence subdued into something more reflective. Then, softly, he said, "A curious predicament indeed." You huffed, rubbing your temples. "I was hoping for something a little more reassuring than that." The edges of his lips twitched maybe in thought. "And what would you prefer I say?" "I don’t know," you admitted. "Maybe something like, 'It’s okay not to have all the answers yet' or 'Your worth isn’t tied to what other people expect of you.'" Shadow Milk Cookie hummed. "Wise words. And yet, you already know them." You frowned. "That doesn’t make it easier." "No," he agreed, "it does not." He slowed his steps slightly, glancing down at you. "But, do you seek greatness for your own sake, or simply to meet the expectations set before you?" You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You hadn’t really thought about it like that before. Shadow Milk Cookie folded his hands behind his back. "Truth is not about meeting expectations, it is about uncovering what is real, even when it is difficult. If you do not know whether you can be what they expect of you, then the first step is to ask yourself  Do you wish to be?" You frowned, staring at the floor as you walked. It was such a simple question. And yet, for all your worrying, you hadn’t considered it before. "...I don’t know," you admitted after a long pause. "And that is also an answer," he said. "For now." You glanced up at him, watching as he walked with the same surety as always. It wasn’t the perfect reassurance you had hoped for. He hadn’t told you that you were going to be great or that everything would be fine.

But maybe that was okay. Maybe just knowing that you weren’t the only one who carried that fear was enough for now. You let the weight of the conversation settle for a moment, the quiet stretching between you both. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy, too heavy for how tired you already felt. So, naturally, you decided to do what you always did when things got too serious. You tried to make a joke. With a sidelong glance at the Sage of Truth, you let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, at least if I do disappoint everyone, I’ll always have a future as a mediocre scholar who somehow manages to set their own notes on fire.” His lips twitched, but he said nothing. Not good enough, huh? You tried again. “Or maybe I’ll start my own school. A sanctuary for all those who are equally confused by magic theory. The Academy for the Terminally Hopeless.” Still nothing. You narrowed your eyes. "Come on. That was at least a little funny." Shadow Milk Cookie hummed, pretending to consider. "Mildly amusing, at best." You gasped, clutching your chest dramatically. "Mildly? Mildly? I’ll have you know that was quality humor, Sage of Truth. You just don’t appreciate my genius." He gave you a sidelong look, his tone entirely deadpan. "Ah, my sincerest apologies. How could I ever fail to recognize the sheer brilliance of the Academy for the Terminally Hopeless?" Finally, finally, you caught the faintest glimmer of amusement in his gaze. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Feeling emboldened, you grinned. "You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first." "Indeed," he said, voice as smooth as ever. "Clearly, I have been bested in wit." "You have," you agreed, standing a little straighter. "I accept your defeat graciously." And then, to your absolute delight, you caught it a quiet chuckle, barely audible, but there. A single note of laughter, gone as soon as it arrived. But you heard it. Your grin widened, victorious. "Ha! You laughed!" Shadow Milk Cookie arched a brow, his expression returning to that composed, knowing look he always wore. "Did I?" "You did!" You pointed at him as if to prove a point. "Don’t try to deny it. I heard you."

"Hmm." He brought a hand to his chin, feigning deep thought. "I suppose there is no use hiding it. Congratulations. A rare feat, indeed." You beamed, feeling lighter than you had all day. Maybe you still had a million unanswered questions about yourself, but at least for now, you had this. And, at least for now, it was enough. As the two of you continued walking, you found yourself mulling over a thought that had been lingering in the back of your mind for a while now. You had never actually asked about his work at the Academy not beyond the occasional observation of his endless studies. You glanced up at him. "So, Sage of Truth… what classes do you even teach?" He turned his head slightly at your question, regarding you with an inquisitive look, as if mildly surprised you had never asked before. "A variety of subjects, though my primary focus lies in advanced magical theory, epistemology, and arcane philosophy. I also conduct special lectures on the nature of truth and perception when time permits." You blinked. Epistemology? You weren't sure why you expected any different. Of course he taught something so lofty. "You know," you said, tilting your head, "I think if I walked into a class like that, I’d pass out immediately." He let out a hum of amusement. "And yet, you sit before me in study, night after night." You huffed. "That's different."

"How so?" You hesitated for a moment before answering, trying to find the right words. "Well… when it’s just us, you explain things in a way I can actually understand. Like, yeah, it still takes me a while to get it, but you’re patient about it. I feel like if I were in a full classroom with a bunch of top scholars, I’d just… get left behind." Shadow Milk Cookie considered your words, his expression unreadable. "It is a common concern among scholars of all levels," he mused. "Many find themselves caught in the pursuit of knowledge without ever truly grasping it." He cast you a knowing look. "But, I assure you, a true scholar does not simply leave others behind they illuminate the path for those who follow." You pursed your lips. "You make it sound so noble." "Because it is noble," he said with certainty. "There is no shame in struggling to learn. Only in refusing to seek understanding." You fell silent at that, letting his words settle. After a moment, you exhaled, shaking your head. "You really do have a way with words, huh?" Shadow Milk Cookie chuckled softly. "One could say it is my profession."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. You supposed it was fitting no one bore the title of Sage of Truth without reason. As the two of you strolled through the Academy’s winding pathways, the towering spires and grand halls gradually gave way to lush greenery. The Academy Gardens were unlike anything else within Blueberry Yogurt Academy an oasis of tranquility, hidden behind arching ivy-covered trellises. The air here smelled faintly of blooming moonlilies and damp earth, a stark contrast to the old parchment and candle wax scent that clung to the lecture halls. Your pace quickened with a newfound energy as you stepped onto the soft mossy paths, leading him deeper into the garden. "Oh, you have to see my favorite spot," you said, excitement creeping into your voice as you turned back to glance at him. Shadow Milk Cookie followed at his usual composed pace, his hands loosely clasped behind his back. "Is that so?" he mused, a glimmer of curiosity in his gaze. "Then by all means, lead the way." You weaved through rows of carefully cultivated flora, past shimmering crystal-blossoms that hummed faintly with magic, and toward a secluded alcove where the willow trees grew just tall enough to form a natural canopy. Sunlight filtered through the leaves in fragmented rays, casting a dappled pattern over the worn stone bench nestled beneath the largest willow tree. The area was untouched by the usual hustle of the Academy quiet, peaceful. Yours. You turned to him with a bright grin. "This is it!" Shadow Milk Cookie took a moment to observe the space, his golden eyes trailing over every detail the arching branches, the way the light flickered over the stones, the gentle hum of magic in the air. "Hmm…" he murmured, stepping forward. "It is… a well-chosen refuge." You beamed. "Right? It's perfect when I need a break from studying or when I just need to think." You ran a hand along the curved back of the bench. "Something about this place just makes everything feel… less overwhelming." Shadow Milk Cookie regarded you for a moment before turning his gaze back to the garden. "Even the most rigorous minds require respite," he said thoughtfully. "A scholar cannot seek truth if they are too weary to perceive it."

You plopped down onto the bench, sighing as you stretched out a little. "That sounds like your way of saying I made a good call." He gave a small, approving nod. "Indeed." You couldn't help but grin, pleased by his acknowledgment. It wasn’t often that you got to be the one introducing him to something new. The fact that he genuinely seemed to appreciate your favorite spot made you feel oddly… validated. As he took a seat beside you still composed, still poised as ever you exhaled, letting the peaceful atmosphere settle between you. It was rare to share this space with anyone, but somehow, the presence of the Sage of Truth didn’t disturb the quiet serenity. If anything, it felt… fitting. You leaned back against the bench, letting the warmth of the dappled sunlight sink into your skin as you glanced over at him. "It's nice, right?" you asked, watching his gaze sweep across the peaceful alcove once more. Shadow Milk Cookie gave a small nod, his golden eyes reflecting the shimmering glow of the enchanted fountain. "A well-chosen retreat, indeed." A small, satisfied smile tugged at your lips before you hesitated, debating whether to bring up what had been on your mind. Finally, you shifted slightly, turning toward him. "So, Sage of Truth" "You may call me Shadow Milk," he interrupted smoothly, his voice as calm as ever, but firm. You blinked. "Huh?" He turned his gaze toward you fully now, expression unreadable. "We are not presently engaged in an academic pursuit, are we?" You shook your head slowly. "I mean, no, but…"

"Then there is no need for formality," he stated simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Your mouth opened, then closed. You weren’t sure why it was so difficult to not call him by his title. It had always felt like a layer of respectful distance a reminder of who he was. And yet, sitting beside him in this quiet part of the gardens, away from the grand halls and towering bookshelves, that distance felt… unnecessary. "...Shadow Milk," you finally said, testing the name on your tongue. It felt strange, almost too casual, like you were stepping into unfamiliar territory. He gave an approving nod, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips. "Better." You exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "If you say so." Though you couldn't quite ignore the way your chest felt a little lighter saying his name not as a revered scholar, not as the Sage of Truth, but simply as him. You crossed your arms, eyeing the towering hat atop Shadow Milk Cookie’s head. After a moment of hesitation, you finally asked, “Have you ever thought about ditching the hat?” Shadow Milk Cookie blinked, as if the question had never once crossed his mind. “Ditching it?” he repeated, tone laced with mild amusement. “Yeah,” you said, tilting your head. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s… impressive, but it’s kind of a lot. Ever thought about just, I don’t know, going without it?” He considered you for a moment, before bringing a hand to the brim of the ornate hat. “Do you think I should?” You shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wonder what you’d look like without it. It’s so big and dramatic sometimes it feels like it walks into a room before you do.” He let out a quiet chuckle. “Is that so?” “I mean, yeah.” You gestured toward it. “Don’t get me wrong, you somehow make it work, but it’s well, it’s kind of goofy.”

“Goofy?” he echoed, raising a brow. You hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. In an… eccentric scholar kind of way.” He exhaled a small hum of thoughtfulness. “I see. And tell me, if I were to ditch the hat, as you so boldly suggest, would I still be recognizable as the Sage of Truth?” You rolled your eyes. “I think your reputation would survive without it.” He smirked slightly. “An intriguing proposition.” His fingers grazed the edge of the hat for a brief moment, before he let his hand drop back to his side. “But I’m afraid it’s not so easily removed.” You narrowed your eyes. “What, is it cursed or something?” He let the question hang in the air for just a second too long before responding smoothly, “Perhaps.” You groaned, running a hand down your face. “Of course you won’t give me a straight answer.” Shadow Milk Cookie chuckled lightly, the glimmer of amusement never quite leaving his gaze. “Would you expect anything less?”

You sat with him for a while, the conversation flowing surprisingly easily. Maybe it was the peaceful atmosphere of the gardens, the cool breeze rustling through the trees, or the way the late afternoon light bathed everything in gold. Whatever the reason, you found yourself actually enjoying this moment not as a student struggling to keep up, not as someone anxiously trying to impress a renowned scholar, but just… as yourself. Shadow Milk Cookie spoke about a fascinating alchemical theory he had been reviewing recently, and you listened, nodding along, even managing to contribute here and there. But as the minutes stretched on, the exhaustion you had been ignoring all day finally began to catch up with you. Your blinks grew longer, your posture slumped slightly, and at some point, you must have let out a small sigh because Shadow Milk Cookie suddenly paused mid-sentence. “…Are you well?” His voice was as composed as ever, but there was the faintest note of concern beneath it. You straightened quickly, rubbing your eyes. “Yeah yeah, I’m fine. Just… a little tired.” He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “A little?” You gave a sheepish chuckle, stretching your arms. “Okay, maybe more than a little. I, uh… might have lost track of time yesterday and forgot to eat dinner. And then today was just kind of… long.” Shadow Milk Cookie hummed thoughtfully. “A scholar should take care not only of their mind but also their body,” he mused. “After all, even the sharpest intellect dulls under exhaustion.” You groaned. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” “Do you?” he asked, the faintest trace of amusement in his voice. You opened your mouth to argue, but honestly, what could you say? He wasn’t wrong. Instead, you let out a dramatic sigh and flopped back against the bench. “Maybe I should just take a nap right here,” you muttered, half-joking, half-serious. “I wouldn't recommend it,” he said mildly. “Unless you wish to wake up covered in stray leaves and curious insects.” You cracked an eye open to glare at him, but he was simply watching you with his usual calm, composed expression. “You have a way of ruining perfectly good ideas, you know that?” “Only the foolish ones.” You huffed but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. Maybe you really did need some rest. You scoffed, leaning back against the bench with a wistful sigh. “It isn’t foolish at all. Napping in the academy gardens is one of life’s greatest joys.” Shadow Milk Cookie tilted his head slightly. “You say that as though it is a truth you’ve tested yourself.”  You let out a soft chuckle, closing your eyes for a moment. “That’s because I have. Plenty of times, actually.”  

His expression shifted into something between intrigue and mild disapproval. “You mean to tell me you’ve made a habit of falling asleep outdoors?”  You opened one eye to glance at him. “Only in the gardens. It’s peaceful, the sunlight is warm, the breeze is cool, and the flowers smell nice. It’s a perfect place to rest.” He folded his arms, his golden key glinting in the sunlight as he studied you. “And what of the potential consequences? You could be disturbed, or worse caught by a professor who may not be so forgiving of such habits.”   You waved a hand dismissively. “Please, if they cared, they would’ve caught me by now.” Shadow Milk Cookie exhaled, shaking his head with something close to amusement. “I see. A scholar of unconventional study methods, are you?” You grinned. “More like a scholar who knows when their brain needs a break.” He regarded you for a moment before relenting with a soft chuckle. “Perhaps you’ve discovered a hidden wisdom in your methods. Though I still maintain that a bed would serve you far better than a garden bench.” You stretched your arms above your head before letting them drop back to your sides. “A bed doesn’t have the same charm.” He let out a hum of contemplation. “Then I suppose I shall simply have to take your word for it.” You smirked. “Or you could try it yourself.” He raised an eyebrow. “I think not.” You laughed. “Figures. You don’t seem like the type to take spontaneous naps in public.” Shadow Milk Cookie gave a small, knowing smile. “No, but I seem to be the type to lecture those who do.” You rolled your eyes playfully but didn’t argue. If anything, this exchange only proved your point that there was something special about resting in the gardens, and you weren’t about to let anyone tell you otherwise.

You let out a yawn, barely covering your mouth in time before blinking sluggishly. It wasn’t even that late, but the weight of exhaustion was finally settling in, making it harder to focus. Shadow Milk Cookie noticed immediately, his observant gaze never missing a detail. “It seems fatigue has caught up with you at last,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “I suggest we call it a day.” You blinked, shaking your head slightly as if to will yourself more awake. “I can still” He held up a hand, his expression calm but firm. “No need to force yourself to push forward when your mind is clearly begging for rest.” You hesitated, glancing away. “But we barely covered anything…and this was supposed to be a short break” Shadow Milk Cookie chuckled softly. “On the contrary, we covered quite a bit…more than you may realize in your current state. There is no rush, after all. We shall continue tomorrow afternoon.” Something about the way he said it made you exhale, tension easing from your shoulders. “Tomorrow afternoon…” you echoed, rolling the words over in your mind before nodding. “Alright.” He gave a small nod in approval. “Good. Then I expect you to be well-rested by then.” You snorted lightly. “No promises.” His lips quirked up in amusement before he gestured toward the academy’s path. “Come now, before you decide to test the merits of napping in the gardens once more.” You let out a small laugh but didn’t argue, pushing yourself up from the bench. As you walked away, you felt that flicker of warmth again not admiration, not flattery, just… something comforting. Tomorrow, then.

You trudged back to your dorm, the evening air cool against your skin, carrying the remnants of conversation and the faint scent of the academy gardens with you. Despite your exhaustion, you felt lighter somehow like the weight of expectations, of self-doubt, of everything that had been pressing down on you had eased, even if just a little. Once inside your dorm, you shut the door behind you and leaned against it for a moment, sighing softly. A full meal didn’t sound all that appealing; your body was more drained than hungry, and the thought of sitting in the bustling dining hall felt overwhelming. Instead, you settled on something simple grabbing a handful of biscuits and dried fruit from the stash you kept in your room. You perched yourself at your desk, absentmindedly nibbling on a biscuit as you stared at your notes from earlier. The words blurred together, and after a few sluggish attempts to reread them, you gave up. You weren’t going to absorb anything like this. Your gaze drifted to the window, where the academy grounds stretched under the evening sky, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. It was peaceful silent but alive in the way the leaves rustled and distant lanterns flickered. You exhaled, letting the tension slip away as you finished the last of your snack and prepared for bed. The moment your head hit the pillow, the exhaustion you had been ignoring all day rushed in at full force. Your limbs felt heavy, sinking into the mattress, and before you could even think about reviewing tomorrow’s plans, sleep overtook you.

A/N I had a pretty lazy Saturday so I spent my morning typing away of course I took breaks guys that's why its posted in the afternoon!!! I had no assignments due today either so more free time for me YIPEE!!! anyways I hope you enjoyed and...

Remember to follow and reblog for more bangers 😎😎😎🔥🔥🔥🔥

<<<Previous Next>>>

[shanastoryteller]

Merry bday! A continuation of Enola Holmes marrying the viscount of Basilweather would be really cool 😀

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

She wrinkles her nose when Tewksbury passes over her cup of tea with two sugars, unstirred, and she knows.

She puts down the cup too quickly, blood pounding in her ears, and Tewksbury frowns, reaching for her hand. "Enola?"

"Got to go," she says, pushing herself to standing, almost just leaves him sitting there, hand outstretched, but he's her husband and she loves him, so she darts over to smack a kiss on his lips before she's running for the door.

"Enola!" he calls out again, but now he sounds less worried and more exasperated, which is better, which is good. There's nothing for him to worry about.

She wants her mother, who's banned from London and is causing political unrest in Southern France currently, or Edith, who's doing something clever and illegal in Scotland. She'd take Victoria, but Mycroft will be there, and he's the last person she wants to see right now. Sherlock, while beloved, is useless, but his boy is a doctor.

She drops in at 221B Baker Street, picking the lock like always, and is relieved that Sherlock is still asleep and decides not to have any opinions on the various bones scattered about the kitchen table. She assumes there's a reasonable explanation for them.

"Oh, Enola!" John grins and shoves some femurs to the side to make space at the table. "Here, join me, would you like some oatmeal? Are you looking for your brother? I can wake him-"

"I'm pregnant," she blurts out, then bites her bottom lip.

John blinks once, then twice, then says with a gentleness that had made her like him in the first place - because Sherlock wanted to be gentle, but was quite bad at it, so someone had to teach him - "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

Wanted seems like not the correct word, although of course it is, because she and Tewksbury had been, not trying, but not-not trying, which probably amounted to the same thing, considering how often they - well.

"I can fix it," he says, voice low and serious, "if it's something that needs to be fixed."

Enola lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "No. No, it doesn't need to be fixed."

She loves that he offered. She loves John, more her brother than Mycroft will ever be, sometimes even more her brother than Sherlock is. If nothing else, her brothers had picked their partners well. Victoria and John are a delight.

John is the functional one between them, explosions and skeletons notwithstanding. John is the one that coaxed her brother into a proper relationship and John is the one that knew they were like parents to all the Irregulars and John isn't normal but he grew up normal.

"Are you worried something's wrong?" he asks. "I can look you over."

"No," she says, although, "I mean, yes, that'd be nice because Tewksbury will go spare, but no, I'm not worried anything's wrong."

He leans back in his chair, looking her over, and after almost ten years of dealing with her and Sherlock and even occasionally Mycroft he can read them almost as well as they can read everyone else.

"It's alright to be scared," he says finally. "Lots of women are when they find out, even when it's wanted, even when the baby's healthy."

"I'm not scared," she says, but for the first time her words feel like a lie. "I shouldn't be scared. What do I have to be scared of?"

She wishes her mother was here.

Will her children miss her like this too?

Sometimes she misses her mother even when she's right in front of her, and if nothing else, she's her mother's daughter.

John gets to his feet, stand in front of her, and opens his arms. She looks away even as she steps forward, like if she doesn't look at him when she does it then it doesn't count as weakness.

His arms close around her. He smells like chai and antiseptic and it's only years of association that make the combination comforting. "I can't wait to be an uncle."

He'll be an uncle. Sherlock will be an uncle. Even Mycroft, and Victoria will be delighted to be an aunt, and to raise her children with Enola's. Of course there's her mother-in-law, and Tewksbury's uncle, who have been angling for her to have a child from the day they married.

There's Tewksbury, who loves her, who isn't going to die on her or leave her if either of them have anything to say about it, who isn't going to leave her to raise their children the way her mother raised her.

Alone.

She's been saying she wasn't going to do this alone from the beginning, but standing here in Sherlock's kitchen, with John holding her steady, she really believes it.

[patchworkcuddlebug]

Good Dolls Don't Lie

(A stand-alone follow-up to Good Dolls Play Pretend)

The cafe was on the top floor of the library. The trip into the city was nice; all you needed was to be told the directions once, and you could find stillness as you travelled.

Before long at all, you reach the top of the steps, and see him waiting for you. He notices you and waves, before getting up from his seat, leaving his coat and bag behind to come and great you.

"Hey! Hey, I'm… really glad you made it. Was it cold?"

You smile, giving him a little curtsy. You tell him you're glad, and that the weather wasn't a problem.

"Oh, right, that... yeah. Doll. That makes sense."

The line for the counter is just a few people long, all of them going to sit to wait for their drinks. As they wait, the person is nervous; he's bouncing on his feet and rubbing the lining of his pants pockets. The doll is still.

"Hi there, how can I help you?" The barista asks with a deliberate smile.

"Oh, I'll just have a hot chocolate."

"Of course. And for the doll?"

"Um…" he looked at you.

You politely give the barista your order, a chai latte.

The barista is surprised when it hears you speak your own order. "Alright, coming right up! Please have a seat." She says in a cheery tone, turning back away from you to address the person.

He leads you to your seat. It's in the corner, giving you a wonderful view of the people below. There are people waiting for the bus, walking along the sidewalk as they talk into their phone, and there's even someone sitting just outside of the library trying to eat a sandwich without taking off his mittens.

You're lost in thought, for only a moment. You think about people, how rich the lives and inner worlds are of everyone you see. Every direction you look has a million people doing a billion different things. Every stranger having struggles you could never have the chance to help with.

"H-hey, so uh..." You turn to face the stammering person across the table. You can tell he's still fidgeting with his pockets. "Thanks for meeting up with me today. You really didn't have to... sorry, is 'you' okay?"

You give a polite nod, telling him you don't mind and thanking him for asking.

"I didn't wanna just assume." He smiles back. "Anyway, uh... yeah. I wanted to apologize about the party, I never would've invited you if I knew about the whole, uh..." He gestures towards you.

You forgive him, and thank him for inviting you, and then for recognizing your discomfort in the moment.

He forced a nervous chuckle. "You're not just, like, saying that, right? I know that like, dolls are polite and stuff, but..." He trails off, looking to you expectantly.

You softly shake your head, and tell him that good dolls don't lie.

He exhales, leaning back in his chair. He takes his hands out of his pockets, one resting on the table as the other glides through his long hair. "Okay, that's... really great to hear. I'm glad."

A call for a hot chocolate and chai latte from across the seating area. You begin to stand. "Oh, let me!" He slides out of his seat, turning to leave, but quickly turning back. "Unless you want to? I can like, let you, if this is a doll thing."

You tell him it's fine. You worry about tone a little too late, and decide to smile at him after he's turned back around. He looks excited to be so helpful. It's the closest he's been to the supportive rock he acted as at the party, when he got to help you.

You look back out the window. The sandwich man's given up and taken his mittens off. His hands look cold.

The person sets your tea down in front of you and takes his place. He watches you as you take a sip, seeming almost disappointed when your reaction is poised and subdued. You quickly take a second sip. You compliment the drink to him.

"Oh, cool! Makes sense you've got a taste for that kinda thing." He doesn't smile much, but he doesn't seem all that nervous anymore. He goes to take a sip of his drink, but sets it back down once the heat reaches his lips.

"So, I know tea is like, a doll thing. Is it... is it a physical thing?" He shrugs, unsure of himself. "Like when people are vampires, and normal food stops being, like, tasty."

You explain that it is simply something you enjoy, and your body lacks the needs of a human's.

"Oh, wow, that... yeah, that totally makes sense." He nods along knowingly, as if your words were more for confirmation that information. "So, uh, did it... sorry if this is a weird question, but did it hurt? I mean, when you, became." He stammers, gesturing vaguely in your direction.

You answer him, saying it was uncomfortable yet relieving, and comment that he seems interested in dolls.

"Oh! Well, like, a normal amount, I think." He adds, talking quickly and just a little excited. "I mean, it's just... interesting right? Just the idea that a person can just... stop being themselves. I mean, like, I get the idea that a lot of dolls say they were never human to begin with, but, just, y'know, the whole... becoming. And everything. It's neat."

You ask him if he's considered it.

He moves around more than this entire meeting up to this point as he considers his answer, talking as if he's desperate to convince you of something, but isn't sure what it is. "I...! I mean, like, who doesn't think about that sort of thing, right? I dunno, I mean, maybe if I was, like, one of those dolls they make from scratch, then y'know, obviously that'd be really cool, but like, I've just got, y'know..."

He trails off. He tries to take a sip of his drink and burns himself again.

You ask him, more clearly this time, if he wants to be a doll.

"I... I mean..." He looks away pensively, his gaze landing out the window. You glance quick, and see that the sandwich-eater has moved, and she has much longer hair than you could see before.

"What are people gonna say?" He shrugs, leaning forward. "I... I've got this whole life as a person. And besides, I... it's not something I really want anyway. I mean, like, you always hear about dolls that always knew, kids that pretended to be dolls on the playground, and I... that's not me. I wouldn't wanna, like... I dunno. I can live with being a person, really, it's not... I don't want it that bad."

You tell him good dolls don't lie.

He almost... flinches, like you touched an exposed nerve. Just beneath the surface, he's fighting off a giddy smile. "Uh, s-sorry, I, uh... yeah, I, I mean... it's..."

You give him a nod, and ask him if he'd like to visit Miss's manor some time. His smile finally bursts to the surface.

. . . . .

The new doll opens the door mere seconds after you knock.

"Oh, sorry, was this one late? It got a little distracted..."

You tell that one that it's fine, and it's perfectly on time. You can't help but peek behind it, only for a moment, seeing the full-length mirror. That wasn't there last night.

"Thank you so much for guiding this one..." The new doll sounds so heartfelt, its voice bubbling with gratitude. "It's... very excited to begin!"

The other doll excitedly follows you out, a spring in its step and a shine in its smile. All of its nervous apprehension cracked and discarded like an eggshell.

[ticklygiggles]

Jelly | Gaming, Aether & Wanderer

Commissioned by @wertzunge

A/N: big thanks to my always special and loyal commissioner MWAH MAX 💕 Thank you for your endless support and patience! I hope you enjoy thiiis 💖

Summary: The jealousy bug has bitten Aether! Luckily, his friends are there for him!

Words: 2.1k

The Serenitea Pot was exactly that, a heaven of serenity.

A sanctuary that Aether had carefully created for Paimon and himself. After their exhausting missions and adventures, they could unwind in this small realm, surrounded by peace and tranquility. It was a safe space where Aether could hide when he didn't feel like traveling, fighting, or seeing anyone at all. A place where he could feel a little down and miss his sister without anyone looking at him with pity in their eyes. 

It was also a happy place. A place where all his friends from across Teyvat could visit and hang out with him, drinking tea and just chatting and enjoying time together. This time, he had invited Gaming and Wanderer to a picnic in his stunning garden.

Wanderer, having visited his Serenitea Pot multiple times before, seemed unfazed, but Gaming, Man Chai, and Mini Durin were impressed, showering Aether with praise and inflating his ego. 

Aether had prepared, (with Paimon’s help, who was rewarded with five sandwiches), a special picnic area. A blanket was spread out on the grass and there was so much food, snacks and candy from different parts of Teyvat that there was barely any room to sit down. As they settled in as they could, Man Chai and Mini Durin started running around, chasing each other playfully. Meanwhile, Aether couldn't help but worry... how would Wanderer and Gaming interact? 

Aether was well aware that they were complete opposites and that Wanderer wasn't exactly the most patient person in Teyvat. However, their pets happened to be the perfect icebreaker. Before he knew it, Gaming and Wanderer were engrossed in conversation, bonding over their experiences with Man Chai and Mini Durin.

Gaming laughed, “Man Chai is always so bright in the morning! Always enjoys waking me up!” 

Wanderer rolled his eyes with a groan. “Mini Durin as well. It's so terribly annoying,” he said, but anyone could see the affection for the dragon in his eyes. “And he eats like he's feeding a small army!” 

Gaming snorted, almost spilling his drink. He coughed a bit, laughing softly. “Man Chai as well!” 

Aether watched them awkwardly, struggling to find a way to join in their conversation. Just as he thought there was a chance to change the subject, one in which Aether could also participate, the two creatures dashed towards their respective owners. 

“Man Chai!” Gaming giggled, gently nudging the little lion onto the blanket, and showering him with scratches in his tummy. Man Chai responded with adorable huffing sounds that Aether could only assume was some kind of laughter. 

“Wanderer~” Mini Durin squealed in delight as Wanderer's fingers wiggled under his chin. Mini Durin kicked his little legs, his wings flapping about as he giggled happily in Wanderer's lap. 

Aether watched the adorable scene unfold before him, and he should have felt happy, delighted that his friends were having so much fun with their pets, right in that place that he had worked so hard for, but... why was he feeling so grumpy?

Aether knew the answer perfectly, but he flatly refused to admit it. It was something extremely stupid and ridiculously embarrassing, and yet, he felt that sensation that made his blood boil and caused his stomach to twist in discomfort…

He was jealous. 

Jealous of a mini dragon and a little lion that looked like a suanni. Jealous because his friends seemed to be having a blast, bonding over their pets while he was left out. Wasn't that a little unfair? Aether had been running here and there in Natlan, he was tired and wanted to sleep for five days straight. Instead, he'd decided to invite his friends over for a fun gathering, but it seemed they were the only ones having a good time. 

Aether knew he was being ridiculous, irrational. Acting like a spoiled child, but he couldn't stop himself from pouting as he nibbled on a sandwich. He should've let Paimon stay; at least she loved being the center of his attention. 

As he nibbled on some fruit and chips, he tried to ignore Gaming and Wanderer's conversation about whose pet was the most ticklish. ‘Trying’ was the key word here. His curiosity was so strong, he found himself listening, pretending to inspect a flower near him. 

“What. Wanderer, are you even seeing how much Man Chai is kicking around?” Gaming asked with a soft laugh as he scratched the lion's belly.

Wanderer huffed, “Are you listening how much Mini During is laughing?” he counterattacked, his fingers wiggling gently under the dragon’s chin, making him giggle brightly.

Aether let out a frustrated sigh, rolling his eyes in exasperation. Who cared which pet was more ticklish, anyway? Certainly, not him. He let out a sigh, his own behavior was making him feel ashamed. He suddenly thought that his friends would really hate him if they knew the thoughts he was having at that moment. 

He knew he shouldn't feel that way and he scolded himself strictly, trying to seem the same vibrant and kind person he always was, watching the scene with a small smile on his lips that didn't reach his eyes. But he couldn't hold on for long and his gaze drifted away from the scene in front of him. 

He looked over a small fountain in his garden, he watched the water fall and somehow made him feel more relaxed. He heard Mini Durin and Man Chai escaping their owners' playful ministrations and they started to run around them, playing catch. 

Aether blinked, his mind suddenly drifting far away, his expression turning a little sad as the memory of his sister's smiling face filled his mind. The chirping of the birds, the running water, the soft whisper of the wind, everything was slowly fading away, he almost didn't hear Wanderer's voice when he spoke to him.

“What's wrong?” Wanderer had asked, but Aether didn't answer, thinking he was talking to Gaming until he felt a soft touch on his knee that brought him back to the two in front of him. 

“Oh, s-sorry,” he apologized, his cheeks blushing pink. “What did you say?” 

Wanderer arched an eyebrow, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression clearly annoyed after Aether ignored him. Gaming, on the other hand, looked at Aether with a soft smile, concern in his eyes. 

“I said,” Wanderer started through gritted teeth. “What is wrong?” 

Aether blinked, shaking his head a little. “Nothing's wrong.” 

Wanderer’s eyebrow twitched. “Okay,” he sighed in exasperation. “Let me rephrase that: why are you jealous?”

Aether's eyes widened, his cheeks turning crimson as he watched the other two. His mouth opened and closed like that of a fish. He didn't know what to say, he didn't really think they were looking at him to notice his feelings. Was he being really too obvious?

“I'm not-” he started, but was promptly interrupted. 

“You are, traveler,” Gaming said with that soft smile that made Aether feel somehow guilty.

He had never felt so humiliated in his whole life. Aether looked away, incapable of meeting their eyes as he thought of something to say, but his brain couldn't form any coherent thoughts, too overwhelmed after being caught red-handed. 

“It's not that hard to say you want tickles, is it?” Wanderer asked and Aether's eyes widened even more as he looked over at him, the warmth of his cheeks spreading down to his neck. Wanderer was looking at him with a grin. “Hit the nail, huh?” 

“That's not-” he was interrupted again. 

“So traveler wants to be tickled too?” Gaming asked with wide, excited eyes. “That's why he's upset? Let's tickle him then!” 

“N-No! That's not what I want, you are- ahahahaha! Nohoho!” His sweet laughter filled the air as Gaming pounced on him, gently nudging him against the grass just like he did with Man Chai, and tickling his belly with both hands. 

Aether laughed brightly, squirming and trying to push Gaming's hands away, but he was too weak, incapacitated by the tickles. And he didn't want it to stop either, at least not yet. 

He felt a rush of happy sensations washing over him like a tidal wave. The heaviness of his heart dissipated as Gaming reassured him with kind words. 

“Traveler, if you wanted to play too, you should've just said so!” 

Aether whined, but a burst of laughter escaped his lips when fingers started to pinch and squeeze his hip bone. His laughter turned more frantic as he twisted from side to side. 

“Oh poor thing,” Wanderer teased with a grin, his hand latched to Aether's hip. “Were you jealous because Gaming and I were talking and you were left out?” 

Gaming gasped, “is that so, Traveler?!” he asked  in genuine concern, making Aether flush even more. “I'm so sorry! Aaah, how could I be so disconsidered?!”

Wanderer chuckled, his other hand latching against Aether's other hip, making him shriek with laughter. “I guess we were very disconsidered, right?” He asked, half-joking and half-serious. “How could we ignore our host in his own home?” 

“N-No! N-Nohoho! AHAHAHA, wahahait!” They were right, but Aether was also at fault and he knew it. There was no need for him to act like a kid, but he did and he knew he should apologize, but he couldn't at the moment. 

He felt his heart fluttering, so embarrassingly happy that his two dear friends were making him laugh and validated, (in their own way), his feelings. He laughed brightly, barely trying to stop them as his hips and tummy were under attack. 

Wanderer and Gaming chuckled softly, watching Aether squirm like a little worm under their tickling. 

Gaming giggled softly. “Traveler truly is ticklish, who do you think is more ticklish, Wanderer?” He asked with a bright smile as if Aether wasn't losing his mind as Gaming's finger wiggled into his belly button. 

Wanderer chuckled again, pinching Aether's hips in a way that was driving him crazy. 

“That is a good question… I would say… Mini Durin is on the top,” he nodded with a grin.  

“Don't be biased,” Gaming giggled playfully, his fingers wiggling and digging up towards Aether ribcage making him cackle and arch his back, his hands desperately trying to get hold of any of the four hands attacking his sensitive torso. “Traveler is clearly the most ticklish.” 

Traveler was positively dying. Gaming was playing with every one of his ribs, rubbing them with his thumbs as if trying to polish them, viciously trying to get the best cackle out of Aether. To his horror, Wanderer had left his hips only to grab his wrists and pull them above his head, exposing his ultimate worst spot to their tickly fingers. 

“NOHOT THEHERE!” He shrieked, although Wanderer was still fighting Aether's hands underneath his knees and Gaming was still pretty busy playing his ribs like some kind of instrument. 

Wanderer chuckled at his plea and Gaming giggled softly. “What? Where? His armpits?” Wanderer nodded, finally pinning Aether hands with his knees while Aether shook his head, laughing frantically in anticipation. 

“He's so ticklish there,” Wanderer commented almost too nonchalantly an Aether shrieked, arching his back as light fingers scribbled against the bare skin of his arms, his elbows causing him to giggle brightly. 

“He's so ticklish everywhere, though!” Gaming laughed, slowly making his way up Aether's ribs until he was tickling that hypersensitive pair of ribs close to his pits and Aether was in stitches.

“He might be,” Wanderer said, his fingers tortuously walking towards Aether's underarms. “But he's the most ticklish right… here!” 

Aether threw his head back with loud bouts of laughter as Wanderer poked the middle of his armpits, a single finger wiggling and digging into that deliciously ticklish nerve that always made him see stars. Soon after, more fingers joined into the tickle fest, not only Wanderer's, but also Gaming's who had reached that dreadful spot as well. 

Four hands tickled his armpits. Wiggling, digging, poking, prodding and pinching into the soft, tender and so very unprotected spot. 

Aether was nearly choking as he laughed into nearly insanity. Tears of mirth streamed down the sides of his face, snorts, squeals and cackles filling the fresh air. He didn't feel uncomfortable at all, even though his legs were kicking desperately and he was pulling at his arms to free them, he felt happy and loved. 

“His face is too red, shall we stop?” Gaming asked with a soft chuckle, seeing that cute expression in Aether's face. 

“He can take a little more,” Wanderer said with a grin. “Right, traveler?” 

Gaming was surprised by the soft nod, but Aether was squealing in delight by the promise of more tickles!

[to-the-stars8]

Vigilant Coffee

Batfamily x Reader Chapters AO3

Comic Con

Comic cons were an interesting experience as a barista. One moment you were serving your usual nurse from the hospital around the corner, the next you were serving a six-foot brightly colored furry. Though it was nearing midnight, the shop was unusually packed. Even your boss, Roger, had decided to stick around to help out—a rare sight in itself.

You were mid-pour on a chai latte when the bell above the door jingled. Roger gasped so loudly that you nearly spilled the drink from fright. At first, you assumed some customer had walked in wearing an over-the-top costume, but then you noticed something else—silence.

The entire place had become eerily still.

Looking up, you spotted him instantly: Batman.

A tall shadow glided across the room, presence commanding, aura unmistakable. The usual hum of conversation was swallowed by wide-eyed stares, expressions flickering between awe and panic. After all, the only time most people saw Batman was when something was seriously wrong. 

You barely blinked. “Didn’t think you’d show up with all these people here,” you said, sliding the finished chai latte to Roger.

Batman grunted.

“Black coffee?”

Another more approving grunt.

By the time you handed him the cup, he was reaching for a five, but Roger—pale as a ghost—thrust his hand between the two of you.

“You don’t need to pay. V-Vigilante discount.”

Roger tried to laugh but died halfway through. Batman only responded by putting the five into the tip jar before gliding out again. The second he was gone, the entire shop erupted into frantic conversation. Roger, still clutching the chai latte like it was a lifeline, let out a breath he must have been holding. You gave his back a comforting pat. The man looked like he’d seen death itself.

“That was actually Batman, right? Not some cosplayer?” he asked, still trying to process.

You laughed a little while nodding. “Yeah, Roger, it was actually Batman.”

“How are you so fucking calm? I think I’m about to have an aneurysm.”

You shrugged. “He’s, like, one of our most frequent customers.”

Roger squinted, staring at you as if you had just sprouted wings. He seemed to be debating whether or not you were serious before finally dragging his hands down his face and exhaling slowly.

“...That’s not something I should put on a sign, is it?” He asked after a second. 

“Not unless you want the Joker to become a regular.”

“Good point,” Roger muttered before shuffling away, still in a daze.

Snickering, you turned to take the next order—this time from someone dressed as Robin. Yeah… maybe you liked cons more than you wanted to admit.

[violetasteracademic]

Velaris Memorial Hospital: Part Three Reveal

Last year, Velaris Memorial Hospital was little seed inspired by the late October leaves. A story of the Archeron sisters and the lives of the Bat Boys entangling in a hospital fraught with a scandal, and deeply inspired by the Tortured Poet's Department and Grey's Anatomy.

The Manuscript: Rhys and Feyre are star-crossed lovers who collide over a dirty pumpkin chai latte. She's a children's art therapist in the cancer ward at Velaris Memorial Hospital, and he's the new owner of the hospital. Their connection is undeniable. Perhaps a thing of soulmates. But with the tangled web of lawsuits and Feyre's unstable ex-fiancé at the center of it all, the mountains between them are higher than the stretch of the Velaris skyline. (Read the first six chapters here.)

The Albatross: Nesta and Cassian share a tense and steamy moment as strangers at a rooftop bar, only to find out they have to team up to save Velaris Memorial Hospital from the fallout of a scandal. Can the director of public relations and head of financial strategy maintain their professional lines while fighting each other and their chemistry? And will the skeletons in their closet and ghosts of their past keep them from being more than just physical? (Read the first three chapters here.)

And now it's time for...

Elain is a labor and delivery nurse at Velaris Memorial Hospital. Despite her chaotic and exhausting schedule, there is nothing she craves more than stability. Set guidelines. She never makes a decision if she isn't certain of the outcome. Newly engaged to Graysen Nolan, she's on track to have everything she ever wanted, even if it doesn't feel exactly how she imagined it would.

Azriel is a world renowned photojournalist on the front lines of war, humanitarian crises, and the parts of life that most people turn away from. He's traveled from country to country and lived out of hotels for years on end. His life is all risk, no rest, and no looking back. But lately, the thrill of the job isn't enough to keep him distracted from the demons he's been running from.

When Azriel takes a six month corporate photography contract to help his brothers rebuild Velaris Memorial Hospital's reputation, he crosses paths with Elain Archeron. On the surface, they couldn't be more different. But as layers peel away, their similar aches and dreams draw them together.

They decide to push each other to try new things and explore different sides of life. But as their connection deepens while time counts down on Azriel's contract, and Elain's fiancé urges her to start planning the wedding, they tow a dangerous line.

Read chapter one of Velaris Memorial Hospital here.

Thank you to @rosanna-writer @tealeaves-and-rosepetals and @yourstarsmyscars for the beta read, and thank you to all the readers who have given this project so much love and support!

Preview below the cut:

Chapter One: I Circled You on a Map

Summary:

Elain's engagement celebration with her sisters takes a turn that might alter more than just the course of the evening.

I haven't come around in so long But I'm making a comeback to where I belong So when I touch down Call the amateurs and Cut 'em from the team Ditch the clowns, get the crown Baby I'm the one to beat Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

This happens once every few lifetimes

Elain

“So…” I said, my hands fidgeting nervously in my lap. His eyes snapped up quickly, as if he was shocked by the sound of my voice. My throat caught, but he smiled softly at me, and something eased in my shoulders. “Where is your favorite place that you’ve ever traveled to?”

His mouth twitched, so slightly I almost missed it. “Coming in with the hard questions first, I see.”

“Really?” I giggled. “I assumed you'd be asked that all the time.”

“Not as often as you’d think,” he replied. There was something sad in his smile. Lonely.

“Okay, so not your favorite. Maybe… the most… memorable? There wasn’t one place that just… struck you?”

I had never been anywhere but Velaris. Beyond my fear of flying, my family didn't take vacations or even go camping before my parents died. My sisters and I never bothered to get cars. Our life in the city was very insular and walkable, and we relied on public transit or ride sharing when necessary. We'd talked about renting a car to go on a road trip, but it never happened. Graysen and I planned for romantic getaways, but our schedules never lined up.

Still, even within my small world, there were places that stuck with me above the others. Certain houses that had particularly beautiful trim and architecture, or streets where the prettiest orange leaves fell on the dark cobblestones, brilliant and striking against the black wrought-iron gates that fenced in the rows of townhomes. Some places just crawl under your skin and take your breath away, even for simple reasons. 

Azriel hummed, considering. I felt it everywhere.

Gratitude rushed over me when the waiter dropped off our drinks at that moment. I needed to focus somewhere else so I didn’t seem like a creepy weirdo who couldn’t stop staring. 

I ordered The Lighthouse, a Virginia Woolf twist on a dark and stormy with lavender bitters. Azriel ordered non-alcoholic beer.

I briefly wondered if I should ask if he was bothered by my drinking, unsure if he avoided alcohol entirely or just this evening. But he clinked the rim of his bottle to everyone’s cocktails and seemed relaxed. Which was a relief, because although I hardly ever drank, I had already decided I was going to get extremely drunk this evening.

When he focused back on me, I noticed his gaze had a sound. It crackled.

“I’d say the place that struck me the most was Trieste,” Azriel finally answered after a few long sips.

“Where is Trieste?” I asked, gulping down my delicious drink garnished with lime, ginger, and a spring of fresh lavender. 

“Italy. But what makes it unique is that it's barely attached to the rest of the country. It’s a small port city on the gulf, on the opposite side of the Adriatic Sea from Venice. It’s like this tiny piece of Italy carved out of the coast of Slovenia, holding onto Italy by a near negligible strip of land.”

I stared at him wide-eyed. I’d never heard of Trieste before. My heart ached to see this small portside city across the sea from the rest of its country. To smell the salt air that only comes from being near that kind of water, and walk along the shimmering coastline with a rich espresso and pastry in hand.

And then, the alcohol must have already gone to my head. Because when I tried to picture the little dot on a map off on its own, on the other side of the sea from Rome and Florence and Naples, I started laughing.

Azriel’s lips sliced into a sardonic grin. God, he was really handsome. More than seemed fair for one mere mortal. Not that I was attracted to him in any meaningful way. It was simply an objective fact.

“What?” he asked, pursing his lips as if he was trying not to laugh at me laughing.

I took a deep breath and regained my composure as best as I could. “You must be quite the contrarian,” I said. At his raised brow, I clarified, “Your favorite place is the part of Italy separated from the rest of Italy? You're a total travel hipster.”

His eyes narrowed, but there was a bright glimmer to them as his lips quirked. “No one has said hipster in over a decade.”

“A hipster would say that,” I said sagely.

He laughed whole-heartedly, and my spine felt like a live wire. I waved at the waiter to ask for another drink.

“Okay…” He rubbed his stubbled jaw. “I see your point. But, counterpoint, part of what makes Trieste so special is how many cultures have influenced it throughout history. In Greco-Roman times, it was a settlement that belonged to the Roman empire. Then it fell under Habsburg rule, then the Austro-Hungarian Empire. It was a free territory for a while, then came full circle and has been incorporated by Italy for about half a century, with countless other influences along the way. In Trieste, you can swim in the sea, visit Roman ruins, Austrian castles, attend a Slovenian theatre, go to a German cafe, or see canals comparable to Venice all in one day. Doesn’t that sort of make me the opposite of a hipster? To choose a place that has so many good things instead of one really niche thing?”

I could hardly breathe as my mind swirled with images of everything he was describing. I also tried to ignore how sexy it was that he knew so much about it and could to describe it in such vivid detail. Not in an annoying mansplaining kind of way, but…passionate. Curious. Deeply observant.

Sexy wasn’t the right word. I certainly was not imagining if that passionate curiosity and observance carried over into… sex. It was just the first word that popped into my head. And I couldn’t happen to think up a better replacement.

“There’s really a city like that?” I asked. It sounded too magical to be real.

“There really is,” he nodded. “I’ll show you the photos I took sometime.”

Heat rushed to the surface of my skin. “Alright,” I said, even though that could never happen.

Within the walls of Rita's, we were safe. So long as we weren't making plans beyond the evening, there was nothing to feel guilty about.

Subscribe on AO3 to keep updated as the story of the three brothers and the three sisters unfolds across Velaris Memorial Hospital!