#i did not know what to draw anymore can you tell

[cheeseceli]

Skz meeting a pretty fan

Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, just a tiny little bit of angst, headcanons

Description: their reaction to meeting a pretty fan during a fan meeting

Warnings: kind of love at first sight trope, delusional, some of them are dramatic, they are all idols, not proofread

A/n: the way it's been over a year that this has been in my drafts | daily click

Bang Chan

He was kinda of tired already so he was zoning out

When he sees you he is like "...oh"

He is so invested in your conversation

If you comment about the production behind the music he will be so happy

Genuinely loves when someone acknowledges his work so his eyes will shine and he will smile so hard while explaining everything to you

He is upset when you need to move on to the next member

Sees you laughing with the other members and he's like 🤨

Wonders what they did that managed to make you laugh that much

Lee Know

He would stare at you

You know when his mouth is open and you can see his eyes shining?

Yeah, that's him right now

You say hello and he would give you his nervous laugh before looking at you again with those stary eyes

I swear he is such a softie

Would listen to every single word that you say, you can tell he is paying so much attention

Autographs something for you and makes a funny drawing as well hoping you'd laugh

Side eyes the staff when they say the time is up

Even when you move to the next member and other fan is talking to him, he would still look at your direction sometimes and get so flustered if you catch him looking at you

Changbin

Starts small talk right away

Will 100% compliment you

You ask him an autograph and he wonders how bad would it be if he gave you his number instead

Like he knows he cannot do that

But maybe if he was sneaky enough...

Doesn't do it by the end but he low-key regrets it for the rest of his life

He will wake up one day after five years and be like "damn I should've given them my number"

And he will make that everyone's problem

The boys can't stand it anymore because they've heard enough about you by now 😭

Convinces himself that he will see you again one day

Hyunjin

He sees you before you see him, so he is panicking

Is looking at the line all the time wondering if you will want to talk to him

Asks han if his hair looks good before it's your turn to talk to him

No but fr, he can't take his eyes off you

When you start talking he is like 😯

You look and sound like an angel, he must be in heaven

Even after the fan meeting he can't stop thinking about you

If he's feeling bold enough, he will definitely flirt with you

Low-key forgot he was an idol and was ready to risk it all for you

Han

Might believe in love at first sight after your meeting

Compliment him once and he will get so shy

Like sir, weren't you the one flirting like two seconds ago🤨

Would feel so betrayed if he isn't your bias LMAO

He has like a minute and a half to convince you he's the best stray kids member and he WILL try that

And he hopes that someone will record his flirty antics and post it on tiktok just so he can find your socials

He will make all the boys stalk the internet to try to find you

"but you can't contact them even if you find their account, so what's the point?" idk bro but he wants to see you again somehow

Felix

SUCH A FLIRT

The moment he looks at you he is already trying to win your heart

Kinda forgot he was an idol pt.2

Except he didn't forget

He just doesn't care

He wants to flirt with you and that's precisely what he will do

Will even flirt through his autograph if he can

Uses any kind of excuse to make physical contact with you ✨

And side eyes the staff when they tell him it's time to move on

Like no it's not??

Seungmin

Actually pretty good at hiding his new crush??

The most normal one out here surprisingly lol

He will be able to cover it up as just "good mood" but let's be for real

It's because of you

Anyways

Will smile so much

If you compliment his smile (please do!) he will get shy but so so happy

Also steals glances when you go to the next member

He'll be talking to the next fan but ends up laughing because of something he heard you say to another one of the boys

The fan is like ?? but Seungmin is able to play it off

I.N

So dedicated to give you a good impression

If you tell him your favourite skz song is one of his solos (or that your favourite has that title because of his vocals) this man is in heaven

Forgot he was an idol pt.3 except he didn't forget

He just lowkey very lowkey didn't want to be an idol in that exact moment

Had it been on any normal occasion he would probably try to charm you over

But this was his job

He couldn't possibly get delulu over a fan 😭 although he was already midway to that

Ends up covering a song you said you thought would fit his voice

Sees the comments of the cover wondering each one of those were yours

Masterlist | you'll probably like: unrequited love

Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji @jinnie-ret @sheraayasherrecs

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto | Images 1, 2 and 3

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Drowning his sorrow until he forget

Warning ⚠️; Alcohol abuse, grief, Shanks getting drunk Spoiler for Red

Pairing; Shanks/Male!Reader

Summary; After such tragedy, Shank came to your island, to your bar in the hope of forgetting. You can only watch him lose himself in your bottles as he denies the reality. You can do nothing, but watch and listen.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The rain fell heavily against the window and the wind howled outside. As you dried your glasses, you watched the trees bend with each blow from the wind, wondering if they would break. Sometimes, lightning would strike, illuminating the sky before thunder would follow and you'd feel its rumble deep in your chest.

For a moment, you wondered if the sky was crying, grieving someone.

But it was ridiculous. The sky was just the sky, it had no feeling and no one would be important enough for it to cry. Yet, you felt a heaviness on your shoulders. Something had happened and you just didn't know what yet.

Your eyes fell on the Den Den Mushi and your mind turned to Shanks. It had been a while since you had seen him. Your lover, your boyfriend… he was something more, something that had no word. Yes, it had been a while since the last time he had come to see you.

Maybe you should give him a call, make sure everything was alright?

You didn't had to. The door to your pub opened abruptly even if it was locked. You turned your head, ready to curse and throw the intruder out only to be met with Shanks. The man stood tall, soaked to the bone. For the first time, you felt fear looking at him. His eyes were dead, empty and you knew, you just knew something bad had happened.

- “Shanks?” Your voice shook as you stepped from behind the counter and walked up to him. “What…”

- “I need a drink. The strongest you got.” He replied, walking pass you as if he didn't truly see you.

You blinked and turned to watch him sat at the counter, head low. You looked outside, expecting the rest of the crew, but there was no one else. You closed the door and went to serve Shanks.

Drink after drink, Shanks emptied your bottles with no sign of the alcohol affecting him. You tried to talk, make him tell you what happened, but the red-haired man stayed quiet. At some point, you took his wrist in your hand and squeezed it. Shanks’ empty eyes looked at you, through you.

- “Shanks, what happened?” You asked slowly, thumb drawing circles on his skin. “Talk to me, you worry me right now.”

- “Nothing. Nothing happened.” Shanks told you, but there was sadness in the emptiness of his voice.

- “Clearly, something did happen. Is the crew alright?”

- “They are all fine.”

You grew frustrated but said nothing. Whatever happened, it impacted Shanks like nothing else before, but if it wasn't the crew who was it? Luffy? No, if something had happened to him you would know, every papers, everyone would be talking about.

It wasn't Ace or White Beard, the anniversary of their death wasn't close.

Besides you and Luffy, Shanks didn't had anyone else…

His daughter.

Uta.

You felt your blood turn to ice at the thought of something happening to his daughter. She was his treasure and he did and sacrificed so much for her. You couldn't imagine a world were she wasn't there even if she must be angry at him.

Your eyes met Shanks’ and he looked down on his drink before he drank it all in one gulp.

Yes. Something had happened to Uta.

- “Uta… its Uta isn't it?”

Under your fingers, you felt him tensing up. It wasn't flesh under your touch, but stone. Shanks’ eyes turned dark, darker than you ever saw, even if it only lasted for a second before sadness replaced it, then emptiness again. He shook his head and freed his wrist from your grip as he took the bottle and drank from it.

- “Uta is fine. She is fine… she’s always going to be fine.” Shanks mumbled like a broken disk.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, resting your chin against his head and closed your eyes. You had no words, not knowing what to say anymore. His reaction was all you needed to know you were right, but his made it impossible to know just how bad the situation was.

Was Uta alive?

Was she... dead?

In your embrace, you felt Shanks relax, melt even as he rested his head against your chest. You passed your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. And for hours you stayed like that, Shanks drinking in your arms and you just cuddling him, trying to make him feel better.

As he got drunker Shanks began reminiscing about the past. Like the day he found Uta, the same way Roger had found him. His first meeting with Luffy and the day he introduced Uta to him. The first time she sang, the day she ate her devil fruit and all the little things he was proud of her.

You felt his shoulders shake before you realized he was crying. You held him tighter, nuzzling your nose in his hair and closed your eyes, just letting him talk. Shanks let go of the bottle he was drinking, his hand finding your arm and he squeezed it, hard. Hard enough that you knew he would leave a mark.

- “It's my fault. Always my fault. I just fuck up all the time and hurt her when I just want to protect her.” Shanks whispered, voice breaking through his sobs.

You held him tighter, hands clenching at his clothes. He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder, now crying silently and you knew. You just knew.

Uta was no longer alive and, somehow, Shanks was part of the reason.

You didn't had to ask how or what happened to her, Shanks told you himself. He explained about what she did, what she wanted to do and how she ate that damned mushroom that prevented her from sleeping. She had refused the antidote and broke the bottle.

A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of sweet Uta doing all that, plunging people in a deep sleep and controlling them with her singing. It was horrifying and so much unlike her. But it had been years since you last saw your stepdaughter after all. People change as they grow up.

But Uta?

You looked down, taking in the poor state in which Shanks was. Empty bottles surrounded the both of you and your reserve was now almost completely empty, but you didn't care. You brushed your fingers in his hair and Shanks looked up at you, eyes as red as his hair and puffy.

- “It wasn't your fault, Shanks. Uta was a grown woman, she knew better. She was old enough to make her choices.” You said, trying to keep your voice soft. Shanks tried to speak, but you put a finger on his lips to keep him quiet. “You made your choices and they had consequences, yes, but they didn't put her in danger. You kept her safe, safe away from the Gorosei and the World Government, but also from your enemies. Should you have told her the truth? Maybe, but she was a small child Shanks. She would have taken it like she was a monster.”

Your fingers brushed his lips and cheek and Shanks nuzzled his face in your hand. You stroke his cheek with your thumb, resting your forehead against his as he closed his eyes.

- “I am sorry. So, so sorry my love for what happened to her, but you did your best. You are a good dad.” You said, lips brushing against his. “At last, in the end, she forgave you. She loved you as much as you loved her.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks and you dried them. Seeing Shanks so sad, so broken, you hated it. You wanted to wrap him in a warm blanket and keep him in your arms forever. But you couldn't shield him from the pain of losing his child. You could only offer him support.

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him. Shanks wrapped his arm around you, hand squeezing your hip.

- “C’mon. Enough drinking for now, because I don't have much left for you. Let's get you a warm bath, you are in need of it.”

Shanks nodded and didn't resist when you led him upstairs. You made sure the water was hotter than warm, pouring in oils and bubbles for him to relax. You helped Shanks in after undressing him, your fingers brushing over some bruises as he sat in the bath.

His expression was still empty, broken and you knew it would be a long journey for him to get better. You thought about closing the pub and following him on his adventures. Maybe by being by his side you could help him.

You took your time washing Shanks’ body and hair. All that time, your lover said nothing and just looked down. His body was tense, muscles hard as if he was ready to bounce and fight, but there was no danger. You massaged his shoulders and slowly, Shanks relaxed once again.

You gave more attention to his missing arm, massaging what was left of it. Your fingers traced the scars and you remembered the day he came to you, hiding it as if you would think less of him. You had, of course, been horrified at first, thinking something horrible had happened. But when he told you the story, you had only laughed.

As you massaged what was left of his arm, Shanks turned his head and looked at you. He had a small but soft smile on his lips as if he was amused. You looked at him, chuckling.

- “What?” You asked with a chuckle

- “Sometimes I feel like you love that arm more than me.” He said, drunk, but clearly amused.

You flicked his forehead and laughed.

- “Its part of you, you idiot. Of course, I love it as much as I love you.” You replied, caressing his neck.

Getting Shanks out of the bath proved to be one hell of a task. He was drunker than earlier, the alcohol finally catching with him, meaning he was as graceful as a tree rolling down a hill and so limp it was like holding a plastic bag full of water.

But you managed to dry him up and get him to bed. You wrapped Shanks like a sad burrito in warm blankets before laying down next to him. Shanks had closed his eyes, but you could tell he was still awake.

- “I am not going anywhere.” You whispered, fingers brushing his face. “Give me a few days to close the pub and I’ll follow you.”

That got Shanks attention and he opened his eyes. They were clouded by alcohol, but also hopeful. You smiled, fingers brushing his lips as he spoke softly.

- “Really?”

- “Yeah. You, me, the crew… up for a new adventure. Been years since I took off, you'll have to give me some slack and a place in your bed.”

He laughed. A true laugh coming from deep in his chest as he nodded. Pulling his good arm out of the burrito, he took your hand and you squeezed it gently.

His heart and soul were broken, but you were hopeful he would get better soon. You fell asleep at the same time as him, knowing you made the right choice.

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

November 24: The Black Lake | word count: 786 | @wolfstarmicrofic

Nearly the entire population of Hogwarts is enjoying the warm summer weather on the grounds. Most of them are crowded around the shores of the Black Lake, talking with friends, splashing in the water, or tossing a ball back and forth. It is entirely too loud, but Remus won’t turn for the castle while the warmth of the sun warms the chill in his bones and the clear air fills his lungs.

He sighs and shifts his back against the rough bark of the tree, abandoning his textbook for a moment to watch James and Sirius. They are on the shore of the lake, shirtless, and wrestling in the shallows. At one point, they had a frisbee, though Remus doesn’t see it anymore. Though he can hardly focus on anything else when Sirius is right there. Sirius, who has water droplets scattered across his torso, catching the light and drawing Remus’ eyes in, no matter how much he tries to pull them away.

He is helpless but to watch as Sirius’ head falls back in a laugh, exposing the pale column of his throat. There is a primal part of him that wants to burrow his nose into the crook of his neck and breathe in his scent. Remus desperately needs to know. Does he smell like the scent that always surrounds him, or is that just his cologne? He probably smells really good, like something earthy. Sandalwood maybe, or maybe even something smokey, like tobacco?

He feels heat rush to his cheeks, and forcefully tears his gaze away, burying his nose in his book instead. He’s being foolish. Sirius would never look twice at him that way. Not only is he dangerous halfblood werewolf, but he is a boy. Even on the off chance that Sirius did feel the same, Remus could never risk their friendship, one Sirius would probably be better off without anyway. So he will admire from afar, admonishing himself every step of the way. It’s better this way. It’s better than broken hearts and lonely nights. He doesn’t care how selfish it is. If he can’t have Sirius in the way he wants, he will take whatever he can get.

“Enjoying the view?” Lily asks, leaning against the tree next to him. He hadn’t even noticed her approach. See, this is a problem. There is a war going on. If he is too focused on his stupid crush on Sirius, he could compromise not only himself, but whoever he is working with.

“Bugger off.”

“Still?” She gasps. “Remus, it’s been years.” She slides down the tree until she is sitting next to him.

“I know, Lils. I’m pathetic.”

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

"We've had this conversation before, Lils. I know you are trying to be supportive, but he's straight."

“What if he isn’t?”

He scoffs. “Are we looking at the same person? Sirius is the straightest boy I know.”

“You said that about James.”

“Yeah, well, I’m right about this one.” He insists. She should know better than to get his hopes up like this. It will only lead to him crying alone in the middle of the night over an unrequited love. Like Echo and Narcissus, one forever forced to live in the shadow of the other who would never look twice and the former.

“Remus…”

“I’m not going to risk him looking at me like I’m repulsive. I’d rather live in ignorance.”

“You never chose ignorance.”

“This time I do.”

“Well, if we are jumping to conclusions today, I also have an unrequited crush.”

“You do?”

“Well, you see, I could ask her, but… you know, I might be disappointed by the results of doing so.”

“It’s different and you know it.”

“Really? How so?”

“She’s not your friend. And you’re not a werewolf.”

“Come on, Remus. You have to get over that.”

“Get over it?! I have to live with this forever Lily! I can’t just… just forget about it.”

“You may not be able to forget about it, but you can’t use it as an excuse. If I used being muggleborns as an excuse, I would hardly be the top of our class, would I? No, instead I used it to prove them wrong about their base assumptions toward me. You are more than a stereotype, Remus. And if Sirius can’t see that, then he isn’t the one for you.”

“Sometimes, you are a bit too perceptive, Lils.”

“That’s why I’m your best friend, because I don’t let you feed me the same lies you feed everybody else, including yourself. You have to stop hiding behind these walls, Remus, otherwise you will be stuck right here for the rest of your life.”

[helplessautomaton]

WC 876

addon to the last post abt yandere daisuke,, sorry gang i lowkey forgor. also, i dont think i can keep using ingame screenshots for the header so i might ditch that because i don't want to use outside sources. tbf i could just draw my own for that- anyways!

i straight up forgot about the please aspect and did not take advantage of that! mightve gotten cared away, apologies hehe, also this is my last post for today, sorry

~

its gonna start off slow with daisuke, he just wants praise from the people around him who know better! he just wants to know hes doing a good job so please tell him he is. as his obsession starts to grow hes unaware of his expression with his eyes. staring at you, expecting— wanting praise, just to give him that extra boost. as time progresses along with his attachment towards you, no matter what part you have in the crew, he tries to help you. his cheery smile making it hard to resist and say no. gently grabbing your hands while you two take a break, blabbering on about he managed to do and going off topic about whatever. all this while he has a golden smile directed at you, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners to match.

when you hang around swansea and daisuke, you semi-jokingly praise him to give him more of a boost. its sends him over the moon to know hes doing right by you! swansea makes little teasing comments when daisuke is out of ear. as he starts to get more conscious of his obsession with you, he acts on it more knowingly. trying to push the buttons he know works even when its starting wear off and you hesitantly go along with it.

he wants to share his happiness you give to him, he wants to see you happy. at this point you are his world and hes not willing to give that up to anyone. even if it makes him a little uncharacteristicly harsh to the other crew members. he doesnt risk what he doesnt have to, even if curly or anya warm up to you the same way he originally started out. thats not to say it tugs at daisuke and makes him annoyed, he knows its not irrational but for jimmy he is justified if he dares to try anything. i feel like he would over look or straight up not notice if swansea treat you very slightly better because lets be honest, hes probably getting that same deal as well. theres so much daisuke wants to do but due to the environment he cant, but him stealing a packet or two of sugar just for you can make up for it.

really at this point, daisuke is at your beck n call whether you want it or not, hes so attached he refuses to let go. hes still his usual self when hes only with you, optimistic and bright eyed. even if swansea is hitting him in the back of the head to make him focus. but during this point everyone is starting to notice daisuke's behavior and the frustration sets in. even if curly tries to redirect him back to speed, daisuke needs you. attempting to praise him just to get him to do his job wont exactly work if you have to speed off to your intended chores. jimmy's comments start to become more sharp as he glares at the both of you while all you can do is look away, really just not wanting this either.

after the crash, he uses his tears to just get something, mostly he wants reassurance to refresh his optimism. especially when he gets drunk on the mouthwash, he cant help it, hes still doing a good job despite it all, right? he tries his best to keep you content in anyway shape or form, even if it means hiding you away from everyone for a little while. afterall, what can he do anymore. so please, just let him make you smile for sometime before the situation breaks back through to reality.

//

"daisuke can you please keep on? youre doing a wonderful job we can go on a break soon." you try to charm your way through, swansea was getting more snappy at the both of you. daisuke's let his smile takeover, his eyes crinkling, nodding he continues under whatever swansea needs him to do. the tension in the room was clear, your jaw was tensed up, this had been the 6th day you had to do this. you worked beside anya not swansea, yet daisuke needed you or else youd be hearing complaints from 4 people of the crew out of 5. you werent even paying attention to the way either swansea or daisuke worked on whatever they were working on, yet daisuke called out to you. "alright i think we got it all done for now, swansea said im good to get on break now."

you sighed slightly and let daisuke lead the way, joking and telling you whatever crossed his mind. "i was doing a good job right?" his quiet voice snapped you back to where you were at, stopping just in time so you didnt accidentally knock over daisuke. "uhh,, yeah, it did look like you were, um, working hard! just keep doing what swansea wants you to do."

daisuke looks over to you, watching you carefully with his eyes before he breaks out into a usual smile and carries on with going into the lounge.

[roxannepolice]

Figured I might try rambling about how wonderful the DW s3 finale trilogy is, all with some screencaps that get it best

All screencaps from QuiteUnlikely.net

I've rambled about this before, but this shot is some ancient philosopher with his twink boytoy arrangement (think Socrates with Alchibiades or Aristotle with Alexander). Just. Obsessed with the Doctor being in supplicant/trainee position here.

Much binary code has been spilled about how Martha and Jack should be absolutely pissed about the Doctor wanting to "care for" the Master, and rightly so, but the moment Martha realises professor Yana might be a Time Lord is freaking everything. Just look at her. She's forcefully keeping herself from exploding with joy at the idea the Doctor might not be alone anymore, keeping in mind how she actually sat there and listened to him waxing about Gallifrey. It's the same energy she gives when she finds out the Doctor found Rose. I understand the pleasures of vindicativeness but my girl Martha Jones has the emotional capacity of the Pacific. Same goes for Jack. That guy went through everything the Master put him through over the YTNW and still decided his dying words should be letting the Doctor know his husband is out there. Struggling through radiation poisoning to get him a date was the least the Doctor could do in return.

Just sir Derek Jacobi acting porn.

There is a repeating choice in camerawork where the Master is shot from below and the camera turns around him, especially when he's surrounded by the Toclafane. Gives the viewer an excellent sense of vertigo that makes you feel you're inside his crazy pretty head.

I am absolutely obsessed with visual choices in the TenSimm phonesex scene. Just, the sudden sense of intimacy between them, underlined by the Master taking out his private phone? The Doctor stepping away from Martha and Jack for the talk? The way he conspiratorialy lowers his head for asking the Master out for a date talking about how they might just be together in whatever way, fighting across the galaxies if that's what he wants? Amazing.

This moment is amazing and not discussed enough probably because the fandom is too busy finding hidden meanings of winning and losing in thoschei context to appreciate what's explicitly laid out before them. Like, you can just tell the Master knows the Doctor's there but still waiting for the proper order of moves in this fucked up game of chess they are playing (and also actually focused on his plan in which the Doctor is just one element and not the focus). Meanwhile, the Doctor's all oozing determination right before he states his claim in the game: I'm not here to kill him. I'm here to save him. That's it. He knows how difficult it will be, but he will win the game by "saving" the Master. Both from others and himself. In this very simple, very explicitly laid out context, the Master dying rather than getting "saved" by the Doctor is... well, let's call it a draw.

Just an apprecitation of David Tennant's acting here. You can see this does not come easy to the Doctor. You can see he feels the weight of forgiving the Master. You can tell he really did suffer for himself and others like the Christ figure he is over the year. At the same time, the arrangement of his hands on the Master's body is so overwhelmingly protective. He knows what he's about to say is horrible.

Ok, this scene was backward engineered. RTD just really wanted thoschei to hold hands under his run. There's a reason this moment keeps being giffed as them actually reconciling and that's the author wanting it to feel like this. At the same time, the little alone moment the Doctor and the Master get on the ground is wonderfully crafted. The Master going into grandiose Paul Atreides' He who can destroy a thing has the real control of it mindset while the Doctor just calmly calls his bluff and talks him down because he really does know him. A contrast to the chaos going on oboard the Valiant. Followed by what would be mistaken for aggressive sex in the wild if you got just a teensy bit drunk.

Just appreciation of Jack holding the Master by his collar like a naughty cat that won't let his nails get trimmed :3

Look at him. Look at the impossible warmth in the Doctor's eyes. This bitch is so freaking hopeful. His mind in already in the space of cuddling with freaking enormous Flemish giant rabbits on Teletubby planet he and the Master are going to engage in.

OK, this moment. This moment. Lucy seriously doesn't get due appreciation as a character. Judging from the comments on my "Lucy adopted the Master because he reminded her of her cat" staute more eternal than bronze post, a lot of people don't like the idea she was just hypnotised into working with the Master and quite right too. No, this is a woman who enjoys power, who gets all ears when she's called "the power behind the throne". This is also someone who has witnessed the last remnants of humanity cannibalising themselves into murderballs, abandoning all hope for better future. End of the day, it's all going to end and the end will not be pretty. It's also someone who suffered a year of abuse from someone she actually loved and does not have the 900 years of witnessing all sorts of horrors the Doctor has. But just look at the calmness with which she gives the gun to Jack. She just did what needed to be done. When the Doctor says the Master "corrupted" Lucy, it's... well it's not exactly that he's wrong, but it's not the case of "oh, just an innocent dainty girl who met a bad man", it's more the case of "If you take a life do you know what you'll give? Odds are you won't like what it is". Contrary to what some writers would have it, DW's stance on violence isn't "guns are baaad, m'kay", but it is "once you've ended a life, it changes you as a person", hence aside from "nooo that's mah husband :(" the Doctor stopping Francine killing the Master, while the latter goads her to it, come on, you have it in you, just as I did the first time around way. The Master gave Lucy an opportunity to kill. Now she's just going along with it. Killed by the monster of your own making, if that ain't the story of the Master's life.

Ok, ok, ok, the pieta. Because this is the freaking pieta, with the Christ figure holding up the Satan figure. How much more blasphemous can you get? How much deeper into the essence of mercy can you get?

There can never be enough said about the Doctor's reaction to the Master saying he'd rather die than be imprisoned by him. Yes, there's the level at which he has a backup plan AND THAT CANNOT BE EMPHASISED ENOUGH, but from the Doctor's perspective? That's the Master denying everything he is, rather than just granting him the experience of another Time Lord - especially this Time Lord - by his side. That here, thank you mr Tennnat, is pure devastation. It's the one possibility the Doctor never took into account. The one rule of the game he never considered valid.

But on the other hand, this here? This here is the Master genuinely surprised and almost sympathetic of the Doctor, on the account of focusing on all the good times they had together, all the times they together achieved things they never could seperately I mean leaving aside the Axon incident being one of the meanest things the Doctor ever did to the Master, tee hee. He seriously never expected the Doctor to hold these memories fondly, to actually think of him fondly. That's the juxtaposition to him enumerating all the times the Doctor's beaten him earlier in the episode. For him, it's always only about the objective winning. For the Doctor, it's been at least partially about the relation. The way his eyes venture of the Doctor's face? That's surprise and sympathy. But of course, not strong enough to change your mind when you do have a plan B.

The Master's so playful. So playful when he says the "I win!" line. He knows the Doctor. He knows his stake in the game was to "save him". Dying is the only way left for him to at least not loose. But for the Doctor it became so much more, and he didn't even realise when.

This is the face of the man who wants it to still be a game and still denying just how much real the things are getting. Look at him, he's ready to mirror the Master's playfulness the moment he gets a chance.

Bless you, mr Simm, for just how bloody peaceful you look here. For looking like you've just had the first peaceful sleep in centuries. You look like a freaking doll.

Oh yes, we will appreciate the burying your face in the other's hair here. To quote the brilliant line from a tensimm fic by @theprodigalpragmatist y'all need to read, A mourning wail. A mammal unburdened with consciousness prodding the limp form of its mate and finding no response, crying out to gods it couldn’t conceive of. A defeat.

And of course, the downturned lips of mr Tennant mourning and dutifully accepting the Doctor's deepest defeat to date. This man's still thinking of the fun he'd have pressing Flemish gaints' fur to mr Simm's round face.

The choice to include the wink to the audience that the Master is in fact just fine right at the moment when Martha leaves and the Doctor is alone in the TARDIS is briiliant. Oh yes, just gimme that God descends to the bottom of hell's frozen lake and finds Satan to pick them up feel.

[cherrywperson]

yapperbert bertrotting

[starflungwaddledee]

some rather strong first impressions were made.

required reading for the magical "voice" headcanon and another for starstruck's signature in particular. asked by @trainerbob23 !

[bmpmp3]

post ankle-twisting clarity

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

hmmmm having angsty Lights Out thoughts

[introspectivememories]

so fucking glad that big biceps bernard is back

[rivrdin]

For Your Thoughts IR ‘Penny’ bred by Talamh Rivir Stud, ridden by Gia Finney

12.04.24 Irish Sport Horse April Snapshot - Florida Eventing Qualifying Show 3rd Place, XC @bridlepath-sims

[yelloworangesoda]

gotta get off the internet and only interact irl with people who were 30 before they got their shit together i cant keep doing it like this

[chainsawworld]

Most uncomfortable extra maths support period of my life g-ddammit

[ragnars-tooth]

I should not have been taught so badly for 3 years that i genuinely have to google how to find job postings in my field. "Get a degree!! Get a degree!!" for why. To be laughed at by out of touch tutors and not taught anything? It's certainly not going to help me get a job because i CANT FIND THEM. "People will see you went here and that will give you credibility." Will it roderick. Because I now know not to trust a motherfucker who went here 💀

[cheer-nympho]

Steve had been conned into chaperoning the kids to a ren faire.

Admittedly with very little resistance, but he was keeping that to himself. Once there and with their bags packed away into some apparently theme appropriate tents he had shrugged on some medieval casual clothes and…immediately lost track of all of them,

But a figure he did spot was a long haired Jester entertaining a small entourage with juggling,

Steve finds himself laughing slightly condescendingly at the jingling man. Why do people find juggling so impressive?

He picked it up straight away with some hackey sacks while bored between practices. He’s just good with his hands.

When he looks back up to get another glance in however, the jester isn’t perched on top of his little rock anymore and the crowd has merged with the other dweebs.

Steve stares at the empty space for a moment before a jingle right by his ear spooks him into turning around.

“Art thou not impressed by my amazing skills, your lordship?” The jester asks, swaying on his feet and causing the bells all over him to ping, grin wide and mocking.

And up close Steve notices one very important, very dangerous thing.

This court jester is really fucking hot.

He looks like an idiot, a nerd, a dweeb. Its hard not to in a pointy hat. But he also wore it too well, looked too perfect like that.

Steve notices the…is that..? Yes, the corset wrapping tightly around the mans waist, red and black diamonds decorating the sides and leading to small puffy shorts. His legs are covered in tight black leggings which should look ridiculous. It should.

An obnoxious cough and head tilt-jingle make Steve aware that he has been staring at the mans waist for way longer than was ‘bro code permitted’

He looks up with a wince, expecting a look of disgust ranging from mild embarrassment to punch-your-lights-out.

He was, instead, greeted by a smug and knowing smile. The red and black triangles painted over the mans eyes warped where the grin reached them. “Or maybe thou art impressed, but skills are not what draw thine eyes.”

Shit. Fuck. The stupid hot nerd is using stupid nerd speak on him. And Steves stupid nerd, apparently ‘very accurate’ pants are getting tighter. He needs to say something. Anything.

“You’ve got…bells.” Okay, maybe not anything. He used to be better at this shit.

He is rewarded with a wild, joyous laugh as the jester throws his head from side to side. “I do! Isn’t it amazing?The staff insisted on it so they could hear me coming.”

“It certainly makes an impression-“

“Eddie, names Eddie. And what does my lordship go by?”

“Steve is fine.”

“That he is…” The comment was punctuated by a less than subtle glance, almost a leer. “However, Fine Steve seems unimpressed with my merrymaking. As the official court jester, I cannot let that stand.” He stamps his foot, causing another cacophony of jingles.” “Therefore…”

“…Pick a card any card!” A pack of standard cards was presented to him with a flourish, but all he could do was roll his eyes.

“Come on, really? This shit is basic. All I have to do it watch your hands. You’ll swipe my card out and put it back in later, or mark it somehow.”

“Ooo his highness has it all figured out doesn’t he. Well then, princess, you have nothing to lose by picking a card, do you?” And that was…true. Plus he could maybe try to fix his previous fumble and try to claw a number out of this disaster.

So with another bitchy roll of his eyes, Steve plucks a card from the deck and hides it behind his palm. Two of Hearts.

Then out of nowhere… “You know, Stevie, if you think I’m pretty you can just tell me. I know the kingdom would approve not of a noble like yourself marrying a commoner like me, but they need know little of how we…” He begins to reshuffle the cards, motioning for Steve to place his chosen one back in before making some very obvious, very crude movements with his fingers. “…get to know each other in the meantime.”

He was going to die. In the middle of a nerd fest.

“Well, my lord…” Eddie continues, circling him while dragging a finger across his arms and shoulder blades before coming to a stop in front of him. A very bold hand takes Steves jaw and forces his head up, pretending to inspect something on his costume for any bystanders.

“If you would like some more…close up demonstrations…” He leans in tightly, still holding Steve’s jaw in a tight grip. “You can pay me a visit in staff cabin 23 tonight.” He strokes a piece of hair gently behind Steve’s ear before pulling out a card, as if from said ear.

Steve was glad that Eddie took the initiative to carefully pull his hand up and place the card into his palm, because currently Steve was too preoccupied with staring like a fish out of water into Eddies eyes. Everything about him was just so captivating, so alive.

Maybe that’s why he did little more than step forward aimlessly, with small grabby hands when Eddie pulled away. Before Steve could even process it, the bells and jingles had mingled back into the crowd. But that was…that was okay. Cause he could go to the…cabin?

But how was he supposed to- Oh. He looks down. On the card was a loosely clipped room key with a ‘23’ crudely engraved into the edge as if by a pocket knife.

The card itself, to his horror, was the Two of Hearts.

Shit.

He forgot to watch the fucking hands.

[uraveragelonelysapphic]

Lavender

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Nature had always been your life. How fitting that it could now cause your death.

Warnings: angst (with a happy ending!), mentions of vomiting and blood.

a/n: Hello hello! This is perhaps definitely ass, but I really wanted to write for these two because I'm hopelessly in love with them both. Please enjoy!

Hanahaki Disease 花吐き病 (Japanese) is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings, or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear.

The natural world had always brought you peace. The softness of the grass under your feet, the gentle breeze blowing against your skin, the tender feeling of a flower blooming by your hand. You were a green witch, after all.

That was what had driven your family away. You had been 12 when you first sprouted a lily from your hand. You were more curious than scared; you had always sensed there was something that separated you from the rest of your family. Something about the earth’s treasures had always called to you. 

But even at your young age, you knew who you were living with. Sharing your abilities was a recipe for disaster; a sure fire way to have you outcast from your family.

So you did your best to keep your powers a secret, honing them in private, away from the watchful eye of your parents.

When you were 20, the inevitable happened. You were meant to be collecting berries for dinner when you had spotted a Willow Tree. It was worse for wear; you could feel it pleading for help as you approached it with a soft smile.

“It’s alright,” you soothed the tree as you gently placed your palms against the soil where its roots rested, “You’ll be alright.”

You closed your eyes, focusing on strengthening the roots as green magic pulsed out from your hands, through the soil, and into the tree itself, which began to heal instantly.

The snapping of a twig broke you out from your trance, turning your head to see your mother fleeing the scene. Your heart dropped as you quickly stood, moving to follow her.

She was too fast. By the time you had returned to your cabin, everyone and everything was gone. Your entire family had left you.

You fell to your knees in the middle of what was once your home, tears rolling down your face as you stared at the ground. Numb, broken, grieving.

You don’t know how long you stayed in that spot. You didn’t eat, you didn’t sleep, you just sat, staring, longing.

It wasn’t until a cold hand lifted your chin that you realized you weren’t alone anymore.

“Hello, darling,” a voice said softly, and you locked eyes with one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. Her brown eyes were intoxicating, drawing you in. You tilted your head at her in confusion and intrigue. Who was she? What was she doing here?

“You’ve been sat here for a week, darling. No food, no water, no sleep. You’ll kill yourself if you keep up like this,” she said as she looked at you curiously.

Your eyes widened in realization. Death. 

She shook her head at you gently, sensing your fear. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not taking you. It’s not your time,” she said, stroking your hair gently. 

“Thank you, Lady Death,” you stuttered out, in awe of her soft nature, directly contrasting the connotation of her very existence.

She smiled at you in response. “You can call me Rio, sweet girl.” 

There was a moment where you two merely looked at one another before she looked away, taking on a rather stern expression. “But I feel the need to tell you, sitting here and mourning your abandonment will only hurt you. It’s not your time. So don’t let it be. Get up, you’re coming with me.”

You stumble away from her in confusion. “I thought you weren’t taking me?”

She shook her head. “I’m not taking you to the afterlife. I am, however, taking you in. You’ll be staying with Agatha and I.”

You knew that name. You had read about it during your private studies.

“Agatha? Like…’The Witch Killer’ Agatha? That Agatha?” you asked cautiously.

Rio cackled, extending her hand to you.

You took it.

And so began the years you spent with Death and her lover, Agatha Harkness. The two women were vastly different to their reputations that had preceded them. Sure, they both had a fierceness to them. They had to, in order to survive their daily lives filled with corpses and taking souls.

But, with each other, they held such a softness. Rio often came back from a long day exhausted and drained. Death didn’t tend to be a fan favorite, and people made it evident, shouting at her and berating her as she escorted the souls of their loved ones to the afterlife. But Agatha greeted her at the door each evening with a hug, simply holding her for minutes on end, whispering sweet nothings in her ear as Rio visibly relaxed into her hold.

And Rio returned the favor, treating Agatha with a love full of tenderness and warmth. Comforting her after each nightmare, preventing her from overworking herself, giving her soft apology kisses after any arguments.

Before long, you knew almost everything about the pair. You learned about Agatha and her son, and his loss which nearly tore Agatha and Rio apart. How Agatha was only a ‘Witch Killer’ to keep Nicky alive as long as she could. How Rio held such anguish and guilt at having to take Nicky’s soul. How Agatha once held it against her but now loved her as fiercely as ever.

The two were made for each other, and though they welcomed you with a similar softness to that which they showed each other, you chalked it up to them taking pity on a girl who was abandoned by her family. You knew they could never love you like they loved each other.

But that didn’t stop you from falling for them. It happened subconsciously; you never meant for it to happen. But when your heart panged in longing at seeing Agatha and Rio curled up in each other’s arms in the living room, you knew it had happened. It panged even further as you looked down, noticing a red carnation that had bloomed in your palm against your will.

You were determined to ignore it. Surely you could enjoy their presence without focusing on the way your stomach flipped when Rio smiled at you, or how your heart seemed to triple in size whenever Agatha would stroke your hair in affectionate greeting. But what you had to do became evident one morning.

“We’re headed out for a bit, doll,” Agatha said as you sat at the table eating the breakfast she had made for you.

You nodded. “Okay! Don’t stay out too late, I’m making your favorite for dinner, Ags.”

She beamed at you, making butterflies flare up in your stomach so violently they made you uneasy. “You’re a gem. Isn’t she just?” She turned to Rio, squeezing her hand gently.

“Oh, yeah, she’s the sweetest,” Rio replied, winking at you as you feel your heart beat faster.

The two bid you a final farewell before leaving for the day. As soon as they left, you began to feel an uncomfortable itch in your throat. You furrowed your brows, attempting to clear your throat to ease the discomfort, but to no avail. Eventually you began coughing. It was a cough that made you feel sick, made you feel like something was really wrong.

And when you coughed into your palm and saw the petals of daffodils, your suspicions were confirmed.

You had heard of Hanahaki disease but had always believed it to be a myth. Your heart dropped at the realization that your love for these women was going to kill you.

You had to leave.

So you did. You packed up that day and left, traveling solo for centuries as you studied the disease you suffered from. 

Luckily, it impacted witches differently than humans. As your lifespan tended to be a lot longer, the disease was longer lasting; escalating at a slower pace before killing you altogether.

For the first hundred years, it had mostly been a consistent burning in your throat and coughing up various flower petals. Miserable, but bearable nonetheless.

After those hundred years, it began to escalate at a quicker pace as the flowers bloomed quicker and sharper. After 200 years of this disease, you were weaker than ever before. Coughing constantly, a never ending sensation of your insides burning, vomiting flower petals and blood.

Yes, there was the option of surgery, but you couldn’t bring yourself to allow that option to become a reality. You didn’t want to forget the love you held for Rio and Agatha. They had shown you kindness and softness like none other. You would die before you let yourself remove the memory of them from your very soul.

And you were getting close. You knew your time was running out.

And so, after another long day of slowly dying, you stared up at the sky, longing for your loves, even though you knew it could never be.

It was then that you felt yourself being sucked into the ground beneath you, and you let out a yelp at the shock.

Before you knew it, you were clawing your way out of the ground, now in a completely unfamiliar place. You were on a path in a strange, dystopian-looking forest. You could feel the magic buzzing around you as you pulled yourself up from the ground.

“Who is that?”

“I thought we already got a green witch?”

You heard a gasp and looked up to meet a pair of blue eyes you had longed for night after night for the past 200 years.

“Agatha,” you said quietly, tears welling in your eyes before you could stop them.

A familiar voice said your name and you shuddered at the sound.

“Rio.”

The two women stared at you and you stared back, unsure of what to say.

“So, are you gonna introduce us to the new girl, or…” a witch in a pink dress asked and you broke your intense stare-down to introduce yourself by name to the coven of witches. 

“I’m a green witch,” you explained.

“We’ve already got one,” a teenage boy said, pointing at Rio awkwardly.

You knew well and good that Rio wasn’t here as a green witch, she was here on work business, but you didn’t want to blow what seemed to be a cover, and you also didn’t have a damn clue where you were, so you played along.

“Well, you know summoning spells, you never know how many you’re gonna get…” you tried cautiously, still feeling the gaze of your former housemates burning into the side of your head.

“Y/N, a word?” Agatha finally asked, and you gulp before nodding and following her and Rio to a secluded part of the forest.

“Hey guys…what’s up?” you asked with an awkward smile, trying to ease the tension.

Rio narrowed her eyes at you, crossing her arms. “What’s up is that you up and left 200 years ago without so much as a word to either of us. Care to explain?”

You tried to look to Agatha for support, but she wouldn’t meet your eyes. Your stomach turned at the thought that you had upset these women you loved so deeply.

You took a deep breath, staring at the ground. “I had some business to attend to. I didn’t want either of you to get wrapped up in it.”

“Was your business ‘killing yourself?’ You look rough,” Rio said, a teasing smirk hiding her worry.

“Thanks,” you rolled your eyes, some tension releasing from your shoulders at the knowledge that Rio wasn’t angry enough to ignore you.

“You left without so much as saying goodbye,” Agatha said quietly. She sounded so hurt, and you couldn’t believe you had brought this on the pair, but you knew they deserved to love each other in peace, not be burdened at being the cause of your death.

“Ags, I’m really sorry, I should’ve said goodbye, I just-“ you were cut off as a violent coughing fit shook you, causing both women to raise their eyebrows at you.

You turned away from them as you coughed a plumeria flower out of your throat. You quickly slipped the flower into your pocket and wiped a bit of blood from the corner of your mouth before turning to face the two witches again.

The eyes on you were soft and concerned, but you shook your head at them, shutting down their questions before they even asked. “I’m fine, just a cough.”

Rio opened her mouth to protest when a witch sporting orange streaks in her hair interrupted.

“I’m sorry to get in the middle of whatever this reunion is, but I think it’s time for our next trial.”

You furrowed your brows. “Trial?” You began to realize that you had no idea where you actually were.

“Duh, we are on the Witches Road, after all!” The teenage boy exclaimed, leaving you even more confused.

The road isn’t real. You knew all about the song that Agatha had used to lure her victims in. 

“Wait, but-“ you stopped yourself from questioning any further when you saw Rio subtly shake her head at you, a silent plea to not reveal the truth of the road to the group.

You nodded in understanding, deciding to save your questions for later. “Alright, where’s the next trial?”

You looked up to see the group staring at something behind you. Agatha and Rio were particularly fascinated by it.

You turned around and your stomach dropped. You saw a cottage. It’s covered in vines and moss, making it appear worn down. But you thought it was beautiful. Perhaps that’s because it was yours. And Agatha’s. and Rio’s.

You looked at the path leading to the cottage. It was covered in flowers. You took a deep breath.

You just got here and already you were being given a trial.

As you and the rest of the coven approached the cottage, you couldn’t help but turn to the women you desire the most for comfort. 

Rio had an arm wrapped around Agatha’s waist, her thumb gently stroking the witch’s hip bone. Agatha looked up at her, smiling in gratitude, and Rio pressed a soft kiss to Agatha’s forehead.

Your stomach churned at the sight, and you felt bile rising in your throat. You painfully swallowed it back down, cringing at the effect it had on your throat, already raw from the thorns slowly tearing it to shreds.

“You good?” The witch in the pink dress asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s just get this over with.”

The inside of the cottage looked just like you thought it would.

Home.

The same furniture, same pillows and blankets, same decor on the walls.

Your eyes filled with tears as you remembered all the time you had spent here with the women you loved more than anything.

“Doll,” a gentle voice said, and you turned to see Agatha looking at you softly. She approached you slowly, holding a hand out for you, but you took a step back.

“I’m fine,” you said, brushing your face and continuing to move through the house.

“This is new,” you heard Rio’s voice from the room resembling your bedroom. 

You entered and were greeted with a tapestry on your wall. It showed 5 flowers. Below the woven flowers was a message:

The words she never spoke will slowly begin to choke. For if they never cared, a life cannot be spared.

“It’s my life,” you breathed out, staring in horror at the plants on the tapestry.

Rio nodded, running her fingers along the tapestry as she identified the plants.

“Lily. Rebirth,” she began.

“The birth of your powers, the birth of you as a witch,” Agatha identified.

“Willow Tree. Loss.”

“The loss of your kin. Being abandoned by those you called family,” Agatha continued.

“Red Carnations. Deep, affectionate love.”

Agatha went silent at this, her brows furrowing.

“Daffodil. Unrequited love.”

Rio and Agatha were visibly shaken by this point. What hadn’t you told them? You were in love? With who?

Rio snapped her head to look at you upon seeing the last flower.

“Plumeria,” she said grimly.

Agatha’s eyes were wide. “What does that mean?” 

Rio only continued to look at you.

“Rio, what does that mean???”

Her question was answered as you began to cough violently again, the sheer force of it bringing you to your knees.

Agatha rushed over to you in a panic. She looked at the rest of the coven in terror. “What’s happening to her?” she cried as you began to choke.

“The words she never spoke will slowly begin to choke,” the teenager said.

“Hanahaki disease,” the witch in pink breathed out.

“What the hell is that?” Agatha was crying now, watching as petals and thorns made their way out of your mouth covered in blood.

“A disease that affects someone facing unrequited love,” Rio said in realization.

As she put the pieces together she knelt in front of you in an instant, anger coursing through her.

“You left because of this,” she said, her voice low, “You thought we didn’t love you, so you left?” she asked incredulously.

“Didn’t want—you to—-see me die,” you gasped out, fighting for air as you began to cough up more and more blood.

“You’re not dying, Y/N. I won’t take you,” Rio choked out, her sorrow getting the best of her. 

“Better this way,” you managed, and Agatha choked out a sob.

“It’s not, doll, we love you, we love you,” she cried helplessly.

The whole coven stood in shock. The two women they feared the most were in the most pain they had seen since they began to walk the road.

Both women hold you tight, desperately trying to convince you of their love.

Rio grabbed your face to look at her. “There’s a reason I took you in that day, mi vida,” she whispered as tears fell down her face, “I felt pulled to you. I knew you would be special to me. Aggie and I love you so much, please believe me.”

She leaned in and pressed her lips to yours, ignoring the blood and petals and thorns and focusing on you. Just you.

When she pulled away you gasped, finally able to gather air into your lungs.

Relief was visible throughout the entire coven. They had only just met you, but seeing how your existence being threatened had brought absolute devastation to two of the most intimidating women on earth had shaken them.

As you began to breathe again, you sagged against Agatha.

“You’re okay, doll, you’re okay now,” she assured you as she gently ran a hand through your hair.

The door to the cottage slammed open, and the rest of the coven took it as their cue to leave, giving you three a moment to recover.

As you laid against Agatha, you looked at Rio with tired eyes. “Sorry for getting blood on you,” you rasped, causing the woman to roll her eyes at you.

“You’re such an idiot, you know that?” She scolded before taking both of your hands in hers. “I. Love. You.”

Tears filled your eyes at her earnest confession. “I’m so sorry I ran,” you began, your body shaking, “I saw the love you had for each other, and how much you had healed each other, and I couldn’t hurt that. I didn’t want you to see me die. It wouldn’t have been your fault,” you said brokenly.

Agatha shushed you, kissing the top of your head. “You shouldn’t have run. It would’ve saved us all 200 years of agony,” she said, and you hang your head in guilt.

But then you felt a cold hand lifting your chin. And suddenly you were 20 years old again, looking into the eyes of Lady Death herself. 

But this time, instead of looking at you with curiosity, she looked at you with something much stronger. She looked at you with love.

“But we’ve got you back now,” she said, smiling tearfully at you, “so we’re taking you in. Is that okay?”

Your body wracked with sobs as you nodded, and both women were holding you in an instant. Your back was against Agatha’s front as her arms wrapped around your waist. Rio straddled you, her arms wrapping around your neck as she pulled you close.

And out of the cracked wooden floor of that cottage, something bloomed.

Lavender. Healing. Love.