#just put it in the sunlight. maybe one day it will bloom.

[moonstruckme]

hiii this my first request ever, and ur one of my absolute favorites on this app so i figured ur the perfect person to ask my first request🙏 kinda simple but anything with lily evans and fem reader would be beautiful🙈 i love that girl and there’s never enough of her:(

ok aggh ur awesome byee<3

Honored to be your first request babe! Hope you like it <3

Lily Evans x fem!reader ♡ 824 words

Lily wakes to sunlight streaming through the windows and flowers on the nightstand. She turns her head to see them better, stretching as she does, enjoying the warmth of the light that kisses her bare shoulder beside the strap of her tank top. It’s a mix of tulips, baby’s breath, and, because you can never resist, lilies, pink and white blooming out of a thick bottomed vase. 

She leans out of bed to smell them. It’s nice, sweet and fresh to offset the slightly chemical smell that lingers from painting your room the night before. The color is called sea foam, and in the morning light Lily feels gratified that you’ve made the right choice. Your walls are the color of a clear sky. It’s going to look perfect with your art and photos and all the little pieces of your life put up against it. 

There’s a different sort of nice smell coming out of the kitchen, which is where Lily finds you. Humming something from the radio while scraping eggs around in a pan with a plastic spatula. You don’t startle when she wraps her arms around you from behind. Lily likes to think it’s because you feel as safe and at home here as she does. 

“Good morning.” You smile. Lily kisses the corner of it, your jeans scratchy against her hip. 

“Good morning,” she says back. “You’ve been busy.” 

“Yeah, I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep.” You turn your attention back to the eggs, but your fingers tangle with Lily’s. “Figured I might as well get some things done.” 

“What time is it?” 

“Around eleven.” 

Lily lets out a little breath, though she’s not very surprised. “I don’t know how I slept in so late.” 

“I think you needed it.” You pivot slightly, just enough to rest the side of your head against hers. “You’ve been working hard.” 

That’s true; you both have. After moving into the apartment last Sunday, the rest of the week has seen the two of you coming home from work every day and unpacking, hunting for furniture, priming walls, changing light bulbs, and organizing your things late into the night. It’s Saturday now, and though Lily is pleased with the results of your work, she’s exhausted. You must be, too. 

“Maybe we could have a nap this afternoon,” she says. Turns her face into yours to smush a kiss into your cheek. “Thank you for the flowers, by the way. They’re beautiful.” 

“Guess you were named appropriately, then,” you hum. It’s an overused line, from your lips, but secretly Lily loves it every time. 

She slips her hands beneath the cotton of your shirt, hugging your bare skin. “What are you making, lovely?” 

“Scrambled eggs.” Your voice has softened at her touch. “I cut up some fruit, too, it’s in the fridge.” 

Lily lets out a sigh that’s a little like a moan, but at the way your skin warms she can’t bring herself to feel shy over it. “You’re too good for me.” 

“Not true. I’m just trying to get even. You’re the one who picked the color in the bedroom, and that looks amazing, did you see?” 

“I did see.” Her earlier satisfaction grows at the thought that you’re as pleased with it as she is. “We did a good job, there.” 

“That was all you,” you say, turning your face into hers for a kiss. You taste bright, like the fruit Lily now suspects you sampled while preparing it. Strawberries, maybe. 

Happiness spreads through her like honey, slow and warm and sweet from the center of her chest where she imagines her soul is to the very tips of her fingers spread over your navel. Lily hopes that this is what the rest of her life looks like. It’s better than she would have dared to imagine for herself, not so long ago, but it feels a surer thing now that you’re here. First month’s rent and a security deposit down, painting walls and creating the backdrop of your life together. It feels like every morning could start with sunlight and flowers and strawberry-flavored kisses. 

“Can I make a proposal?” she asks. 

“Hm?” 

“I know we just got our new table.” And it hadn’t been easy, the two of you taking up nearly the entire sidewalk and needing to stop for water only to cave and phone James to bring his car. “But would you want to eat this in our room? So we can enjoy the color?” 

“Wow,” you breathe, smile audible in your voice as you lean forward to turn off the stove. Your eggs are done. “Breakfast in bed? That just does not sound appealing at all. Where would you get an idea like that?” 

“Forget it.” Lily lets go of you, making like she’s going to walk out of the kitchen. 

Your laughter follows. “Wait. Would you grab the fruit? I’m right behind you.” 

[ticifics]

hiiiii im ur new fllwer!!

came here to say that ur writing was so effortlessly beautiful,

but then i couldn't deny that im a bit devastated that u didnt write for remus lupin, which is fine as long as u writes for the characters u're most comfortable with.

andddd dont u dare stop writing, it was so beautiful i love u for existing.

take care dearest <33

Adorable

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

Summary: “You know, Remus, if you weren’t so adorable, you probably wouldn’t have gotten the chocolate.”

Warnings: fluffy - just a shy Remus with chocolates, being a lovely boy and affectionate teasing

A/N: honey, thank you soooo much, that was really sweet of you, so maybe I'm all flustered and embarrassed reading this. I really hope you are having a delightful day, full of lovely little things and I love u tooo. I spent the afternoon putting this together, it's the first time I've dared to write about my boy Remus, so I hope it didn't come out too bad

Masterlist

It was a pleasant early spring afternoon, and the garden seemed to invite anyone passing by to sit and relax. You walked through it, holding a small parchment wrap that hid a piece of chocolate, something you knew he loved. The sun filtered through the trees, and the soft sound of the wind filled the space between the birds’ singing.

That was when you saw him.

Remus was sitting on a stone bench near a row of yellow flowers that were beginning to bloom, his brown hair tousled by the wind and his face slightly tilted to one side, completely engrossed in the book in his hands. You noticed the scars on his cheeks and temples, which the sunlight made more visible, but which he seemed to carry with a serenity that only made him more endearing.

It was a Muggle romance, you realized, something he read often. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him — he looked so peaceful, so at ease in that moment. It was in these moments that you couldn’t help but think that he was, without a doubt, the most adorable boy in the whole school.

Without lifting his gaze from the book, he spoke, his voice gentle and familiar: “Are you going to watch me all day or come join me?”

You froze for a moment, your heart racing. He knew you were there, and, from the tone of his voice, he seemed more amused than annoyed. When you finally mustered the courage to take a step forward, Remus looked up, and with a smile that seemed calm and sincere, he nodded towards the empty space beside him.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up today,” he said, closing the book for a moment and resting it on his lap. “I thought we could enjoy the weather.”

His smile, soft and genuine, made something tighten in your chest, and you tried to hide the wave of butterflies that flooded your stomach as you approached. Even though you were friends, he always had that effect on you — the simple, warm way he carried himself, the voice that seemed to hold the comfort of hot chocolate on a cold night.

You sat beside him, adjusting your coat against the light spring breeze. The stone bench wasn’t exactly comfortable, and you quickly realized that the space was too small for both of you. Remus’s shoulder brushed against yours lightly, the unexpected warmth of his closeness contrasting with the cool breeze.

He seemed not to notice — or he was pretending very well. Remus’s brown eyes were fixed on the wrap you held, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “Is this for me?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant, as if he didn’t want to assume too much.

You lifted the wrap and pretended to consider it, raising an eyebrow. “Depends,” you replied, your tone dry but playful. “Do you deserve it?”

Remus let out a soft laugh, the sound warm enough to seem to fill the air around you. He tilted his head to the side, as if thinking over the question. “I think I’ve been a good friend,” he said, his voice tinged with a nearly melodic quality. “But can you remind me of any transgressions I’ve committed recently?”

You tried to contain a smile, but it emerged despite your efforts. “Hm, maybe I should share, then,” you murmured, unrolling the parchment to reveal a generous piece of chocolate. “But only because I’m incredibly generous.”

Remus accepted the piece with a look of genuine gratitude, but he hesitated before taking a bite, his eyes meeting yours for an instant longer than necessary. “I always knew you were generous,” he said, the tone almost clumsy but sincere.

You looked away, trying to mask the light blush rising to your cheeks. The wind tousled his hair, and the scars seemed to soften in the filtered sunlight. He took a bite of the chocolate, and his face lit up with a look of childlike pleasure, as if that piece were the best he had ever tasted.

“This is amazing,” he said, his voice full of warm enthusiasm. “Did you make it yourself?”

You shrugged, trying to appear indifferent, even as you felt thousands of butterflies take flight in your stomach at the compliment. “Of course. It’s nothing special.”

He looked at you, his eyes shining in a way that made your heart stumble. “It is. You’re talented,” he said, and there was something in the softness of his voice that made you look away, pretending to watch the flowers in the garden.

The comfortable silence that followed was broken when, without thinking, you said:

“You know, Remus, if you weren’t so adorable, you probably wouldn’t have gotten the chocolate.”

The words slipped from your lips like a secret that shouldn’t have been revealed, and their weight hung in the air between you. His eyes widened in that instant, and you wanted to shrink right there, maybe disappear among the flowers around you. As for Remus… Remus seemed frozen in place, the piece of chocolate still between his fingers, his brown eyes locked on yours as if trying to decipher something you didn’t know how to explain.

You tried to regain control. Maybe you could make it seem like a joke, just another casual tease between you. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the warmth rising to your face and the intense sparkle in his eyes left you speechless.

Remus, however, was quicker. He placed the chocolate on the bench between you and tilted his head slightly, a shy but utterly sincere smile forming on his lips. “So… is that all I need to do to get more chocolate? Be adorable?”

The question was asked in such a light, almost playful tone, but his eyes… his eyes told another story. There was something there that you couldn’t help but feel: an immense tenderness, an admiration that seemed genuinely disarming.

Your heart pounded so hard that you almost believed he could hear it. “Don’t get cocky,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended, trying to sound indifferent, but the hesitant smile on his lips gave you away.

Remus laughed, a soft, warm laugh, and you felt the sound reverberate through your entire body like an unexpected ray of sunlight on a cold day. He scratched the back of his neck, a gesture that seemed to be his way of handling embarrassment. “I just wanted to know,” he continued, the tone gentle, but now there was something more vulnerable in his voice. “If it’s that obvious that you think I’m adorable… what else do you think about me?”

The world seemed to stop. Your brain desperately tried to find an answer, but your mind was in complete chaos, torn between the disbelief that he was really flirting with you and the sheer panic that maybe he was expecting an honest answer.

You looked away, feeling the warmth in your cheeks grow even more. “I think you should share the chocolate,” was all you managed to say, pointing at the piece he had left on the bench.

He laughed again, but didn’t push further, as if he knew he had taken the conversation to the safe limit — for now. Remus picked up the piece of chocolate, carefully broke it in half, and offered you one half. When you took it, your fingers brushed briefly, and the warmth of that simple contact felt so intense that you wondered if it was possible for someone to feel that way just from being close to another person.

“You have excellent taste in chocolate,” he commented, taking a bite and closing his eyes for a moment, savoring the sweetness as if it were the best he had ever tasted.

You watched him, allowing yourself a small moment of contemplation. How could he be so… Remus? So kind, so unassuming, so… adorable. And then he opened his eyes, catching you staring with a look that lingered longer than he probably intended.

“I’m sure the chocolate is so good because it came from you,” he said, and there was something in the way he looked at you, something so full of sweetness that left your heart completely vulnerable.

You swallowed hard, feeling as if you were on the brink of something new, something that maybe even Remus hadn’t noticed yet, but that was there, in the air between you, impossible to ignore. The sound of birds, the scent of flowers, the soft breeze — everything seemed intensified by his presence, and by the smile he couldn’t help but wear when he was beside you.

“You talk too much, Lupin,” you murmured, breaking the moment with a small, mischievous smile, though your cheeks were still on fire.

He smiled back, tilting his head as if accepting the tease. “I guess someone needs to make up for your silence.”

And for the first time that afternoon, you allowed yourself to laugh. A genuine, light laugh, full of something you could perhaps call happiness. Remus joined in, and in that moment, nothing seemed more perfect than being by his side, sharing chocolate and moments that felt made just for the two of you.

[suguwu]

this is messy but—

it’s been years since the flames dabi set in his father’s office turned on him. set their sparking teeth in his skin and refused to let go. it’s been years, but his scars never let him forget. 

he’s out of prison now, but for all his counselor talks a big game, he can’t find a job. so instead, when the noise is too much, he takes refuge at the little flower shop around the corner from his rehabilitation center. 

the mist in the air feels good on his scars and cools him off and the scent of earth is grounding. brings him back into his own skin. he lingers but never buys anything but you—the owner—never seems to chase him out.

you smile at him and bob your head in greeting before returning back to the bouquet you're making. it's like you trust him. maybe you do.

one day, he's running a finger over a leaf of a flower, one that blushes like the dawn, sweet, soft pink. he's afraid to touch a silken petal; thinks it will rot beneath his clumsy fingers, considering the way it ripples like a wave in the barest breeze.

"ranunculus."

he glances over his shoulder at you. "bless you."

you laugh.

"the flower," you explain. "it's called a ranunculus."

"oh."

"here," you say, picking one out of the bucket it's tucked into. the water sloshes; it gleams on the long, thick stem of the flower. "hold that for a second."

he blinks as you shove the flower into his hands. then you're plucking more flowers from nearby buckets, your hands moving like fluttering little birds. you gather more and more, until he can barely see you behind the greenery and the blooms. he recognizes some: proud, leggy irises; fluffy ball peonies, as white as driven snow; crimson tulips so dark they're almost black.

"c'mon," you say, heading towards your worktable. he follows, feeling a little ridiculous carrying a single bloom versus your meadow-like armful. you lay your wares out on the table and beckon him closer. he holds out the ranunculus. you flick off the end of the stem with your knife. he hovers, unsure.

"well?" you say. "are you gonna sit?"

he eyes you. you meet his gaze steadily, a hint of a smile pulling at your lips.

"feel bad for me?" he sneers. "that why you're being so nice?"

you hum.

"is putting you to work nice?" you ask, already on to the next flower. he watches the way you hold the knife, how it shines silver in the sunlight, how easily it slides through the thick stem. those hands of yours move with careful surety. he wonders if you do origami; he could see you creasing a thick piece of ornamental paper perfectly.

"i wouldn't call this work."

"no? then you shouldn't mind doing it."

he shoves his hands into his pockets. the misters turn on over the flower buckets; some of the spray settles against his skin, as if he's by the sea.

"fine," he says. "show me."

at the end of the day, you insist on paying him, despite the fact that he's cut a few of the stems too short—one of your bouquets is a little lopsided, but you have it displayed with all the others—and ruined a few blooms. there are petals stuck to his fingertips.

he goes home smelling of wet loam and your faint perfume. rei blinks her big doe eyes at his sudden appearance at the family dinner table, but she makes space for him all the same.

he goes back to your shop the next day. you smile at him, soft and pretty and a little bit sharp with knowing, and he ducks further into his hoodie so you can't see his scars.

"show me more," he tells you.

you tilt your head.

"alright," you say. "let's go."

and just like that, he has a job.

he makes it three weeks before he thinks about kissing you.

it's your hands, he thinks. they're careful and quick and fearless, despite getting pierced by thorns and clippers alike. you touch everything with a certain type of care.

including him.

he never had a chance against you. he thinks about your hands, about your lips, about the way you're so careful with him. not like he's breakable. he'd have left if you touched him like that.

no, you touch him the same way you touch your flowers: like he means something.

it's too much.

he stops going to your shop.

but he watches you, sometimes. you move like a dream, floating between the aisles, petals caught on your fingertips. you laugh with your customers; you chat with them as you roll their bouquets up tight in paper, tied off with a perfect bow. you smile at a man, as bright as the sun, and his hands tighten into fists. it pulls the scars tight enough to hurt, but he doesn't care.

he barges into the shop, shouldering the man aside as he tries to exit. ignores the disgruntled call from behind him. by the time he makes it to the register, you're watching him coolly.

he realizes he doesn't know what to say.

you reach out. he lets you slide that careful hand into the hood of his hoodie; lets you cup his cheek. your eyes don't widen at the rough texture of his scars against your skin. you simply smile at him.

"welcome back," you say, and he realizes he doesn't need to say anything at all.

[withleeknow]

seasons of you.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff or at least i hope so lmao, not v edited and literally no one is surprised lol i sound like a broken record atp just adding that into every post word count: 0.7k note: inspired by a highly fucked up thing that @matchannie said to me yesterday lmao it has not left my brain since you said it you absolute monster

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

minho falls in love with you four times a year.

minho falls in love with you in the spring, over blooming cherry blossoms and vibrant daffodils that greet you on your weekly sunset walk. over the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his own without soft fluffy gloves getting in the way, now that it's finally warm enough to retire that extra layer of protection for the season. over the sun coming out of hibernation and filling your days with golden light, falling upon your face and casting you in a magical hue. over the remnants of winter that still leave behind a palpable chill in the air early in the morning or late in the night, that has you reaching out for the comfort of his warmth. over your delighted smile when he brings home a bouquet of tulips after a long day at work. over your glassy eyes, reddened nose and flushed cheeks as he takes care of you when the seasonal allergies kick in.

minho falls in love with you in the summer, over picnics in the park where you both lay on blue gingham picnic blankets, your head on his chest, as you watch the clouds overhead drift peacefully. over watermelon gelatos passed between teasing lips, the confectionary melting too quickly for your liking under the blazing sunlight. over spontaneous drives to the beach even though neither of you can swim, but you go just for fun, just to build sand sculptures in the shape of your cat babies and stand on the edge of the water to splash at each other. over long naps on the couch on days where you're too lazy to venture into the outside heat, preferring to stay cuddled up together under the air conditioner with niki playing in the background.

minho falls in love with you in fall, over shared slices of pumpkin pie as you watch the leaves turn yellow and red right outside your window. over the adorable way you hide your face behind your hands on nights where he puts on a horror movie because he insists on honoring the halloween spirit. over your off-key rendition of taylor swift's all too well (the 10-minute version) for most of the season because you adamantly claim that it's autumn's official anthem. over weekends spent attached at the hip, baking sugar cookies for hours on end. over your crestfallen pout as you take note of how the days keep getting shorter and shorter, already missing warm sunny weeks with all your heart.

minho falls in love with you in winter, over matching scarves and beanies, even though he often has to carry them for you because you have a bad habit of forgetting them before you go out. over the first snow of the season because they say that if you witness the first snowfall with the person you love, then you will stay together for a long, long time. over sweet cuddles in bed as a bad christmas movie plays on tv, and you fall asleep on his shoulder about half an hour into the movie despite being the one to select the movie in the first place. over your return from a shopping spree with your girlfriends with nothing for yourself but everything for soondoongdori, from christmas themed clothes to treats and toys.

but then again, maybe it's not entirely accurate to say that minho falls in love you merely four times a year. if he wants to be precise, then he would say that he falls for you anew every morning he wakes up and sees you asleep in his arms like a delicate miracle granted by a star he once used to wish upon. if he wants to get technical, then he falls in love with you with every smile that you send his way, which is a terribly sappy thing for him to admit but it doesn't make the statement any less true.

minho loves you every day of every week, of every month, of every year. he's loved you before he even met you, when you were just a romanticized idea in his head and hadn't yet walked into his life like the angel he was always meant to find. he loves you every minute of every hour; there isn't a second where you're not on his mind, not a single beat of his heart that doesn't spell out your name. he loves you throughout the seasons and a million times in between.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.04.2024]

[tiredfox64]

Can you write about the reader would watch Tomas train shirtless everyday in secret to avoid being embarrassed by someone until one day Tomas catches her? 😉

You will see such Wonderful Things

Yip notes: If only I could do that, I’m blind af. Never ask me to look at something I’ll lie and say I see it

Pairing: Tomas x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: Suggestive

From spring to summer, the changing of the seasons is a wonderful time. The cherry blossoms bloom before turning into healthy green leaves. The wind is warm as it blows the grass. The butterflies and bees play around with the flowers as you walk by. You must be on a nature walk. Why else would your eyes be shifting around?

What? You’re not on a nature walk? Then what are you looking—oh…

You’re looking for Tomas, of course.

Since it’s been getting warmer, it’s been harder to stay cool during training. Tomas is used to it constantly being cold but since he isn’t in Arctika anymore he’s been struggling with the heat. Even if it’s only up to 75 degrees Fahrenheit he feels like he’s being suffocated. So with the weather being up to 80 degrees he had no choice but to go topless. It’s the most he could do to stay to stay cool.

Tomas would usually feel embarrassed training without a shirt which is why he trains in a somewhat secluded area. He goes to a clearing in the forest near the Shirai Ryu temple. He’s only told Kuai Liang where it is since he didn’t want the rest of the clan to know about it, especially you.

It’s nothing against you but he would feel a little embarrassed if a girl saw him shirtless. He’s not ashamed of his body, he has a well-built body. Even you have said it yourself. You made that statement very clear since you always liked to touch his muscular arms. You even mentioned that Tomas had bigger muscles than his brother, which he denied even though it’s true. Just the thought of you seeing him shirtless and finding many ways to praise him makes his head spin. His mind and body could not handle all of that. It’s best that you didn’t know.

OH BUT WAIT YOU DID KNOW!

It was an accident; you swear it. You didn’t mean to stumble upon Tomas while he was training. You were just trying to look for him so you too could spar with each other and well…that happened. The first was an accident, no biggie. But the other times, that’s a different story.

After that, you started wandering off into the woods to check if Tomas was there all the time. And he was! You would watch as he grew hotter until his breathing got heavy. Only then would he take his shirt off. Oh gosh, how were you so lucky to be blessed with such a sight? You wouldn’t trade this for anything, not even a view of Niagara Falls. The sight of him like this makes you fall for him even more.

Alright, maybe you were a little boy crazy right now, but Tomas has really put a spell on you. It’s like the sunlight knows his body is magnificent so it’s always shining down on him. It calls for your attention. You can’t rip your eyes away from him. It doesn’t make it any better that he grunts every time he attacks the training dummy. It drives your hormones wild and gets your mind going. Relax your fist, woman! The ground didn’t do anything to you! Why must you grip it so tight?!

This day was no different. You found the perfect spot for hiding, right behind a small boulder with a tree next to it and shrubbery in the front. There was no way Tomas could see you, but you could see him perfectly. At this point, there was an indent in the ground where you usually kneel. This day sure was hot which meant a better show for you.

By the time you got there he was already pretty sweaty and his top was off. His breathing was heavy and he was even letting out a few whine due to the heat. Poor thing, he is out of his element. He wiped the sweat off his forehead before continuing to train. You watched him slash and kick the training dummy. His grunts were loud and clear to you. He was doing good for about five minutes before he needed another break.

He walked over to the shade that was provided by the trees. He lays on the ground to relax his muscles and catch his breath. You had to peek your head up a little more to get a view of him. Your heart started beating like crazy just looking at him. He even started pushing his pants down a little to reduce the feeling of being suffocated by his clothes. There goes your mind running wild again.

Girls can have dirty thoughts as well. You shouldn’t feel guilty for staring at him and wondering if that’s what he would look like if you were riding him. All hot and bothered, getting all sweaty and breathing heavily. You’d wonder if he would groan or if he would whimper. You can imagine both. He’s a tough guy but he can also be a softie. You would do anything just to get him like that in bed. That’s if you could get him in bed. You haven’t asked him out.

No matter, if this is the most you could get so be it. You just can’t risk getting caught.

Snap

Uh oh…

You ducked down immediately when you heard the snap of a twig. Tomas heard it too and immediately turned in your direction. When you looked down you saw your knee on top of the broken twig. How could you have missed that?

You heard the sound of grass being stepped on and knew Tomas coming your way. You crawled like your life depended on it. You crawled back in the direction you came from until you were a good enough distance away. Only then did you get on your feet and run out of there. By the time Tomas looked over the shrubbery and the boulder you were gone. Not a trace of you was left. Except there was. On closer inspection, he saw the indent in the ground. He immediately knew someone was watching him. But who and why? He can’t leave this unsolved. Though he might have an idea of who it is.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Well, no wonder your uniform was always dirty.

The first thing Tomas noticed when he went back to the temple was that your pants were dirty. The dirt was specifically on your knee area. How suspicious.

He played it cool. He didn’t want you to suspect him of anything. He acted normal throughout the day, talking to you about mundane things like it was any other day. You fell for his act. You believed you got away with it. He didn’t know you were the one taking a peek at him. Oh, but he knows. He just needs to prove his theory right.

The next day came and you were walking into the forest by instinct. You’re like a teen going into the woods to smoke weed to avoid being grounded by your parents. You needed to go and get your fixing.

Your beautiful man was already there. He had his shirt off as usual though it wasn’t all that hot. There was a nice breeze that shook the leaves. It felt like it was 65 degrees outside. But you paid no mind to that. All you cared about was looking at Tomas. You got to your usual spot and knelt down.

All was going well until five minutes in. You saw Tomas take something out of his pocket before smashing it onto the ground. Smoke, it was a smoke bomb. He was gone in the blink of an eye. You expected him to show up again after a second but he didn’t. Where did he go and why do you feel eyes on you?

“Heh, I guess I was right.”

You heard Tomas’ voice behind you. You were caught. Game over man!

Your face burned hotter than the day. That 65 degrees felt like 90 now. You turned around and saw Tomas standing there. His arms were crossed and he looked somewhat intrigued. He looked like he was waiting for an explanation from you. You watched his lips twitch a little as he held himself back from smiling.

He’s happy that you aren’t some assassin but seeing that it’s you, it’s kinda funny. He finds it even sillier that you are struggling to give him an explanation.

“I…I was…so what I was doing was…” You don’t have the right words, you may never have the right words.

Because how else are you gonna explain that you’ve been watching him every day? The ground doesn’t lie, the evidence is in the indent. You were a peeping tom who watched him take his top off every day.

“I’m still waiting for an explanation.” He said.

You knelt and bowed your head to apologize to him. Your embarrassment prevented you from telling him the truth. All you could manage to do was apologize and wonder if he would see you in a bad light now. The truth is you are a pervert there is no way around that. Your behavior is unacceptable hence you are a pervert. There should be no surprise that Tomas would think the same way.

“You’re a strange girl, you know that right? I would have preferred you to be upfront about this.”

…I have a bad read on these characters.

You lifted your head up to look at him with a mixture of shock and awe. The awe was because of the angle you were getting. I mean, good lord, you wouldn’t mind being on your knees aga—

“So…does that mean I can stay?”

The only response you got from Tomas was a head shake with a smile on his face. He walked past you to get back to training. He turned back once he realized you didn’t move from your spot.

“Are you coming or are you staying behind the rock like a pervert?” He yelled to you.

Well, I guess he does see you as a pervert. But it seems like he doesn’t mind all that much. So get off your knees and get a front-row seat.

Yap notes: My brain is mush and there is too much fruit in this damn den 🍊🍓. Adiós!

[rosealie0e]

Satoru Gojo x Zenin! Clan member reader

Childhood lovers.

(Notes: reader is female, this story has no smut, just fluff and light angst)

Even though I’m twenty eight now, married, and a mother… I still recall all those years ago, when I met the strongest sorcerer of the current day, and had him head over heels in love with me. It’s strange how sharply those memories come back—sunlight in my hair, dirt on my kimono, and the scent of hydrangeas blooming.

—

The girl dashed barefoot across the winding stone path of the Gojo estate’s garden, her sandals long discarded in the grass. The hem of her dusty lavender kimono was hiked up in her fists to keep the silk from brushing the dirt, though the fabric was already a little torn from the thorny hedge she’d climbed earlier. It was just supposed to be a clan summit between the Zenin, Gojo, and Kamo families—she hadn’t expected to be dragged along. But her father’s palm had decided otherwise, stinging across her mother’s cheek before he’d stormed out with the girl in tow.

Now, lost somewhere behind the sprawling estate, she wasn’t thinking about the meeting. Only the garden—the way the flowers tangled in the fencing, how the sky was already bruising with dusk—and the sweet, weightless feeling of not being seen. That is, until a boy’s voice broke through the silence.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, stepping from behind a tree. His white hair caught in the sunlight, and his piercing blue eyes.. bright, unmistakably Gojo, locked onto hers.

Startled, she turned quickly, instinctively pressing the folds of her kimono tighter. “Your gardens are beautiful,” she replied, recovering with a smile. “I’m just looking around.” Without waiting for a response, she pivoted to leave.

“You know your father’s looking for you, right?” the boy called out behind her.

She groaned. “Let him look. Maybe I’ll be lucky and he won’t find me.”

But before she could finish her thought, he moved swiftly, grabbing her wrist and tugging her into a patch of thick bushes. Her protest died in her throat as he pressed a hand lightly over her mouth. Heavy footsteps approached.

“Keep looking for the brat. She couldn’t have gone far,” one of the men growled…her father. “Can’t let the others know. I planned to put her up for marriage today… forge some alliances. Useless child.” His voice was bitter with resentment. “Her mother will hear about this.”

The girl stiffened, and the boy leaned in, his breath warm near her ear. “Don’t want him to find you?”

She gave a small, shaky nod. “He just wants to get rid of me,” she murmured once the voices faded.

When it was safe, they slipped from the greenery, and without a word, he took her hand and ran. They laughed breathlessly, grass whipping at their ankles as he led her to a quiet pond on the far edge of the estate, hidden from the main house.

“So… why’s he so eager to get rid of you?” the boy asked, crouching by the water and flicking a pebble across its surface.

She sat beside him, folding her legs beneath her. “He thinks selling me off for marriage would be more useful than training me. Says there’s no point in a girl learning jujutsu techniques.”

“You’ve got inherited abilities though?” he asked curiously, glancing at her again.

She nodded and raised an eyebrow, imitating her father’s voice with a pout, “‘no point in wasting energy on a girl’s technique!’” The mockery made him snort.

“Guess I’m glad I’m not a girl,” he joked, flashing her a grin.

“Yeah, lucky you,” she muttered, but her smile didn’t fade.

“Who’s he wanting to marry you off to?” the boy asked, his tone light, but the curiosity in his voice was genuine.

She shrugged, fingers combing absently through her hair to flick out small white petals that had fallen from the trees above. “Not a clue,” she said softly. “If I’m lucky, maybe someone around my age… hopefully not an old councilman missing half his teeth.” She gave a quiet laugh, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

He chuckled and tilted his head, watching her. “How close are you to the main branch of your family?”

She glanced away, shoulders lifting slightly. “Not too close. I think I’m third cousins with Naobito Zenin? Or something like that.” She made a face. “Honestly, I stop listening when they start going on about bloodlines and status. It’s all boring politics and who’s breeding with who.”

“What about you?” she asked after a moment, eyes brightening with playful interest. “You’re a Gojo, right?”

“I’m the heir,” he replied simply, skipping another rock across the pond with a practiced flick. His voice was softer now, thoughtful.

“Oh,” she said, voice quiet. She rested her chin on her knees and skipped a rock of her own, watching it ripple the surface. “I’m sure that’s more stressful than my duty. All I have to do is get married and throw out some babies.”

“Bleh…” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head with a faint smile. “That sounds worse. I mean, at least I get to make my own rules once I take over.”

She looked at him then, intrigued. “You think they’ll let you?”

He smirked, tossing another pebble and watching it disappear into the water. “They won’t have a choice.” She laughed softly at his bold words, kicking her bare feet through the grass as her kimono rustled around her ankles. “I wish I could make my own rules too,” she said, tilting her head toward him with a small pout.

Gojo laughed, wide and unfiltered, like only a child could. “Just get strong enough and you could,” he said with a grin, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

She shook her head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m just a girl,” she said quietly.

“So?” he replied immediately, his brows scrunching as he looked at her. There was no mockery in his voice—just genuine confusion, like he truly didn’t understand why that would matter.

Her lips tugged into a faint smile. “If I misbehave too much… my father will take it out on my mother,” she murmured.

His playful energy dimmed, and he sighed as he stared out over the pond. “Your clan is so outdated,” he said. “It’s stupid.”

She gave a breathy laugh and nodded. “Yep.”

Then, suddenly, he turned to her, his eyes lit up again. “Hey, what if I marry you?” he asked, as if the idea had just bloomed like a flower in his mind.

She blinked at him, surprised, then giggled behind her hand. “No way. They wouldn’t let you.”

“Why not?” he frowned, clearly not understanding the politics that loomed over their world.

She smiled kindly. “Your parents probably want you to marry someone more important. I’m not even in the main branch.”

He huffed, crossing his arms, then got up and walked off into the trees. She tilted her head, watching him curiously until he returned a few minutes later, hands full of picked flowers and long strands of grass.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he sat beside her again, but he just grinned and started weaving.

She stayed quiet, watching his small fingers fumble with the flowers and stems, occasionally sticking his tongue out in concentration. It was clumsy, but somehow delicate.

Eventually, he stood and held out his hand. “Come on.”

She laughed and took it, letting him tug her toward a willow tree near the edge of the pond. Its hanging branches swayed gently in the evening breeze.

He turned to her, eyes bright, and dropped to one knee with exaggerated ceremony. Her mouth fell open as she watched him lift a tiny ring, woven from grass and little white wildflowers.

He slid it carefully onto her finger. “With this ring, I promise to love and protect you forever, you will be my wife” he said, mimicking words he’d probably heard in some grown-up ceremony, his tone serious but his cheeks pink.

Her heart thumped in her chest—not in the way adults feel love, but in that innocent, warm way only children understand. “Mhm!” she replied cheerfully.

He handed her another ring, this one plain grass, and she dropped to her knees too, ignoring the way her kimono brushed the dirt.

He gasped. “That’s not how it works! The girl doesn’t have to kneel!” he giggled, and she burst out laughing, springing back to her feet and quickly slipping the makeshift ring onto his finger.

Then, to seal the deal, he leaned forward and pressed a fast, smacking kiss to her cheek. “Muah!”

She laughed as he grabbed both her hands and began to swing them back and forth between them.

“Now we’re married!” he declared. “Your dad can’t make you marry anyone else!”

She beamed at him, her smile wide and innocent. “Yay!”

Under the willow tree, in a world far removed from curses and clan duties, two children shared a secret promise only they would ever know. When it grew too dark to pretend the world beyond the clan walls was theirs alone, the two finally made their way back to the Gojo estate. Y/n’s small hand stayed in his the entire walk, her tiny fingers curling around his with quiet determination. Her feet were muddy, and her kimono hem was wrinkled and grass-stained, but she didn’t care.

They entered the grand hall where the clan heads had gathered, the heavy silence of the room falling around them like a veil. Conversations hushed. Every pair of eyes turned toward the disheveled pair—some curious, others annoyed. The only person who didn’t seem surprised was the woman near the center, who looked enough like the boy for Y/n to assume she was his mother. She let out a soft, barely-there chuckle, her hand lifting to cover her smile.

The boy beside Y/n didn’t hesitate. He raised their joined hands proudly into the air, the little ring of woven flowers catching the light. “We’re married now!” he declared, grinning widely at his mother.

The room froze. For a moment, no one knew what to say.

Then the door slammed open.

“There you are—!” Y/n’s father’s voice rang out, sharp and full of restrained fury. He was red-faced and breathing hard as he stormed into the hall, eyes locking onto her.

But before she could even flinch, the boy stepped forward and yanked her protectively to his side. “She’s my wife now!” he said firmly, puffing out his small chest. “You can’t give her to anyone else. That’s how it works!”

Y/n blinked up at him, startled—but the surprise quickly melted into laughter. She nodded and faced her father with as much courage as she could muster. “Yep! I’m part of the Gojo clan now, not the Zenins!” she chirped, lifting her flower-ringed hand to show him with a proud grin.

Her father’s jaw tightened. His gaze darted from her to the boy, then swept toward the elders sitting silently in the room. The weight of the clan leaders’ eyes made his stance stiffen. He looked..if only for a second..uncomfortable.

Without another word, he strode forward, grabbed Y/n by the waist, and hoisted her up roughly. “I apologize for my daughter’s insolence,” he said quickly to the room. “It won’t happen again.”

Y/n squirmed in his grip, reaching back toward the boy as she was carried away. “Wait! We’re married!” she cried, her voice high and upset.

The boy lunged forward with a loud, “give her back!” but his mother caught him swiftly, scooping him up into her own arms before he could chase after her. She looked to the elders, offering a casual shrug and a knowing smile.

“Children,” she said simply, as if that explained everything. Years passed, but the memory of that summer evening beneath the willow tree never left her. Not even after her body grew taller and matured. Not even after she was taught to bow just right and speak only when spoken to.

Then her father finally worked up the nerve to bring her back to another clan meeting, this time to parade her like a prize mare, hoping to finally trade her off for political favor, she found herself wanting to search every hallway and garden path for him...

She stepped through the entrance of the Gojo estate with quiet grace, her floral, baby-blue kimono trailing gently along the stone floor. Her father walked beside her, his hand firm on the small of her back, voice low and commanding.

“Remember to be charming. I’ll handle the negotiations.” He didn’t look at her when he spoke, just offered a slight nod of approval as if she were a product he was proud to sell.

Y/n gave a small, practiced smile and returned the nod. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. Her silence was part of the appeal.

They made their rounds through the outer rooms, her father shaking hands and chuckling with the parents of potential suitors. He introduced her with flowery words.. “a woman grown now,” he claimed, though she had only just turned fifteen. Y/n smiled softly at each of them, bowed her head when appropriate, kept her thoughts locked tight behind her lips.

But he didn’t take her into the main room. Not the one he’d dragged her from all those years ago.

And still, she watched. She waited.

Then.. just for a second, her heart stuttered.

White hair. A boy- no, not a boy anymore…stood near the far end of the corridor. Taller now. Broader. But unmistakably him. That shock of snowy hair, those crystalline eyes. Her breath caught, and the smile that curved her lips came without thinking.

Without a word, she slipped away from her father’s side.

“Y/n!” his voice snapped behind her, sharp and rising, but she didn’t stop. She hurried her steps, weaving through the crowd, her heartbeat thudding in her chest as she glanced back-

And collided headlong into someone.

Her balance faltered, but strong hands steadied her. She blinked up, heart still racing…and there he was. The Gojo boy. Except he wasn’t quite a boy anymore. He stood like a dream pulled straight from a forgotten story, blinking down at her with a stunned expression.

He rubbed the back of his head where she’d bumped him, cocking his head slightly, eyes narrowing in mild confusion.

Then his gaze sharpened, recognition dawning.

“It’s you,” he said, voice low and almost disbelieving.

Y/n grinned, her fingers slipping into the hidden pocket of her kimono. She pulled out something small, something pressed flat and time-worn: a ring made of wilted white flower stems and faded grass.

“It’s me,” she said, holding it out between them like a secret only they remembered.

His smile bloomed slowly, stretching wide as the memory settled between them. He didn’t need to say anything else. They had been children when they made that promise..but she could see it in his eyes.

He remembered. Without thinking, he reached down and laced his fingers with hers, just like he had done before. His grip was warm, steady, and before she could ask where they were going, he was already pulling her along through the estate.

They passed clusters of older sorcerers who paused to watch them, some arching brows, others whispering behind fans. But neither of them cared. They breezed past the grand hallways, beyond the courtyards, and into the open air. The gardens blurred by them in a rush of green and soft floral scent, until the looming silhouette of the willow tree came into view.

They both laughed the whole way there, breathless and grinning, the years falling away like petals on the wind. He led her beneath the familiar curtain of branches, and then, with some effort and a bit of fumbling, he helped her climb up into the tree.

They perched on a pair of thick branches, high enough to see the glint of the estate rooftops through the foliage. The breeze rustled the leaves above them like whispers, and Y/n hugged the trunk to steady herself as she beamed across at him.

“I’ve gotten a lot stronger since we last saw each other,” he said proudly, one foot swinging beneath the branch. “I go to Jujutsu High now.”

Y/n nodded with a soft smile, resting her cheek against her knees. “You’re living the dream, huh?” she teased. “Meanwhile, I go to an all-girls school. No Jujutsu. Just tea ceremonies and endless etiquette.”

He made a face, and she laughed.

“But!” she added quickly, eyes brightening, “I wanted to show you something.”

She sat up straighter and formed a quick hand sign. From the base of the tree, something slithered up through the hanging branches..a shimmering serpent with scales of pale green and lavender. It coiled easily around her arm, flicking a gentle tongue toward her cheek.

His eyes widened. “Is that- Shikigami?”

She grinned and nodded. “Mhm. I’ve been practicing in secret for years. My father has no idea… but my mother knows. She helps me hide it.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, maybe admiration, maybe pride. “That’s seriously cool,” he said. “I’ve never seen one like that before.”

Y/n blushed slightly, giving the snake a soft pat as it curled around her wrist like a bracelet. “Thanks. I… didn’t think I’d ever get to show it to you.”

He smiled, then began demonstrating some of the techniques he’d picked up at Jujutsu High. Simple movements, bursts of cursed energy she could almost feel from across the tree. She watched, captivated, not by the display itself, but by him. Every flick of his wrist, every flash of focus in his eyes.

He had changed. But not so much that she didn’t recognize the boy who once crowned her his bride under these very branches.

As she watched him, her hand absently drifted to her side, fingertips brushing the edge of her pocket where she still kept the faded grass ring, tucked away like a promise.

He was practically her husband, wasn’t he?

It was a game back then. A silly thing. Children pretending to understand love and marriage. But even now, with years between them, the promise still felt real..soft and sacred in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

A smile tugged at her lips as he looked over and grinned.

A promise is still a promise. Their laughter echoed through the branches, soft and uncontained, as the sun dipped low behind the hills of the estate. The willow leaves danced above them in the golden light, some falling like little ribbons of green onto their hair and shoulders. Y/n shifted closer along the thick branch until their sides touched, and gently rested her head on his shoulder.

She took a slow, steady breath..he smelled faintly of wind and pine, and something warm she couldn’t name. He let out a breath of his own, arm hesitating before it slipped around her waist with an awkward kind of care.

“Things have changed a lot,” he said quietly, voice softer than before. “I’ve gotten close with this guy, Suguru Geto. He’s… like a brother to me now. My best friend.” He paused. “I really have been doing well.”

Y/n smiled against his shoulder and hummed in response. “I’m glad,” she whispered, and meant it.

Then, as if only just realizing, she blinked and tilted her head up slightly. “Hey… what’s your name?”

He looked down at her, blinking wide in surprise. “We never said, did we?” A crooked smile tugged at his lips. “Satoru. Gojo Satoru.”

She smiled back. “Y/n Zenin.”

“Y/n,” he repeated, as if tasting it, storing it away somewhere important.

They stayed like that for what felt like forever, speaking in soft voices about silly things—things that didn’t matter but meant everything in that moment. The stars began to prick the sky above them, and the shadows around the tree deepened.

Eventually, reality returned with the heaviness of it. Y/n sighed, her fingers lacing through his loosely.

“My father’s going to be furious that I ran off… I probably won’t be allowed back for a while,” she said, her voice small. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, not wanting to let go yet.

He paused, then looked at her with an intensity she hadn’t seen in a boy before. “I’d still marry you, you know,” he said. “I’ll be old enough soon. Old enough that no one else’s decisions will matter.”

Her breath caught slightly, and her heart ached in the most unfamiliar but beautiful way. She didn’t laugh or tease, just reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand, her thumb brushing gently against his skin.

“I’ll hold you to it, then,” she whispered, leaning forward and placing the softest kiss on his cheek.

He blinked, cheeks turning a shade pinker, but he smiled. Then, before she could pull away, he caught her hand in his, holding it tightly.

He leaned in.

Their lips met, uncertain but sweet, a little clumsy and inexperienced—nothing like the dramatic kisses in storybooks. It was slow, careful. Honest. A promise pressed between two children who didn’t yet know how heavy a promise could become.

But for that moment, it was everything.

And it was perfect.

When they returned to the estate, the chaos was immediate.

Her father’s voice cut through the dusk like a whip, sharp and humiliated. He grabbed Y/n by the wrist in front of everyone, yanking her away from Satoru as though tearing her from something she needed. She stumbled but didn’t fight. She didn’t even look back.

Satoru had never felt so useless. His fists clenched at his sides, but he didn’t move. Not in front of the elders. Not when he knew he was still too young to protect her the way he wanted to. Instead, he turned and ran..straight to his mother.

He told her everything. The garden, the willow tree, the rings. The kiss.

She didn’t scold him. She only pulled him close and held him.

Months passed.

No letters came. No news. No one dared speak her name or mention her father, not even in whispers. Satoru tried once, a quiet question at dinner, his mother only frowned and said, “It’s not our place to interfere.”

But he wanted to interfere. He missed her.

So he wrote her a letter anyway. He was eighteen now. Old enough to be serious. Old enough to make a promise and mean it. He asked her to marry him again, for real this time. A formal proposal, with a seal from the Gojo clan.

No reply ever came.

Years blurred past. The pain didn’t fade, not really, it simply settled deeper, buried beneath missions and lessons and power. By the time he became the official head of the Gojo clan, her name had become a secret ache he rarely allowed himself to feel.

But then—

She walked through the front doors of the Gojo estate, calm and poised beside a member of the Kamo clan.

Satoru’s breath caught before he could mask it. She was older now, of course. So was he. Her hair was longer, her face sharper, refined. But he recognized the tilt of her head, the shape of her eyes, the way her fingers brushed against the hem of her kimono the same way they had when she was nervous as a child.

And on her finger, gleaming silver..a ring.

He didn’t speak to her during the meeting. Didn’t risk it. Not when everything inside him was unsteady. He only listened, nodded, and smiled when appropriate. His heart had long since sunk.

When it was over, he searched for her..compelled by something he couldn’t name. And there she was, where he knew she’d be, sitting on a bench beneath the old willow tree. Of course it was that tree.

She looked up as he approached.

She had changed so much, matured in ways Satoru had never imagined, but her eyes still held that same soft sadness. Her lips trembled just slightly as she met his gaze.

“He made me do it,” she whispered, her voice thin and low. “He didn’t give me a choice.”

He knew what she was talking about. She held out her hand, showing him the ring, and Satoru felt something in his chest fracture.

He didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

All he could do was stand there, the wind catching in his hair, and stare at the girl he once married under leaves and laughter,,now bound to someone else.

Because of hatred. Because of fear. Because power in their world always meant sacrifice. Her father’s last chance on regaining some control on her, by not letting her marry the boy she really loved.

And somehow, despite everything, he still loved her. The bench beneath the willow tree was new. Satoru had it placed there years ago..quietly, without explaining why. Just a small thing, carved smooth from pale wood, nestled under the curtain of swaying green. For memory. For her.

Now, she sat there.

And before he could stop himself, he moved beside her. He didn’t ask. He didn’t speak.

He simply took her hand, delicate and trembling in his palm, and pressed his lips to it.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said hoarsely, barely more than a breath. “I don’t care.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. She smiled, but it was broken at the edges.

“I’m so sorry…” she whispered, her voice fragile, before leaning into him. Her arms wound around his waist, her body curling toward his like she had nowhere else in the world to go. Her shoulders shook, but she didn’t make a sound. Just wept quietly into his chest.

Satoru held her tightly. He pressed his face into her hair, breathing in everything he’d missed for years..jasmine and rain and something he only ever associated with her. He didn’t let go. Not until she pulled back on her own.

They didn’t stay long. He knew better. Knew her husband,,whoever that man was, would be waiting..

But just before she turned to leave, he caught her hand again and moved his other to cradle her face. And this time, when he kissed her, it wasn’t like the stolen brush of lips from their childhood beneath this tree.

It was deep and lingering and full of aching years. It was a promise kept, even if the world had broken every rule around them. When she pulled away, her eyes were shining again, but this time, there was something warmer in them too. Something alive.

He let her go.

But his heart stayed with her.

—

Not long after, maybe two years had passed, a child was born to the Kamo clan members wife.

Satoru attended the gathering, as was expected. The heads of the major clans were all present, polite and measured as they offered congratulations. Y/n was radiant, cradling a baby boy swaddled in pale silk, her arms curled around him with all the quiet ferocity of a lioness.

The boy had her eyes. Her smile. Her quiet intensity. And not a single feature of the man who stood stiffly beside her.

Except—there. A single streak of white ran through the child’s hair.

Just a whisper. A flicker. Almost unnoticeable to anyone else.

No one said a word. Not the Kamo head. Not the elders. Not even her husband, who stood unusually quiet through it all. Perhaps he noticed. Perhaps he didn’t. But if he had, he said nothing.

Because even he, like everyone else, feared the strongest sorcerer alive.

And only two people in the world would ever know the truth: the woman Satoru Gojo had once promised to marry beneath a willow tree… and the man who would’ve moved heaven itself to keep that promise.

If he couldn’t have her, couldn’t love her freely in the open, then this would be his quiet defiance.

His legacy.

The boy, with a streak of white in his hair, who smiled just like her.

Inspired by a request from @pooksrants <3

[solarisfortuneia]

— 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

✦ event: freedom is sweet.

✦ for: @zhongrin

✦ info / prompt: “sometimes (read: all the time) i want to just. hug their waist and pepper kisses ( + maybe even nibbles when i'm feeling chaotic >:) ) all over their back!! how do you think they would they react?” (zhongli: modern au. alhaitham: regular au.)

✦ warnings: none, i think. (i did proofread but i may have missed a mistake or two.)

✦ featuring: zhongli, alhaitham.

✦ notes: happy (belated) birthday rin!! my apologies for this being late, i wanted to make it perfect (it's not quite there, but i like it regardless and i hope you will too <3 mwah have a great day!!)

warm rays of sunlight stream in through open windows that zhongli insists on keeping open in the mornings, lighting up the entire kitchen, bouncing off cream colored walls. the plants by the windowsill are certainly grateful for it, considering how they seem to be thriving. they look happier than they’ve ever been.

and in the middle of the cozy scene stands your husband, still in his nightclothes, watering can in hand, amber eyes focused solely on his task. 

the scent of both coffee and tea floats gently to your nose, and you look to the side to see your favorite cup already set atop a warmer. soft, slow music plays through his phone on the table, the notes in harmony with the metallic clinks of the windchime.  oh, you think, smiling to yourself as you lean on the doorframe, arms crossed. he’s finally figured out how to put that song he likes on repeat.

“look at you,” he murmurs to his— well, technically, they’re yours, but at this point he’s practically claimed them as his own with how much attention he lavishes upon them on the daily— plants, affectionately running a finger along a vibrant green leaf. “you’re looking well this morning, aren’t you, little one?” 

an idea sparks to life in your head.

he turns to the right, moving to lightly water another plant, one with pale white flowers blooming happily. “good morning to you, dear,” he coos, gently turning it. “and to you too, madam.” he says to the one with vibrant red blooms. 

opportunity presents itself to you at precisely that very moment, where his back faces towards you and there is no possible chance for him to spot you in his peripherals. your feet, clad in socks, barely make a sound as you inch ever-so-carefully towards him. a brief pause, then a quiet inhale, and you pounce, arms locking around his waist as you pepper kisses all over his backside, quick and mischievous. 

a surprised ‘oof’ leaves his mouth, and he laughs when he realizes it’s you, setting aside the watering can. you lean up, nibbling at the nape of his neck, giggling alongside him. “good morning, my dearest.” he glances at you from over his shoulder, amusement in his expression. “how long have you been up?”

“long enough to see you talking to the flowers,” you tease playfully. “i know you’re an old, old man, but you’re not that old yet, are you?”

he clears his throat, revolving to meet your gaze. he grasps your face in his warm, calloused hands, before speaking. “studies show that talking to your plants and speaking positively to them can augment their growth by a considerable amount, dearest.” his lips quirk into a tiny, serene smile. “besides, i do quite enjoy doing it.”

you laugh, pressing more kisses to the tip of his nose and to his mouth in rapid succession. you feel his smile widen against your lips, which stays on his face long after you pull away.

“you certainly are affectionate today.” he chuckles. “well, then,” he looks to you for silent permission, ever the gentleman, hoisting you up into his arms when you consent, lips brushing over your eyelids, over your cheek and over your forehead.

“let me return the favor tenfold, my love.”

your shoes clack satisfyingly against the polished floors of the house of daena as you walk down the hallway. you pause to wave hello to the man standing near the lift to the grand sage’s office, then walk inside. if your estimates were correct, then you should be just in time for alhaitham’s lunch break.  

you push open the door to his office, forgoing the need to knock. the room is neat, clean and organized; just how he prefers it. you see him standing in front of his bookshelf, eyes scanning up and down, very clearly looking for something, familiar silver hair a little tousled. you walk normally towards him, knowing his headphones muffle the sound of your footsteps, and wrap your arms around his waist.

“boo,” you whisper in his ear, lifting his earpieces a little. “i’m here! did you miss me?”

he sighs contentedly when he feels your touch, book still in one hand, but the other moves to remove his headphones, then grasps your hand firmly. “i did,” he admits, leaning so the back of his head rests against yours. “everything is certainly duller without you around.”

he sighs again, wearily this time, setting the book down to run his fingers over his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose. “i’d much rather be at home with you than deal with paperwork. it seems as if people can't do anything themselves.”

“i know,” you whisper against the skin of his neck, smiling sympathetically. you hold him tighter, running your lips over his neck and his back, playfully nipping at his earlobe. your lips kiss every inch of him that you can reach, littering featherlight pecks all over.

he shakes his head at your antics, but the red that dusts his cheek (and the tips of his ears) and the barely contained grin on his face portray a different story. 

“why did you stop?” he asks when you pull away. his voice sounds disappointed, and you can’t help but laugh. how cute. “i never asked you to.” 

“i’m sorry,” you smooch his cheek in apology. your eyes fall to the clock on his desk. “ i'm glad i got to see you today, but i’ve got to go now.”

“where are you going off to?” he pulls you closer by your wrist when you start to move away, then intertwines his fingers with yours once again, brows knitting together. “stay. have lunch with me.”

“i only popped in to say hello,” you kiss the frown on his forehead. “i have to get back to work soon. my break ends much earlier than yours, remember?”

“i know, but you can still stay,” he glances at you. “i’ll send a letter to your boss after lunch. they won’t have a problem.”

“grand sage alhaitham!” you exclaim in mock-surprise, holding a hand to your mouth, eyes widening slightly. “are you really going to use your position to get me to have lunch with you? what would people at the akademiya think of this?” 

“acting grand sage,” he reminds you, leaning over to softly touch his lips to your forehead, used to your theatrics. “good thing i don’t care what they think. besides,” he adds, “i’m sure lesser lord kusanali wouldn’t mind, and is she not the boss of us all?”

you laugh. “i suppose that reasoning is sound.”

he extends his arm for you to hold. “then let's get going.”

taglist: @kissedbysilk @ilyuu @xiaosonlybeloved @ineshapanda @soleillunne @supernova25 @vixianne @downwithlean

bold: unable to be tagged! please check your settings or let me know if you've changed urls <3

[reyesstrand]

I wish you would write a fic where the kitchen gadget Carlos has been eyeing goes on sale and TK surprises Carlos with it.

Something they don’t tell you about losing your home to a fire, is that the grief comes in uncontrollable waves.

There’s the initial numbness, the tears they share together in the quiet comfort of a shower stall that’s not quite big enough for two grown men. There’s the days of unknowing—of waiting to completely survey the damage, of insurance reports, of phone calls that never seem to end. There’s the blooming hope of community as their friends and coworkers and old neighbours offer condolences; bring over old clothes and donated books and bits and pieces they can use to start to rebuild.

For the most part, it’s about taking things day by day, as they come back to life under his dad’s roof.

A week after the fire, TK leaves Carlos passed out in bed with a kiss to his cheek. He wants to get some errands done, to scratch some things off their list, and maybe he’ll get some coffee on his way back. The sky’s full of swollen grey clouds, rain threatening to fall at any moment, and so TK moves quickly to and from his car as he hits store after store. He finds nicer towels, he finds the skincare he’d been missing out on this past week, he finds the shampoo Carlos had asked him to look for. He’s taking a shortcut through the home and kitchen section of the store when he spots it.

The fancy pasta maker has been something Carlos has been eyeing for months. He loved making TK lavish homemade meals, and TK would often come home to the stand mixer out with the pasta attachment going, as Carlos wiped his flour-covered hands and greeted TK with a wide smile and kiss to his jaw. It’s not something Carlos would prioritize now, when they have so much to do. It’s exactly why TK picks up the box and puts it in his cart, determined to purchase it even before he spots the 30% off sticker, and it feels like a sign.

“Hey baby,” TK says, smiling as Carlos looks up from the kitchen island where he’s nursing a smoothie left for him by Owen. He holds up the carrier with two large coffees stamped with their favourite local cafe’s logo, and Carlos’ expression softens as he accepts the cup. “I got something for you.”

“I see that,” Carlos smiles, taking a long sip before pressing his lips to TK’s temple; to the corner of his mouth. “Thanks, babe.”

TK presses his lips together. “Something else.”

Carlos furrows his brows at him and TK holds up a finger; he dips back out of the house and winces at the rain that’s pouring, now, as he grabs the canvas bag and tucks the big box under his arm. Carlos is waiting for him in the doorway, his mouth slightly parted in unexpected surprise. “Babe, what—”

“I know how much you’ve wanted a proper one,” TK says, putting it down on the counter. “And after everything, I just wanted you to have something nice.”

“You’re too good, TK,” Carlos murmurs, not even looking at the pasta maker anymore and instead squishing TK’s face between his palms. “Thank you.”

“Love you,” TK says, as Carlos ducks in close and kisses him properly. He feels it down in his toes.

“I love you too,” Carlos says, the words pressed into the next kiss. “So much.”

(Years later, TK will walk into the home they made together, always sparing a moment to bask in the late-afternoon sunlight pouring in the windows and the soft music playing from the kitchen. Years later, Carlos will have pots on the stove, of slow simmering sauce he’s had going for hours while he feeds a dough he’s long-since perfected into their cherished pasta maker, looking over his shoulder at the right moment to watch TK, soft-eyed, take in the sight before him. Years later, the grief still curls around their spines, but as they kiss with flour marking their skin and rings on their fingers, love is what conquers all).

(i wish you would write a fic where…game!)

[sanjisprincesss]

Shadows and Sunlight

Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: none. Let me know if i missed anything!

Izzy’s notey: first fic for my beloved red hood. Constructive criticism is always appreciated as well as reblogs <3

The rain had slowed to a drizzle by the time Jason pushed open the fire escape window. You were sitting on the couch, surrounded by books and half-empty coffee mugs, but you knew he was there before he even stepped inside.

“Rough night?” you asked, setting your book down as he climbed in.

“Something like that,” he muttered, pulling off his damp leather jacket and tossing it over the back of a chair. His hair was wet, clinging to his forehead, and there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there when he left.

You watched as he crossed the room, his movements heavier than usual, and sat on the edge of the couch. He didn’t look at you right away, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“You’re hurt,” you said, noticing the way he was cradling his side.

“It’s nothing,” he replied quickly, brushing you off. But when you moved closer, kneeling in front of him, he didn’t stop you from lifting the hem of his shirt.

A fresh bruise was blooming across his ribs, dark and angry against his pale skin. You frowned, your fingers ghosting over the injury without touching.

“Jason…”

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said, finally meeting your eyes. “I’ve had worse.”

“That’s not the point,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

He let out a dry laugh, though there was no real humor in it. “What, and drag you into this mess even more than I already have?”

“You’re not dragging me into anything,” you said, your hands resting gently on his knees. “I’m here because I want to be. Because I care about you, even when you try to shut me out.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. His jaw tightened, and you could see the internal battle playing out behind his eyes. Jason Todd didn’t let people in easily. Trust, for him, was a fragile thing, earned through shared scars and quiet moments like this one.

“I don’t deserve this,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached up, brushing a strand of damp hair away from his face. “Yes, you do,” you said, your tone unwavering. “You deserve someone who cares about you. Someone who sees past the Red Hood and the walls you put up. And if you’re going to keep doing this dangerous, insane thing you do every night, then I’m going to be here to make sure you come back in one piece.”

His lips quirked into a faint smile, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one,” you shot back, earning a soft chuckle from him.

Jason reached out, his hand resting lightly against your cheek. “You’re too good for me,” he murmured.

“And yet, here I am,” you replied, leaning into his touch.

For the first time that night, Jason allowed himself to relax. The weight he carried every day—the guilt, the anger, the endless fight—felt just a little lighter with you there. And as he pulled you into his arms, holding you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded, he realized that maybe, just maybe, you were right.

He wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

[sulumuns-dootah]

Assigning WHB demons plants/flowers based off the vibes: Abyssos

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: I think I need to start attending some botany classes again bc from the way these post are turning into me rambling about plants i can tell I miss it :D

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Nepenthes rajah

I don't think this plant has a common name, but if it did it would be smth like Rat/Mouse eating pitcher plant

Bc that's exactly what the plant does

It's just big enough for the small rodent to climb into and never see the light of day again

This also probably explains why I picked it for Beel

I mean, he literally eats angels whole

(I find pitcher plants really cool bc they're literally just a pitchers filled with digestive fluid, but they're not necessary carnivorous - some life off of animal droppings or insects)

       ༺☆༻

Venus flytrap - Dionaea muscipula

At first i was gonna include maybe some other pitcher plant or completely different plant...

But then again, Bael is literally catching the King of flies on daily basis

Idk why, but looking at pics of the open leaves is really calming to me

Having them is kinda cool bc sometimes you just walk past and see one of their leaves closed bc it caught a fly and you'll feel kinda proud of your little baby for catching something

From my experience they don't close when you give them dead one, though

They might also be a bit harder to keep alive...

Mine made it few months, but then bloomed and died shortly after I cut the flower off (similar thing also happened to my friend who specialises in succulents and carnivorous plants so I don't think I did anything wrong)

       ༺☆༻

Poison Ivy - Toxicodendron

At first I was thinking I'll give Stolas something bird-named, but I really wantd somethinig that looks harmless, and the moment you mess with, you're in for a lot of pain

And this plant baby delivers

I've never had the misfortune of meeting it, but I haver heard the stories

For those who don't know: Contanct wiht the plant gives you a nasty rash, sometimes with some blisters

Interestingly, looking it up on wikipedia, there's even what would happen if you smoked or eaten it....

As if you'd wanna do that after getting a rash just touching that thing

(You skin is pretty much reacting to the oil on the leaves, so after you come to contact make sure to wash it off or you'll spread it on other things too)

       ༺☆༻

Hypoestes

I can only talk about this moody beauty from experience since there isn't much info online

From what I've found there's about 150 scpecies in this family

Doesn't require much sunlight, but needs water

And oh boy, the amount of water...

The reason why I picked this plant for Amon is how easy it is for the leaves to start drooping

Just like him being constantly tired

But oh boy, the drooping... One minute she looks good and then two minutes later she's on the verge of death

It's not good to have planters just sitting in water bc of the risk of mold, but this one might just need it

       ༺☆༻

Common Ivy - Hedera Helix

Originally I wanted to go again with a plant based off his animal form, but then while writing for Amon, I saw normal Ivy

The ultimate Dark Academia plant that looks so good growing around anything

It's perfect for a demon they sometimes call Class President

I really love Common Ivy bc of how much you can use her for

Amazing use for Ivy is putting her into floral arrangements and the amazing thing is that it'll mostly keep its color as long as it's not left out in the rain or your glue gun set on too high temperature

Fun fact: The leaves of the plant are different on normal branches from the branches with a flower

[elektrantchios]

Wild flowers | s.p

pairing: Sejanus x gn!reader

summary: Sejanus finds you in the meadow

warnings: mainly fluff, small mentions of the games and some light spoilers for the movie and book

word count: 800

a/n: saw the movie a few nights ago and wow, I’m me fashion i did like the book better but the movie was still amazing and I have the old therebefore on repeat . I wrote this for my bestie because she couldn’t find Sejanus fics. This probably could be edited better

MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN

The summer air was sweet, the flowers of the meadow had bloomed overnight, as far as the eye could see. Lily of the valley, young primeroses , deep purple violets, and dozens more you couldn’t name.

Hidden behind a massive tree, its leaves shading you from the harsh sun. This time of year in district 12 was unbearable. Only the rich could afford to keep cool, and you certainly wasn’t that.

Six days out of the week you worked in the local doctor’s. It couldn’t quite be called a hospital but it was one of the only places people could go and get medical care.

You lent back against the tree, weaving your hands through the tall grass and flowers. Bees buzzed but gave no mind to you. The day was turning out well, you had brought some fresh bakers bread and a lump of cheese, and a jug of water. Simple and delicious.

The mockingjays song hit your ears, the tune was familiar but the name escaped you. Humming along, some words came to mind.

Here it's safe, here it's warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you

Deep in the meadow, a song a local brand was known to play, you had only seen them a handful of times but the songs stuck. Like it had for the birds.

The sound of stones falling and fallen twigs snapping pulled you out of a dream and jumping to your feet, frowning in the sunlight you spotted, Sejanus Plinth.

Sejanus had been a peacekeeper once but shortly after he had found his way to the doctors, where he was training to be a medic. He rarely spoke about this life before 12 but from the times he had (and from what the doctors said) he came from a rich family in the capitol.

“You following me, Sejanus?” you asked. Your tone was serious, his whole body went still. Then you laughed. “Come sit with me then, might even share my food with you”.

In his hand he carried a brown paper bag, “then I guess you can have some of mine”. He dropped the bag in your lap, opening the bag you found cookies.

Now this was proof he was rich, the baker sold cookies but only the other merchants could afford them Sejanus went on to explain, his Ma had sent them, blushing the whole time.

The shy blushed look made you laugh, “that’s very sweet of her, she must miss you an awful lot”.

“Just as I miss her” he replied in a sad voice.

“You might see her again, learn enough and you could go back to her” you said, laying a hand over his. His hands were cold, cold hands warm heart you mama used to say.

“I don’t want to go back there” he said.

What you said next came as a surprise to even her, “I can teach you a few things, like what plants heal and where to find them”.

“You’d do that” he asked unsure.

“Of course. We don’t have many doctors here and if you’re planning on staying I’d teach you”. You stood, putting the cookies on your bag. “There’s a lake deeper in the woods, you’ll find all the best stuff there”.

He followed and stood up looking through the trees, maybe he didn’t trust you and thought you were leading him to his death.

“Hey” you touched his hand again, “keep north and you’ll find the lake then it’s south to get back, you can trust me”.

He smiled and suddenly the sun seemed dimmer, he took your hand and squeezed it ,“okay, I trust you”.

The hike took a few hours, but the sight of the lake proved it was worth it. You found a patch of herbs close by one of the old houses, it might have been someone’s garden once.

You showed him peppermint that helped with nausea, liquorice to reduce swelling, lemon balm for sleep and any others you could make without the book of herbs and flowers you had at home.

“Where did you learn all this?” He rubbed a peppermint leaf between his finger and thumb. You pick a lemon Balm inhaling the smell, smiling.

“My mama was an apothecary, always been my dream to follow in her footsteps. What about you? Do you have any dreams?”.

“To help people anyway I can”

It was so easy to talk to him, somewhere in your heart you knew he’d understand. Maybe it was his eyes, brown the colour of chocolate. Sejanus was sweet, too sweet for the world, you thought that if it rained he’d melt away like sugar.

“I have a feeling you’re gonna do wonderful things Sejanus” I smiled and he smiled back.

[sleep-0-deprived]

Male yosano x Male reader, their first date and male yosano being male reader’s gay awakening.

Male Yosano x male reader first date~! (kinda short but I hope you like cause I had fun writing it) ૮꒰๑´ ᵕˋ๑꒱ა

WC:. 930

Tags: just mostly tooth rotting fluff, picnic dates, sexuality realization, first time boyfriends, vulnerable male reader ‹𝟹

A/N: I actually really liked this! I don’t do much fluff but every one needs some fluff in their lives ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🍒ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You sat on a subway train, sunlight streaming into your window shining next to where you sat. You kept running the thumb pad over your thigh trying to think about something else other than the fact you got asked out on a date by your purple haired co worker— well maybe it’s not even a date? He never specified that. What if it’s not a date and you were just reading it all wrong?

All you could think about was “is this a date or not! Do I want it to be a date?” You started over thinking everything that could happen, everything you wanted to happen. Feeling sick in your gut like you swallowed butterfly’s. The thought of this not being a date made your heart flair and swell before clenching up with sadness making you ready to burst like a water balloon being thrown.

Before anymore thoughts could fizz out the train had made its stop, standing up blank minded like a zombie walking past all of the other passengers getting off and onto the platform taking a deep breath in of japans spring air. The smell of baked goods at the cafe around the corner- the smell of the ripe peach trees on the outer edge of the city somehow felt innocent to you.

Then you saw him, Yosano standing with a smile at the other end of the platform holding a beige basket and a bouquet of perfectly bloomed daisy’s with cherry blossoms for accent setting a pink and white theme. “I hope I’m not late Yosano” a sheepish smile graced your face standing in an average pair of jeans and a light colored sweater.

“You’re fine [name], I was just early is all!” The purple haired man just smiled at you idly before handing you the flowers “I didn’t know what flowers you’d like so I just got the ones that reminded me of you most” taking the flowers from his hand as he guides you out of the train station area

Walking down the side walk of Yokohama with the sun hanging midway in the sky above whilst the clouds flowed by, Yosano’s hand holding the basket of the assorted food while reaching another hand over to hold yours. You feel giddy inside and embarrassed too as he makes a turn taking you into an older looking park.

The park was well kept but not pristine, a mother and daughter on a bench while a dog owner played with his dog but Yosano knew the perfect little spot for the two of you. Down a narrow little path behind the park where a bunch of grown up vines and tall weeds stood he’d pull you along to a secluded spot by the river bay sitting next to a tall oak tree just out of view from the rest of the park.

“This is a nice spot” you try to start a conversation and get your mind off of the internal panic you were having, Yosano putting down a blanket on the grass for the two of you with before sitting his picnic basket down in the middle taking a seat next to it and looking up at you “yeah, I remember in high school I used to go to this park a lot, when I found this spot it became my own little sanctuary”

“Sorry if this seems random, but what exactly is this?..what are we even?” You blurt out unable to take it feeling on edge looking at Yosano when you sit down on the blanket watching him silently when he sits right across from you. I mean sure you and him work

Closely together, ear lunch in the armed detective agency together, share sideway glances from your cubical when no one can see, but that didn’t mean anything right? You always thought of it as an admiration for your work senior but you couldn’t deny the thought of being more felt comforting.

“Well it’s a date obviously, and as for what are we, I hope by the end of the day you’ll say you’re my boyfriend” the purplette says with a confident smile while opening up the picnic basket and getting all the food he packed out. A trey of rice balls and various small sandwiches sitting on trees when he sits them on the top of the picnic basket and sits them between the two of you.

“I’ve never been with a man before Yosano, I don’t even know if I like men….but something about you makes me go crazy” you whisper out in return looking at him while reaching for a rice ball and taking a bite silently not knowing you just described a crush to him. “Well whatever we are or aren’t, I’d like to be something with you and I’m willing to take as long as we need to work [name]”

Yosano placed his hand on top of the hand resting in your lap and rubs his thumb over the knuckle quietly comforting you and being calm about the confusion. “I think I wanna try dating Yosano, you mean a lot t’me and I think I like you more than friendly” the sound of a small clap came from Yosano.

“We’ll take things slow all right baby? I want you to be comfortable” he coos gently to you just smiling softly and staying close to you for the rest of the time. Conversation after conversation making you forget why you ever doubted it. Yosano has a way of rubbing off his confidence onto you easing your nerves.

“Thank you Yosano”

[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

23: I Think I Like This Little Life

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)

Warnings: fluuuuuff

a/n: New chapter!!! As you canread it, the ending of the story is coming closer...

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

Masterlist

Pinterest

previous part | next part

If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

House hunting.

I remember doing it when I bought my apartment in Florence, and the memory I have of it was a good one. I was excited, being paid for the first time after my first season in Formula 1, buying all the furniture I wanted and the decorations I liked. I was excited to put my signature on a paper that said that I had a house in my name.

But now, pregnant for seven months, is a living nightmare. My back hurts, my legs hurt, my ankles are swollen, I need to go to the bathroom every now and then. 

“I swear to God, if this house is not a dreamy one, I will buy again my apartment, I don't care if I just sold it” I groaned, rubbing my belly while watching the screen of Charles' phone guiding us to the location of the last house we found.

“I promise, you'll like it” Charles laughed, holding my hand and squeezing it softly. 

“You said the same with the last two ones we visited” I protested. “And at the end of the tour you said something bad about them”

“They didn't have enough light!” he exclaimed, laughing.

“Oh, fuck off! Nikola Tesla invented the light bulb for something!” I groaned.

“But it's better when you have natural light, love” he sighed, rubbing my belly. “And those houses didn't have enough rooms”

“Enough? Charles, both of them had at least four rooms!”

“Sure, but what about our offices? And a room for the baby? And what if… I don't know, what if we have more kids?” he sighed. “We need space, love…”

“Y-yeah, but…” 

“I promise, you will like this one” he smiled.

I sighed and nodded, looking out of the window again. The sun was shining brightly in the April sky, a soft breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers as we drove through the outskirts  of Milano. The fields were starting to turn green again, a reminder that life always continues, even after loss. 

It had been a few weeks since Athena passed away, and the ache of it still lingered in my chest, but something about this day, like the way the sunlight hit the trees and the gentle kicks from Dorian in my belly, felt different. There was hope again, even if it was just a little.

I placed a hand on my belly while I let go a long sigh, feeling Dorian’s gentle kicks beneath my palm. Seven months along, and it still amazed me how close we were to meeting him.

“You okay?” Charles asked, moving his hand to my belly without tearing off his eyes from the road.

“Yeah” I sighed. “Your son, however, thinks he's the one who's driving this car”

“He's excited. Maybe he knows we’re close to finding his first home” Charles laughed, rubbing my belly.

I chuckled, looking at Charles, his hand resting on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead. He looked calm, but I knew him well enough to sense the excitement simmering beneath the surface.

As we turned onto a narrow, tree-lined road, the GPS beeped. We took a deep breath, trying to calm our nerves while we looked at what we had in front of us: a house with beige walls that were softened by the ivy that climbs to the brown brown. From the front of the house we could see the trees that were in the backyard, and the porch of the front had enough space to leave a few cars parked on it.

“Ready?” Charles asked, turning off the car.

“Let’s do it” I nodded, feeling a bit more of hope.

Getting out of the car was a bit more of a challenge than it had been a few months ago, but Charles was by my side in an instant, his hand on my back, guiding me gently as we walked up the gravel path toward the front door.

The agent, a woman in her late thirties with a bright smile, greeted us warmly and opened the door to let us inside.

And the moment we stepped in, I felt it. The house was filled with light, large, airy rooms with high ceilings and hardwood floors that felt warm underfoot. The living room opened up to a sprawling backyard, the kind where I could already imagine Dorian running around someday, his laughter echoing through the trees.

“What do you think?” Charles said, coming closer, smiling excitedly.

I walked slowly through the space and got in the kitchen, my hand trailing over the counter, imagining mornings here with coffee brewing, making breakfast, and Dorian babbling in his high chair. The kitchen was large, with enough space for us to grow into, and the windows above the sink overlooked the garden. I could picture us, years from now, filling this space with memories.

“It feels right” I said softly, turning to Charles. “It feels like home.”

“Let’s see the rest” he smiled, and I could see the relief in his eyes.

We explored the upstairs, where the master bedroom had a balcony that overlooked the property. I stepped out onto it, the wind catching my hair, and closed my eyes for a moment, letting myself dream. I imagined holding Dorian in my arms, standing right here, watching the sunset after a long day. I could hear the soft rustle of leaves, the distant hum of life, and it felt peaceful.

“You’re smiling” Charles said behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. 

“It just feels perfect. It’s everything I didn’t know I was looking for” I smiled, turning my head slightly to look at him.

“Yeah?” he smiled happily, pressing a kiss on my cheek. “Come look at this”

He held my hand and pulled me to the nearest room. And when we walked in, my heart nearly stopped.

The room was perfect for a nursery. The walls were white and ready to be painted, with big windows that let in so much light. It wasn’t too big, but just the right size to make it feel safe, intimate. I ran my hand over a wall, imagining a crib there with soft blankets and stuffed animals. I could almost hear Dorian’s little laugh echoing in the room, feeling his tiny hands grabbing at my fingers.

“I think he’ll love it here” Charles said, his voice low and warm. He came up behind me, his hands gently resting on my shoulders. I leaned back against him, letting out a soft sigh.

“I think so too” I whisper softly.

We stood there in silence for a moment, just the two of us in that quiet room, imagining the life we were about to build. It had been a long journey, Athena’s passing had left a hole in my heart that still ached. But standing here, with Charles beside me and Dorian growing inside me, I knew that I finally found our place.

“This is it, isn’t it?” I said, turning around to face Charles. My voice trembled just a little, overwhelmed by the certainty that this house was the one.

“I knew you would like it” Charles chuckled, kissing my forehead and wrapping his arms tightly around me.

“You always left the best for the end” I laughed softly.

“Ready to make this official?” he asked with a smile, his eyes twinkling in that playful way he had.

“Let's do it” I smiled, looking around the room with a bigger smile.

We made our way back downstairs, where the real estate agent was waiting for us in the living room. She stood up when she saw us, her smile polite but professional.

“So, what do you think?” she asked, her clipboard in hand. “Do you see yourselves living here?”

I exchanged a glance with Charles, and we both smiled.

“It’s perfect” I said softly. “We love it.”

“I’m glad to hear that. We’ve had a lot of interest in this property, but I had a feeling it would be a good match for you two”she smiled, clearly pleased. 

“What's the next step?” Charles asked, wrapping his arm around my waist.

“Well, we have to make an offer to the seller, then some paperwork. But hopefully I think you can have the keys of the house next week” she said, going through the paper of her clipboard and guiding us towards the table of the living room.

“There's no need of making an offer” Charles smiled. “We take it. We can pay for it”

“Are you sure?” I whisper looking at Charles.

“I am” he smiled, kissing my temple. “I saved money all my life for this, and this season I'll get paid a higher amount of money. And you just sold your apartment in Florence. We can do this, Dafne”

I took a deep breath and looked around, already picturing our future here. Dorian growing up here, making his first steps, celebrating his birthdays with his friends, having dinners with our friends… 

“We can” I smiled looking at him. 

“Alright then” the agent said, smiling again as she handed us the contract. “Let’s get the formalities out of the way. I’ll need your signatures here... and here.”

I watched as Charles signed first, his name flowing across the page in that elegant scrawl of his. Then it was my turn. I held the pen for a moment, my hand trembling slightly as I looked down at the contract.

This was it. This was the moment we officially chose our home.

With a deep breath, I signed my name next to his.

“Congratulations” the agent said brightly, standing up and shaking both our hands. “I’ll send the contract to the seller immediately, and we should have everything finalized within the next week. I’ll be in touch about the next steps, but for now, this house is yours. I'm going to close the sale of the house, so it means that now you can have the keys to move in as soon as possible”

I felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over me. It was real now. We had a home.

As the agent gathered her things and gave us the keys of the house, Charles and I stood by the door, watching her go. When the door finally closed behind her, Charles turned to me, his eyes filled with a quiet joy.

“Well…” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips while he took a step closer to me and placed his hands on my hips. “We just bought a house.”

“We did” I chuckled, placing my hands on his shoulder.

He smiled and leaned closer to me, pressing his lips on mine with a wide smile. I kissed him back, breathing in deeply and giggling against his mouth.

“I can't wait to start this new chapter here, with you” he whispered. “This is all I ever wanted. A future with you”

“This feels so right” I whisper, cupping his cheek with my hand. “This house, us, our baby… This is so right”

“This is going to be the place where we build our memories. Where we raise our son” Charles said, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, his hand resting protectively on my belly.

“And maybe another one after that” I added with a grin, watching as his eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh? Already planning the next one?” he said, laughing softly. “We haven’t even finished unpacking for the first one!”

“It’s just… I feel like we’ve found our place. Everything else will fall into place now” I chuckled softly, looking into his eyes. 

We stood there for a while, just the two of us, holding each other in the quiet of what would soon be our home. The house felt alive, filled with the promise of our future, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a deep, peaceful certainty settle over me.

This was where we were meant to be.

dafnemorelli added a new story

charles_leclerc added a new story

dafnemorelli added a new story

The salty breeze from the ocean hit my face as I stood barefoot in the soft, warm sand. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, calming my mind in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. 

I looked out at the ocean in front of me, the horizon blending with the sky. For the first time in what felt like months, I felt completely relaxed. I rested my hand on my belly, feeling a gentle kick from inside.

“You okay?” Charles’ voice came from behind me, soft and full of love.

I turned around and saw him walking toward me, barefoot, his shirt half unbuttoned and flapping in the wind. He looked so carefree, his hair tousled from the wind, and his smile brighter than the sun above us. I nodded, smiling as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. He placed his hands under my belly and lifted it slowly, making me sigh in relief the moment I stopped feeling the weight of the baby.

“Now I’m more than okay,” I whispered, leaning back against him. “Thank you”

We were at a quiet beach in the north of Italy, just a few hours away from Milano. It wasn’t far from home, but it felt like we had escaped the rest of the world. 

Charles has a week off before he starts a triple header, and with Dorian’s arrival just around the corner, we both wanted to savor these last moments of just us. 

This trip was exactly what we needed, no more doctors’ appointments, no more house hunting, no planning. Just the two of us, the ocean, and time to be together.

“You’ve been so amazing, Daf. I can’t imagine what it’s been like carrying him for the last eight months, but you’ve handled everything with so much grace” he smiled, kissing my cheek softly while he let go of my belly slowly again.

“I wasn't alone, Charlie” I smiled, resting my head on his shoulder. “You've been with me all the time. We did this together”

“Yeah” he smiled. “So many things have happened, huh? Starting our relationship, the drama with Melanie…”

“We deserved this trip so much” I giggled, turning around and hugging him, with my belly between us. “I love you, never forget that. Even when I'm screaming at you during the labor”

“I love you too, silly” he chuckled, lowering his lips to mine in a slow, tender kiss.

Everything about Charles in moments like these was gentle. His touch, his kisses, the way he held me like I was the most precious thing in the world. Every day I discover a new side of him, making me fall harder and harder in love. Now, with the awaiting of Dorian, his parental side started to get more present, and it only made me happier.

“Come on, let’s sit down. You shouldn’t be standing too long” he said, kissing my forehead.

I laughed softly, but I let him lead me to the blanket he had set up earlier. I carefully lowered myself onto it with his help, feeling the pressure of my growing belly as I adjusted into a comfortable position. Charles immediately joined me, sitting behind me so I could lean against him.

We sat like that for a while, my back against his chest, watching the waves and feeling the warmth of the sun on our skin. He had his arms wrapped around me, his hands gently rubbing circles on my belly, and every now and then, we felt Dorian kicking.

“Do you think he’ll like the beach?” I asked, smiling as I felt another kick.

 “I think he’ll love it. Just like his mom” Charles chuckled softly, his breath warm against my ear.

“He seems to be enjoying it now. He’s been kicking a lot more since we got here” I giggled.

“Maybe he’s trying to say he’s happy we’re finally relaxing,” Charles teased, resting his chin on my shoulder again. “We’ve been running around so much, I almost forgot what it’s like to just sit and do nothing.”

“Me too” I admitted, leaning my head back against him. “I’m glad we took this time for ourselves. I feel like we’ve been so focused on getting everything ready for Dorian that we forgot to just enjoy being with each other. We had two hard months, huh? Searching for a house, buying one, getting it ready… And the start of your season. We really needed this”

“That’s why I wanted to bring you here. Just the two of us” he smiled, kissing my cheek. “Consider this another date. We didn't have many of them”

“Every day with you feels like a date” I chuckled, blushing softly.

“Are you blushing?” he teased me, pocking my cheek.

“Idiot” I laughed, slapping his hand softly away from my cheek.

The rest of our trip felt like a blissful, slow dream. Every day was filled with the warmth of the sun, the scent of the sea, and moments that felt intimate and precious, moments that belonged only to us.

In the evenings, we would take long, slow walks along the village, my hand always intertwined with his. I found myself leaning on him more as the weight of my belly started to tire me out quickly, but Charles never complained. He’d just slow his pace to match mine, occasionally stopping to steal a kiss or two, always making me laugh with some silly remark about how I was walking like a penguin.

One afternoon, we found a small boutique that sold handmade baby clothes. I couldn't resist stepping inside, my heart melting at the sight of tiny socks, onesies, and soft blankets. Charles smiled at me, his eyes shining with pure love.

In moments like these, feeling the kicks of our baby and holding baby clothes, I realized that this was so real, that we would have our baby in our arms in less than a month.

“I can't wait to see Dorian with those clothes” Charles said, holding the onesie in front of him.

“Me neither… I can't wait to have him with us” I smiled, rubbing my belly.

dafnemorelli

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 219.489 others

dafnemorelli Last trip before baby Dorian arrives❤️

view all comments

violetsinclair Oh God, can't wait to have him here!

charles_leclerc my love😍

fewawifan Omg wait!!! How far is she already????

dafnemorelli Eight months!! Baby Dorian will be here soon!

fewawifan Omg you answered🥹❤

charles_leclerc

liked by dafnemorelli, arthur_leclerc and 528.428 others

charles_leclerc loml ❤️

dafnemorelli 🥰❤️

arthur_leclerc Can't wait to meet Dorian🥹😍

scuderiaferrari Happy for you two ❤️f1 We need to see baby Leclerc in the paddock!

taglist

@elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots @caterinemirandax_ @mid5nights @harrysdimple05 @nofingjustaninchident @mendes-bae

[mirrorballpages]

"How long was I gone? It felt like hours…" she asked softly.

"Eight minutes and forty-two seconds," Nuala said crisply, her precision as sharp as ever.

Azriel sighed, helping Elain to her feet. "Let’s get you to bed. You need to rest."

"No, no, I’m fine. I was in the middle of pruning—" Elain started to protest, but Azriel cut her off gently.

"You can prune the roses tomorrow," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Right now, you need sleep. And food." He turned to the twins. "Nuala, grab the food. Cerridwen, put away her gardening tools and bring up a pitcher of water."

Elain huffed softly but didn’t argue further, leaning on Azriel’s arm as he guided her out of the garden. She insisted she was fine, but her steps were uneven, her exhaustion obvious. Azriel was just grateful he didn’t have any pressing tasks that day—and that Rhys and Feyre wouldn’t be back for a few hours. As they reached the staircase, Elain hesitated briefly, her grip tightening on his arm. "Fine," she muttered reluctantly, "but only a quick nap. I have plenty to do today."

Azriel didn’t bother responding, knowing she would pass out the moment her head hit the pillow. He held her steady as they ascended the stairs, Nuala following close behind. When they reached her door, Azriel paused, unsure if he should go inside. Her room—it felt too intimate, too personal. He’d never brought anyone into his own room at the House of Wind, and he wondered if she would feel the same way about her space.

But Elain simply pushed the door open and pulled him in without hesitation. Azriel’s breath caught.

The room was her. Every inch of it a reflection of the warmth and light she carried within her.

Large windows overlooked the garden, sunlight filtering in and casting soft glows across the floral bedding on her wide, inviting bed. The walls were lined with shelves brimming with books and trailing ivy, as though she’d brought the garden indoors. A wooden desk held a neatly arranged chessboard and a stack of papers, and fresh flowers adorned every available surface. The faint scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the air, mingling with the freshness of the blooms.

His gaze caught on the poetry book he had given her, sitting prominently on her nightstand. The sight of it, clearly cherished, sent a strange, warm ache through his chest. Before he could dwell on it too long, Nuala took Elain’s arm. "Let’s get you out of this dress and into something more comfortable."

"No, no, I’m fine. I’ll just lie down," Elain mumbled, already crawling onto the bed, her apron still tied around her waist.

Azriel stepped forward, carefully untangling the ties of her apron. "Let me get this for you," he murmured, leaning over her.

"Oh, yes, thank you," she said softly, her voice heavy with sleep.

As he leaned closer, untying the knots at her waist, her breath hitched. He froze for half a second, the proximity suddenly electric, his heart pounding in his chest. He swore her gaze flicked up to his. But then Nuala coughed, and the moment shattered. Azriel stepped back, holding the soil-stained apron in his hands. "I’ll let you rest," he said, his voice calm despite the storm brewing inside him. He nodded to Nuala as he turned to leave. "I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. Rhys and I have a meeting later, but I’ll stay here until then."

"Thank you, Azriel," Elain said softly, already nestled under the covers. Her long hair spilled across the pillows, and her eyes fluttered closed.

Azriel lingered for a moment longer than he should have, his shadows still swirling around her protectively. And then, with one last glance, he left, following Nuala out the door.

When they reached the kitchen, Cerridwen was waiting for them, her expression tight with concern.

"So..." Cerridwen began, her voice steady but laced with unease.

"I’ll see if Clotho has found any new books, especially around Earthvein," Azriel interrupted, his tone sharp, already forming a plan. "Maybe it can help us figure out what happened."

Cerridwen nodded but extended her hand, the faint scars along her wrist and thumb catching the light. The sight made Azriel’s jaw tighten.

"It was terrifying, Az. One minute she was talking to Nuala, the next, she was out—her eyes were white. And the thorns... as half-wraiths, we’re not supposed to scar," Cerridwen said, her voice faltering as she traced the pale lines on her skin. "It wasn’t just a thorn—there was magic inside."

"She’s much more powerful than anyone gives her credit for," Nuala added quietly, her agreement clear in the firm nod of her head.

Azriel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know. But until she’s ready to talk to Rhys and Feyre about it, all we can do is be there for her." His voice dropped, edged with frustration—not at them, but at himself, for not having answers. For not being able to help Elain as she stumbled through a world she wasn’t ready for. "Let me know if it ever happens again, even if I’m away. Write down when it happens, how long it lasts, anything you can. I want to see if there’s a pattern."

Because there had to be a pattern. There always was. Even with magic, there were connections—threads he could trace, piece together, understand.

Nuala hesitated, then glanced at Cerridwen. "You know, the reason her magic didn’t hurt you is probably because—"

Azriel held up a hand, cutting her off. "That’s not a conversation I’m ready to have. And neither is she." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

But he knew. He knew exactly what Nuala and Cerridwen thought—and he hated how much it aligned with his own suspicions. Ever since he’d first laid eyes on Elain, his shadows had been drawn to her, her light. Her warmth. It was a thought he buried deep, an answer he wasn’t ready to face. Not yet.

Cerridwen rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Fine. But you know you’re going to have to talk to her about it eventually. And The High Lord and High Lady. And definitely Nesta." She smirked knowingly. "Because we both know she’ll have your head on a platter if you don’t tell her everything. I’m surprised she hasn’t killed Lucien for just existing yet."

Azriel huffed, his wings twitching slightly at the mention of Lucien. "He’s quite lucky he decided to run off with his ‘Band of Exiles,’ as I hear he’s calling it." The words dripped with sarcasm, his disdain clear.

Ridiculous name, he thought. Yes, Lucien was useful—his work with Jurian and Vassa provided crucial information—but Azriel couldn’t stomach the thought of him being Elain’s mate. Because if Elain were his... he would never have left her side.

Azriel shook the thought away, focusing on the present. "Check in on her in a few hours, okay? If Rhys and Feyre come home early and she’s still asleep, we’ll just say she has a headache. Make sure she eats when she wakes up. I’ll be in the front room working." He turned on his heel, shadows pooling at his feet as his mind raced. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot. Whatever was happening to Elain, whatever her magic was trying to tell them, he would figure it out. He had to.

Read The Rest on AO3

[itsabouttimex2]

A Brand New Journey:

Part Four

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six)

Your mentor’s dojo is pretty far out, but you’ve gotten used to the trek. This part of Megapolis is… gloomy, to say the least. It seems like a dark cloud falls over every building here, leaving the atmosphere sluggish and tense.

Your mentor’s dwellings especially fall into the pitch hands of darkness, tucked uncozily between crowded buildings.

With no greenery and little color, this part of the city has always left you with a slight sense of unease. Once, you had attempted to amend this in some small way, potting up freesia and yellow roses to try and add a splash of brightness around the house.

Only a few days after the flowers had bloomed, someone had come by in the night and sliced them to pieces, leaving the shredded stems and petals scattered across the concrete.

Taking pity on your efforts, your mentor had dragged those pots inside and planted something more to his liking- tansies and black dahlias.

“At least they left the pots alone,” you had said, sighing at the pointless destruction of something utterly harmless. You’d been misting the new flowers, ensuring they’d grow healthy and vibrant even when deprived of direct sunlight and fresh air.

“How do you stand living in this part of town when people pull things like this?”

“Heh. No one’s ever bothered me before, kiddo. Could just be that you look like an easy target for some of the freaks in this part of town.”

“Actually… you know what? I think we’ve gotta get something that leave you looking a little fiercer. Cause, uh… no offense, kiddo… but you look like a baby.”

“I do not,” you had quickly insisted, putting the spray bottle down to fold your arms and frown at him.

“You keep telling yourself that, kiddo. And hey, maybe one day it’ll be true, but, as it stands… you’re adorable and no one is scared of you.”

His hand comes to rest over your hair, ruffling the strands out of place.

“Look, we’ll have to fix you up something that’s more intimidating than endearing. Next time you come over, alright?”

“…next time sounds good.”

———————————————————————-

Even though the weather is still decently warm, coming all this way out leaves you fighting chills as you traverse the shadowed streets. Something about this place feels wrong.

Maybe that was; in part, what had driven you to wearing concealer. Not only to prevent the concern of kind souls like MK and Mister Pigsy, but to prevent yourself from looking weak in front of dangerous enemies or opportunistic freaks that lurked in dirty alleyways.

Picking up the pace just enough that you don’t seem to be running (another sign of weakness), you hurry to the house- you’ve always referred to it as a ‘dojo’, but the man training you has always liked calling it a ‘lair’. Given the location, it doesn’t seem like too much of a misnomer.

He’s always had a knack for the dramatic, acting at times almost like a theater major.

Another chill, like you’re being watched or followed.

Now, you start to run. Maybe it’s childish, maybe it’s outright stupid. But you’re actually scared.

Moving just fast enough that you won’t jostle the mooncake boxes, you throw one hand upon his door, hoping that he’s home.

From a nearby alleyway, two faces of pitch black, golden eyes with leering expressions. Arms and hands and ears painted red.

Oh, god.

With a shared laugh, they move forward. Their eyes do not leave yours.

Oh, god.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You smash your fist against the sturdy barrier, uncaring if your frantic banging draws more attention. You need to be inside and away from this awful, awful neighborhood and whatever the hell is approaching.

“C’mon, c’mon! Open the door! Please!”

At the sound of even a slight pleading in your tone, the wood in front of you flies open, a powerful black-furred arm reaching to snag you.

Macaque drags you inside without hesitation, slamming and bolting the door shut.

“Kiddo, what the hell?”

You throw yourself into his arms, breaking into tears. The Mystic Monkey takes a moment to regard you, just barely able to bite back a knowing smile.

“See something scary, huh?”

He breaks up your sobs and hiccups with a few firm back thumps, using his free hand to take the pastry bags from your arms and set them aside. The simian loops both of his arms around you, hugging you tight to his chest.

“Easy, easy. C’mon, kiddo, deep breaths.”

But you can’t seem to stop the frightened crying, no matter what you do or what he says. Instead, you cling to Macaque and quake, staining his ru with tears of fear.

“I can’t, I can’t! I’m s-sorry, but I can’t! Macaque, I can’t! My- I- I can’t! In the… in the alleyway, there’s, there was- augh!”

All your frantic cries are cut with a particularly sturdy thump to your back, leaving you to sharply gasp for the breath that’s been knocked out.

At least you’ve stopped crying.

“Better, kiddo?” As he asks, your mentor sits you on the couch and wraps his tattered red scarf around your shoulders. In a better mindset, you might’ve seen it and thought of the scrap he gave you a few months back. You might’ve thought of your book.

But right now, there’s more important things to think about. Like what you want to do next.

[spinchip]

“I’m sorry about your hair.” Nya says from the comfort of the bathroom doorway. Not inside, close to the halo of hacked brown locks, but not entirely outside- close enough to reassure but with a quick escape would be easy, if this conversation was unwelcome.

Dot makes a soft humming noise as she trims the fringe framing her face, her eyes exhausted but resolved as she makes sure the sides are perfectly even, “hair grows back.”

“Still, though.” Nya fidgets with the doorknob just to do something with her hands, “You loved your hair. Was there really no saving it?”

“The matting was too severe.” Dot says lightly, “Besides, even if there was a way to save it… well, it’s a bit too late now.”  she sweeps chunks of her once long hair into the garbage bin by the toilet. The pixie cut is strange and foreign on her, to Nyas eyes. She’d only ever know Dot with hair long enough to brush her lower back.

Dot grabs her canes and makes her way towards the door. There’s still hair on the floor, but Nya wisely doesn’t comment on it. In all the years she’d now known Dakota, she was never one to leave a mess. She wasn’t okay, and Nya doubted that handing her a broom would do anything to help. She backs up so Dot can join her in the hallway, and she follows her as she heads to the kitchen.

“I’ve never seen your hair this short.” She says because she’s really not sure what to say, “Even in the pictures with you and Leo it was to your shoulders.” there’s a pause, “It looks nice!” She adds awkwardly, suddenly acutely aware she may not be making things better.

Though Dot doesn’t seem to mind. She grabs a water bottle and tucks it under her armpit as she leads Nya back out of the kitchen, “It was short most of my childhood.” She says conversationally, “Chemo started young so all my hair fell out, then after remission right as it started getting long I had a recurrence and had to go for another round. I kept it short out of habit for a while after that- not this short, maybe similar to how I had it cut in those old photos.”

Nya had long since stopped comparing Dot to Zane, but sometimes she’s still struck with just how different the two masters of ice were. When it came to difficult topics, you’d need a can opener to get Zane to cough up any details. Dot had no qualms discussing the traumas of her life, with only the great devourer attack being a sensitive subject- but even then, if you asked she was willing to discuss.

So why Nya thinks to herself am I so scared to ask about the Never Realm?

They go out to the garden along the side of the monastery, fresh flowers blooming and a sweet hanging screen hanging in the air. Dot settles down on the bench there, setting her crutches to the side and cracking her water bottle to take a sip. This had always been her favorite spot in the monastery, and doubly-so after the Never Realm. She sits out here in the sun for hours, soaking up the warmth and lost in thought. Nya sits down next to her, feeling only a little like she’s intruding.

“Are you okay?” she asks quickly, ripping off the bandaid.

Dot had her head back, basking in the sunlight when Nya asked. Her lips curl into a sad smile as she cracks her eye open to look at nya in her peripheral, “Of course not.”

And maybe this hesitation Nya was struggling through was rooted in that tiny little smile. That was the most emotion she’s shown in the days since she came back- a small, starved thing that struggled past the apathy settled like weights along her shoulders. That just wasn’t natural. Dot cried over spilt milk- she cooed at cute animals and pouted when she lost board games and laughed and smile so loud and so bright you knew she was happy two rooms away.everything Nya knows about her indicates the fall out should be an atomic bomb going off, but instead the monastery is quiet and still and Dot doesn’t do anything but sit out here in the sun.

“I’m sorry.” She offers again.

Dot sighs and Nyas never heard her sigh like that, either. A put-upon, tired thing. Exhausted, “I know you mean well, but i don’t really like to hear apologies when I’m having a rough day.”

Nya blinks. That was certainly news to her, “Oh, uh, I’ll try to stop then. Why haven't you said anything before?”

she closes her eyes again, “I heard it all the time as a kid. Started to really grate on my nerves, but I usually don’t say anything because I know it's largely a sign of sympathy. It feels rude to shoot someone's sympathy down like that… the truth is I just don’t like it.”

There’s a lull in the conversation. Nya doesn’t know where to go from here, so they just enjoy the sunlight together.

A light breeze ruffles Nyas hair right before Dot speaks again, “I know everyone is worried about me.” she states plainly.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be okay.” Dot reassures her gently.

Nya looks away, “After seeing you up on that throne-” Dot flinches, but Nya barrels on, “I just don’t know how anyone could bounce back from that alone. We’re here for you, all of us are.”

There’s another long silence.

Nya continues, “...if there’s one thing I've always thought I knew about you, it's that you feel your emotions very deeply and very openly. I haven’t seen you cry once since you got back.”

The breeze liberates a few flowers from the dogwood above their heads and the white flowers trickle to the ground like falling snow.

Dakota swallows thickly and sits up more, she hesitates for a moment before speaking, “...I have had a lot of bad experiences throughout my life, Nya. I don’t think I’ve gone ten years without a new tragedy.” She starts, looking down at her hands where she is twisting her fingers together as she strings together her words, “granted, this is much different than just another hospital stay… but after each of those events I just needed time. A lot happened here, most of it stuff that I feel a great deal of shame, pain, and guilt over. I’m working though my thoughts and emotions mostly internally right now, because I don’t think I could handle the fallout if I fully unbottled these feelings just yet.” She explains.

“I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to go through this alone.”

“I’m not. I actually do have someone I’ve been discussing things with-” Her eye slickers to air next to her, but Nya’s looking at the flowers drifting in the wind and doesn’t quite catch that, “and I've slowly been letting the pressure off. Think of it like cracking a coke a little and waiting for the carbonation to go down? That way it doesn’t go exploding out of the bottle.”

Nya chuckles a little at that, “I like that analogy.” The grin slides off her face as she thinks everything over and Dot notices.

“Listen, Nya… when bad things happen, sometimes the only thing you can do is accept that this is the way it is. I can’t change the past, I can’t stop what has already finished, but I can choose where to go from here.” Dot smiles weakly again.

Several long moments pass as Nya really absorbs what Dot says before she responds. With a small returned smile, Nya leans over and bumps Dots elbow with hers, “Well, please remember you don’t have to figure it out on your own. you’ve got plenty of people who are here to help, okay? We love you.”

“I love you guys too.” Dot smiles again, and it’s genuine this time.