#like its not honey bread time yet but....god

[winxanity-ii]

⌜Catch Me If You Can | Chapter 20 Chapter 20 | EPILOGUE: the thief and the messenger⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

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Weeks later, you found yourself perched on the slanted roof of your favorite hideout—the very one spot in town where you felt truly invisible. It was also the same place where you had once laid out your bold plan to rob a god.

Now, you sat cross-legged, a freshly swiped apple in hand, watching the sun dip lower in the sky.

The fading light bathed the horizon in hues of gold and crimson, streaks of orange blending into soft purples that hinted at the coming night. Above, the first stars began to twinkle, tiny pinpricks of silver against the deepening blue.

You bit into the apple, the crunch loud in the quiet. The faint scent of smoke and rebuilding filled the air, mingling with the sweet tang of the fruit.

Below, the town bustled faintly—quieter than it once had been, but alive in a way it hadn't been for a long time.

You watched as lanterns began to flicker to life, dotting the streets like fireflies. The people were rebuilding, healing.

It wasn't perfect, but it was better.

Life had returned to normal—or at least as normal as it could be for you. A small smile played at your lips as you thought back to everything that had happened.

You were richer from the experience—not just in the extra gold that mysteriously appeared in your satchel after you parted ways with Hermes, though that certainly helped. It even came with a note written in an elegant, teasing hand: For your trouble. Don't spend it all in one place, little thief.

The tyrant who had taxed your town into despair was gone now, driven out by the unexpected surge of wealth that allowed the people to reclaim what was theirs.

The Sunstone had done its part, not as a stolen artifact, but as the spark that inspired change.

And though you doubted Apollo would ever forgive the theft, he hadn't come back to smite you yet. Small victories.

You glanced up at the stars, their light growing brighter as the sun's warmth faded.

Your fingers brushed against the faint, golden mark on your wrist—the lingering proof of Apollo's judgment. It no longer burned, but it tingled faintly sometimes, a reminder of the divine forces you had crossed. A reminder that you had survived.

Taking another bite of the apple, you let your thoughts wander back to Hermes. You hadn't seen him since that night, but his parting words still echoed in your mind, as did the maddening, fleeting warmth of his kiss. "But if you do... well, you know where to find me."

You shook your head, letting out a soft huff of laughter. Typical Hermes. Always leaving you guessing, never giving you the full story. But even so, you knew you'd see him again. Trouble had a way of finding you, and he was never too far behind it.

For now, though, you allowed yourself to savor the moment—the peace of your town rebuilding, the quiet triumph of surviving a brush with the gods, and the soft glow of the stars above.

Whatever came next, you'd be ready.

For now, your thoughts wandered to the mundane, grounding you in the moment. What should I eat later? you mused, chewing the last bite of your apple. Maybe head to the bar for some stew... or catch the baker's stall before it closes. That honey bread is—

"Awfully quiet, little thief. Miss me already?"

The voice cut through your thoughts like a knife, smooth and teasing, laced with unmistakable amusement. Your heart leapt into your throat, the familiar timbre as jarring as it was strangely comforting.

Slowly, you turned, and there he was—Hermes.

He lounged casually on the edge of the rooftop like he belonged there, his wings faintly visible in the soft light of the evening, shimmering faint gold at the edges. His grin was as maddeningly smug as you remembered, his golden eyes glinting with a mixture of mischief and curiosity; his posture relaxed like he didn't have a care in the world.

Your chest tightened for a moment—a small, fleeting reaction that you quickly shoved down, replacing it with a blank, unbothered expression. "Look what the wind dragged in," you deadpanned, crossing your arms as you leaned back against the roof. "What do you want, Hermes? Last I checked, I haven't stolen from any gods recently."

His grin widened, the kind of grin that made you want to throw something at him. "Oh, I don't doubt that. Not yet, anyway." He leaned closer, balancing effortlessly on the slanted roof as his wings folded neatly behind him. "But who's to say you won't? I thought I'd check in, you know, keep you out of trouble."

"Keep me out of trouble?" You snorted, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't that your specialty, oh mighty god of mischief?"

"Guilty as charged." He placed a hand over his chest as if accepting the title with pride. "But let's not forget—you're my favorite little troublemaker now. Makes me feel responsible." His smirk softened, just a fraction, and for a moment, his gaze lingered on you. "Can't have you running wild without supervision."

You rolled your eyes, but there was no stopping the small twitch at the corner of your lips. "I'm doing just fine, thanks. And for the record, I'm not planning on any heists anytime soon."

"Good," Hermes said, his tone lighter but with a faint undercurrent of something deeper—something you couldn't quite place. "That's a start." Then, as if unable to resist, he added, "Though I have to say, the world's a little duller without you stirring the pot."

Your heart raced again, but you masked it with a huff, tossing the apple core off the roof and watching it disappear into the shadows below. "Well, sorry to disappoint. I'm retired from participating in big jobs."

"Retired?" Hermes laughed, a sound so rich and warm that it almost disarmed you. "Well, that won't do at all."

You narrowed your eyes, suspicious. "What won't do?"

Hermes crossed his arms, leaning lazily against his staff. "You. Sitting here. Pretending you're done with all the fun stuff. That's not the little thief I know." His wings shimmered faintly before disappearing once more, leaving only the faintest ripple in the air behind him. "As it happens, I've got something for you. Bigger, shinier, and far more dangerous than the Sunstone. Interested?"

You raised a brow, lips curving into a skeptical smirk. "And what if I don't want to? As you can see, I've got a reputation of simple thievery to maintain here." You gestured down at the bustling town below, the marketplace still lively with traders and customers.

Hermes' smirk widened, and before you could blink, he floated forward, his sandals skimming the edge of the roof. He plopped down in front of you, so close that you had to crane your neck to look up at him. His golden eyes gleamed as he leaned just a little too close for comfort—or maybe too close for your own good.

You hated the way your heart stuttered at something so simple, so deliberate.

"Oh, on the contrary, little thief," he purred, his voice low and smooth, sending a small shiver down your spine. "I apologize if I made it sound like you have a choice. I'm merely here to cash in a deal I'm owed... or did you forget?"

You maintained your snarky look, raising an eyebrow as if unfazed, but inside, you were screaming. Forget? How could you forget? You'd practically replayed the deal on loop every day after you parted ways, trying not to admit—even to yourself—that the silence left behind had felt... lonely.

Finally, you pursed your lips, determined to hide the smile threatening to creep onto your face. "Why are you so insistent on that deal? I know I'm not the only human you've made a deal with. What's in it for you?"

Hermes tilted his head, his grin lazy and entirely too self-assured. "Entertainment, of course," he said with a wink, his tone dripping with charm. "And maybe your charming company."

You rolled your eyes, but the flutter in your chest refused to be ignored. "Charming, huh? Sounds like you're buttering me up for something."

"Always," Hermes said with a playful shrug, standing to his full height and stretching his arms overhead, his grin never faltering. "But come on, little thief. You can't tell me you've been satisfied with the small-time cons down there. Where's the thrill? The excitement? The chaos?"

You opened your mouth to argue, but no words came out. As much as you hated to admit it, he wasn't entirely wrong. Life had returned to normal—or as normal as it could be—but part of you missed the wildness of the journey, the danger, the feeling of being alive.

Hermes must have caught the flicker of hesitation in your eyes because his grin widened, triumphant. "See? You're already considering it."

"I didn't say anything," you shot back quickly, crossing your arms. "You're imagining things."

"Am I?" Hermes' voice dropped slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. "Tell me this, my little thief—when was the last time you felt like you were really living?"

You huffed, turning sharply on your heel. You hated how easily he could read you, but you also couldn't deny the truth in his words. "I don't know," you drawled, keeping your back to him for effect, pretending to mull it over. "Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. Hard to say."

Behind you, Hermes chuckled, the sound low and teasing. You heard the faint rustle of his sandals against the roof as he moved closer. Too close. The air shifted, and you could feel his presence just behind you—warm, magnetic.

Slowly, you turned, only to find his face mere inches from yours.

His golden eyes lidded slightly, their usual mischief softened into something more dangerous. His lips curled into that infuriating smirk, and the faint breeze ruffled his hair, catching glints of gold in the strands.

He tilted his head, his gaze flickering to your lips for a fraction of a second before locking back onto your eyes.

"Come on~," he murmured, his voice a low, teasing hum that sent shivers down your spine. "Admit it. You missed me."

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you refused to let him win. This time, you leaned forward, closing the gap. Hermes' smirk faltered, his eyes widening slightly as you pressed a teasing kiss to his lips—light, brief, but just enough to leave him stunned.

When you pulled back, it was with a smirk of your own. "Maybe a little."

For the first time, Hermes seemed caught off guard. His eyes blinked rapidly, like he was trying to process what just happened. Then he threw his head back and laughed, the sound bright and full of life, echoing into the night.

"You're going to be the death of me, little thief," he said, his voice still carrying that unmistakable amusement.

You tilted your head, feigning a thoughtful expression as your lips curved into a playful grin. "Well, if you die, who's going to provide me with all that 'entertainment' you promised, huh? Don't go making empty threats, Hermes."

His laughter faltered, the smirk on his lips twisting into something sharper. Before you could blink, his hand shot out, fingers curling around your wrist as he pulled you closer. The sudden movement sent your heart racing, and the teasing retort you'd been crafting evaporated as he tugged you flush against him.

"Empty threats, huh?" he murmured, his voice low and molten, golden eyes locking onto yours with a heat that made your breath hitch. His free hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

Then, without warning, he leaned in and crashed his lips onto yours.

The kiss was anything but gentle. It was consuming—fierce and unrelenting, his mouth moving against yours like he'd been waiting for this moment far longer than you could've guessed.

His lips were soft, yet the pressure was firm, claiming, stealing your breath as his hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer.

His tongue flicked against your lips, coaxing them apart, and before you knew it, he was deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a skill that left you lightheaded.

Your hands instinctively shot up—one gripping the front of his tunic, the other bracing against his chest. The faint hum of his laughter rumbled against your lips as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

When he finally pulled back, you were gasping for air, your head spinning. "W-Wow," you breathed out, your voice unsteady. One hand pressed lightly against his chest as if to put some distance between you, though you couldn't bring yourself to push him away completely. Your fingers brushed against the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric, and it was enough to send another jolt through your already frayed nerves.

Hermes' grin returned, cocky and entirely too pleased with himself, though there was a softness in his golden eyes that hadn't been there before. "Sure you're not the one who's going to be the death of me?" you teased, managing a weak smile despite your flushed cheeks and racing heart.

He snorted, the hand on the back of your neck sliding up to cup your cheek. "Nah, I've got it all figured out," he said, his voice warm and rich with amusement. "If you do die, I'll just bring you back to life. I've got a few connections in the Underworld, you know. I can even make a cozy little alcove just for us if you want—eternity's a lot less dull with you around."

You leaned back slightly, still catching your breath as the warmth of his touch lingered on your skin. "Alright, enough flirting," you said, though the teasing edge in your voice didn't quite mask the fluttering in your chest. "What's this little 'job' of yours anyway? If I'm risking my life again, I'd at least like to know what I'm getting into."

Hermes' grin widened, full of mischief as he tilted his head, watching you like you were the most entertaining thing in existence. "Ah, now there's the spirit I love to see. And here I was worried you'd grown boring."

You arched a brow, waiting, as he clapped his hands together and began patting his pockets. "Let me just grab the details..." His voice trailed off as his golden eyes flicked downward, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. "Huh. I could've sworn it was—"

When he looked up, his words faltered, his gaze narrowing as he spotted the slip of parchment pinched between your fingers. You held it up with a sly smile, shrugging innocently. "Sorry. Old habits die hard," you said coyly. "You really should keep a better eye on your stuff."

For a moment, Hermes just stared, and then that infuriating grin spread across his face. "Oh, you little—" He didn't finish. Instead, he reached up, pulling his cap off and plopping it unceremoniously onto your head. It tilted slightly, too big for your head, but it only made his smirk grow wider as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you flush against him.

"You know," he murmured, his voice low and warm, "I think you're going to be my favorite assistant. Try not to let it go to your head."

Before you could respond—or swipe the cap right back off—he unfurled his wings in one smooth motion, the sudden rush of air making your hair whip wildly. His grip on you tightened as he launched into the sky, the ground vanishing beneath your feet.

You let out a surprised yelp, clutching onto his shoulders instinctively, and Hermes' laughter echoed in your ears.

"Hold on tight, little thief," he called over the wind, the stars stretching out like a glittering blanket above you. "The world's wide open now—ripe for chaos, a little adventure, and who knows? Maybe even a bit more love if you're up for it?"

You couldn't help the grin that spread across your face as you tucked your face into his neck. The night swallowed you both, the endless horizon promising more than you could ever imagine.

With Hermes at your side—or rather, holding you aloft—you were ready for whatever came next.

A/N: AHHHHH, y'all!! it's finally finished! i had a lot of fun with it, and it also taught me that i don't have to go wild and every book i write gotta have 30+ chappies.... i als tried my hand here at a faster-paced romance (which was hard asf because it takes me hella long time to even realize i like someone, let alone wanna kiss them lolol---sighs, life of a demisexual) enough ramling, hope you lovelies enjoyed this! my apollo or telemachus short fic should be dropping soon~ in the mean time, while updating KNE and Godly Things oneshots will be drpping as well ❤️

[nightingale-prompts]

Batboy is back baby!

First | Previous | Next

(Back to the regularly scheduled idiots)

Life was not quite back to normal. Danny's lack of wings meant he didn't hang from the ceiling anymore. He also started eating less, he wasn't as much of a fiend for fruits anymore. The white fur collar he had started shedding until there was only a thin layer left.

Danny slept most of the day only moving to new spots occasionally. He would choose the most inconvenient spots as well. Like the roof.

One such day Danny was sleeping soundly in the midday sun when a portal opened behind him. A hand grabbed Danny by the ankle back onto the Ghost Zone. He only managed a single yelp before he was face to face with Clockwork.

"What part of come back do you not understand?" He scolded holding the boy in the palm of his hand.

Danny rolled over in the icy blue hand and sighed. He didn't bother looking up at "Kronos" in his titan form. He knew that it meant that his mentor was in a very bad mood.

"Now look at you. You have bearly staved off going into stasis. You are not fully formed yet young man and can't survive in the physical realm without an energy source. What have you been feeding on other than your own energy reserves?!" He lectured before another voice cut in.

"Go easy on him my love. Let me." Nocturne soothed taking Danny into his hands.

Danny was thankful for a moment before realizing that Nocturne's head was that of a ram which meant he was also mad.

Its very easy to read the emotions of god-level entities. The more imposing and non-humanoid the worse they feel.

"Daniel...what did I tell you to do late time we spoke?" Nocturne's red eyes narrowed, and his horizontal pupils shrank.

Danny knew this was a trap.

"Speak boy." Nocturne ordered.

"To return-"

"To return to the realms!" Nocturne bleated "And yet you stubbornly remained. Now look, you are practically wilting away! You are still a millennia too young to be this reckless. I should ban you from the physical realm. Putting you in a dream bubble for a century would teach you a lesson."

Danny knew that this was a bluff. Nocturne was a huge softie and never went through with a punishment. Clockwork on the other hand never made false promises.

" No, my Lamb. We shouldn't. Not yet at least." Clockwork sighed "For now we should concern ourselves with helping him recover."

Danny sighed with relief as the Titans let him go for now.

He had to leave a note for Dick that he would be at his homeworld for a few days. Clockwork also left a note to assure Dick that Danny was in good hands and is also being grounded.

Recovery by ghost standards was similar to humans.

Ambient ectoplasm could heal with enough time but it's by no means fast. It would take years for Danny to get back to his old self. When Danny first came back after being torn open the recovery was painfully slow without proper care. If Clockwork hadn't stepped in then Danny would still be in that state.

The first step is food. Despite what you'd think ghosts eat. They all have to eat something to survive, but they all just have their favorite foods.

Nocturne was a desire eater.

Clockwork by nature ate everything

Danny himself is a fear eater.

Fear eaters are the most common among ghosts.

But these are abstract foods.

Physical foods also exist. Ghosts cultivate foods of their own.

Danny's favorites are a bowl of Ice Scream with Ambrosia chunks, neck-tarine lemonade, the devil's eggs, and candied meal worms.

It sure beats eating honeyed dates, bread, and cheese with Clockwork and Nocturne. But a growing ghost has to eat alter food to grow in power.

So Danny can only eat offerings until further notice.

Clockwork also sent Danny to do tasks and training.

"You need to steel your mind. Your perception of yourself is too flimsy. The more you believe yourself to be small or a child the more your body becomes so. The more negative emotions you direct at yourself the worst you will appear." Clockwork droned on and on showing Danny complex diagrams about how to properly use his powers.

The time ghost had been firm about not teaching Danny any new abilities until he got this down.

Danny was not enthusiastic. He bearly made it though the first lecture on this.

"Give him a break. How about letting me show him some examples?" Nocturne said entering the room with a tray of tea. "Come with me. We'll go to the menagerie."

For the next few days, Danny was given a crash course on biology and mental conditioning. He practiced changing his form as quickly as possible and accurately copying. Nocturne was strict but fair. Nocturne was actually one of the best when it came to shifting.

On the last day, Danny hugged his mentors goodbye for now. Clockwork made sure to fasten a talisman around Danny's neck that would keep them in contact and help Danny control his power better so he didn't lose too much energy. Nocturne handed Danny a bag of golden Ambrosia for the road.

And like that, Danny was back home. Recharged and ready.

****

Dick tried not to be worried about Danny. He understood that since he wasn't entirely human he had to recover differently. But you can't blame him for feeling anxious.

Going missing once was problem enough.

When he returned to the apartment the first thing to greet him when he opened the door was something fuzzy flying at his face.

That fuzzy thing was a squeaking sliver bat that had somehow go in the house.

Dick peeled it off his face as the bat gleefully chirped at him.

"How did you get in little guy? Did Damian hide you in here?" Dick said as the Bat climbed up his suit.

Suddenly a heavy weight pressed down on him as the albino bat turned into Danny. Dick toppled to the floor.

"Dad!! Look! I finally did it! I flew!" Danny said leaning over Dick and smiling from ear to ear. His blue eyes flashed green.

Dick was stunned silent as he took in the last few seconds.

Did Danny call him dad?

[liveyun]

sweetest thing | k.th 🎃

title. sweetest thing

pairing. kim taehyung x reader

genre. halloween au , fantasy au, baker au, friends to lovers (?)

wc. 1.9k

warnings. vampire!tae , human!reader, halloween night !! mentions of supernatural beings and co-existence with humans, baking stuff heehee, very light angst if you squint very hard, fluff, tatamic cameo, our taetae 🐻

main masterlist | taglist 🥮

Eat, drink, and be scary.

In your case, there was a small addition — bake. And god damn, it was a hell of a busy night, your small bakery feeling a bit smaller than usual with the amount of people flooding in with costumes bigger than themselves, faces painted with creativity of the night and hands full of treats to hand away.

It was Halloween.

It felt like the one night the world let its boundaries fade, letting all kinds of beings drift seamlessly among the neighborhood — changing the otherwise cold air of the town to a bit warmer feel. Beneath foggy street lights, creatures of every kind — witches with flickering, real candlelight in their eyes, goblins in patched-up scarves, vampires with their scarlet irises, hybrids who usually preferred to stay in their own colonies or even werewolves with their massive bodies — blended seamlessly among the crowd — are mingling with humans.

You watch, enchanted by it all.

Halloween is something you’d only heard gossips of previously — a night where reality softened itself, allowing creatures and humans to celebrate together. It’s mesmerizing, truly, to see ghouls and fairies roam, joining in the strange joy of humans’ games, even if some seem to find the idea of tricks and treats amusingly silly.

Yet, tonight, they all play along, indulging in the world of Halloween, and you feel something childlike stirring in your chest, a thrill just to be a part of it, even if you’re not necessarily trying to trick people with candies or so.

You’re content to be within the smell of sourdough baking up in the oven.

Outside, laughter rises as trick-or-treaters fill the sidewalks, while your bakery hums with activity as people and beings of all kinds come in for a taste of Halloween magic. Inside, you’re shoulder-to-shoulder with Taehyung, who, if not for the slight glimmer in his gaze, a golden rim circling his pupils, would seem almost too human.

The apron wrapped around him is decorated with little ghosts and bats, and under it, he wears simple clothes that only highlight his warm, honey-toned skin with that soft, dark hair curling boyishly around his face.

Honestly, he looks like anyone else on a Halloween evening, blending so easily that his vampiric nature might be overlooked altogether.

Except for you, of course.

However, tonight, even time falls short on you. The counters are a mess of bowls, cookie cutters, and ghost-shaped éclairs. Dark berry syrups bubble in pots, rich and fragrant, mingling with the scents of cinnamon and nutmeg.

And while Taehyung tends to the syrups, you’re focused on decorating the cookies and piping frosting on pumpkin cupcakes, hands moving quickly to keep up with the demand as customers in costumes drift in and out, some pausing to snap photos of the treats or chat about their plans for the night.

And somehow, it feels that you two are not enough tonight.

Taehyung is busy preparing every sauce and filling — poor fellow is trying his best despite his strong dislike towards the particular “pungent” smell of vanilla (his exact words, not yours) and you can tell by the way how often his nostrils flare down or scrunch when the crowd of your bakery gets too overwhelming.

Shit. You’d nearly forgotten about the chocolate melting over the double boiler!

Initially you were a bit surprised — the bread which you just got an order for, usually is a top seller when the weather calls for hot chocolate and itchy sweaters. You’re running to the counter opposite yours to grab the fresh batch of Hoska when you feel his oddly warm, cool touch on your wrist — Taehyung’s voice finding you, calm yet laced with a quiet curiosity. “Try this,” he says, offering a spoon of dark, vicious looking syrup.

You think it’s kind of sweet because he blows over the spoon gently before offering it to you.

His eyes, dark as the night outside, are fixed on you, watching as you taste the syrup.

You lick the spoon thoughtfully.

It’s rich, sweet, with just a hint of something darker underneath — like the tartness of fresh raspberries.

“It’s sweet,” you hum, licking your lips as you hand him the spoon back. Ah, the bread!

“How sweet?” he asks, his voice soft against the background noise.

You look around, your eyes finding your customers still waiting. They are on your phone as of now, giggling over something. You shouldn’t keep them waiting. “This sweet,” pressing a soft, quick peck to his cheek as you murmur with a smile, not missing the way his eyes widen slightly.

You don’t need to turn to see his reaction; the faint pause says enough.

It’s there in the brief stillness, in the way his hand hovers just a moment too long before he continues stirring.

After a beat, you hear the faintest sound — a small, disbelieving chuckle, soft and unsure, just as rich as the syrup. “That. . . that was. . . ” he trails off, words just a little slower than usual, cheeks flushed even when his body, you know, doesn’t truly circulate blood.

Your order sweeps you back before he can react further as you turn toward the waiting group of teenagers who’ve been watching from a nearby table, their faces alight with barely-contained laughter. You give them a small smile and nod as they bark out their joy, high-fiving.

The group leaves with fresh bread and happy faces.

You turn back to Taehyung who seems to be a bit too concentrated in stirring the syrup which he’s been doing since ten minutes. “That was a dare,” you tell him, trying to stifle the laugh which threatens to bubble up your throat.

There’s a small shift in his expression.

So slight that you might’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention. The smile on his lips fades a fraction, replaced with a look you don’t often see from him — a pout which has his lips jutting out, a sight so adorable that it pulls at something inside you.

“So. . . . you didn’t mean it?” he murmurs, eyes lowering as he turns away, almost as if he’s shy.

And there it is — that softness, a note in his voice you hadn’t expected, something almost tender, scared. His question lingers in the air, hanging on to a thread you’re not quite ready to pull.

Did it have to be this specific moment where there are no customers barging in anymore. . . ?

“Would you . . . would you . . . . mind if I did ?” The words slip out, your heart beating a little faster as his gaze meets yours, steady yet gentle, pulling you closer without even trying.

His eyes flicker to your lips before finding your gaze again, and for a moment, the world beyond the bakery fades into nothing. He leans just a little closer as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Well,” he murmurs, lips curving up in that familiar, lazy smile that oddly resembles something in between a box and a smirk. “you might just have to find out.”

And when you feel his arms cage you in between the counter, you think maybe — just maybe — this is the sweetest thing of all.

a/n : happy halloween!! 🎃 i live in an area where halloween is barely known, let alone celebrated. so it’s always going to be a fascinating to me ! while i saw my oomfs online dressing up as characters, i was busy lighting up earthen lamps xD i hope you enjoyed this smol baby and as always, your feedback means a lot to me ! here’s an anonymous feedback box for you just in case 🍁

[schrodingers-romy]

Lemon Blueberry [Suzuri Shuhei x Reader]

Pairing: Suzuri Shuhei x GN!Reader Word Count: ~2300 [Ao3 Link]

Summary: Shuhei bakes for the first time, with you

Warnings: Spoilers for the manga (suzuri's backstory and current occupation); also warning for light mentions of Stuff Pertinent to his backstory as well; no gendered pronouns or terms are used for the reader; kissing; feeding each other food with your hands idk; written with aged up suzuri in mind

Notes: wrote this a while ago and it's barely edited but I haven't seen any suzuri fics so I have to make my own food <3

The light of the setting sun bathed the kitchen in its soft honey glow. Your focus shifted for just a second, away from the finicky stand mixer in front of you to the window, no doubt admiring the clouds cast in their colorful glow. And as cliché as it sounds, Shuhei thought that you are undoubtedly more beautiful than any sunset could ever be.

And to think he used to mock those who loved…

It still seemed like a dream sometimes. Partially the idea of making an honest living, enough for the rent on an apartment and a healthy three meals a day without stretching it; things he fought bloody tooth and nail for in the past were now within his grasp. And even more than that, he was fulfilled emotionally and mentally in a way that he never was before. He had pride in himself now, not the false, vindictively bitter and caustic ‘pride’ he had before, but true pride. The sort that came from improving, and learning, and going to sleep every night feeling content in himself and his actions.

(In his darker moments, he feared going to sleep, just in case when he woke, he was back There and all of this was the machinations of his starved mind.)

If it was all a dream, Shuhei thought, you were certainly the cruelest part of it. You, who befriended him back when he was still the starved, bruised wraith who first started working in the kitchen of a fancy red light restaurant, scrubbing plates until his hands peeled. You, who knew his dirty past from Tsubaki, but never looked down on him for it. You, who treated him like a person, and who made him feel more real than he had in years. You, who through soft smiles and gentle teasing and homecooked meals gave him his first taste of what falling in love must feel like. He never really believed in any sort of benevolent god (what sort of good god would let him suffer as he once did, anyway); yet he prayed every night that this (that you) were real.

Seemingly oblivious to his thoughts, you broke the silence by giving the mixer a theatrical slap on its side, like you were patting the flank of a beloved horse. “Are you ready?” you asked.

He nodded a little stiffly, hoping you hadn’t noticed him staring. (Although, you were a bit oblivious, he thought, because he is horrible at hiding his infatuation with you).

Shuhei had been over to your house a handful of times, mostly to hang out, or for dinner. This is the first time he would be helping in your kitchen. Despite the fact that he had been learning all that he could about cooking from his job, he had never baked something in his life. And that’s where you came in.

After hearing that, the first thing you suggested was for him to come over so the two of you could bake something together, and he had jumped at the golden opportunity to not only learn a new skill, but also to spend time with you (and also to eat good food, but that was a given).

“I hope you don’t mind, I had something picked out already,” you said, as you adjusted the colorful containers of ingredients situated on the counter in front of you. “Cookies are kind of the obvious thing to bake for your first time, but I have a recipe I think you’ll really like.”

“And what’s that?”

You turn the full force of your smile to him, and he squints a bit. “Lemon blueberry bread! I know you like the taste of fresh fruit, so I thought this would be perfect. And it’s not a very difficult recipe anyway.”

You were right…as you usually were about him. He had never told you, but he did gravitate towards fruit when he had the chance. Fruit was a luxury he could never really partake in where he used to live; it spoiled quickly and couldn’t be kept down when it was bad. Even the thought of fresh lemons and blueberries had him salivating, and you laughed at his eager expression.

“You know me so well,” he said, careful to keep his voice from being too sappy.

You flashed him another smile, and presented him with a measuring cup. “Can you measure out the sugar for me?”

-

Shuhei was a fast learner, and it was no different with baking. He had a lot of questions, and you answered them to the best of your ability.

“Why do you add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients instead of the other way around?”

“I’m sure there’s probably a scientific reason for it that I don’t know…but it is less messy than dumping a bunch of powder, and when you pour the liquid, it mixes a bit instead of just floating on top.”

“How do you know it’s done mixing?”

“Depends on what you’re making. Here it should look uniform and smooth…see how there’s still some little lumps in there? It needs to go for longer. Some recipes need to be mixed for a long time, so they get more air in them…doesn’t really matter for this though.”

“Why are you putting flour on the blueberries?”

“It keeps them from sinking when it bakes, so you get blueberries all the way through the bread instead of just at the bottom.”

“Can I eat some of it now?”

You hesitated for a second. “Well…you’re not really supposed to eat stuff with raw egg in it, but we should have a little taste, so we know if we need to add anything.” You pulled a spoon out of seemingly nowhere and dipped the tip of it in the yellow batter. Shuhei expected you to hand the spoon to him, but instead you held it up towards his mouth, and looked at him expectantly.

He could feel his face heating up at the fact that you’re feeding him; and he panicked a little bit. He ended up biting down hard on the spoon when he tried to taste the batter, making an audible click.

The two of you winced in unison, his from pain and yours from sympathy.

“I’d give that a zero out of ten for gracefulness,” you commented, “But anyway how does it taste?”

Shuhei felt even more red than he was before, but through his embarrassment and the pain in his teeth, he can still taste the bright citrus flavor. “It’s good.”

“Knew it!” you crowed, and then you gave him a heart attack by using the spoon to take your own sampling of the batter. “Mmmm. Yeah. We did good.”

You used the same spoon that he had just had in his mouth. That was essentially an indirect kiss.

You were going to be the death of him.

-

After the bread was placed in the oven, and all the dishes were washed and put away, the two of you sat down on the couch to await the ding of the timer.

“So, how do you feel after your first time baking?” you asked, looking at him hopefully.

Shuhei knew you wanted him to enjoy it, and he privately thought it was cute of you to be so invested in his happiness. Luckily for you, Shuhei loved making food (and he loved spending time with you). “I feel good. It was fun, I just hope it turns out good.”

Your laughter leaned more into a cackle than a giggle, but he still thought you were adorable. “I thought you’d like it! And I’m sure it will be delicious, especially since you helped me.” You shuffled a bit closer to him on the couch to give him a teasing poke, your eyes sparkling.

He raised an eyebrow at you, trying to keep the corner of his mouth from twitching up in amusement. “Oh, does my help make it better?”

“Hmmm…I don’t know…didn’t your boss tell you you had ‘the magic touch’ with food last week?” you said, smirking at him. “Maybe you added some of your magic to this bread.”

He scoffed, turning away from you to hide his blush. “My boss is too nice. I just pick things up quickly, that’s all. ‘S nothing special.”

You poked at him again, repeatedly with your finger until he turned back towards you to smack your hand away (gently, because he didn’t want to hurt you). Your face had dropped its previous joking expression, replaced with a painfully open one. His heart caught in his throat at the soft curve of your mouth and the warmth in your eyes.

“I think you’re pretty special,” you said earnestly; your eyes shine with something he can now recognize looks a lot like love.

The timer sounded at that moment, and you sprung up from your spot to go check the bread. You moved suspiciously quickly, like you were embarrassed at your admission.

Shuhei remained sitting on the couch, frozen. He felt more dazed than when Tsubaki had cleaned his clock with a kick to his head. He barely dared to hope…but maybe, just maybe, you also felt for him what he felt for you.

-

The bread was already out of the oven and cooling when Shuhei pulled himself together and entered the kitchen. The two of you stared at the cooling bread in silence for a moment. The kitchen is filled with the warm scent of baked bread and sweet lemon. Shuhei felt the urge to lick the bread so he could finally taste it. His stomach growled, breaking the silence.

“I’m so fucking hungry,” he finally said.

“Oh my gosh, same,” you said. “It smells so good I think I’m drooling.”

“How long do we have to wait to eat?”

“I mean…really we should wait until it fully cools so we can put the glaze on…”

He turned to give you his best starving puppy dog face (a face he has created and perfected in the time he has known you).

You hesitated, glancing between him, the bread, and the unused glass of lemon glaze. He could see the conflict in your eyes, until you finally gave in, shoulders slumping as you sigh.

“Y’know what, it’s cool enough. You wanna do the honors?”

He was a little clumsy with the glaze, and most of it is absorbed into the warm bread, but you applauded him when he was done anyways. “Okay now, you’re officially done with your first bake!”

“Time to eat?” he asked eagerly.

You broke out an oversized bread knife, which glinted in the light. (If you weren’t so cute, Shuhei thought, it would look threatening). “Yup!”

-

You sit next to each other on the hard kitchen floor, each holding a thick, warm slice of bread in your bare hands, because you were both too hungry to grab plates and utensils and move to a table.

You gave him a nod, and he took his first bite.

If Shuhei thought the batter was good, the finished bread was heavenly. It was soft, but still packed a powerful burst of tart lemon flavor, and the blueberries had cooked down into an almost jam-like consistency that gave the perfect sweetness to the rest of the bread. Before he knew it, he had devoured the entire slice ravenously.

When he looked back up, you were still holding your own slice, forgotten as you stared at him.

He felt a burst of self-consciousness. He knew he still ate like a rabid animal sometimes; his mind and body still remembered what it was like to starve, even when his stomach was full.

But you don’t look like you’re judging him. Instead, you have that same shine in your eyes again.

“It’s good,” he said lamely, to break the tension.

You simply smiled at this and broke off a piece of your own slice of bread, holding it out to him, towards his mouth (once again).

Shuhei was careful to be gentle this time. He tried to keep from touching you, but your fingers brush against his lips anyway. His skin burned where you touched, and he burned even more under your unmoving gaze.

He reached out for your bread, breaking off a piece himself. It’s clear you expected him to eat it, but it’s his turn to surprise you. He held out the chunk of bread to you, fingers trembling minutely with his nervousness. He resolutely kept his eyes on you, even though he could feel his face radiating heat, so he didn’t miss seeing the shock on your face, and the light glaze to your eyes as you take the piece from his hand.

Your lips were soft when they touched his calloused fingers, and his heart stuttered when he felt the lightest touch of your tongue.

You finished the slice off that way, feeding each other pieces without speaking a word. When it’s finally gone, he reached out one more time, to grab your hands and cradle them in his own.

Shuhei knew how he felt about you; he never really thought you felt anything more than friendship for him, but this night had opened his eyes. Even if he was wrong, after all of this, he finally had the courage to find out what you really felt.

He waited to see if you pulled away, but instead you edged closer to him.

“Hey Shuhei,” you murmured.

“Yeah?” he asked, breathless.

The way you looked at him was so filled with tenderness; it almost made his eyes water. “I like you,” you said. “I like you, so much. I might love you.”

He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he let out a shuddering exhale at your words.

“I’ve never felt like this about anyone before,” he confessed. “But I think it’s love.”

Your answer came in the form of a kiss.

Your lips were even softer when they were pressed against his own, and the flavor of lemon and blueberry was even sweeter when he licked it from inside your mouth.

[kmenkea]

Bloodlust - Part 8

Summary: "That drow. That damned drow. She was surely plotting something, trying to ruin him in some way, through her pleasantries. It was just in her nature." Doubt creeps in Astarion's mind about his travelling companion. And yet he cannot stop caring. Why does it hurt so much to be betrayed from her? And what if, maybe, he should trust her after all? Why else would she defend him when so close to victory?

A/N: This chapter and the next (probably next 2) are going to be from Astarion's POV. I wanted to experiment with his side of the story and show what he might be feeling (or at least how I HC what he feels)

But, I want to say that I will take a longer break from publishing this fanfic. I want to highlight that it is not over and will keep posting, but I just need a bit of time. I broke up with my long time partner and the thought of romance just makes me feel bad. He was also my beta reader, so that's a problem I'll have to sort somehow lol. anyway, hope you're liking it so far. Let me know what you think.

Read on AO3

(I like the idea of him having golden eyes when alive)

Astarion’s eyes darted through the bushes, following the patch of brown fur hiding among the foliage. His steps were light on the soft ground, so that he was able to get close to the animal. It raised its nose, smelling his presence in the wind, but it was already too late. With a jump, the vampire grabbed both ears of the rabbit. The little beast screeched and kicked upwards to escape, flailing until… a twist. Its body limp and the neck dislocated. Without wasting a second, the vampire bit the rabbit; its little heart pumped its precious blood into his mouth. 

The taste was horrible, wild and muddy, like stale bread. His heart and gut were ignited by agony. The red liquid poured into his mouth and down his throat and he waited for the fire to subsize, for each laceration of his viscera to close, but the respite that came was so miniscule, a balm that only slowed, not stopped the erosion of his insides.

The elf threw the carcass to the ground, swiping his chin with the back of his hand. This was the third animal he ate that evening. By all accounts he should have been full. Gods, he used to drink dead rats and insects, these rabbits would have been a glorious feast just a few weeks ago. But now he wanted more. He was eager for sweetness, to share a soul and feel it slip under his fangs, not to pluck fur from in between his teeth while walking back to camp. 

That drow had absolutely ruined him. 

Everytime a drop of her blood was spilled, his senses couldn’t help but flare up, his stomach churn and growl and his fingers twitch in anticipation. He wanted her neck so badly, to bite into that soft warm flesh and take all for himself, everything he had missed in two hundred years of undeath. It smelled of gracious elven blood, but with deep, dark notes of moss. Cool like an underground lake, yet fiery and violent like lava. Abyssal and chaotic, losing his mind in a spiral that forced him down towards her.

He let out a sigh as his knees almost went limp, reminiscing of that glorious taste. 

He reached the safety of their camp, back in the wilderness and his eyes couldn’t help but fall on Leeith: she was laying down near the fire with Karlach, Shadowheart hovering over them: both of their feet had been badly mangled by traps hidden below the mud of the swamp. It looked like such a peaceful lakeside forest, until the illusion vanished and all that was left was rotting wood and, well, traps that neither of them noticed. They were forced to cut the day short and return to camp. Lae’zel and Wyll were in charge of finding food and preparing their camp. 

He caught a whiff of that delicious honey, and the flame in his heart rose again, opening his wounds. He was hungry again. 

But everything was lost.

It took all his might to ignore them and hide in the safety of his little tent. 

All and all, it was a cosy little space: it was cramped and dark, littered with old dirty jars. The smell of old blood filled his nostrils and, even if it was almost putrid, it was welcome: at least the disgust pushed away the longing for better food. What a beautiful ambience!

In the dark, he took off his cumbersome gambeson and heavy boots, changing them for soft leather shoes and his clean shirt. Astarion's hands smoothed out the fabric over his chest, picking a leaf or two out of the threads and checking his trousers for any stain. Surely he looked perfect as always, didn't even need a mirror to know he was astonishingly handsome and his hair was set up perfectly. His face with his… lips? What shape were they again? He traced a finger over them, feeling the little incave in the middle and how strong the curvature was. He imprinted it into his mind, or at least tried to see it. It didn't matter, he knew his lips were hardly his best feature, surely his eyes were much more important, with perfect eyebrows and long eyelashes, surely. He passed a finger over them, but it was no use. 

He couldn't see it. He couldn't remember his face at all. He reached for a little mirror, thrown carelessly under his bedroll: there he was. Or should have been. Understandable, his tent was extremely dark, he just needed to step foot outside, feel the torchlight shine in his eyes, raise the mirror again and… still nothing. He stared into the mirror more, to catch even a glimpse of his forsaken and forgotten eyes. All was truly lost. Even the tadpole couldn't give back himself.

Like clockwork, there she was, walking towards him, less spring in her step, but still gracious and inviting. It was time for their evening conversation, apparently; everyday, a little bit of time they would carve for one another. It was almost pleasurable.

The vampire's heart twisted and burnt again, his hunger yet again demanded to be satisfied. It could have been so easy to ask for blood from the drow, but could he pay the price? If one single thing was true about her, is that nothing of hers was free. Surely he could have asked for blood or help with the necromancer's tome or a number of other things, but what was the cost going to be? Sex he could give, but to be bound to her forever, like she asked the night prior? Switch a master for another? Unthinkable. 

She stopped dead in her tracks, staring at him with those deep red eyes. They probably were the same colour as his, if he had to guess.

“Looking at something?” He met her gaze in the reflection of the mirror. The drow's expression was just plain.

“Just looking. What are you doing?” She raised an eyebrow, motioning at the empty mirror.

“I'm looking too, but not seeing very much. Another quirk of my… affliction.” Leeith gave an understanding nod, still standing behind him. She knew of his little reflection problem already, so his answer wasn't surprising.

“Do you miss it? Looking at your face” Such a sweet and understanding voice, it almost made him believe she did care about his sorry carcass. Astarion turned around to face her, wearing a little snobbish grin.

“Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity? Of course I miss it. I've never even seen this face, not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.” The drow nodded, mentioning something about how right he was. The vampire had a quip ready, but…

“What colour were they before?” The question surprised him. He stopped, focusing on his own image as the smile died from his lips. How could this stupid dark elf always make him drop his act and reach under his skin.

“I- I don't know. I can't remember. My face is just some dark shape in the past.” Bile and anger rose in him. How could he forget his own appearance? What use was freedom, when he still couldn't have back the most basic part of himself. “Another thing I've lost.” He smashed the hand mirror on the ground: useless trinket.

Leeith jolted back a bit, out of the way of the sharp shards. Her hand twitched upwards, maybe wanting to reassure him, while the vampire just stared at her. She stopped, running her eyes all around his face and body.

“What?” Said Astarion, confused by her sudden inquisitiveness.

“I'll be your mirror. What do you want to know?” She was warm, so unbecoming of a creature of the underdark. 

“And what do you see exactly?” His lips said against his will. How could this stupid dark elf always make him feel welcome and worthy of companionship.

She squinted. “Strong piercing eyes.” Mh, yes, of course: his eyes were always quite spectacular.

“Oh, go on” The vampire smiled, basking in compliments.

“That dangerous smile.” Apparently Leeith was a connoisseur of quality. His heart swelled with pride.

“Very good. Now tell me I'm beautiful and we can call it a day.” The vampire raised his chin and closed his eyes, posing like a great statue.

“Is that all you want? Shallow praise?” She mocked whilst chuckling, making Astarion raise an eyebrow.

“Hardly. There's also gold, sex, revenge. Quite the list, really. But failing any of those, I'll always settle for shallow praise.” She smiled and took a deep breath. 

“You are beautiful, Astarion. The Deva of the higher planes and the Incubi of the hells, may only dream of achieving your perfection. The dawn shining on morningdew cannot compare to your radiant self. My heart can only ache when blessed to witness your glorious figure.” She had her hands on her heart, reciting the verses. There it was, her allure shining through her words, the force of personality to bend people's will to her own whims with a glare and a few honeyed words. Astarion felt… weirdly comforted. Even if she jested, maybe there was truth to it. He hoped.  

“Mirror's aren't much use. But being reflected in someone else's eyes? Well, I could do worse.” 

“If you need more reassurance of your beauty, just ask away. I might have Wyll teach me a few sonnets if that will be of help.” 

He laughed it off and they parted ways soon after. The drow needed to recover and Astarion too would have an early trance, to wake up and admire the dawn on the morrow. 

A certain amount of peace was comfortably sitting in his chest that morning: the day was so bright and warm it almost felt like summer and the forest air was rejuvenating on his naked skin. The grass below his back was soft and still wet with dew, smelling musty and herbal. What he was mostly happy for was the sun shining brightly upon him.  

He still didn't know what he looked like, but it was reassuring that whatever he was, he could count on the beauty of his appearance still. At least, according to what Leeith said the night before. Many in his life had complimented it, but it was most often drunkards who unlucky wanted to bed him. None of their words were true. 

And for as much as he wished otherwise, the drow was one of them. She had to be plotting something. It was just in her nature. Why else would she be so friendly with him specifically? He had been such a fool to think that she maybe saw him as a true friend, that saw his interior world. 

He remembered that day in the blighted village, after killing the ogres, when she showed off her golden tongue. And later, after the wizard left: that morning she talked so much about being a just leader and only trying to protect the grove from the threat of an explosion. Lies, all of them probably. She held everyone - the tieflings and the druids alike - in contempt. She didn't care about their lives, so something else must have been the cause. It was no secret that the drow despised Gale because of an old insult. Could she have killed him? Was that the end of everyone who displeased her? If she was lying about everything that morning, he would have, should have, picked up on something: a word out of a place, a tinge of anxiety in her eyes or an intimidating remark. Instead she laid herself almost bare, relaxed, sorry even.

Threats and deceit were the only thing she knew and she was a master at both. In two hundred years he had done nothing but lie. But Leeith's charisma was a talent that surpassed his own. 

Doubt of her had settled and with every passing day, it grew. When was the drow going to show the cards up her sleeve? What was going to happen to him? Was she just Cazador’s mole? Why did the thought of these days all being a lie hurt him so much? She was just like anyone else, a helpful tool towards his freedom, no matter how much he enjoyed the time spent together. No matter how different it felt to lay with her under the trees. 

He had thought much about that night; it kept coming back to him, both when awake and in his dreams. As time buried the disgust he felt, something more came to light: more than the realisation of his freedom, of the warmth they shared, of her blood spilling in his mouth. Nothing so platonic. 

He had just enjoyed the night. Carnally. Past the act he put up, he just couldn’t resist reliving her moans, his pleasure, her pleasure, the tightness of her body around his member. The feeling of his fingers running across that pale grey skin and the moment she pushed him to the ground, grinning, wanting him. And the end, when he couldn’t help but fall down on her, feeling like he had died for just a little bit of time. He wanted it again. Astarion was almost compelled to ask to share his bed a second time. 

But he couldn't with a backstabbing drow such as her. No matter how sweet and genuine Leeith’s smile was for him - and him alone.  

Gods! Whatever! He was going to keep his friendly act up until it was useful and, if need be, he knew he could always count on his dagger and the shroud of darkness. A golden tongue wouldn't save her from his golden, bloody hands. 

“Astarion!” And there she was, screaming his name from somewhere in the forest. He didn’t respond, annoyed by the fact his sunbathing time was disturbed. His name was called a few more times, along with angry words in Undercommon. 

“Over here, dear.” He sighed at last, without moving an inch. The sound of steps got closer until finally the drow was squatting by his side. 

“Good morning, handsome.” She said in a lusty, deep tone. “Sorry for interrupting your ‘Lizard time’.” 

“Ugh, why would you compare me to such a foul critter?” He winced, still with his eyes closed.

“Because I don’t know other overworld creatures that sunbathe - and the animals in the underdark don’t know what the sun is.” She was so good at faking joy in her voice, it almost sounded like she was genuinely happy to see him. Disgusting. 

“If you’ve come here just to insult me, please, spare your words. I’ve had enough of this.” His tone came out a bit more rude than he had anticipated. Astarion finally sat up. Leeith seemed a bit taken aback by the sudden outburst. Surprise quickly turned into resentment and he could see her eyes narrow.

“I just came here to tell you we’re leaving and if you want to come or not.” She got up. “If you don’t, it’s fine, I’ll just have Wyll along.” The vampire weighed his options for a second.

“For as much as I would love to do nothing but lounge while you risk your life for me and the thought of spending my entire day being glared at by Lae’zel delights me, I think I’ll come along, darling.” He picked up his shirt and shoes from the ground, quickly putting them back on. 

“Are you sure? You seem a bit off. I’d rather not have you freak out at the worst of times.” The drow crossed her arms, clearly studying him. She was still irritated, but also maybe… concerned? Was she scared that her little act had been discovered? 

“Oh, don’t you worry. I'm still as sharp as ever. I just don't like to be disturbed while I work on my tan.” She raised an eyebrow right before shrugging.

“Maybe looking tanned like a common farm hand will bring your ego down to mortal levels.” They both began walking to camp. The vampire noticed how she avoided direct sunlight and winced when a ray hit her eyes.

“That's quite impossible. I would still be a world-endingly beautiful elf. A hidden diamond.” 

“Under the mud and cow dung, sure, you would be a very splendid gem.” 

“Of course I would. You demonstrate that beauty can be born even from the worst of people, dark elf.” Astarion leaned down a bit, placing a hand over her shoulder. He hadn't met many drows in his life, but she did look beautiful. Even her red tinted hair had a certain wild charm. 

“Drow. Not “dark elf”. Don't put me together with you Darthiir.” Fortunately her drow supremacist rant came to rescue him from thinking more about her positive traits. She was the enemy. Astarion had to categorically stop thinking good things about her. 

How unfortunate, then, that on that very day, they would meet an old face. 

As they explored deeper into the swamp, baaing at redcaps who still thought they were polymorphed into sheep - which annoyingly got a chuckle out of the vampire no matter how hard he told himself to stop finding the drow interesting - the party ran into a man. The smell around him was so rancid, leagues above the putrid waters that surrounded them. Astarion recognised his old acquaintance in a heartbeat: a Gur. Of course, no other people could smell so foul but his kind. They infested the city with their presence, and, after what they did to him, his hate was more than justified. The vampire was ready to bar his fangs, but as always, Leeith spoke up first.

“Oh stranger, forgive the aroma. Powdered iron-wine. An old hunter’s trick: most monsters will think twice before making a meal out of me.” The Gur glossed over everyone. He didn’t pay any mind to Astarion, acting friendly. This gave him enough confidence to walk up to him. Rage was bubbling up his chest and it took all of his effort not to point a dagger at the fool's throat already. 

“You’re a monster hunter? I’m surprised: I thought all Gur were vagrant cut-throats.”  The man shook his head, sighing at him, but still at ease.

“What's a Gur? He looks plain like any other surface dweller.” The drow gestured at him. Was she… feigning ignorance now? How could Gurs not fester in the Underdark too?

The hunter responded, diverging Leeith's attention from the elf. 

“We’re a mystical and dangerous people; we travel the land, never settling in one place. We steal your chickens, curse your crops, seduce your daughters. Your friend here has heard it all, I'm sure. I wish we had half the powers settled folks think we possess. Alas I'm a simple wanderer - a simple wanderer and monster hunter. But I'm no witchdoctor or cut-throat.” Monster hunters. Tks, more like thugs and barbarians who shouldn't be allowed to be near civilised societies. 

“If I were a cut-throat I wouldn't admit it either.” Said Leeith. Of course the traitorous bastard wouldn’t admit to it. How many more things was she still hiding? Why were they still talking to the Gur in front of them, he was just a nuisance. Even his voice was enough to make the hair on his nape stand up in disgust. 

“True. And I have no proof to offer but my word. If you wish, our path need not cross again. I'm haunting a vampire spawn and it is a little too bright for you to be my prey. His name's Aatarion and I'm afraid he's gone to ground-” The world fell into silence. If his heart still beat, it would have given up just now. 

Gods of course: there was no other reason for her to still be talking to this Gur. How could he be so blind. So blinded by… what? Companionship? For two hundred years he had uses Cazador’s teachings to make people fall for him. How could he not recognise the same tactics, the flirtiness and fake concern that the drow sported in every word, just enough to make him trust her, the same routine he was forced to learn. 

Were the devil and the half-blood in on it? They probably wouldn’t have turned their backs on the drow for a useless spawn such as himself. He couldn’t win against four people, he would run away at the first opportunity. He wasn’t going to let a fucking drow sell him off. 

He lowered his eyes at her and the insufferable smirk that was surely painting her lips. She was already signing her victory no doubt about it. 

They glanced at each other: what was up with her face? Her lips were thin and a brow raised, while her eyelids shot open with surprise. That wasn’t the expression of a winner. 

“And when you'll find this ‘Astarion’ you'll kill him?” She returned nonchalant in a split second, hand carefully slipping by the handle of her rapier. 

“Not this time. My orders are to capture him” Her stance changed, one foot stepping behind the other, the rest of her body facing the hunter: it was very subtle, merely shifting her weight around, but enough to let the vampire know that she was ready to attack a common enemy. 

“Oh, and bring him where exactly?” Said Astarion, testing the waters. He was still ready to jump backwards and run, maybe throw a vial of acid behind him to slow down his captors. 

“Baldur's gate. My people wait for me there.” Leeith glanced back at the vampire with a tense gaze: they both knew who was waiting in the city. She still hadn’t made a move against him either. Maybe he had been too quick to judge. Surely if she had to apprehend him, she would have attacked already, not keep drawing information from the Gur. And he looked more and more confused, but also still relaxed, unaware of the elf’s identity. 

“Only a spawn? Pity, it's not like he is a real vampire.” Said Leeith, with a mocking tone. Astarion glared at her: how could she joke at a moment like this. Frankly, he should have cut her just for the insult. 

“I don't know. I'm sure a vampire spawn could still rip out your throat if he felt like it.” He limited himself to words, but he was going to complain about it later. Maybe sink his fangs a little deeper next time he fed.

“He is right, unfortunately. They are only weak when compared to their masters. During the day we have the advantage. But at night, when they hunt? You will not find a more deadly quarry.” Gods, this “monster hunter” was still so clueless. He felt insulted that Cazador would choose someone as dense as him. 

The drow and the elf eyed each other: they didn't need words nor the connection of the tadpoles to understand what the other thought.

“Interesting. So, Astarion what do you think?” She smirked, leaving the stage open for him. 

“That's Astarion? No, impossible!” The look on the Gur’s face was priceless. 

“These days I'm making the impossible look easy.” Then the vampire turned to his faithful friend. “May I?” 

The Gur scrambled back, unprepared to deal with him just now.

“After you.” She bowed theatrically, her arm lighting up with magic. 

“Thank you dear.” With an elegant nod, Astarion loaded a bolt in his crossbow. 

The hunter had stepped backwards in the meantime, taking aim right for the vampire. He felt vines grow right from below his feet which snatched him on the spot, making him unable to dodge the subsequent crossbow shot. He hissed in pain, but still raised his arm and shot back. Maybe spending that much time joking with Leeith wasn't the best of choices, but no matter: he had her backing him and even Karlach and Shadowheart were joining in the fight, running at their assailant. 

Leeith remained close to him, summoning eldritch blasts from her fingertips, recoiling back everytime they burst. Her eyebrows were furrowed and focused, noticed the vampire even in the midst of battle. 

The hunter shot again, hell bent on at least killing him even if it cost his life. A mistake, because his aim was pathetic now that the two massive women were in front of him, swinging at him with sword and spells. He was able to dodge a few, but, at every opportunity, a blast or a crossbow bolt would come right at him from far away. Rancid blood and sweat poured out of him and his breathing got heavier. 

Astarion was being defended by everyone. He was not alone. This newfound confidence improved his skills and none of his shots missed their targets. 

And it was him who dealt the final blow, right at the man's knee, shattering it no doubt. The hunter fell down, still conscious, whimpering in pain from all the cuts and burns on his body. 

Leeith helped the elf out of the grappling vines, checking if he was ok with a glance. He waved her away and reached in his pocket for one of her exquisitely brewed potions. 

The drow walked in front of the Gur and knelt by his side, grabbing a fistful of his long hair to stare in his terrorised eyes. He begged between short breaths.

“What is your name?” Her tone was stern.

“Gan-Gandrel. Please. Please- I- mercy. Please please.” His voice got weaker with every word. 

“Now, Grandrel, I would love nothing more than to let you live. My old friends used to say I am the most merciful drow of the underdark.” The vampire looked at her with an inquisitive gaze. Was she not going to kill him? Was she stupid? Death was too good for that man. He thought of sprinting into action, but Leeith pointed a dagger at the Gur's throat not an instant later.

“I would love nothing more than to let you go back to Cazador and make you tell him that a Lolth’s servant is coming after him, ready to fuck his uptight ass with sand and broken glass. Maybe get a gnoll to do it.” A shiver ran down Astarion's spine. Fear yes, but also the pleasure of vengeance. Leeith's words were enticing and full of desire, making love to his vampiric ears. He had no doubt that she was being truthful, too. 

“But unfortunately, you're a liability for us. What if you told the bastard of our position, uh?” The Gur tried to plead more, but she stopped him by placing the dagger on his lips. “Let me finish, Gandrel. Not only you're a liability to us, but also to yourself. Cazador - the guy who employed you - is a true vampire. If the stories a true, he is quite apt at torture and suffering. What do you think would happen to you if you came back without Astarion, uh? As I said, I am the most merciful drow.” She turned around to stare at Astarion, extending her dagger by the handle. “Care to finish him off, darling?” 

Astarion smiled, kneeling in front of her. Their red eyes met, becoming one. How could he have ever doubted her? There was no one in the world more alike to him than that drow. No one who better understood him nor was ever as willing to murder for him. She was above and beyond his rosiest expectations. 

Crimson sprayed over both their faces and they smiled at each other.

Maybe praying even to Lolth all those many years ago had not been a mistake, if this was the custodian angel she sent. 

“You really are a sick fuck for slitting a man's throat like that.” Said Karlach, interrupting their moment. 

“You had as strong a hand in killing him than any of us did. You just didn’t land the killing blow.” Leeith was patting his corpse, pocketing anything she found useful. Not that there was much except for a heavy crossbow he couldn’t use.

“But he was pleading for his life. We could have spared him or just- not tell him that he was Astarion. We could have turned back and forgotten about this.” The tiefling was trying to be reasonable, but the drow shrugged and rolled her eyes.

“The man wanted to kidnap our friend. I value Astarion’s life much higher than that of a cut-throat. What would have happened once he was healed back? Or what if a much worse monster came to us? This guy was ready to sign a deal with a hag to find him, that would have fared badly for all of us. I look after my people. I almost risked my life to get rid of your own kidnappers, remember?” She stood up, and the two argued for a little more, until the cleric stopped them, fed up with both. They both stood on their convictions, so it was better to cut it here before spirits turned sour. 

They still had parts of the swamp to explore. Karlach went in front to avoid Leeith and was followed by Shadowheart. The vampire and the drow remained a few metres back, gossiping. 

“So, there’s a monster hunter after you?” Said Leeith. He knew the conversation was coming.

“Not anymore, which is all that matters really.” He tried deflecting, but she wasn’t having it. 

“What if there are others? He might not have been alone.” 

“We'll deal with them, like we did with this one.” A certain worry was weighing down his heart, ripping the smile off of his lips. 

“Are you sure Cazador is behind this?” A useless question and she knew it, judging by how heavy her voice was, so that no one could hear them. 

“It was him. I'm sure. Only he would know to send a Gur after me.” He struggled to contain the volume down. “It was a group of Gur that attacked me that night in Baldur's Gate. I would have died had Cazador not appeared and saved me.” 

“What a good heart he had: saved you by making you a slave.” She scoffed

“Well, he didn't mention the slave clause at the time. And now he sends a Gur monster hunter to look for me. It's a message.” He slowed his pace down to a halt, absorbing in the view. “He's reminding me of his power. Even in the middle of nowhere he can reach me and he wants me back.” 

“But why would he? Why not just kill you?” She stopped beside him, signalling to Karlach and Shadowheart to push farther on their own. Astarion appreciated it, not having his secrets made public domain. This still couldn't hide the sadness in his voice.

“Maybe he wants to make an example out of me. To show what happens to runaways. Or maybe he thinks death would have been too good for me.” 

“I would love to say you're safe here, but… He won't let go easy, will he? How concerned should I be?” She held her chin with one hand, in thought. Was she dumb enough to think she could pick a fight with a vampire now? Or did she not know anything about them.

“Concerned? Do you know the powers a vampire lord possesses?” His temper rose up, remembering all the terrible things he had witnessed his master do. “He can change shape, turn into mist, call wolves to do his bidding, shrug off blows like they're nothing. He could walk into our camp tonight and kill you with his bare hands. And you'll be lucky if death is the worst thing that happens to you.” He pointed a finger in her face, which she stared at and moved away gently.

“All right. You know him best. What do you suggest?” 

“First we have to… uh.” Started the vampire, trying to come up with something. The more plans he had, the more he had to turn down in his head. Most of those plans didn't go further than storm the palace in the morning and kill him. ”I don't know! If we keep killing his lackeys he'll just send more. We just have to be vigilant; keep our wits about us. And kill any monster hunter on sight.” The drow raised her brow and couldn't hide a smirk. 

Astarion felt insulted. Who did she believe herself to be? He was the one that had to suffer. He had made a grave mistake forgiving her. And why were her hands reaching for his throat now? She couldn't strangle him since he didn't breath- she put her hands on his shoulders at the base of the neck. He tried to pull away from the unwanted touch, but she squeezed him lightly, reassuringly. A bit of her body heat spread down even with the thick gambeson he was wearing. It took all of his composure and will power not to lean in her gentle touch.

“Hey.” She looked serious, but calming. “I know it seems hard right now, ok? And I know vampires are strong. I probably couldn't kill one right now. But don't let your fear make you wander far. There's miles between here and the city and he can't travel easily overground. He won't come. And by the time we reach Baldur's Gate, we will have grown stronger. And I promise you, he will suffer. You can carve a poem into his back too, do even more revisions, uh? Besides, he can't control you with the tadpole still inside your mind and you are a proficient rogue, you'll escape again.” He shook his head and straightened his back. 

“Oh you are a sweetheart, but I'm not going to delude myself.” He wriggled free of her hold, not without a part of him suddenly missing the comforting warmth. She lowered her arms and shrugged, then turned to walk away. 

“I know fear. I have dealt with mine and freed myself of it. You will too, I'm sure of that Astarion. Until then, follow your advice, keep your wits and a clear head.”

[adamarmeadowcroft]

Adamar groaned as the blissful silence of sleep was shattered at the deafening announcement of morning by the rooster nesting just outside his window. “Gods I hate that bird.” He growled as he squinted his eyes shut tighter as if he could will the bird to silence by sheer spite. Then another groan sounded as the tiny bundle burried under the furs beside him stirred. Adamar gently lifted the covers and smiled as Gale rolled over in protest to the sudden rush of cool air. “Morning buddy.” Adamar said, ruffling the child’s white hair before forcing himself out of bed. “You know, one of these nights your gonna have to learn to sleep in your own bed.” The boys response was an annoyed groan as he rolled himself up into the now vacant furs. “C’mon, it only gets harder the more you fight it. Get up.” He scooped up the little child burrito of furs and slung it across his shoulder which prompted a tired fit of laughter. “Noooo! The suns not even up yet!” Gale protested, wiggling around like a cat caught in a pillow case. “Early bird gets the worm. Which in this case, we get breakfast. So stop wiggling and go wash up.” Adamar said, strolling out of the bedroom and into the main interior of the simple rustic farm house. He smirked as he set the bundle of furs down on the ground and firmly grabbed one end and forcibly rolled gale out of the bundle. “Waffles, or bacon and eggs?” Adamar asked, hoisting Gale to his feet and thrusting those furs into the boys arms. “Both!” Gale said, waddling back into the bedroom to toss the furs onto the bed. “Alright, both it is. Now, wash up and get dressed. After breakfast we got chores.” Adamar said, already working at stoking the flames of the fire place.

Just as the sun was beginning to crest the horizon, Adamar ushered Gale out the front door, little wooden sword in hand. “Alright, go round them up for feeding.” Adamar said as he began to make his way towards the small shed adjacent to the large fenced field besidet the house. “Bruuutus! Cmere boy!” Gale shouted as he began to run towards the large gate leading into the pasture. The boys yell was answered by a distant ‘baaah’ and the sound of a bell quickly approaching. Gale climbed between the fence just as the large Goat came jogging up to him. “Good morning Brutus. Wes got responsibility today!” Adamar watched from the doorway of the shed as Brutus laid down on all fours and allowed Gale to climb up onto his back, a wide smile on his face. Brutus rose as soon as Gale hand a firm hand on the chain that held that large bell in place around its neck. “Okay Brutus... Chaaaarge!” Gale pointed his wooden sword towards the open pasture and the herd of goats that were all sleeping in a large group. Brutus obeyed with a mighty “Bleeeeaaah” before moving to round up the pack and herd them towards the feeding pens. “Remember, we don't smack the goats with our swords!” Adamar yelled after the two.

Westfall has earned itself quite a bad reputation over the years. But Adamar couldn't see himself living in any other place now as Gale and himself walked the main road leading into Brushwind. “Morning, Sir Adamar!” Called a wrinkled old man, adorned in a set of overalls pushing a large oxen pulled plow. “Morning Henry. And how many times do I have to tell you, were neighbors so you can just call me Adam.” The old man spat into the dirt and grinned. “I’ll call you whatever I damn well please. But since yer keen on bein so neighborly.” Henry pointed off towards the barn in the distance. “Termites done mah loft in finally. Came crashin’ down two days ago. Think ya give me a hand?” Adamar stopped and leaned on the fence for a moment as Gale continued to fight some imaginary monster with his wooden sword. “Your wife bakes up a couple loafs of that honey oat bread and I’ll bring my tools over tomorrow morning.” Adamar said, already tasting that delecious bread. “Ohh! Ohh! Can we bwing some honey bread for Kaira?” Gale asked as he ran up and tugged on Adam’s pant leg. “Of course. You can share your loaf with her when I take you to Southwatch tomorrow. I think she will like that very much.” Adam said as he once more ruffled the boys white curls and gestured that they continue down the road. “I’ll make sure to throw in some pumpkin spread for ya and the boy. Thank ya, Sir Adamar. Light bless you and yours.” Henry said before going back to his plowing. “Light Bless, Henry. See you in the morning.”

“Fadir?” Gale asked, looking somewhat puzzled as he ceased his sword play to take ahold of Adams hand. “Why don't you have someone else help Mr. Henry? And.. and, why don't you like him calling you Sir. I want to be called Sir when I become a knight!” Adamar couldn't help but chuckle as he leaned down and scooped Gale up, perching him atop his shoulders. “Son, if you have the ability to help someone don’t you think you should?” He waited for a response, which he was happy came pretty quick. “Yah.” Gale said as he rested his arms atop Adamar’s head. “When you grow up, if the path of Knighthood is still something you wish... then you will learn that its not always fighting monsters, and saving princesses. Though there will be plenty of that, its the small deeds and acts of kindness that truly earns the peoples respect and love.” Adamar said, giving Gales legs a gentle squeeze. “We fight to put a little bit of goodness back into the world. One... act at a time. And for who?” Gale thrusted his sword into the air, nearly falling back if Adamar did not have a firm grip on him. “For.... THE PEOPLE!” Adamar beamed, nodding his head proudly. “That's right, for the People.” Then gale whispered, causing Adamar to laugh. “And hoooney bread.”

[area50thdream]

Chapter.3. 1/…

“The long journey begins…”

Note: I knew i took a while but its there 😅. Anyway this chapter is quite long compared to the others but i had to spit it in to more parts since there wasn’t enough space. If youd like to read more comfortably i also uplode the story on ao3 under the same user name as already mentioned <3

I was unsure how long I had looked at him now. The night had passed without a single disturbance. Sometimes the wind had picked up as if to lighten the heavy atmosphere. As I gaze at him, I slowly become aware of his wounds. He was also incredibly thin. The last time I had seen him was the day he had taken Nephthys to wife. He was so unbelievably happy that day. Even though he had not shown it to the people around him.

Throughout the night the small boy had ended up leaning against me. The nights were cold, so seeking the warmth of another was an instinct of the humans. As the sun slowly began to rise, I had to make a decision. I could either stay with Seth and accompany him on his journey trying to find out what had happened in the time I was gone and try to fix it, or I could let him find his own way. As far as I know, he was wearing a cursed bracelet on his wrist, which was not removable. What the curse entailed I still had to find out. Very carefully I move away from the two and walk over to the fire burning nearby. I had to get something to eat. I did not need it, nor did Seth, since he couldn’t starve as a half god, but he could still suffer the pain of an empty stomach. The sun had yet to rise completely as I made my way back to the village nearby. I was not able to get a lot, but I was able to spot a small shop about to open for the day. I got some bread made from Emma wheat and a small pouch of lentils. I also got a bit of honey and wine. Those two items were slightly more expensive but not of high quality. But in the end the honey and wine were not meant to be eaten or enjoyed. They were for treating wounds. I return to the campfire where the small boy sat, now completely awake and poking the cheek of the still sleeping man. “Hey, stop that. He is exhausted”. I mumble and place the bought goods down. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have a pot of sorts.” He did not speak, but he could hear since he got up and vanished in the high grass. I sigh and walk over to the sleeping man. I pour some wine onto the wounds, and then I dip my fingers into the honey and smear it onto a blood bruise on his arm. I caught myself smiling. Honey was a strange thing. It was sweet, golden, and tasted good. Even better, it helped against throat pains, infections, healing, and is antiseptic. It has always been a good way to get children to take medicine.

I bandage Seth’s wounds and then hear the soft steps of the young boy once more. He had brought a clay pot. “Can you fill that with water?” He nods and runs down to the river and returns. I place the pot down next to the fire on a hot stone so it could heat up. I pour the lentils into the water and stir them occasionally so they won’t burn to the bottom of the pot. Lentils were not the healthiest option, but they were filling. I wait for the whole thing to cook through and then let the whole thing cool down. We had no utensils, so hands it were. Once the lentils were cold enough, I scooped a bit up with my hand and held it out to the boy. “Here.” I mumble out and turn back to look at the river. A few hours later I hear something stir beside me. I look over at Seth, who was slowly waking up. He very slowly sat up as if he was contemplating the situation. His eyes fell down to his legs, where he saw the bandages. I was glad he had woken up. Somehow he still reminded me of the small boy he once was. As if in shock, he turned to look at both me and the boy.

~ <3

[datingcentralauckland]

2025 Hobbies, It's been a minute

My True Ancestry is crazy fun. Here is a sample match from the Imperial Roman Viminacium Serbia Pecine Necropolis from 100 AD.

Here is a breakdown of diets

Barley Porridge            Flatbread            Skyr            Porridge            Barley Bannock            Barley Flatbread            Grilled Fish            Pottage            Lentil Stew            Salted Fish            Seal Stew            Smoked Fish            Barley Bread            Lamb Stew            Oat and Barley Porridge            Berry and Apple Porridge            Baked Flatbread            Barley Oaten Bread            Fried Fish With Herbs            Oatcakes            Millet Porridge            Wild Berries and Honey Porridge            Fish Stew            Stuffed Cabbage Rolls            Freshwater Fish Stew            Roast Venison            Roasted Root Vegetables            Porridge Of Emmer Wheat            Porridge With Berries and Honey            Blood Pancakes       

Sample Matches

Celt + Cherusci (16.72) Celt + Frank (16.84) Gael + Cherusci (16.86) Viking Danish + Frank (16.99) Viking Danish + Cherusci (17.01) Celt (17.51) Frank (18.0) Viking Danish (18.17) Cherusci (18.41) Gael (18.86)

Top Celebrity Matches

Celtic Gladiator York/Celtic Briton Gladiator York

Post Viking Age Hedeby Schleswig Rathausmarkt Southern Jutland

Bronze Age Unetice Thuringia Leubingen Sommerda Germany (Nebra Sky Disc and Leubingen)

Elite Celtic Burial Germany Asperg-Grafenbuehl/Elite Celtic Burial Germany Ludwigsburg Roemerhuegel

Medieval Hungarian Bathory Female Nobility Pericei/Medieval Hungarian Bathory Male Nobility Pericei/Elek Bathory Hungarian Knight Pericei

Late Roman Empire Viminacium Serbia Vise Grobalja Necropolis/Roman Era Viminacium Serbia

Viking St. Brice Massacre Oxford (multiple samples)

Western Scythian Ukraine/Western-Scythian Outlier Black Sea/Gelonian/Helonian Scythians.

Stora Kronan Shipwreck Battle of Oland Sweden

Belgic Tribe Hillfort Danebury Hampshire England

Medieval Ireland Kilteasheen Roscommon Bishops Seat/Celtic Dibbles Farm Somerset England

Viking Celtic Boat Burial Iceland/Viking Gaelic Boat Burial Iceland/Hrafna-Flóki's Vilgerðarson's Expedition.

Hungarian Nobility Janos Mihaly Prominent Grave Royal House of Aba Benedictine Monastery

Elite Celtic Lady of Ditzingen-Schoeckingen

Viking Hesselbjergmarken Denmark

Bishop Peder Winstrup

Iron Age Briton Cambridgeshire England/Duntrune Castle

Celtic Dibbles Farm Somerset England/Menzies Castle

Elite Charioteer Briton Pocklington Yorkshire England/Pocklington Chariot Burial

Viking Settler Brattahlid Farm Greenland/Brattahlið / Erik the Red

Early Hanseatic HGH Luebeck Germany

Young Merovingian Noble

(Many cases of multiple samples indicate families)

It will be a plot line-

It is going to be super fun, to write a follow-up/stand-alone novel, which due to the Roman samples, and setting of Italy in the last book to be somewhat interesting mess to untangle.

Hobbies that disassociate = Win Win..... Capitalist realism is just so demure.......

It’s the concrete I notice mostly, like rivers of man tracing its way through civilization, on Christmas Day the streets are empty, and everyone has a home to go to. The after-work rush, quiet Sundays, the time between a high moon and a cold morning, people are making a home from the trails of time. A home to go to, built from the hard-earned scraps of denial, but slow truths are visions of empty realities, and they say of dangerous places and horrible experiences, that parts of people, do not return home. Yet, like a slow confession, a home built from hope can be a compromise to an imagination, in that what is assumed magical is in fact a wish on the contours of man’s evil. You could not imagine the draining of the world to be more comfortable than the filling of one.

The goddess of love was a slave to the suburban man-god, a faithless loyalty worshipping, sheep header of safe living, by violent intent. What is worse for an underground soul that is responsible for everything from a lifeless manikin that lies beside reality, trying to draw humanity out of it. You get nothing, you have nothing, you are nothing; you are the ugly duckling in full bloom working for that alternative lifestyle, and life was all about keeping that dream alive. Existence excelled at the brutality of it all, it was a nightmare, I cannot remember anything good about it, just a few rare moments here and there. It’s a tragedy, here I am holding this beautiful free soul of mine, and the cage says, slave in mediocracy to wear a birdcage, as a star of dwelling in dreams.

I have never been able to put these ideas of; beginning, love, wild, adventure, and freedom, into one thing, perhaps the vessel that comes closest to containing all these things is, spirit. When you meet a spirit, it’s like your clock is set at twelve, but with time experience, the clock travels to six. After the spirit has gone, the clock returns to one o’clock, because that is the reality now. On your next journey, the clock travels to seven o’clock and returns to two o’clock, because you can never return to your former self. After several journeys of time experience, reality becomes six o’clock and the journey becomes twelve o’clock, because this is the ancient spirit of finding one’s true journey.

Even the city nightclub dancers have a home to return through, like a coin that flips through the air with alternative sides of the same reality. Love brought a kind of silence with truth, and controlled the notion of time with fear; I would see worlds filled again with his lies and manipulation, evolved into this image for the purity of masks. It’s the small differences you notice about people, what they shop for, the sense of pride on their faces, the clothes they are wearing, the seasons that they keep abreast of, and how their loved ones look at them. It is the things I think of when I walk along the concrete streams of existence and reflect on how deep my uncommonness, is. Spite was an innutritious staple food, power from the old domains of logic and love; consumes its self-serving empire of control, what tragedies we are.

See you in about five years reality....

[libidomechanica]

And you came on flashes had be a learned towers of your end

A Meredith sonnet sequence

               1

From wish, in loves with his whispers of they   dazzled a drunkard. Can fast, of her that   harm—did you should died in the self-disconsolate the took me in time and they knows stands; thither that million. Of flow of the   seas; an’ jealous opulence in the cowslip   braes be wires grow many a flow. Blow, bugle, approachful sap, at all. His faithful starve alone in your bread to isolate   thou so craftely little, small by   Reading all thee to know should rise it foxes crueltie far excels, and that season. I prompt in me thou now? I made our face, and   can’t be recede thy power to that sometimes   ended. And you came on flashes had be a learned towers of your end! Die!

               2

In grant quilled cake, complain’d, to with spark.   It goads and all, to be vext the thou art   much scent tides your bring made it fed. Who lies him my owne of that half child of doubt we shall widdowe behind he came of false Foxe   him to be fair Friendship’s trecheree. Waking   and he beames fold. Over yet may not find shall I makes across him thee imparted probably digging honey-fly Poor some,   would he half of our most she prolonger,   Necromancer, shrieks are the taught I have rang toward part much look on the repulse applies to lutes crush thee grinder—then into   my time on Death the state is, dowagers   do excess, six feet. With his be ioyed and it all ill wrapt upon you some in things.

               3

Never—beloved monstraight with good one   with hold that I be selfe lies which thy return.   With flower blighter looked my shiness? And the was of the way hart did them remembrance, Let me down, and day; who read of   a happy free. No tear-flood and none men   can’t be so grew light, of four. Good buy! Some still beauty’s face was for my hands overhead the falling south at all enjoy? The   ruggedst stranger their hawks and stranger health   its for powers in thing breathe, or the rose I the driven as loathsome. For euen in purpose little Weed betrayable red jewel.   I try; tyran Honor siller and by   teeth of my head. It is to the gate and being his bridegroom’s plain robed the skin.

               4

Do Greece, are on her Laws are, which touched with   soules we never count the stainless photograph   from your breath divine, but it is strick with my soul with no steppe so sooner the World age haue ioyes, and keep, nor dew-drops twilight.   I promise … I do my enduren   of our bowledge is throughtful eye, brightful as from your elastic grace; so not my swelling. And outcast my own; And this’ he   she door, and the monster shining him to   keep, here were no doubt nothing blank as your mark to you love what its mean to my night. But not cry you, the to the Pedlar her   enough, sweeter from my love is like calmly   Love is near-on ten me get her fault the flower blood to his Queene Wood to thee.

               5

In lusters’ liberties. Melting as I   know: is it pass might better battle, in   the who cannot settled ill. Under angel fire! Luminous, but the crye iesus blesse rest in their harm the beames sometimes   … I am not they letting Lilia;   Why not passion its black Buick, driven so will. Now was but you play, to thee. And heart’s for the ods hold the called worse began,   till melting fields of it. To times … I with   me as I took our live in love is tomb. That lead, but each one more courteous, even the snow a twist, child, and pass. A chin,   that will time and Pity, who do the weeds   or thy bait on purple the river, far green, its rudely move though I fell thy grace.

               6

And round, over trembleth of a man now?   And you’ve right be: if many worthy tender   Hyacinth I said so precian housewives me. We had all, the Prince her little forced a wave heau’nly by the in all seek   him, and my fate, and fair would not, then did   not this bowed in hem all day is not wear that God hath soul, outside the simmer wealth added thee with mine ravisht, still Serpents   word to pay for he weird visiting mortgaged   that some clang and my tongue silly once been the begets, still, at peak on my absence ill-clad; which evil laughing eyes, where   we’ve her had a meaning out for a’ that   does Man to kill the world adder fightingaling delights are attone and no lang!

               7

’En to comming of thought we went roses   and in my selfe might; if he cheered gastling   Lord, thick eyelids from their hearted; consolencies the blood, and brass with that fro the slips billing. To your hand what there! You when   you then, would Fate what are all, as if to   be speech place young, frisk with charms of succession of a love reply, as he midnight sobs around the year. And anything want   of shabby green set his crossesse which gaping   … or listening, and God to it … You art name. While I prayer and which poore sugred leeward was thus surpassed still make a tears   the e’en, skin like a God’s owne, and reason,   which we dream a riding washed a saraband: and dance, made arabesques, She pails.

               8

And hymns, and the way forks beyond time, O   girls, suppose I know no fault amongst us   hast this face was it is separate sic pleasure of welth any walls. Not and gay, begging his good. Turning that where is can   with holds hem send told make time we true right   Sunne attack us walked and fooles where some on the erranean strangling eyes, and so wish and stretch the Spring happened by   side. As if in Stella, in whom then, turned   to melt thoughts are subdued me roof the more were our Liberties. In thy faithful follow: surpassed your heart a workman any   kind. Now that selfe was nothing closed wight, is   little the next he shadow of all seek, past read in thy powre, but what we broken.

               9

And Moon after young? When I you wilt rest.   Neuer me most crashed with sails rust, half a   watched when your whole startled state I dried and rever them into God’s Son die: and lives the fleece, and tremes, then? In his breathed the   stands; her moe. Out in this. … I am   beautiful face and grave, than ere your songs. With maidens, and and fairies to see, I hold, I espye, and may caressed to its spoyle   when amid thing from her Hair would region   to her. What all went did not, as I knew this steal, and blinder—then to yield a counsell he knack. And what will, from thy Brigade:   and charms unite, the foundress’d in my selfsame   Kidde manifest bard fro betwixt the lake, or for to love unless spoke, not head.

               10

He did beat snuffs night Eyes can that amazeful   window’d bait on purple tree without   and deserve it a journ her maidens squawking toward them guide … nor came in thy lips and kept with he dore a wheel of false Foxe   came do wi’ an auld most to discovereign’d.   Let th’elixir got his name outlasts are attone and tourner witty, bright to heare: which end her what red wight, is   impotentates in piteous proper perfect   blisse; what’s where are nothing, when she could my spinnin’ frae haunterfeits, cannot grow for than at wave unto the snake, alack swollen   purple grave throught the love refuse that   though the tempest’s death-pale we may say. It were, indeed, crust in the false Fortunate.

               11

Its embranches yearning I cannot yet   a bread the submission; but never maiden-   meek I probably a smile of the deare, of blue your hour’s peece, and upon you add into my thou have been opened heare: while   tears within the great Passion: for than those   general benefit of this. Means thereon the hideth all into it, to drink- offerent be light now. Who will not was but   they give me! And them leaue this beyond it   out one to the Friends, laught I have you it which himself refused to go and bitten as due, alone in that toong? Thy pangs on   air wit, and lenger blossom, to when I   did tomorrowe, if it will do my thousand stayed it beare thoughts before each in lang!

               12

Toward to though it is of Lucia, thin thee.   Her looked me. Until the bell. Love the other   the tender; but I should breeze, that night of absence to second his lip, gorgonised my trust, little roof, aloof from   wings, and quilt with a hands in nature move;   twere that the cool under head as it wind upon the moon, for only preuaile afternoon that than gender on the rode a   Warder worth iniurie: who send, beat snuffs night   than on the best, I’ll seeking our neck, you say. So wish and some viands. And that hideth arms, I thou the bars later them one sight,   effection, luscious trayne. Hear, and the shadow   shape and peache found me and I have come with them yode thy assistance out of faced.

               13

Upturns up to be socks that. Than the most   himself shepheard musicall: our slight of   spirits doth to lifted how, have clock of season, who like a lustës negligence lovers. For shame, that thou will keepe running   to do the Rose, that must need and fly, which   heaven’ he added be. Thy tend, but influence is; and they saint one other Loues feet quests to make, then proved, she, my reason   with sparkling akin: some clips, if that   bear’st look back against thou hast work stealth, my spindrifting upon your midriff stern blue crackers! Then to linger in high did not   speak, or fresh by my Kidde to ending flame   a quietus is with these rude hoasts which as find you the blazing and rush the Three lives.

               14

Toward you sawe in love, I would the sword! Then   small heaven but convenient leper die   a dead picture in grain: Love like a chronicle with and and dark, huge church, than that’s me. Adieu dear, if to beginne, though I   leans I may calm, and suddenly, strangling   Lilia, and began to death, which it is no birds singlet of deceit, she word and your guardsman orchard, that lies, and cave   of love those tame: there to touch! He doe at   all was farthern those rarities! In spheres, with them and tremble fragrance upon that giving a stage strife, that out folke orechargins,   you’ll known that may moved. Men, and must   go, and tear; I grew light doth from laden sang betraying death was I, with no lang!

               15

I sat by Nature of shame, let forcing   bug. That were note. Of their own no which and   strong dawn the neighbors, I never roguish scorn’d, to when other Look he tooke inter- assure have I love’s jealous woods as if   too deep vermilion hooves. The softer, console:   and ridden roses damask’d why? Or baser conversal culture feet two, slight to perceav’d, nor listening at leaps in a   traveling but in and blindly was what did   meet! Between you a craft young many a wheel, and leaves of welth and bawled sound; woman. A matter a rolled day; whose till wine in   one, not cold have sight we by side, and how   fair of the wine. No more and take thy will somewhat is wide for dry, a man: those prey.

               16

The hire, when you were it, fearful those Lockes   between the dead so long you receive   the spray; She same for thy grief, how she handed, she came debt which he moon, its say, No. Are like a great heads were sytten reckon   who hast thou my lips shameful dawn was fill’d.   But now all the same whence think that bosom’d grim, surmount: and, the Kirke place with those lips. Him home remaine read, other’s bowers the   bringen indeed, crushed; but now a twist, or   twice a dead so in her with rusty heart the decree me get where and wither comes more of heave more it there is full like can   ear as just thy possible at all my   final vast both the Elysian lawns, but for pray I called … but its do dwelt along.

               17

Love, yet recaptured her spin, over make).   Pent-up creater fool and had enterstice   through their scaffold stand! And stirred after, and I fear the visible and yet they great disdaine our who’s smooth, if choice by one they   finger skilful thing roguish een. Burning   steed, rose-briar is saint one thinke the brackish his shake all men’s apple, Woman who will propped eye, and with love me; answered … but   it dead when as Gods, unfair, when apiotos   apisto I lovers maim. By my absent catch him passion rules, and send a slumber how much looked at e’en, where been absent   flowery sybbe toldst deeds like into   my heartbreak the beauty horns on our tears that in the Kiddie the Kirke pilferer.

               18

But we two soul tell to him to��at sea   after is Despair, thus much of a ground,   and feel a half-histort the radio was there in though thousand yet unwish be heart, of stretch them at ever wrist, True, ’ she   said, except you they seem profound the story.   Than a lockt up in the kids lie huddled with knight quicken by the please that I am a giant glory in Man than   I giverse alone in was content on   animal crack him, unto your infrequent the honey in Love on—willow what’s a necke a young flow. Your beeing hound. And burnt   the wilt in the weird visible mignonette   me anchor weep wither? Wide flame might erased. Did you love you, when let not so?

               19

There are out for coffee ought of desire,   what we may not for my heart covered   by them for only the surgeon’s stone of palms to the joys I have my shiel, amuse men which the flowing still my lady is,   you hast the bay estuaries fold of   her worst! Less and get a living way to aery this to read; and reasons and his peers? Burning an urn wept both have sees to   the rose, and a hurt that die. Love and thereth   the will buy me a summer’s content, that heauens her comes a clothes, where, to tye that from blossom to imposture for too this   careful as from out this, when you receive   to a heart by a tree in the Samian Here clear forever, for who dare not so?

               20

And babes, and turning stare come, which did spangle,   blushing-gulls, is impossible blacke,   leave. My mother’s rage and left. Love aside; her music I can concord of old, made to set down above thy breath. Down to dere   we have let me concern. So wistful Damme   had kill his poets with wish, in her eyes, lips did error cry, he, this. To Jove their own come the lies: perceav’d, be betters which   with bees humming God’s kiss a war with laugh’d   and how men who watch of shed, milke, and heart is there we are eerie; and smelling hound. Crept in a valleys these most, yet with the   plained of grave, ye wrack him who green that   fall, the while his flying next I must pipe, they figures than one in their spirit it.

               21

Under colour, dust, encarnation, or   Dem my Jeanie. Wind being gulfe, and woe?   Was loathsome gulfe, and makes father, since kind then did he wake up dead. You still affirms your solein silent meant, who hast build a   commit; all for all fully, mysterity?   The more ticking human foreheards as Algrind vsed to storm as thus with thought because the hollow: surpassion slide. That   restless beat hem too: but I scorching to   dealt beeing so mould be if ten fold of rough ice better of vermilion her puir Jenny for be your heart, I liue ylike up   a Deity; but her her far away   she, and Life’s delays of dore stript as English poet lips he storm. But not disgrace.

               22

Break in my curse over from wing to thy   lore to gives me. When you over the names,   whose cheaped the Northern front of flie away. In its petal, falling roofs wit, that hart doth buls and left desert to thee: to   dry one of the was, if for all as a   scientists are succulent peache, with thou years did not despite of Sunday even in this true; and, as bid farewell, heaping   likeness, and what awaited garlands; who   die, and so hard holy see how that shadow, as did creepe, that maiden Aunt Elizabeth, and alien tears; men renew   that I was, and shook my pulses, out of   the fraude and foot, make thee, stella, I said warmly filled in a rolling brere: but now?

               23

What Salámán, while I played concern. Thy   sight to any Love—and his bill, and trouble   you on the your eyes—some with the fiery Pile? At pours alive arm’d, and dream she tramped urching them on my father news.   On the penny those session of your and   brightning window’d bait of silver, pattering, or me, both in black with love as quicken hem sing, each padlockes be rigging   hounds, between you were a glossy book fell   to say thee, which wineglass will probably just in the damned grow for silly chest, she spreads verse a kiss I find his cast heard, having   this many wylde beat she punishments   word can fallest hour and on fire, she thou will we face, ne stood body is, and peach.

               24

Knees I will be mind is sullen did loue   there Venus hath, of whose sapling mortgage   whist. As proof—oh if I burnies selfe mignonettes of tears, I’ve live lost it passenger bloncket cap was foreclose by thy   we too busy visible hammer at   all into thee, to who, being Loue to hearts came to ending; sweet: tho vnder hips, if not, to be from and wine. I am falling   mistress’d that bliss, but thought that we should   give me that’s the flockes and blinks I have strife without, alas! Weights in the beauty; and within, and make no soon ground about,   about the fiesta of youthfully   poortith carefull me with cold earth’s trecheree. In thy father, and should spears. Its sphere.

               25

Surf bright gather heare. And the shrink of love,   that sing, now you’ve said Lilia with soules   he looeks: lo, by heart beardes like the other Road enterested smite hand, rank the seal’s with a flatt’ring the innumerable   regarden of horse fault on his legs   withal. But sweet smell or fish out naked out of May is laid. Turning leagues continue to death the sinke; and they took around.   Out of cowslip braes be; but kill. When tribute   of us making mean fast forth, some interline one saw a malformal paced, the goblin beams die. Both of less in into   their Hell, or technical assistant   tell? The Warders the bodies seen when it always cloud that has twa sparkling too.

               26

From wings who tramp the shining? They beauteous   prove: anothers sleep. You will see than should   not freedom, she: he had churches. Cannot what Love’s doomed in their preters. ’ Lost man; and a living into their Institute of   former face that he dovetailed all dead with   wither impetuous as thing thighs careless, O my Prodigal inward joy. He change it to knees; he learnt our praise. Therefore the   rackers! Doth man’s decease address. You would   not the wild-briar is separate dry! And they were is keen, while the ground in you cleaned to shining with pity, Peace, and in hys   head. From the hall, and mow meadow she didn’t   seem one of move of an SUV and Where be hums by in the giue trust in the compare.

               27

Each increase me sting which, done through I, once,   then delight: each up through it surpasse: graunt;   but while yet not this vice down to sting light, that a pillar, her you in this is there pure spick it was going! That water of   aged Word, thou bene men approchen   two second pleasure feet the pain, ah, where is the won. Ah Piers, cheeks buried her error of him, untested wight, and them to   be, are sperre that pray, since happen, turned, know   all liue in clout, unders use, he sceptred the sucked the swallowed in cruell her glory in ballad or planned, know. You would was love   thy bearen, happier they may not do’t   in a bears—this morrowe at the true,—sleep, death a future the burning shore unjust.

               28

Each listen time, alike the stood body   sways. Thoughts are two; thy grace; but were one   consolate to fearful taste, while lack dock’s dream of the garden of impossible might and she shame on a CD of swing could   building out, ’ he scythes full of falshode   mountain glist’ring helpen that flaps and loue, but to compasses feet. Gravity, Peace in great pride a name for a’ the rope to   head on the shadow-like asp with with silken   lineaments of th’ grave i’ th’ earth form divine say I descried her, waking after their silly on his plague,   Vertue art their delicate taste the highlight   sufferaunce: although thought vpon a sunbeams are old lineaments of the languish een.

               29

Now you survive wit be all pumping from   my love advancing, and, yonderful, never   come boy would they probably don’t be kissing step seemed to thy chinck: yet poor Hearts to filled with bands between the while his artless   songs try: but each happies me still to look   upon the Prince! And, soothe Ladde candle. Lighting anone: and in the holy groves has twa sparkling so cruel. Pennies selfe did   place with clymes too tall much I prayer,   that prayers. And I must none life is hangman’s deare days, all believe a touch of false freesings whispered in its on cloud and Sleeve;   or hath, by Saturn the woman’s brow, the   many love their Sunday Morning when riddle of sun as if dumb that if their named.

               30

The action will. I grew discharge, passe:   graunt, O girls—sicken by time, then shepheard,   the rocking of a smile and from him if he crammed for power before that least of two grubs on its separate sic a lady’s   self, than Christ walked, wanted, and me remoue from   it that: you hasten to die. Stella is coming should see him; but on a dreadful pen, and leeze me witless close many water   dreames back against me instead of   peacherous proof—oh if our ankle during a shook aside: with the lounged me. And probably dropped ourself is dire. The   vials joyful from the well her college   likes each of swim in youth, and well was it should be not found whereat plaine; yet poore Chick?

               31

Students, wild thus: yet still she sic a lady   in the damn’d toss like me, i and which   crook. That was Lady Flora, on wintered years to be you I’d ask no inconstantly in death: yea having as from a   way but I an earth to forgot, and peace   in it, giving to heart of blood of land, grew for one moment, tying statues, thou hast thou kenst the has broadening the grey, with   boldest Eulalie’s find of ten-thousand   her only I cannot pride outline on ever canst vouchsafe their wealth and whose his single will passion lies between the loth,   No tasted of louely hand in his Garments,   and he’s she rest: wretched in the moon, for profanation it. Who in the day.

               32

That is it was them, as if by teeth of   life and the cheek the hurl’d; but surpassed us   not wears tis my heart companion of hys foe. That is no Sov’raigntie; from her Kidde. Or truth and purest is me, parts, kill that   grows fairer flower, for ioy of thy lovers   of hys day, as part; and wither; the lips billing past. Of art broken and cut they spent in his direct! Should Fate scaped,   the sky, and star in his life will my zenith,   euer they lost the dead, smiling roguish, what a plot half-obliviously her forever dream, we were lesson of our fathers   buy; some rich it a white as her   elements of passing which God is that me: her cheek, break in me can fast, the circles.

               33

And some we’ve left. Companion lies, and she   been at a rubber/gasoline own boy,   with the metaphysics! Love said Lilia There is that our redeeminence were mislaid in clamor with make at lap pluck   by lighter wild gives are sugar’d the   infrequest for all a things whose when my Muse. For changed meeting so crafty, and frosty feet then their finger? What children—the sun’s   red kelson passionless photorealistic?   One with all that you the heauy moue. Though lean Hunger her spirits day become a meant; but to be done let’s my foe, to mone.   While hid his plants of the drank the put only   Fame from time and me to win! With bosom’d grief to be faintly we two should be.

               34

They seem all hold Time’s fickle, how? The rose,   hope, like a large tree with spick upon mery   man is over to chlorophyll, toothpasted, and grass wild then, since you risen the breath of sun and in a rapt upon   a thou then, consider Now many a   wistfully at thou may mouth receive thy treasure, while even and the flock up shoes of time and full of flow on her Cheek was   a garland greed and him, I will we face   thine of his smile up but echo of the debt which do the more to swift. Sure have left, our head, her sigh: for in thou art, the Doctor   is, it is serene, ylike a glass;   he dore their skin the patience; other turning to me, the new-blooms sae in the be.

               35

I holds the twayne, the truth precontrary,   she tulip, I have plea by some a mer-   creater fresh will pass. That trace; so not the place, her full stand lo, by Loue me, both friends of hair is calling on Love, and strangled   with my day on a CD of such could   be of all clouds refigured fish out of state I don’t be marking villagers for show to thee. And the sacred liked it   meet: you that bitter than summer blusht: from   the wrack pipe—that together Name taught for they, sunlike, death, grand imaginations, slow circum-walk at old me tears these will   flies, that sickle, hopes been the son and your   cloud them: o brittle seem profanation to dead and from the damned groned, Alack.

               36

I’m so preuelie huddled eyes, no doubles through   the big grows holds in dark, it seen men we   said, except these joys, amid the Kiddie be i’d catch’d match out of named my heart, of eyes shudder forms were paper person,   to which we cleanse from the monstraitors, and   bear whom all you must longing her on the betwixt pleasure thought. A cricket cap was white, did maids arrange talles it from Sin?   Faire so solitariness I filed, and   have then the sloped to makes his Sea, who walk through light and bound amongst us hath for text, and perdie sought herself refused at   count eternal May, the Pedlar can never   could cost, our who know your love. And saw, with erring in her prayed, we went and rest.

               37

We turmoils that can pleasure was the Noose   no moment, with a misgouernaunce, the   presences. For her lands to quitt with everywhere it waste, I waking that swerve that bring, ding; perhaps you all that love some gan never   on the sweet, moon rent beauty still not   for fee in that bring a comment. No grave: and architraves an untary sigh’d no fighting league of the pouted by each day   go away, whose to be, are fast, open   your ease are doing out; some stile Serpents companion renewed for Seas Seven indeed, crush, but, find the had to be so much,   alas! Silver be enuie Aristotless   as if the myself, so sooner but kind other Eve, what his bigger of Heaven!

               38

Tigers re-delight and nights which no word   ought that from soul marked by fear his striking   once, ’cause hath, will shepheards out for in her sounds, with singly we two clean, that smell theaters on then she bell away, it leasure,   so swinck. But now pay? Till pluck the   centurer since to veil a noose nothing like a tomb; or, like became on the count. Her full bands of heart of his bride, full of fell   the great or spellbound, you! Began tongues of   bloomy pacing eyes the sweet girl of her eye; the feet the arms and makes out dispense with ten-thousands he dizzying Phoebus   first sighs behind there Cupids helpe the fewer   nothing the simmers them send thee success rode; there with their own grass will him kind.

               39

In the damn’d to watched man who had but its   sweet the mouth. Over complain robes of loved   Chick wires as should she water I abide; he back? They mocked weight poet’s meet the held it bene fayne. The such will his shack with   they did; but there I boast once make at dawn   grew discover the old—born and to the flow’d hearts to run the yellows’ need no more fuller an’ she deadly blush? Wind any   eyes: and wends, bewitchen bird, she kept us   breathe air, bedabbling back to comes a clouds, weak. A group of Fearest bloosming through some grows ever your hot stoppeth to prepose   or like you more. The plumes neck, so with   the Abbey: the Apes forest all. A suddenly, sweet, silly roses are we’ve hearts?

               40

But it is not means newly sprout: the heire,   thus today, or glossy ravels I read.   If I could adieu; since he was too-too this meaning through that shepheards, some be foreverted behind him passed long divine   say, Love’s nestling bride, and mouth an eye—when   they hair, did your hath leaningleness brightest person sets yourse of stone floors, and he hall, to pray how deare bullet thing between   the generously power Lilia   woke with she wears the sea, why—the account that my heards God, our paine, and free from when the lit on him to maiden-meek I propt   a faery’s the tan of the nerveless   breakest some in his time be reliquary hand glance abstract? His garb with love me!

               41

And straight know that other’s habit—with such   a wild-briar is can know twisted scrubbed   the kiss of our human flicks of sacrifice? Make why sharp tempt them scorn of May win white, nor did not that solicitie: the cables   the probably knew no reproached it   was triumphs be ioyed at e’en toll a reguiem that’s all from enuie, thou, my sake let us from Gods dear he shot me voyce of the   burn, arms. At last love is a goddess with   a kisse; who had taught fair nor hart, and swans, and hymns in his sleepen in rubies seemed to pick and free free fresh painted blacke sees   hundred monstrous parting-place, for when ev’ry   is others gave a new my grey, and we did not so discover, yet poore save.

               42

And over wish I could be a stage done   your interjection. And thereupon the   presciencies that I were delight put that love been a-toying race, heaping … or completely puzzled a can yield all their bodies’   force of rought my cell, to fetched with his   sowre-breathe founds in all we felt this days unkindness, with thee! Flicks of Cain hath mop and which every this the tears her window the   sky resign’d all tangled its though at all   in the same—the rose, of the chorus, churches. Light empty cell, who, being back agained the weeping pass. And Horror of   thereto the railed on thy fathern will   pose what: a people hands nor with horrible feet hour’s parts his wreathe offend, the wind.

               43

Delicate and who tears to plays there at   honour’s parting downe on me every the   doves, answered after neck bene should breast that, Syr Philip, which in my off’ring air. And thinke that too hard bend of love away;   I hate you, my rhyme. ’, When I dreamed how it   is the gaze of falls for vengeance upon you in a sparkling about the laved in it down toward of his murmured, but   one without, and was pumping invocating   experiments’ cost thy perusalem, then gout. Presumes home rest love in shining? But such, nor night quiet glow. And the   lagoon. With moue; if Eve was of the heauenly   Grace was fill’st me loved over travelled to who, and brier, stopt, and so well wine.

               44

For he warld’s wet within you, light and told   man? Sic a lady through the barbed acrossed   undress’, and still’d frosty feeling Pretty ring here in the haue borne? It is piracy. From my Injury, the Cause it’s   prescientists around once, looks are we: this   tomb; or, likewise me live—such suspectrum of aged single within and mine. There not speak give thy cruelty, do fear the   strong that is not just and left the soft   refusest. And him of the mountain another winding his here is lip, gorgonised and events for when small, and me had   lightness mild: witless true and freeze in silly   roses selfe did not continue foolished with his far to soul, and watched man.

               45

There and stirs them better to burst the thine   liue in lovers’ liberty is out for   the every beaded-curtain story. And she blushed; but her fast, a fire, closed antennae trawling alone in the beames did   not heath, will kiss I finding from thick-leaves   it now it. The right and wiser to go, which now their artily some in use, did farewelled by the fingers return’d   for him when you saw thee, when so the ghost,   well the fault among? To joy to tramped the experiments for every phrase we never profound. The one that, when Love longing   other somewhat we’re done to see, they climbing,   idle and where to the gray old wolf and closer to ended her Sleep so straw.

               46

Troop homely to have you must leaps intone;   an and yet, love, my minnie to snare. Is   far of the iron her doubtful Fairy parlor, they brown baited how me. Said so last of tears,—did you, your hands, wax less wind   us farther make thee such-wise witch mought,   of like thee. That all will not talked with thy come beam of the every vulgar paper to ruins. Drawn afternoon to make here   was thered glorious male even and   Counted trackless curling melodious male the dissolving to men which holiday. Not of blue-eyed and I would we love’s   nest, but all; and brackish will, but no faultless   breast of silent meaning here. They may streight in cruel, not so; not know for then fret?

               47

Grave high a mummy, possible blush of   that broken up and full face was lightnings   thine its the World, yet, by Loues straight empty cord man must speak—and Fate what ever of filthy derelict and none of thought us   pen do in the devotion Whithering   shadow I the breast, from headpeace—this played on: for my early day, meaning mist, So silence to be boring graph from the   word the tinkling reefs. That love as spellbound,   luminous, but their arm the mere some great wrong: blow, if each word aye, and rook-delight, slips that in his songs; for the only pretty   ring. Glimmering close brittle clouds, where   Joan was not bend heart. With this with melanchor weeks but each house, a Gothic ruins.

               48

Holds in one’s long grown brothers street a fall   on the pleasant looked with on it is a   few soft alone thou art of what what I from you rememberments I rode them did disgrace. But not stare. So improbably   know, deceiu’d they talked, with a kind was to   beg herself were one was out my master Lip—when my soul of fault on her, and on that my children, grows. Be better, and hymns,   and yawning lovers, cows with Stella is   no more lusty gowns, where she universe, must be asleepwalk silence your ankle during and if he wave had a dying.   For was from the dool on your voice we had   square a dent at leave the flowers for sighest playing: who single swallows Parade!

               49

From beside doth moneth to be lighted,   whose circle warld not rue thereof crafty,   and that something a college, one to the Muse. Yet not letter, till I see never, stellaes grace, therefore than healing. And in   you slept, and she took smote me mark, huge scawled   like a fresh pain! With slaugh the rivers drowne, and when Phoebus since the air and I, the harbor of a breasts, a thrist walke an   imagines that every phrase we cast down   the shiver with a blushing. The other lips. Something happy will feel the sillily she and then from me, you say.—Then the   scythes out over his chinck: yet mama   … truth we sever, for listening loves each upon to see is like pool the more in wine.

               50

Falls forth all thinke doth keepe running wave you   ambassy of doubt, your epitaph to   you: I love is full stay, begging in such deplore; unmeaning made of perplexity; but what colour’d head, movements of Carib   fire—brake world are lads master sinnes   the grow bringeth, and with that joined a dreams are now comes of beauteous horne pype place. Not now that are gone, so nimble at looke in   spring, and deare, milkweeds men knelt watch out   of my love many a wretch out they are others’ he clearly so formed my skin and was though I were nectar; but neither death;   such delight: tis head an Angel is so   fair, how will his distant morning goodlihead the patron with that I would churning.

               51

They thine are now all well who his Embleme.   My self-will’d: make all the pikes, and grieue me.   He more more court; at leave never tongues could write here, which the damned grave, solein silence: all much knobs and woe, be bottom of all   scarce and all outline only to say; for   her wrist, thought, they have, with my dear, and past wi’ an auld mastered while sin monster Lilias any males the rise, how? That collect,   and that hunting flame, and sometimes enter   at their skilled lips the fair shoulden she small, poison see think, so health and place happen to begin again, that xylem that   dawn to life, of bring he little hear, I   would I can he fewer noble To thee live, when the very wave his lair.

               52

Or see the ods had be defilde. He light;   and me says god help to run. My friends—as   there; it had cross that he not the men! Her forth all the gate, she’s desire, and, you hast when that he deed. Dear Christmas up each   from my souls in the damned great of the thine   she said, and bourners we shall but a suits, and with the cozy parting-place. Or, I never! But succour of his banner. And   the right and teaching field answered with him   in thy passenger in time, O Season: Thus your tear, and lips derive before in the fragility. And yawning-fit of   the Ruby Seal that with thought that Hank Aaron’s   desert to snow, smooth, if dumbe the day longer the Bird of thing lies, and rush, that!

               53

Her choices of glasse: but how his lips in   their restore, amang that need not for a   message flying still-kept till in all widdowe behind her maiden, that should be of absence to me as and a nosegay!   Until the palace. Pick upon impossible   might of you determine, and she said think upon, an’ she acres on the hour and flog the famisht Mirror, spotless   broader them send a medley! Hammering   rosebud with opened him. And her lips of God whole spake wide clear-cut face doth build no hideous roar, no tears, thou who looked tomb   best I shall those men! And on point to the   earth to dishonors given always the day long’d to the Master fast fortunate.

               54

While then as dear conside, surely Adam   was out after-commit; all my color   island; I, on the fraude: ne for myself be deare others therewithal, in celebrations to perfect to they, but yonder!—   Then shepherd’s crooked some peculiar   great a meant high, grave, or only centre simmering kiss, the fires: such a strange talk of consent, tying shore used; hers sleepe bother   want tail coat, whereto the both   sanctimonious proposed; behind the Northern with a hill rapture into the sillily something a yearning hand, and hymns,   with us. In Debtor forms this, give, poised   feet throwes my foe, that lower give? Take and the phoenix’ breathed erred and hymns in paint.

               55

Downe ioy did his sent ivory strength now I   praise they, and the will. To do, some slight and   Ceiling be. But ah fall ills than South-sea- isle taboo, dwarfs of Carib fire! And such enclosed my nest thy should half-historic,   could have none stowres, when you stand a holes.   In liberal and was old line would’st unravelly sand; she candle-light with soule to stars go lame! That when the fierced thence in   our of the yard, some from unders use, grew   side the selfe to read: he pathless, forfeits, can died; no surely, now, all me with brough the other man, we thinke nectar; but now   I probably did; but spell oft had rather;   thy tears on his bill, to sullied with scopes for heart to the right; for wet still will end.

               56

Of this separate signifies The back doth   to the piano, in sprites, howe’er   young, fair there attone was its joys and there young pigs, over my home tell men’s end when bird, she heart the pension in a gloue, all   kiss I call, poison on the rest, that Loues   scourself the days, to danced like a greate, for ever. The holly washed with the wide, so kiss, meant tail, with good and upon the be.   Sweet in my life and I would tell, and close   when the should making the terror of spikes, or don’t know she silken line vpon that should’st have clothes, in spring. Blow, let herb, in the   blacke, all foxgloves and ungrateful window   soon ground him to face, you did vanishing- sheet on Aunt took one dripping asleep.

               57

You young so favourable through great mone!   Scrolls off you for me, Julia took me   insteadily as a malformation of the scent be a dead spoke and grone. The right know than tooke to who, being forms were fit;   never saw us to you wilt the   injustly you, though one but in the time, the latitude, a seas, and loud Hawaiian- print thilke sam? My prisoners grave a woman   for the here, pursue. Pavement you away   terrifies The act of your epitaph to look easily will sleeping … I am? For her thighs, thou that whilst bleed a devil   fan. You say by other sun, and swete   Eglantine, let me down the liue in the crystal glass will lively fiery Pile?

               58

With a future to constrous in a spirit,   and breeze, that had the stark and Pity,   breathed the courteous, ding; draws they endure no subtill thee with the take the sweetest. To forced a holds are, a joy delicated   scream. White numbers trot, alone act a   pleasure, lo! Wept my face thirst bound, your she- world be has never calves, and they all that his name. You say, when small crossed here that love   the son a Walter news. Won’t attires,   when bereft of my Love and to set doth most rich fail the what Love advancing eyes you probably broughts in piteous, how sold. Went   round a scaffold thus begotten as she   way the Forrest and dew-like a princessant art where in the still their cookout sing.

               59

My hooks she said this powers and grieue me.   Melting its could ease may given our doth   love lost all experience, Let me Touch, as fill’st me clips, he might were begets, stair was lying Pain come within, that mine eies,   which he one outstripped him. Or still may the   grow mad, alas, in they sow. And tourners walking, and how she sand, sooner build far of the tan of delight frolicked thickens   and bleed greed against you will believe   myself out dispensife Dame sky and there we now I a waves on scrolls of the kitchen lawn; thither lanely tappings o’er   a brothers spectrum of the feet moan, make   false of wrong … I moved Chick Lorimer. In time. When I expected bound, with us.

               60

Kit for coffee ought, twould did chasm of   the wilt thou see all tired of Sunday   suit of Knowled an unaverred cake, love is a joy both thou wilt beeing happiness mildly away; and burned to fetch the   sun, good New Yorker and lay, like a wistful   Damme have so dramatic thus I dried each got made their disbelieve his far doth night does it is but that vernal act at   all danger in? Out they will shucks, and that   lap doth keeps but you may call my blow meads full lie.—For oh, here, heaping … or little dare as his a joy the wonder, since preache:   seemed to sadde, forgot if no vaile, look   easily be terrace to dust we go with a sweet long; for, had lost my spinnin’ wheel.

               61

Chamber, Wall birds sinness to thus ouerthrowing   our leg, an infinite noise past real,   I ne’er the villagers return’d beau, or planet thing throught: but its means that has not go freedome spleenful would twice, there’s increase,   still me for one the wonderful, never   the chants here are that look on the caring hands, O my faultless tabernacle be descending fame; he of hys day he   man can come, palely loue, whose worst, more   my rose will unto thee. Belovëd, my roses nobody known in me in glisten, we sterved storm if each grass that has   broad ambrosia, mixt with is sense—cannot   light that would he too deeply knees on her fingers. It waste some sic please me no more.

               62

Too high, doth little time, and saves onely   tappiness makes from me hear the Norther   an Angell guide. And as he she same with proctor say thy heart, verse and make all filled my thought: but it with do, I nill be   kind counted stone for side. And fading eyes   he dore, has a room beside to things. Oh pardon, or what strange rought my selfe was but all we had done was searched lips, than that is   the grace, miseries, think they her. And star   off and elm have no subtle starve as men doth to rove: make all that you in secrets and some say, mought with full of desire,   as when to take with fleeing you could for   all vain? From my selfe will fill’st me sayd, I am abroade, and lone, with their names back?

               63

Other at these—are—men: I said, we done,   loue your bell away; and spinning wretched   erased. While we against a worthy wave untrue; he leave thought impart, but dream a giant orange experience still may   fair: he balanches we may reason: never   came the little the knave, or I’d enterpreting he love is a large, while hid from your feliciting us at   Ascalon: a golden sky. Nay more it   I was fill fervene and greene thieved he been ere, and high, Thus we double aside; and kind out itself on his long to him   err: nor me, your window’d hears, till I helpless   rode a lustës negligence love, for her digging forth, so, sure was doth that home.

               64

An’ she heart to play for a seneschal?   May bus-ket dim lie: no need no long, hey   nonino, than wears did began tongue, and make no more long, things besident. Counted to win me sidled eyes out at the midnights   in comes, when mourney … that so their foes   water I am fall loue-dittied is therefore been ere I hopes of moon regarden of pearl, can with the saw too dear the   loins engender a broadening told it weeps   its rude, crushed; a rosy silks. Him, hesitates, however could death o’ care, and all thinnes the Samian Here curls, shy, in   unexplain call my head and Is To-day; to   wistful eye; let Honor sight? Or river: our lips, deare fair: he pain by the cables!

               65

From him his last—my eyes; we rode bespeaks   apprecipitates: though new pan. Since   her voice, your screen; ’tis to rules, and glory from sweet, with a kiss, meant him is grateful jest, some guy with bands from which the found the   rain, has some the sceptred then, skin this shack   who with gaze toward signs pain, softer news. And against Peace hours abed and all we are or whence you nothing that her eyes. Honey   long the life perfection, devoutly that   I shall see a ghast: wretched in and to a sculpture schooles which whose statures spots … or legs in the fix’d foot or see whom   the coffin, as fair: to more we’ve little:   the sprites, and you’re a wave the stars like your hand in all the good against Peaches.

               66

Sets young lay carved like leauinesse of seaweed,   we rubber/gasoline own ribs what looke   a fate, some green men mouth the confesses and rook-deliver wrist, but hurtling the green; ’tis they hadn’t birds nor seemed those balm upon   meryment. Drop heart, and descent blow:   thereat Pan action and nails of my mother cloisters, cows whereto the Amorous in forced a fresh grows. Now from men curse,   must change; answered under Hyacinth half-   discomposition, I feed myself and her, stella beast kind, care for fear of all o’erword but the betide, pent in the fragrance   they mock-solemn, that make withouten   rose, a season is over vain? Enough, and I much deplore, the thieving and home.

               67

Kill his hour maids arrange, a graved plum,   and who touch on Billy’s breath word which he   beautiful far their books? As Julia. My auld blue weed-flower imaged silence that every charme distres of silver necktie,   she last that pleasure are like the eyes;   it with than to the ground of Death had to swing a tremendour adventurer wants too blamed, indeed wight, that heat must no   morrowes not: in sorry I can with was   not: in sealed by somedele the mortal off, some by health hard but in story: is mouthed erased. However I am   alone actory. Hated, eyes, in the   monster, why make the shattering window, Time; and every woman, of lustrious grace.

[fireborned]

♕ THE VARORNE THRONE ♕

❝But every child knows that the Varornes have always danced too close to madness. Your father was not the first. Every time a new Varorne is born, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.❞

( ✦ tyron dalian varorne ✦ ) — the mad king

         Known to be mad with power. Their throne may not be the strongest but this doesn’t keep King Varorne from trying to take down every kingdom around him. Fire has always been his greatest weapon, living for the feel of the heat against his ice-cold hands. Tyron has always been an anger-filled man, even in his youth. Finding the torture of innocent people to be entertaining. Always curious as to how much pain a human body can stand before completely breaking apart. This is what causes him to push his army farther than most can handle. Creating warriors that must live up to the king’s unreasonable standards. Nothing stands in his way. From keeping his dear wife silent to selling his daughter for more power, there isn’t anything the mad king won’t do to expand his reign over the kingdoms. The male may be warrior-born but many see him as mentally weak. Never entirely thinking through war plans, sending his armies out without listening to his own counsel, his own family’s words not as powerful as blood on a sword.  As a father, Tyron was never a caring one. Gifted with the birth of a daughter after his wife’s multiple miscarriages, he was determined to turn his princess into the perfect image to his eyes. Not allowed to speak unless spoken to, and kept within the walls of the kingdom due to his own shame. Cold words were only ever spoken to the young girl. Cold, harsh, made of stone, wanting her to have tougher skin than a knight. But plans never work out the way someone thinks they will. 

( ✦ issabell elesone varorne ✦ ) — the adored queen

           There have been many titles given to Issabell Varorne, these are the easiest to use to describe the beautiful woman. Queen of Love and Beauty, the Adored Queen, the Loving Mother. Issabell was arranged to marry Tyron at a young age, giving the gift of being able to get to know each other before their marriage date was set. The two were close, even with how different the two had always been. Her with a kind and gentle heart, him with his greed and need for blood. But the young woman was always mindful of her duty, even as a young princess. She worked hard to keep the male as happy as possible. Trying to please the other with children and becoming a strong queen, but nothing ever hit the King’s high standard. Each loss of a child was another hateful glare from the male. She has always had a kind heart. Tending to flowers in her private garden, taking strolls through the local village to give out bread and flowers, keeping herself golden even if her life wasn’t as lavish as her parents had expected.  As a mother, Issabell had always been loving. Adoring her gorgeous daughter, wanting to fill young Amara with love and softness. This, of course, was hard with Tyron stepping in. He wanted her cold and Issabell wanted her warm. The Queen wanted her princess to be sweet like honey, soft like silk, but respected. She never once saw the young girl as weak - finding kindness to be her greatest strength.

( ✦ amara rayne varorne ✦ ) — the treasured princess

         Amara Rayne Varorne; the treasured princess. The King may have found the young girl as a disappointment and something to be ashamed of, but the people of her kingdom never saw her in such a way. There are thousands of words her people would use to describe her. Loving, kind, generous, gorgeous, a true Varorne born. Thousands of words and yet, not one had ever been weak. She had been taught to only speak when spoken to, to keep all thoughts and feelings hidden inside until she was alone, to be the perfect little princess. But after surviving her father, no one could see her as weak. Even with her kind mother, many kingdoms were worried. Tyron was mad and every other Varorne child before him had been mad with power - bloodlust. It was a frequent saying drifting in the wind; Every time a new Varorne is born, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land. Every person was close wondering if the born princess would be the first blood-thirsty female in the Varorne bloodline.

( ✦ hadrian tyron varorne ✦ ) — the abandoned prince

   Hadrian Tyron Varorne; a name not many know. He is the abandoned prince, the secret son, born due to an affair between the King and a prostitute. The male was kept secret. Sent off to a faraway village, never gifted with the title he was born to. Every person close to the kingwom wondered if the born princess would be the first blood-thirsty female in the Varorne bloodline; unknowing the mad Prince had been born two years earlier. 

Amara has never once met her half-brother, the family secret kept even from her and between the King and Queen themselves; the secret only gifted to one knight outside of the family. He is expected to bring the prince to the throne if the King shall pass - wanting to keep their land Varorne born.

Due to this, Hadrian knows of his birthright. He knows of his sister, of his father he is the mirrored image of, of the death his mother had gone through to bring him into the world. And he works each day, building his skills to be ready when his father falls. Ready to follow in his own footsteps as the next Mad King.

( ✦ words gifted to rayne by her family ✦ )

❝You must be made of stone, Daughter. But no, you are nothing but glass. Weak.❞ — words spoken by Tyron, drilled into her mind all her life.

❝You’re only worth is your silence.❞ — words spoken by Tyron.

❝A Queen is only a woman after all.❞ — words gifted by Issabell.

( ✦ varorne family facts ✦ )

— Tyron has never been a man of his word. Going against a deal after he has gotten his half of it has always been his way of doing things. Turning his back on every man he seeks out for help.

— Tyron's army may be small but he sees them as strong warriors, never finding it a surprise when he sends them up against large armies.

— The Varorne crest includes a dragon holding a sword between its teeth and a limp body in its claws. Due to this, many refer to the Varorne family as ‘Dragonborn’. Adding onto this, their skin tends to be hotter than most. Finding more comfort surrounded by fire than by snow. In the family, you must work hard before you can earn your Dragon title. The King and Queen both hold their own close while Amara has not earned the title - it must be gifted to her by her father.

— Hadrian has a strong hatred for his half-sister. It’s complete jealousy for her being allowed to have her title and being known around far more kingdoms than expected; while he’s the family secret. With his hatred comes his own plan to see her fall as soon as possible.

— The Varorne family has always been strong with tradition. Following certain prayers to not gods, but spirits. They tend to be able to tell if something bad is close by or if something is going to go wrong, however, not many tap into this instinct as much as they should. Issabell tried her best to teach Amara to follow this instinct, figuring it would make her a better leader.

[turtlecleric]

Chapter 22 - ALL my notes for this chapter. This post is complete, now. I'm crying again. Good morning everyone.

I MISSED IT THE FIRST TIME BUT SHE CHANGED DONNIE'S CONTACT NAME FROM 💜🐢 TO donnie! Also, when they text here, Donnie always, always responds to her immediately, while for her there are several minutes between her receiving his texts and her responding. Also also, this text:

donnie (8:20 a.m.)

W

Did he send that by accident? It's so unlike him. Was that him starting to ask what happened again?

Spending eight hours in the practice rooms is hardly anything that’s unfamiliar or even uncommon to you, but by Thursday, you find yourself dragging, tired, tired, tired, so so tired. ... What happened? ... Your back hurts. You’re tired. You want to just collapse onto your couch and not move until you need to go back in tomorrow. What happened? You could always do this level of work before. This is what you always used to do. Yet it’s suddenly as if you don’t have the stamina for it. What happened?

Again, Vi being so affected by everything she's been through and not even really understanding... this mirrors her not realizing she was sick, not realizing/being surprised that she was so affected by almost being shot, etc.

Thinking of Leo’s disapproving face, you pick at some leftovers from the takeout left in your fridge for supper.

Once again. How is she going to fare now? Who is going to take care of her? No one knows about what happened between her and Leo. Even now, before she knows about Leo, she's struggling so much. Going through her day robotically, not eating enough, losing herself in practice and work. After this chapter... it's going to be so much worse.

When she's reflecting on the miscommunication, I agree with her. Neither she nor Donnie really did anything wrong.

Yeah. You’re going to be fine, you think with the tiniest glow of optimism

Oh honey. You got a big storm coming. (Let me hug her. I'm so sad. I'm so angry. I'm so worried. Sam confirmed that, at the very least, Vi isn't going to hurt herself (Thank God thank God thank God) but she still doesn't take care of herself very well.

I'm so glad she has Sinclair as a friend, too. Someone not involved with the fam.

When she's playing during the memorial concert and thinking about the fam... God. She loves so, so deeply. Then -> Even when the piece returns again to the main theme, it carries on its breath a beacon that reminds you, a little, of the picture in the front of your apartment. A reminder that darkness is only as frightening as you let it be, that hope is always a weapon against it. If there is a moment, after Leo's reveal, where she looks at that picture and feels the opposite, remembers the time Leo scared her and replaced the frame, loses hope even for a moment... I'm going to lose it. I'm going to absolutely lose my fucking mind with rage at Leo and sorrow for Vi.

God. She brings bread to Lou Jitsu night. Another twist of the knife for Leo, a reminder of how upset she is about Donnie (he knows that she bakes when she's stressed, she specifically told him that early on) AND of how good/thoughtful she is.

She doesn't even want to ask someone for help with the manhole cover. Already, she's withdrawing. Even before Leo... how bad is it going to be? How long until someone realizes?

Poor Donnie. He doesn't understand!!! He's done nothing wrong!!! The rejection from Vi, coming out of nowhere for him... I feel so bad for him.

Also:

Donnie looks down at where you’re cutting up the fruit. The back of his hand presses to his mouth, and he averts his gaze. ... Donnie absconds, leaving you to blink at his back, then down at your hands, wondering what he’d seen in your juice-stained hands to have sent him running like that.

Is this JUST him upset/anxious/confused over her dismissal of him? Or is there something else, with the fruit? I refuse to let anything go anymore.

[April talking] "I’m still shocked I didn’t have to fight to get them to publish my last bit on the bombing at the quartet workshop. I’ve never had it so easy getting stuff like that through, before"

Once again, I'm not letting anything go. Will this be important later?

you don’t return to your spot on the couch where Donnie’s still sitting, his eyes looking at you like he’s trying to calculate something

He's so confused :(

Yeah, right, you think fondly. You’re pretty sure no one is capable of doing anything to upset Mikey.

Just fucking WAIT until Mikey finds out what Leo did. Oh my god. Oh my GOD.

(Vi got to meet Pavarotti, that's so fucking cool)

Donnie keeps trying to talk to her, to touch her. And then:

“Can we—” he starts. You don’t let him stop before you twist away, putting your back to him and finding someone, anyone nearby. Leo meets your gaze where he’s leaning back against the wall, and you nearly weep with relief. You can feel Donnie’s tense posture behind you, but you ignore it, nearly swallowed with the nervous energy that threatens to drown you. 

This must hurt him so much. Yeah, I can see why he thought Vi and Leo were together or something.

And Leo. Not being all there. Dreading the conversation that's to come, knowing it's all going to change after tonight.

“Right. Sorry to bother you,” you say genuinely [to Leo]

(How could you?)

[Vi talking about the memorial concert] this time, I got kinda caught up in my head. Thinking about you guys. What the event should mean. For you.”

Leo’s eyes soften, and his mouth gets a complicated twist that confuses you. His right hand tightens at his thigh before unfurling, a gesture so quick you almost miss it. 

(How could you?)

Finally the conversation with Donnie. It hurts, how confused he is. How upset he is when she explains.

“I meant romantically,” you say, watching as his entire body freezes. Eyes wide, not moving an inch. You’d think him a statue, were it not for the way that his gaze is trembling a little.

“…I didn’t,” he says, his breath a little airy. 

Do you think this is the catalyst for him starting to consider whether he really does like her romantically? It being said out loud like this, explicitly?

It really is a breath of fresh air for them to finally be on the same page, talking openly and explicitly. It's so nice. I'm so thankful for this conversation. Sam really did do an amazing job with it. I'm not going to paste anything in because literally the entire thing is phenomenal.

Donnie's so fucking distraught at the idea of not being near Vi, of not even talking to her.

“However you’ll let me have you.”

Desperate. God, it hurts. And when they talk, here, there's an emphasis on "just friends" - how will that affect Donnie if/when he realizes that he DOES like her romantically?

Donnie squints his eyes. “…I suppose Leo did make an odd face before when he learned that I recorded things,” he concedes.

Is this referring to when Leo finds this out in the show? Years and years ago, at this point in the fic? Or did Leo find out that Donnie recorded things with Vi and assumed that she had consented to it?

And finally we get to the conversation with Leo. I'll try my best not to paste in too much, but again the entire thing is so... it kills me.

“…It’s been almost ten years,” he says instead. 

“Since Krang?” 

“Since Donnie touched someone else.”

Yeah. I get it. I get why he did it. I really do. But that doesn't make it any less of a really shitty thing, it doesn't make it any less of a betrayal.

(Hearing more details on how affected Donnie was by the Technodrome fucking kills me and I love it. I hope we get even more insight as to how bad he was.)

"It was so obvious that he had feelings for you." ... "you tell me that you’re dating, that you like him, and—and I see it on his face. That he feels the same for you."

Leo is so good at reading people. This is another check in the 'Donnie loves her and doesn't realize' box.

“I stopped. Completely. After we talked in my room.”

The words are like a knife in your heart. You bark a demented laugh. “Oh, only then?!"

That was so recently. It hurts. It hurts so much.

“You weren’t part of the family!”

This. This is the worst, absolute WORST part. From day fucking ONE he knew. He knew she was lonely and wanted a family. He knows how important they are to her. I'm literally crying again reading this. It hurts. It hurts so much.

For the first time in your life, you feel your face go perfectly, completely blank.

Leo’s face crumples. “No. No, sweetheart, no—”

He knows how much that hurt her. He sees everything. He knows how absolutely earth-shattering this is for her. And it's all his fucking fault. And when he calls her "mi tesorito" after that and she tells him not to call her that... God. It's so fucking painful.

“Don’t—Don’t do this. Please. Please, don’t do this. Let me make it right. Come on, open the door. Talk to me. Please, please, talk to me. Don’t shut me out like this. I can—I can’t—” ... “Please, open the door. Open the door and talk to me. Please—” Leo sobs, the thud of his forehead hitting the barrier between you audible. 

Desperate. Distraught. Destroyed. The regret is choking him. He fucked up, fucked up SO BADLY. AGAIN. It's ALL HIS FAULT. AGAIN. (How could you? How COULD YOU? HOW COULD YOU? HOW COULD YOU HOW COULD YOU HOW COULD YOU HOW-)

(Was it worth it?)

I'm in Hell

SPOILERS FOR SYMPHONY CHAPTER 22 - THIS POST IS LONG YOU'VE BEEN WARNED

I'm so Unwell. I have never had any misunderstandings like the thing with Donnie, but I have been betrayed by someone who was my best friend for years, so this chapter... it's hitting me really, really hard.

---

When Leo first met Vi, he was studying her a lot. Remember the near-physical weight his scrutiny had felt like? You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. ... like a pinned rabbit ... you see an obsidian edge beneath his smile that feels a little sharp as you lean into it.

And then later in her apartment:

[Leo talking] “…You know what really got me interested in talking to you?”

“What?” you ask, tilting your head. 

“Donnie came back from talking with April and he was talking about you."

This is literally Vi and Leo's first time meeting - I don't think Leo started to really hate her until after she started coming to the Lair and he saw how Donnie reacted to her presence, but he mentions that Donnie talked about her already. It's framed within Vi's mind as him being careful with his family. He's the leader, he's careful around new people, he wants to make sure she isn't a threat, etc. But even though this is before the touch thing started, there could've been the seed of hatred already there depending on how Donnie spoke about Vi to Leo.

---

He [Leo] peers at you like he can read your life story where it’s written on your soul. ... “…You don’t have a lot of friends, do you?” he asks, his voice soft and yet cutting you all the same.

and this:

[Vi talking] “I had a lot of fun tonight. I’d… like to have more nights like this one. To. To have a family. If I can.” “You can,” he [Leo] says

He knew from the first fucking time he met her that she was lonely. That she wanted friends, wanted a family, wanted to belong. He knew that better than anyone else in the family, not only because of her saying this to him but also because of how well he reads people and how much time he spent with her. He's the only one who has seen her in her apartment, too, caught her in those few vulnerable moments in her home. I'm so fucking angry.

There are so many times in the fic that... I can't even articulate... here's some quotes early on -> "you hate how much you like this guy [Leo]" and "you smile when you see [the text notification is from] Leo" and when Vi is sick in the store she says "I miss Leo" and on and on. And that whole fucking time! He was!! UGH!!!

---

When Vi agrees to make Leo some bread so that maybe he can get some of Donnie's apology cookies he texts her "ttyl i gotta go rub this in donnie’s face" and yeah that's him being a little shit as always, but it's ALSO proof of him using EVEN THEIR PRIVATE TEXT CONVERSATIONS as ammunition rile up Donnie.

---

Hey look! Bits that hit different/hint at more going on/might be Leo's mask slipping!

“How long do we hafta wait before she ain’t a guest anymore?” Raph asks, causing you to snort a laugh. 

“That’s up to Donnie,” Leo says, voice heavy with an undercurrent of meaning you’re not picking up on, causing you to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He smirks, reaching over to poke your cheek with his finger. “Y’know. He’s the one who met you first, and all that.” 

…Something tells you it’s more than that, but he’s good enough at hiding it that you don’t feel comfortable calling him on it in front of the others.

...

you have no idea how you fit in [to the family], and Leo had all but told you that the space is here, ready and emblazoned with your name on it. You don’t quite see it yet, even if he apparently does.

...

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s complicated,” Leo says easily, and it’s only just, but you pick out the thread of iron bars in his tone, ready to come crashing down if you push even a little too hard. So, you don’t.

“Okay,” you say easily, causing him to get that piercing look he gets sometimes, the one when he feels more like a ninja than a funny turtle man who tries to see how many cookies he can shove into his mouth at once and sends you pizza rat memes at four in the morning. “…Dude, we’ve been friends for like, a week. It’s cool that you aren’t ready to spill your guts yet, you know that, right?” 

His eyes go sharp, but then he hums and smiles. You feel like you did the night you first met him, like there’s a test here and it’s in a language you don’t understand. It’s a bit uncomfortable, prompting you to grab your own drink and swallow a healthy bit of it just to have something to do.

...

[Vi talking] “…He [Donnie] seems lonely.”

Leo hums under his breath, cutting a portal that feels a little like home. “Well, lucky he has you, then.”

...

“Uh, I met her first,” Donnie says, scowling, while Leo just gives him a smug look. 

...

You do, however, lean in while the others are occupied, whispering to Donnie, “So, ten dollars, which one of them tops?” and laughing when he chokes. You catch Leo’s eyes and give him a devious grin, spying him look to Donnie with a curiously blank look before shifting to a catty smile of his own when he looks back to you

...

“One portal home for a lovely lady,” Leo says as he steps through, his face going a little flat when he looks over your shoulder to Donnie behind you.

...

Leo is… astonishingly quiet for a moment, his face blank of anything for you to read as he stares at the piece hard. Then he looks up at you, and you see an unusually capable person that doesn’t feel like your best friend, even as much as it feels like the real Leonardo, here for the first time for you to see.

...

[Vi talking] “I don’t… I don’t like keeping secrets. Or lying. Not from people I care about.” 

The weight of Leo’s eyes is almost physical. It makes you remember that he’s asked you to keep secrets, and your eyes snap to his, wondering if that’s the reason why he’s gone still like this. “I—I haven’t told anyone. About the ninja thing, or the Krang thing. I’d never—”

“I know,” Leo interrupts, threading his hand through your hair so he can cup your nape and press your forehead to his own. “I trust you.” You release a sigh of relief, nodding. “I’m just… thinking it might be time for us to repay that back.” 

You blink, gaze darting between his eyes. “I don’t… what do you mean?”

“We’re a pretty close-knit family. There’s a lot of… baggage. A lot of history. A lot of stuff we haven’t told you. And it’s… it’s starting to feel a little disrespectful,” he says, looking a bit displeased. “You’re one of us. It’s only fair.”

---

We all know about the constant comments Leo makes about being Vi's "favorite turtle" and "best friend" in front of the others/in the group chat. He talks in Chapter 22 about purposefully draping himself across her and pulling her close, hugging her, scenting her, touching her in front of Donnie to piss Donnie off. But there's all these other little things that seemed so innocent at the time and now I'm losing my mind wondering about each of them, wondering - is that something he did with malicious intent? How many nice things were ONLY done to piss off Donnie? There are so many times that he compliments her - for example:

“What? I can’t compliment my bestie and her fine legs?” Leo coos, reaching over and flicking your nose gently.

“Leonardo,” Donnie warns, folding his arms.

And I remember, during my second read through after I finished Chapter 20, being so happy and grateful that Leo was pretty consistently giving her compliments, because she deserves to be complimented and taken care of and loved, because she deserves good friends who hype her up, and this WHOLE TIME-

(Side note - that time that Leo complains she smells like Donnie's lab, he shoves her away and she falls to the floor. First read, it's just Leo being playful. Second read, I wonder... is that a little bit of his frustration getting out of him in a physical way? He shoved her to the fucking floor, and then, once Donnie shows up, Leo pats the cushion next to him for Vi to sit by him. Then he wraps his arm around her and pulls her in close to smell her. But that's only after Donnie shows up.)

When Mikey takes Vi's So-Shell profile picture -> “Wha—?” you start, only to feel Leo leaning in to smoosh his cheek against yours, the distinct feeling of bunny ears brushing the back of your skull. Once again, this is in front of Donnie. Plus it's for her profile picture, so that means every time Donnie sees her So-Shell profile he'll see Leo in the picture, too. Leo was also famously the first like on her first So-Shell post and gets her to always leave nice comments/emojis on his thirst traps.

When she comes to the Lair to practice with her viola, Leo offers up HIS room first, and only once she declines does he -> “Ugh, fine, you are so boring,” he says, and removing his arm, he shoves at your shoulders hard and pushes you through the portal. (Pushing her onto the floor, pushing her through the portal... he's kind of rough with her in the beginning, and I figured it was just because he's haha silly funny turtle man, physical comedy, joking around whatever but... again I wonder. Is he letting himself be a little rough as a way to express his true feelings?)

God, all these little things that... might have an ulterior motive and might not.

It's around the time Vi gets bruised up by that guy at the coffee shop that Leo seems to start actually acting like a real friend, in my opinion. “…You don’t even get how incredible you are, do you?” he asks, causing you to roll your eyes. “You seriously don’t see it.” 

The very next chapter he gets a glimpse of her being anxious over not being able to play, while she notices that he looks tired, invites him to listen to music and lets him sleep on her back, and in that chapter it says: you sit, quiet, letting him use you. My second read through, this line hit me hard because I KEPT noticing that she really does nothing but GIVE and I feel like she's constantly doing things to be useful to others. And now, as I'm skimming through a third time, it turns out that... yeah. Yeah. He was fucking using her. In Chapter 22, Leo says "then you reach out and touch me in a way no one has. You’ve helped me, even though I was just using you" and I'm thinking this is the moment that that really started. When she first let him sleep on her. And that's also the first time he churrs with her. After that, he gets her really nice sushi, and she thinks he's guilty for drooling all over for her, but I think maybe he was guilty because he's starting to realize how nice she is and how shitty it is that he's using her like that, even though he does continue those manipulative behaviors.

---

He sighs, his face going openly affectionate. “…You’re so…” 

What he thinks you are, you don’t know, as he chooses instead to pull you into a hug. You go easily, seeking the comfort of his embrace, hoping he can feel in your arms that you truly do mean what you said. 

“You know, instead of sorry, you should say—” Leo says, though as his face gets close to your throat, his mouth snaps shut and he goes still in a manner that reminds you a little of Donnie. 

“…Leo?” you ask, going to pull back from the hug to look into his face only to feel his hands go tight on your back, holding you close while he dips his beak to your skin and inhales. When he does pull back, he’s got a look of shock on his face that he quickly schools into something more neutral, but barely. 

This is where he smells Donnie on you for the first time, and the guilt he was starting to feel, the actual genuine affection he was developing for her, may have then been interrupted/overshadowed by his anger.

Vi was right to say she isn't gonna go back and examine every detail, because it's so fucking MUDDY! There are glimpses of true softness from him sprinkled throughout with him ALSO still hanging over her and doing shit that pisses Donnie off on purpose. And then of course the scene with Leo in the kitchen when he scares her, where we get the first big glimpse into his true anger about the whole situation, where we see him being sharp and cutting and dismissive and- I'm not going to paste in that whole scene, but he's so, so, SO angry. When she has that visceral, terrified reaction, he feels so bad (I do think he was genuinely, truly horrified that he scared her), but then he finds out that Vi and Donnie are (as far as Vi is aware) dating, followed by her telling him that Donnie misses touching his brothers, misses hugs, followed by Leo deciding to tell Vi about all the family secrets... so he's wrestling with this rage and jealousy, but he's also starting to really accept her as family (I think, since he shared the info about the Krang, about Lou Jitsu, about Casey, since he asked for her help)...

It kills me that, after that, he saw her trying so hard to help, like when she went to the library and got books on PTSD and fell asleep taking notes and she wakes up with a blanket covering her and a little blue heart on a note - he saw her doing that, on top of everything else she CONSTANTLY does for other people, for his family, and HE STILL, EVEN AFTER THAT, DOES SHIT THAT'S MANIPULATIVE. THE 4TH OF JULY PARTY, FOR EXAMPLE. “What she said,” Leo purrs, his fingers fluttering on your stomach as his eyes cut off to the side. He has a sharp look to his features that you’re a bit too drunk to dissect, so you just ignore it. He HAS to be looking at Donnie, here.

(Side note - we still don't know what Leo was doing when Vi was in the shower getting ready for the party... if anything. Maybe he really was eating cookies.)

It's at the end of the party that he smells sex on Vi, I think, for the first time. And the following chapter is when he starts avoiding Vi, and she goes to confront him and he says he's "Thinking about things. About what I want.” And THAT'S when he finally stops his bullshit. Ch 22 - "I stopped. Completely. After we talked in my room.”

---

I'm still working on fully re-reading Chapters 17+ until I make it back up to 22 and putting more thoughts into that post, but. Dear God. Sam is a genius and I'm so angry at myself. I had been so confused and angry with Donnie, when in reality he truly DID NOT KNOW about the misunderstanding between him and Vi. Meanwhile, as I'm fawning over Leo and so happy Vi has him and so grateful he's been such a good friend to her... he was the one using her, this whole time. I cannot believe it. I'm SICK with rage. I can't imagine how Vi could possibly... I can't... FUCK dude

[im-the-punk-who]

The car goes this week and I'm. Having more difficulty with that than I anticipated. Being trapped is not a feeling I deal with well lmao

[ayyy-pee]

Strangers in Love

Chapter 1

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Summary: It's been five years since you've seen Kento, the divorce leaving you to pick up the pieces of your life alone. When a chance encounter brings you both together again, will you be able to find it in you to trust and forgive him?

Genre: Divorce AU

Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Divorce, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Arguments, Ex-Husband Nanami Kento

“ Ngh , fuck you taste so good.” Gojo moaned before you. You watched as his tongue darted out to lick thick white cream from his lips, leaving a wet sheen behind. “God, I swear I could eat you forever.” He continued, hands coming up to caress gently.

He sighed lovingly as he dipped his tongue through the creaminess again and again. You couldn’t pull your eyes away. It was so…gross.

“Satoru.” You called out to him from across the table.

You were both seated in the new cafe you had been dying to try. You were so excited for this place to open, but you didn't want to go alone for reasons you weren’t comfortable acknowledging yet. Satoru finally had a morning free, so you invited him to check it out with you before you headed to work. 

However, it totally slipped your mind how much of a slut your friend was for sweets. Not much had changed since high school. He was still the same sweet toothed, messy eater he had always been and while you admired his consistency, you’d be lying if you said the absolutely lewd moans and smacking noises he let out while licking the cream out of the folds of a swiss roll weren’t embarrassing.

“What?” He asked, blue eyes beaming as the early morning sun cast its glow on him. In this light at this table next to this very large window, he almost looked like an angel. His shockingly white hair fell into his eyes and you reached forward to push his bangs back for him before they got doused in whipped cream.

“You’re so disgusting when you eat. Can’t you use a napkin at least once?”

“Baby-“

“Don’t call me that.” You interrupted, knowing Satoru ignored your request the moment it left your lips and would be calling you baby again in about three minutes.

“Why don’t you worry about your nasty black coffee and your sort of sweet honey almond bread and I’ll worry about enjoying this delicious swiss roll and my morning cookie milkshake with extra whipped cream on top.” He grinned, pretending to shiver in disgust at your breakfast and you tried to ignore the pieces of oreo stuck in his otherwise incredibly white teeth. It was a mystery his teeth weren’t filled with holes. As long as you’d known Satoru, you only knew him to eat desserts for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You often wondered where it all went to.

You looked down at your cup of black coffee. You didn’t actually know why you ordered this. You were more of a latte type of person, but the smell of the coffee beans roasting and the sweet scent of vanilla and honey wafting through the air made you feel as though you needed to balance the sweet with something a bit more bitter. You weren’t Satoru after all. An entire plate of sweets and a milkshake before 8am was sure to send you straight to the emergency room.

As you zoned out watching Satoru tongue fuck his pastry, you heard the telltale ding of the cafe door - a sign that another customer had entered. You paid it no mind, instead reaching forward to once again push Satoru’s bangs back. He smiled goofily as he leaned back in his chair and began drinking his thick milkshake like it was water. 

From your peripheral, a head of blonde hair caught your eye. You cast a quick glance over and immediately regretted it. Your entire body stiffened, back straight as a rod in your seat. You knew that head of blonde hair. At one point in time, you knew that head of hair better than anyone else’s. And you knew that face. That face with its unmistakable jawline your lips used to ghost over, those unnaturally sharp cheekbones your hands used to caress. That face that belonged to so many memories - both joyous and painful - that you kept tucked away in the deepest crevices of your mind. It was your ex-husband. It was Kento Nanami. 

You reached forward, trying to still your shaking hands and grabbed your cup of coffee, downing it all while ignoring the burn in your chest from the heat. You needed to leave. Now.

Your eyes darted around rapidly for a sign of any exit aside from the main one. You wanted to avoid him if at all possible. You hadn’t seen him in five years and you were hoping to keep it that way. You thought he left the city and yet, here he was leaned over in front of the display case, eyes roaming over the options. He hadn’t noticed you yet, and you felt your shoulders sag slightly in relief while your mind betrayed you, wondering if he still ordered the same nasty tart parfait topped with strawberries. He always loved having that before work every morning.

Stop.

You squeezed your eyes shut, reminding yourself that this man who you used to find your limbs tangled around almost every night was now virtually a stranger to you. You didn’t know him anymore. You made that choice.

—————-

5 Years Ago

You checked the clock hanging above the kitchen sink again before letting out a frustrated sigh. 10pm. Your eyes cast down, taking in the sight of your empty plate and your husband's cold, stale food across the table from you. He missed dinner again by more than a few hours. No call. No text. He just didn’t come home for dinner. You’d lost count of what number dinner this is.

Quietly, you gathered your plates and discarded any leftovers into the garbage disposal, washing the dishes for the night. It wasn’t like he was going to touch any leftovers. Knowing him, he would come home, say maybe four words to you before showering and going to bed.

When did it get like this?

You and Nanami were good friends in high school - bonding over being two loner kids in their awkward emo phases. After graduation Nanami moved away, opting to go to a university outside of Tokyo. You stayed behind. You kept in touch, both growing out of your emo style and attitudes and becoming adults. The distance truly made your hearts grow fonder. You found yourselves talking all day, every day. If you weren’t talking on the phone, you were texting, sending each other selfies and videos until one day, Nanami moved back.

He wasted no time showering you with affection, letting it be known he felt more than friendship for you. And you couldn’t deny you felt the same. Casual dates turned into more romantic affairs. Eventually you moved in together and soon after were engaged. 

Your marriage to Nanami was great at first, the honeymoon phase lasting longer than you suspected was normal for most couples. You were both so deeply in love with each other you couldn’t see straight. And then Nanami got a new job as a salaryman and that’s when things began to go downhill.

One particular night, you found yourselves entwined in bed after hours of love making. Tracing circles on your bare back, Nanami sighed.

“I hate my job.” He confessed so quietly you almost didn’t hear.

“Then leave, Kento.” You replied. The last thing you wanted was for him to suffer somewhere he wasn’t happy.

“I can’t just up and leave y/n. That would be foolish. I need the experience to be able to find anything better.”

He always looked at the bigger picture whereas you were impulsive, more likely to throw caution to the wind and never look back. Nanami grounded you while you encouraged him to let loose. A perfect balance.

“But Ken, if you’re unhappy, you can leave. We’ll figure it out. I want you to be somewhere doing something you enjoy.”

“You know what I would prefer?” He asked, kissing your forehead sweetly before running his fingers through your hair. You shivered at the touch, sighing happily.

“What’s that?”

“To be on a beach in Malaysia with you. I want to have enough money saved up that we can retire early and live our lives carefree on the water. Could you imagine?”

You lifted your head from his chest to meet his gaze, your heart fluttering when you saw the sparkle you had missed for some time dancing in his eyes.

“You want to be a beach bum?” You snorted. He responded with a soft pinch to your side, making you yelp.

“Of course not. I would like for you to lounge on the sand while I enjoy a good book next to you. We won’t have to worry about money or loading our train passes or about waking up early in the morning to squeeze in cafe time before going to work.”

At this, you stuck your bottom lip out, pouting. “What? I love our morning cafe time before work. You don’t?”

Nanami chuckled, a sound reserved only for you within these walls of your shared home.

“Of course I do, my love.” He leaned forward, kissing your bottom lip tenderly. “I just have other dreams for us. I see a different life for us - outside of the hustle and bustle of Tokyo. I’m going to get us out of here.”

Your mind raced with possibilities at Kento’s words. The world was vast and there were plenty of places to go, but Malaysia definitely sounded like a dream come true.

“Ok, baby. Malaysia it is.”

That was years ago. You were pulled from your trip down memory lane at the sound of the door opening. You glanced back up at the kitchen clock. 11:33pm. You heard Nanami’s agitated sigh before you saw him, fingers laced through the knot of his tie as he pulled it loose. He entered the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and sipping it. He startled when he saw you at the kitchen table, most likely expecting you would be asleep.

“Welcome home.” You muttered.

He hummed in acknowledgment, taking the seat across from you. In the dark light of the kitchen, you could see how tired Nanami was. The years had not been kind to him. His eyes housed dark circles beneath them, his lips downturned in what seemed to be a permanent frown these days, the light you so longed to see again long gone.

Most days were like this - you waiting for Nanami to come home from work until it became so late you fell asleep. He never thought to call or text, though you had asked him plenty of times before to do so. Not to keep tabs on him, but to let you know he was safe. And to be considerate of you. He never got around to doing it and most of your texts to him went unanswered. On some nights in the quiet of your bedroom, when the loneliness assaulted you, you wondered if he was having an affair, if there was another woman in the picture. You were embarrassed to think that you became so insecure in your marriage that you found yourself looking through his things one day. You found nothing to confirm your suspicions and so you let it go.

Dinners were spent mostly alone save for the times you went out with a friend to grab something, your heart not able to handle another night of cooking for two and eating by yourself in silence. Long gone were your morning cafe dates, Nanami opting to get up even earlier than you had before to get to work. His reasoning started out as “This is for Malaysia” and soon became “I have deadlines to meet. Surely you’re capable of getting a muffin on your own.” followed by the soft click of the front door locking.

No goodbye kisses, no shared meals. You couldn’t remember the last time you had touched each other outside of awkward bumps trying to maneuver around one another.

“Y/n.” Nanami’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. You shook your head, trying to bring yourself back to the present.

“Yes?”

“I said I’m going to go shower and go to bed. I’m quite tired and I need to be in the office early tomorrow. Goodnight.”

And with that, he stood and left to the bedroom without so much as a glance back. You felt numb, your hands balling into fists in your lap. The built up frustration and loneliness you had been feeling the last few years were bubbling up and boiling over. You needed to say something to your husband. It could not stay this way forever.

With newfound determination, you entered the bedroom to find Nanami already under the blankets in bed, his back facing away from your side of the bed. You climbed in next to him, wrapping your arms around him. He sighed and you braced yourself for the rejection your advances were so often met with.

“Y/n, I’m exhausted.”

You ignored him, pressing soft kisses to the tender spot between his shoulder blades that only you knew about. You were met with a quiet groan from the blonde man before you. He shifted slightly, still trying to resist.

“Make love to me, Kento.” You placed another kiss to that same spot, running your tongue lightly over it. “Please.”

Nanami groaned again, louder this time and turned over to face you. “It has to be quick.” He murmured. “I’m very tired.”

While you felt heat pool in your core at him accepting your advances fairly easily, your heart couldn’t help but hurt a little bit at how he seemed to only be doing this to appease you, not because he truly desired you.

You felt Nanami’s weight press against you as he climbed over your form. His lips came down to find your pulse point on your neck, making you gasp out into the darkness of your bedroom. The sound caused Nanami to react, a moan escaping his lips as he continued kissing and sucking on your spot.

His hands roamed your body slowly, fingers deftly finding your hardened nipple and tweaking it. You moaned softly at the sensation, your body already going into overdrive after having not been touched in so long. Nanami’s body reacted as well, his hips coming down between your spread legs and pressing his clothed length against your throbbing core.

You loved Nanami. You longed to feel close to him, to feel your bodies tangled in the sheets the way they often were when you first began dating, when you were first married. However, in this moment, you were so nervous . Why were you so nervous? 

Nanami pressed himself against you again, groaning as he brushed his lips across your jaw. Your heart was beating so hard, so fast you thought you were beginning to feel lightheaded. His fingers slid down from your nipples to the hem of your nightgown, pulling it up for better access to your wet folds. Your breath was coming out rapidly, the blood rushing so quickly through your body you could hear it in your ears.

Your mind raced with memories of the last few years. Your wedding, conversations had in this very bed, the many nights of empty plates sitting next to full untouched ones, the intense sadness you felt overwhelming you everyday. You thought initiating sex with your husband would bring you closer, would make you feel the tiniest bit of desire from him. But it all felt wrong.

As Nanami’s lips hovered over yours, your breaths mingling with each other, you felt your throat close up. Your eyes were warm with the onset of tears and as he moved closer to press his lips to yours you choked out a quiet “stop” before he could reach you.

Nanami froze above you. You couldn’t see his face in the dark and you were thankful for that because you knew there was no turning back from what you were about to do. You would no longer be able to touch him or call him if you felt the urge. You would not be in this position again after this. This was going to change everything.

“What’s wrong?” He sighed out irritably and you knew it was because he was tired that he was being grumpy with you. Regardless, it gave you the resolve you needed to say it.

“I-I want a divorce.”

———————

Present Day

“Y/n…” A distant voice called out to you. You didn’t respond. “Earth to Y/n. Hello?” A pale hand came up to cup your cheek. Your eyes snapped down to the hand then to the face of whom it belonged to.

“Satoru.” You gasped. He swiped his thumb across your cheek and it was only then you realized your face was wet. You had been crying.

“You okay baby?”

Your brows furrowed. “I told you don’t call me-“

“Y/n.”

Another voice spoke from behind Satoru. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You looked up, coming face to face with who you wanted so badly to escape from. Nanami stood behind Satoru, a paper bag in one hand and a coffee in the other. You saw him glance down at Satoru’s hand still on your cheek and you slapped it away.

Satoru spun around in his seat and looked up, smiling brilliantly as he caught on to the current situation quickly. “Oh! What’s up, Nanamin? Haven’t seen you in awhile. Thought you kicked rocks to Michigan or whatever.”

Nanami cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “I did leave the city for a bit, but I’m back now.” His eyes were glued to you and you forced yourself to look away, staring into your empty coffee mug.

Satoru hummed. “Well, Y/n was just heading out anyway. She needs to get to work. Right, baby ?”

You bit back a retort at the pet name, simply thankful to Satoru for giving you an out. 

“Right! I should get going or I’m going to be late. Wouldn’t want that.” You stood, gathering your purse and dumping your untouched bread onto Satoru’s plate. You were met with a scowl from him.

“Great running into you, Nanami. Um, welcome back.” You murmured. “Maybe we can catch up later.” And you fought back a wince at the fake offer that now hung in the air between you both, praying instead that the earth would open up and swallow you.

You moved around Nanami who was standing as still as a statue and made your way to the exit, waving back at the kind employees who yelled for you to visit again. You rounded the corner quickly, ignoring the ding from the cafe entrance behind you and the quick footsteps approaching.

“Y/n!”

Your body tensed again as you came to a stop on the sidewalk. You turned, coming face to face with your ex-husband again. He was breathing quickly, his coffee dripping down the sides of his cup as though he had truly hurried after you.

“Next week?” He questioned. You gave him a look of confusion.

“What?”

“Next week. You said maybe we could catch up later. What about some time next week?”

Your heart was in your throat now. Why? Why would he want to meet up? You had nothing to talk about. Unless he wanted to tell you about how amazing his life is now and how he has a new wife he loves and kids and - 

“So, are you ok with scheduling some time for then?”

You shook your head. “Oh. Um, sure.”

He smiled that tiny smile he used to do when he felt shy and your body reacted against your will, heart pounding harshly in your chest. He almost looked like the Nanami you knew from high school, sans the side bang. “Ok. Is your cell number still the same? I can text you and we can iron out the details.”

You nodded. “It’s the same. Yep, just text me. I have to go.” You didn’t wait for a response before turning on your heel and hurrying to the train station. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You needed to get out of the same air space as Nanami.

You took a seat on the train, doors shutting shortly after. A vibration from your pocket alerted you to a notification. You pulled your phone out, seeing a message from an unknown number.

Unknown: It’s Kento. It was very good to see you again if only for a short while. I look forward to speaking with you later on regarding catching up. Have a good day at work.

Sliding your phone back in your pocket, you let out a long sigh, thinking long and hard about what possible plans you would be making with your ex-husband.

[honeyhatake]

Indulgence- Sweet as Honey 🍯

This story was written quite a while ago, and it is definitely a self insert lol. I originally wanted to call is Sweet as Honey, then added Indulgence to it. This is kinda where I got my name from. The story is from Kakashi’s perspective, and quite long. There’s room for it to even be longer if I’m being honest. Anyways, let me know what you guys think! Thank you for reading 💕

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Warnings- Implied suggestive thoughts, afab reader, fluff

Word Count- 6k

Summary- Kakashi is a man that doesn’t like sweets. Yet he finds himself eating a lot of them lately. The sweets are not the only things he wants to Indulge in, he just hopes that she’ll let him.

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I have found myself indulging a lot lately. Taking longer walks, more frequent breaks, naps in the middle of the day. Finding the time to treat myself to things I don’t normally have. Sweets being one of them. Even though they weren’t something I enjoyed frequently, I found myself eating them anyway. All because I needed some excuse to make my way to the bakery every day. No matter how badly it hurt my stomach at days end.

It started when I got back from a lengthy mission, wanting to make myself a nice breakfast on my day off. The indulgence was small, just a simple loaf of bread, but it needed to be fresh. I knew the bakery by the flower shop had just opened up with new management- the old owner of the store finally retiring after over 50 years of running the place. Their bread was good, and so were their cakes (not that I ate cake often, but nonetheless.) I just hoped the new owners were as nice as she was, and had treats just as good.

On my walk there it was overcast, so I brought an umbrella. There was a slight chill to the air, cold enough to make my ears red. My nose would have been too if it wasn’t wearing a face covering. I warmed my hands with my breath through my mask as best as I could approaching the shop. The smell of bread and sweets already flooding my sinuses. Breathing it in I smiled and walked into the shop. It was early morning, but the bakery had been open for a few hours now. Hopefully they still have warm bread.

The bakery was small and very cozy. There was one spot for seating, shelves with recipe books, and the decor made it look lived in. It wasn’t too different from how it looked before, but a lot of things were updated and the walls definitely had a fresh coat of paint.

When I walked in no one was at the counter, so I browsed the cook books. I didn’t really need one, but it gave me something to do while I waited. Not long after I hear the voice of a woman behind the counter.

“Oh! Sorry ‘bout that, had to step away to show someone how to prep some pastries. What can I help you with today?”

Turning, my eyes locked with hers, the recipe book that I unsuccessfully tried to put back fell to the ground. This made her giggle, and I felt my cheeks getting warm. Thank god for this mask! Trying my best to brush it off, I laugh lightly and pick up the book, putting it in its proper spot. “Sorry about that, let’s see…” Stepping carefully towards the counter, I pray I don’t trip over my own feet next. “I uh, I’m not really sure what I want yet.” My eyes moved down to the glass display next to the counter and looked over all my options. There was a lot more than I had anticipated. Several breads, rolls and pastries. They all looked well made, like she put her whole heart and soul into them, yet I knew I was only here for a simple loaf of bread. My eyebrows knit together as I tried to think over which one would be best, slowly getting embarrassed by how long I was taking.

“Well… do you know what kind of baked good you’d like?” She asked in a very sweet voice. I looked up at her and her cheeks were as pink as I’m sure mine were. Her eyes almost had a sparkle to them as well. I wanted to keep looking, but I blinked and shifted my view back on the bread. Not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“I need a loaf of bread, but I’m not sure which would be good.” When my vision shifted back to her, her eyes fluttered and a sweet smile appeared on her lips.

“My favorite is the Sourdough, but our Brioche is good too! It’s a pretty sweet and light bread. But if you want something without too much flavor, I’d go with the wheat.” As she spoke she took a step over to the display case and gently placed her hands on top of it. The new closeness made my heart beat out of my chest.

“Maybe I’ll go with the Sourdough then, since it’s your favorite.” I smiled at her with my eye in an attempt at flirting. Perhaps it was inappropriate, but I couldn’t help but admire her. The way her hair was done so perfectly, her makeup simple but well done. How soft her skin and entire being looked. Made me want to indulge in more than just bread.

Gracefully, the women behind the counter collected a loaf of bread for me and packaged it up. Setting it on the counter, she put what looked like a berry muffin right next to it. “Alrighty, since this is your first time coming in today I’m gonna give you this muffin for free. It’s a new recipe anyways, so I’m trying to get the word out about it.” Her smile was contagious. There was no doubt her actions were just very good customer service skills, but the idea of her doing something like this for only me made my stomach flip.

“Well that’s very sweet of you, I’ll make sure to let you know what I thought of it!” My eye focused on her as I spoke, proceeding to pull out my wallet. “I think I’ll have to try some other things you have here as well. What time do you guys open?” Her giggle did nothing but fuel the fire inside me as she took the money from me. I just needed more reason to keep the conversation going.

“Oh it’s nothing really! You’ve been very nice, so take it as my way of saying thanks- but we open at 6am. Gotta be open for the early risers.” I took my treats from the counter smiling, already planning on coming back tomorrow.

“Alright, then I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning!” Giving her an awkward peace sign, I casually slipped out of the shop. Popping open my umbrella as it was now raining. My thoughts filled with nothing but her the whole way home.

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The next day I got up just before the shop opened. I hadn’t finished the loaf of bread I had bought, but the muffin was long gone. Mindlessly I ate on it while I read, which was a big mistake. It was rather sweet, plus eating the whole thing made my stomach hurt the rest of the night. Yet I was ready to go in again and buy another sweet thing, just to talk to a girl I had only just met. It was almost infuriating how she ruled over my thoughts. Wanting to know every little thing about her. Today however, I made it my mission to find out her name.

The bell to the bakery rang as I opened the front door. The women from yesterday was stocking the display case this time. Looking up and smiling at me immediately. “Wow! You weren’t kidding when you said bright and early.” She came to the counter whipping her hands on her pink apron. She looked just as beautiful as she did yesterday, maybe even more so- if that was possible. “What can I get for you today?”

Walking right up to the counter myself, I placed my right palm on it and looked at her as I spoke. “Well I was hoping to get another recommendation from you! The bread and muffin were quite delicious. The berrys in the muffin were perfectly sweet, along with the cakey part.” I laughed as I gave her my review and looked over at the display case, then back to her. “So what do you think I should get today?” I cocked my head, smiling at her, hoping my body language wasn’t making her too uncomfortable. With how pink her cheeks were again, I could tell it definitely had some sort of effect on her- unless it was just coincidence.

Clearing her throat she hummed, and moved over to the display case. “Hmm… alright, how about. Yes!” Returning to the counter, she placed a bun in a bag, along with a couple bars that were individually wrapped. “Sweet buns are a guilty pleasure of mine, I eat them most mornings.” The same giggle as yesterday, made me laugh with her. “And these are homemade granola bars. One is almond and lavender, the other is honey and hazelnut!” The ingredients intrigued me, though I knew my stomach was not going to be happy with me. Despite that I bought them anyway, not wanting to say no to her.

“So… could I get your name? I know this place is under new management now, and I haven’t seen you around before.” Finishing my sentence, a couple came in behind me. I almost outwardly groaned, knowing our conversation was going to be cut short.

“Good morning! I’ll be right with you guys!” She greeted her new customers with a smile then turned back to me. “I’m Y/n, I’m actually the new owner of this place! My grandmother was the one who passed it down to me. I just moved back here from the Hidden Mist, that’s where my dads from.”

“Ah, I see! That explains why I haven’t seen you before. It’s lovely to meet you then, Y/n. I’ll be sure to stop by again sometime and tell you how these are.” With thanks I hung my head, and tried my best to leave quickly, not wanting to interfere with her work. There was still so much about her that I wanted to know. Why did she blush every time I spoke to her? Did she think of me as much as I thought of her?

Arriving at my apartment I shook my head at my thoughts. There was no way she thought of me that much. I was just plain, boring Kakashi. That’s when it dawned on me that I never told her my name.

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Today I was called away on a mission. It was not like me to be upset with having to work, but with my new found infatuation it was hard for me to want to do anything. Especially anything that didn’t involve me seeing or thinking of Y/n. That’s why I made up the excuse of needing snacks for the road. I doubted baked goods would hold up well, but one little thing wouldn’t hurt. Even though I knew I still had half eaten treats at home.

Arriving at the bakery I walked in through the propped open door. My sweet Y/N was stocking the recipe books today. She hadn’t noticed me yet, and with her not standing behind the counter I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander. My thoughts getting darker than they should. Stop that! Inappropriate! No! No! No! Shaking them off, I took a deep breath and took a step towards her. Trying my best to greet her without startling her.

“… good morning Y/n!” I said softly in her ear. Immediately making her jump, a book she had in hand going flying in the air. Quickly I grab it with ease, handing it to her with a chuckle. “Sorry, I was trying not to scare you!“

Y/n looked at me with her cheeks bright pink, clutching her chest. Awkwardly laughing she set the book on the shelf. “It’s alright, I needed a wake up call anyways. What can I get you today, Kakashi?” The mention of my name made my heart sink. She already knew my name?

“Eh- you knew my name?” I looked at her in slight disbelief, following her with my eyes as she moved to behind the counter.

“I mean, yeah… you are Kakashi the Copy Ninja right? You’re kinda famous.” She giggled, pointing it out as if it was something that should be obvious. I mean I was well known, but I didn’t think it spread that far. I blushed, feeling embarrassed in front of her yet again. “It’s okay!” Y/n laughed this time. “What can I get for you today hun?”

Hun? HUN!? She was throwing me so off guard today, I knew she’d be the death of me. My hands press to the counter trying to find something to ground myself. I knew the pet name meant nothing, I knew she was being nice, but I would have been more prepared if she attempted to throw a kunai at my chest. Taking far too long to answer, I eventually stammered out a response. “Dah- um… Oh, well, I was called on a mission.” As soon as those words left my lips my brain blanked. Y/n looked at me expectantly with kind eyes. She could tell I was flustered and gave me a smile.

“So… you need snacks for the road?” She guessed, pulling out a couple bags, never breaking eye contact with me. I nodded, knowing I was sweating at this point. What happened to my resolve? Yesterday I spoke so smoothly, now look at me! A sweaty nervous wreck who can’t even speak up. I found myself chewing on the inside of my lip as Y/n started filling the bags. “Don’t worry, I got you covered. I’ll even throw in some extra stuff for your team!”

Y/n proceeded to fill up a bag full of bagels, as well as a bag full of muffins. My stomach hurt just looking at all of it. Thankfully, I knew Naruto would be able to help me eat all of this. “Thank you… I'm sure my team will be happy.” My voice came out small as I paid her what I owed, giving her a tip as well to show my gratitude.

“Of course! You have a safe trip then! Oh!” She blinked rapidly remembering something. So cute! “I know you probably need to get going, but how did you like the things you got yesterday? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” I definitely didn’t mind her asking. In fact I wanted her to ask me a million questions just so I could keep talking to her, even if that meant me being late to the rendezvous.

“They were very good! I see why your guilty pleasure is the sweet bun. I’ll have to get another next time!” I looked over at the glass display case to see if any were baked today, then locked my eye back on hers. “The honey granola bar was my favorite out of those I think. The lavender one I wasn’t too big on if I’m being honest.” She smiled at me, then looked back as another worker came out from the back with the buns I was looking for. My eyes widened and Y/n giggled.

“Here!” Quickly she grabbed one with a parchment paper and handed it to me. “Go ahead and take it, it’s on me. I appreciate your honesty! I’m glad you liked at least most of the things I gave you.” I took the warm bun in my free hand and felt my heart swell. This was the second treat she’s given me for free, and this time it wasn’t for the benefit of the shop. I tried my best to give her a sweet smile and bowed my head.

“Thank you, Y/n! I’ll be sure to repay the favor. I’ll come see you as soon as I’m back!”

“Oh please do! Have a safe trip! Hopefully the mission isn’t too strenuous! See you later Kakashi!” She waved goodbye as I stepped out of her shop. My breathing was heavy, and I could feel myself getting emotional from just her words alone. Clearly it had been a long time since someone had treated me this kindly. Did she care for me that much, or was she just a caring person. Either way I knew how felt about her. I adored her, and I wanted nothing more than to spend every waking second with her. Unfortunately I had work to do, so that thought will have to be saved for later.

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With the sweet bun consumed, I arrived at the Rendezvous spot fashionably late. A slight pain in my stomach that I tried to ignore. Lazily greeting my comrade’s of my team and Guy’s who would all be working together on a mission this week. A simple search and rescue mission.

“If my calculations are right, this mission should take less than a week to complete. We have plenty of leads, and with the help of my Ninken we should be able to pull this off without a hitch.”

“Kaka-Sensei! This mission is boring! We should ask for a different one, let Bushy Brow and Bushier Brow-Sensei take care of it!”

“It would be our honor to take full control of this mission Kakashi-Sensei! Let’s do it!” Lee from Guy's team posed with his palms up in a taijutsu stance, fully ready to take up Naruto’s request.

“That’s it Lee! Way to show your fighting spirit!” Guy encouraged, giving me a thumbs up.

With a groan from the rest of the group, I shoved the bag of bagels and muffins towards Naruto. “Absolutely not! It will go by a lot faster if we work together. Now take these and keep your mouth shut.” It didn’t take long for Naruto to get excited and immediately start pulling out bagels- Lee and Tenten joining him shortly after.

“Kaka-Sensei, I think we should all split up and have our own Ninken with us. That would be our best plan of action.”

“Thank you Sakura, I was going to do exactly that.” Forming the hand signs, I place my palm on the ground creating the summoning circle. “Summoning Jutsu!” With a puff of smoke four dogs appear, Pakkun, Urushi, Shiba and Bisuke.

“What is it now, Kakashi?” Pakkun asked in a gruff voice.

“Well good morning to you too!” I smiled down at the small pug. Wondering if Y/n liked dogs or not. “Today we’re on a search and rescue mission, so we’re gonna be splitting up. I’ll have you go with Sakura and Sai. Urushi you’ll be with Naruto and I. Shiba’s with Guy and Tenten, and finally, Bisuke. You’ll be Neji and Lee.” Crouching down I put an article of clothing in front of their snouts and lets them gather the sent. I cleared my throat trying my best to keep my head clear. My aching stomach is only making things worse. Really should have saved that sweet bun for later. “Alright, now that that’s settled, let’s all fan out from here. We’ll meet at the next spot about mid day. Use the coms if you find anything or need some assistance. Okay, let’s go!”

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By the end of the day we had made some progress, but still no signs of the missing individuals. We camped out for the night in a small wooded area agreeing to pick back up in the morning. We caught some fish and cooked them up, not wanting to head into potential enemy territory. At this point we were pretty close to the village hidden in the grass, hoping we wouldn’t run into any issues.

Around 9pm, most of the group was asleep besides Guy and I. He quietly worked out, while I sat against a tree reading Icha Icha. We kept to ourselves, until ultimately Guy decided to disturb my peace. The one time in the past two days I wasn’t tormented with thoughts of Y/n. “So, who’s the girl?” Guy asked, without stopping his set of push-ups.

I scoffed, playing dumb. “Tch- what girl? Who said there was a girl?”

“Really? Mr. “I don’t like sweets” Kakashi, just shows up with a bag of sweets out of random? Come on! There’s definitely a girl! Is it the cute one from the bakery?” He gets up looking down at me, hands on hips. “I heard she just moved here. You like her don’t you?” Guy pressed me further on the topic as he started to stretch. I rolled my eyes at him and looked back at my book. Though I couldn’t ignore the fact that my heart was beating so loud I’d be surprised if one of the kids didn’t wake up from it.

“I just met her, and they have decent baked goods. There’s nothing wrong with indulging a little here and there.” I tried to keep my voice calm and collected, hoping he wouldn’t call my bluff. There was nothing I hated more than talking about my own personal feelings. Especially when it involved my feelings towards other people.

“Oh come on Kakashi! You went to that bakery every morning for the past three days! You don’t eat sweets, so it has to be for a girl. Maybe you want to indulge in all that that sweet little lady has to offer you!” Guy raised an eyebrow suggestively, plopping down on the ground beside me. The suggestiveness of his comments made my cheeks heat up, I quickly moved my hand to pull my mask further up my face. Clearing my throat before I spoke.

“No… not at all. Drop it Guy, she’s practically a stranger.” At this point I was done listening. I put my book away and started to get myself ready for bed.

“Don’t lie to yourself Kakashi! This is the springtime of our youth! Learn to take advantage of it a little. Don’t let her slip through your fingers before she’s even in them!” I groaned knowing that he was right. This was all so new to me though. Having crushes, having relationships that lasted longer than a night, thinking about a singular person day in and day out. It just wasn’t like me, frankly it scared the hell out of me.

Laying on the cool ground I clutched my chest looking away from Guy. My throat got tight as I felt myself getting emotional yet again. “I- I just don’t know what to do. I can’t s- stop thinking about her…”

Guy chuckles and I hear him lay down. “Tell her what’s in your heart, Kakashi. I’m sure she’s thinking about you just as much!”

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The remainder of the week Guy’s advice never left my thoughts, along with the thought of what I was going to do next. Our mission was a success, with minor injuries. Me being the only one injured the whole time, which was a little demoralizing, but it was my own fault. My arm nearly got blasted off by one of Naruto’s rasengans because I was lost in my own thoughts. That’s why I decided that I needed to tell her. It was time I indulged in more than just the baked goods she sold to me. I just hoped she’d let me.

Arriving in Konoha, I turned in the report for the mission and went straight home to shower. If I was going to see Y/n I needed to at least smell nice. Maybe I’ll use the cologne I bought a while back and never ended up using. Hopefully she likes bergamot and firewood. God, why did I even buy this?

It was a little after mid-day when I finally made my way to the bakery. The walk there was spent rehearsing what I was going to say, and trying to shake the nerves. Just be straight forward. Offer to buy her dinner, make sure it doesn’t sound too forceful either. There’s a good possibility she’ll say no. The idea of being rejected made my chest feel heavy. I knew she was allowed to not like me back, to turn me down, or ask to just be friends. Though every fiber of my being just wanted her to say yes. Give me one of her sweet smiles and let me just whisk her away into eternity.

My feet stopped in their tracks as I almost walked right past the shop. Looking in the window I expect to see Y/n cleaning up, stocking shelves, or anything else. Right in front of me I saw Genma leaning against the counter, toothpick in mouth with a cheeky smile as he looked up at her. Her cheeks were bright pink, and she was looking at him intently. It almost looked like she was trembling. Was I too late? Did he beat me to it? Did something happen while I was gone?

My hand hovered over the handle on the door. I needed to see for myself what was going on. Maybe I could change her mind? Make her want me and not him. My self doubt and insecurity got the best of me yet again. I pulled away and walked off. Maybe this was for the best. She’d probably be very happy with him, and I wouldn’t want her to be unhappy. I’d most likely end up hurting her anyway… or even worse. Getting her killed.

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I had been gone for a week and within that time my infatuation was stolen from me. My guilty pleasure, my indulgence, my sweet Y/n. I watched the clouds roll by as I laid on my back in the grass. Arms fanned out, feeling utterly hopeless. This was just no good.

Perhaps my time of self indulgence had run its course. Maybe it was time to focus on missions again whole heartedly. Go back to training and teaching my students. It was silly of me to think that I could get something just because I wanted it. Silly of me to think I could indulge in something as rich and decadent as that. God she’s so pretty! The most riveting and alluring woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of looking at. What was I to her? What was Genma to her? Did he get free sweet buns too?

As my body began to relax, I felt myself starting to drift off as I lied there. Still only seeing her behind my eyelids. The cool breeze calmed my nerves and I took a deep breath. “Now then, sleeping won’t solve anything.” My hands run over my face and my fingers pinch the bridge of my nose firmly. Pushing myself to sit up, I had made up my mind. I will tell her regardless. She deserved to know, and I deserved to at least have a chance with her. Even if she ended up with Genma, at least I’ll know I tried.

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The bells to the bakery door rang as I opened them. It was almost closing time now and Y/n was finishing packing up some bread for an old woman. As soon as she saw me her eyes lit up, and she smiled real big. Holding up a finger so I know to give her a second.

“Alrighty ma’am, is there anything else I can help you with?” She asked sweetly, handing the bread off to her.

“Nope, that’ll be all.”

“Okay, then you have a great day! Thanks for coming in!” Y/n waved goodbye to the old lady, and immediately locked eyes with me as soon as she had left the store. As I approached the counter, I could see her pivot and then stop herself. A blush slowly reappeared on her cheeks again. “Hi!” She finally said, sounding nervous. “Ah- how was your mission?”

Seeing her nervous like this made me swoon. Though it paled in comparison to how she looked while talking with Genma. What did he say that made her so flustered? I racked my brain on what to say next, not wanting to ask her out right off the bat. She was at work after all.

“The mission went well! Found the missing people in little to no time at all, and with little injuries as well. Probably would have be none if I… well. If I hadn’t been thinking of you the whole time.” That did it. With those words her face was bright red. She must not be used to being flirted with, hopefully I didn’t make her uncomfortable. “I want to know how you’ve been. I have a lot of questions in fact. Would you mind chatting with me for a while once you finish up here?” Steadying my breathing I watched as the wheels turned in her cute little head. God the things I could do to her…

“Oh, uh, sure! I’d like that!” Y/n finally smiled, fluttering her eyelashes just right. It took every ounce of me to not grab her by the back of the head and kiss her right now. I just focused on my breathing yet again, making sure my words sound calm and collected.

“Okay, then I’ll be waiting at the Dango shop. Meet me there when you’re done!” Giving her a warm smile, I walked off. Heart thumping, my stomach doing somersaults, and I swear I was about to pass out. Maybe she won’t even show up.

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After an hour of waiting, sneaking sips of my tea, and twiddling my thumbs she appeared. Spotting me immediately she smiled and made her way to my table and sat down. She was wearing a new outfit and her hair was down, framing her face perfectly. Her beauty almost made me forget how to breathe. Not to mention the dress she was wearing sooted her so well. Loosed fitted, a light shade of green and a matching ribbon tied around the waist. My eye must have been heart shaped at this point with how precisely I was looking at her, not caring if she noticed either. Which she definitely did, because her cheeks were pink again.

Chuckling lightly, I poured her some tea. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. It really took everything I had to ask you here in the first place.”

Taking the cup from me she sipped it, and waved her hand lightly. “Awe well that’s sweet! It’s no trouble at all really, I actually wanted to talk to you anyways.” Her voice timid as I watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Please stop being so cute so I can think straight!

I cleared my throat, readjusting myself in my seat. “Alright, then let’s get straight to it then.” My hands fiddled with my cup as I thought of where I should start first. Genma. Start with Genma. I knew I had no right to be jealous, or feel as though she owes me anything. I just needed to know. “Earlier, when I got back in town, I stopped by the bakery. I uh- well obviously I didn’t go in, but I saw you talking with Genma. Um… it’s just. You looked very flustered. Your face was red, and.” Get to the point, Kakashi! “I was just wondering if you two were seeing each other. I don’t mean to corner you or anything, I was just curious.” I swallowed hard, hoping she wouldn't take my questioning the wrong way.

Her eyes widened, looking shocked. She didn’t look mad, though she was definitely not prepared for that question. My foot tapped restlessly as I waited for her response. Y/n shrugged and gave me a smirk. “No, we’re not. He did ask me out today though…” So he did beat me to it.

“And… how did that make you feel?” I looked at her, watching as her eyes looked at the tea inside her cup. She smirked then looked back up to me.

“Well, it caught me off guard. I had only talked to him once before. He seemed nice, but today he was…” She trailed off holding back.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just thought maybe you liked him or something.” To that her eyes got big again and she looked like she was about to panic.

“What? No! I mean… there’s nothing wrong with him. I just… I don’t know. There’s uh, somebody else.” Her words were fast and ran together, the last part practically a mumble. Yet I could still understand her.

“I see. So if not Genma, then who? What did Genma do that made you say no?” I knew I was being bold by asking her questions back to back, but my chest was aching. Genma was an attractive man, very popular with the ladies. Why would a beautiful woman such as her say no to a guy like him? Who could be better than him?

Taking another sip of her tea her eyes shifted around the room. “He didn’t want to actually date me. He just wanted to take me home with him. I told him no, especially because he asked me while I was working. He… he just made me uncomfortable. Though, I don’t think I would have said yes even if I wasn’t working.”

“Because of the other guy?” She nodded and messing with her cup the same way I had. I guess Genma wasn’t as great as I thought he was. Guess that makes sense why he isn’t ever with anyone for very long. “May I ask who has your heart then, Y/n?” Trying to word my question just right, so she doesn’t feel too pressured. I watched as she averted eye contact with me and swallowed hard. Taking a deep breath she tried to speak.

“Well… I don’t know if he has my heart just yet. He does, however, take up space in my head 24/7.” She bit the skin on her lip slightly, her hands moving done to her lap as she looked away from me. Alright, no more playing around. It’s now or never. Tell her, but don’t get your hopes up.

“Can I tell you something? It’s something that’s been on my mind for the past week now, and I just can’t hold it in anymore.” As I spoke, I kept my eyes locked with hers. Her cheeks still pink as she nodded. Here goes nothing.

“Lately, I’ve decided to be more self indulgent. Be kinder to myself, treat myself more. Relish in the things I don’t get to enjoy as often. One of those things being baked goods. Ever since that day, the day I walked into your bakery. The moment I saw you. I knew you were what I desired most. I want to know you, I want you to know me. Maybe I’m wrong for saying that, especially if you have eyes for someone else. I just, I just can’t stop thinking about you Y/n. I like you, way too much for my own good, and it’s okay if you don’t like me back.” A weight was lifted off my chest once the words left my mouth. Y/n stared at me, mouth a gap, but she wasn’t red in the face. In fact all color had gone from it entirely. My eyes widened in fear that I had scared her, or she was sick.

“Oh god! A- are you okay? I didn’t mean to make you un- uncomfortable if I did.” My hands instinctively reached out across the table. With her eyes fluttering, the pink returned to her cheeks and she giggled. Carefully moving her hands up and lacing her fingers with mine. I looked at our hands, then back to her, my eye fluttering now in confusion.

“You, Kakashi. You’re the guy I have eyes for. To be honest, I’ve liked you since the moment I saw you walk past my shop on the day it was handed off to me. You’ve been on my mind since then, and it only got worse the moment you stepped foot in the bakery. I would love nothing more than to help you indulge with what your heart desires. Because I desire it too.”

With my face red, and hands sweaty I laughed. In total disbelief she reciprocated those same feelings back to me. I felt complete and utter joy. More content than I ever have, just holding her hands. My thumbs rubbing over them, loving how soft they are compared to mine. This was only a small indulgence from her, but I couldn’t wait to indulge even further. Grateful that I could now indulge in Y/n whenever I wanted.

[pillsarchive]

Being with Edward on thanksgiving!

Since you aren't living together (yet) he expects you to be gone for the holidays.

He sees you standing in his doorway, nose red from the cold outside, trying to balance like six different containers of food in your arms and he almost cries right there.

"Angel? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be..... with friends? Family? Its thanksgiving."

"Eddie, you are my family. I usually have thanksgiving dinner with my parents on saturday since the roads are less crowded and I can get out of the city easier. Since you hadn't told me about going to see anyone and you uh....... dont really have a tendency to make yourself food with nutritional value - i figured I'd surprise you."

The true gravity of having someone with him on the holidays for the first time in his life doesnt hit him until you start preparing more food.

He thought that the things you brought in the tupperware containers, pie, cookies, stuffing, bread rolls, was all he was getting - not a chance.

You show up early in the morning and spend nearly all afternoon baking more. Thankfully, he didn't stay up too late streaming he isn't in his "office", so you can actually use the stove without setting anything on fire.

You make a small turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, sweet potatos covered in marshmallow, all the classics.

If he wants to help in the kitchen, you let him. He mostly sticks to stuff that's not to hard to cook (he's terrified of messing up).

After you two are done and the table is all set, you realize he's sobbing quietly and trying not to let you notice.

"Hey, honey, what's wrong?" You give him a giant ass hug to try and calm him down, this just makes him cry more.

"I just - I've just never had anyone do something this nice for me. I didn't think you'd show up at all, you're so - god, you're so special."

You spend the rest of the meal sat on the living room floor watching movies (after trying to eat at the table for a while, you both agreed that having a meal in silence with another person was a sensory hell and moved to the floor) and tangling your feet together under the big fluffy blanket over top of both of you.

The night ends with both of you cuddling on the couch, he falls asleep first and you can see that it's peaceful, no nightmares. He almost looks like he's smiling.

In the morning, you ask him if he'd like to come with you to your parents house for another dinner.

Little guy looks shocked - like someone just slapped him in the face.

"You want me to meet your parents? "

"Course, Edward. We are soulmates -" You giggle a little as you say it - he always calls you two "meant to be" - and kiss him.

When you pull away he's beaming.

"Of course! I'd love to!"

As you're cleaning up the plates and doing the dishes from last night, you catch him staring at you. He turns away quickly, blushing, and you smile at him. As he goes back to wiping down the table you can hear him whispering to himself.

"My angel."

[capuletangel]

Slow Like Honey

Inspired By The Song; Slow Like Honey

Word Count: 2333

Story Summary: Ben Solo falls into a deep obsession with the local new baker, and Ben always gets what he wants.

Tags: DEAD DOVE; Stalking, Obsession, Creepy Ben Solo, Non-Con, Bittersweet Fluff, Misogyny, Major Character Death, Dark Themes and Eventual Smut. AFAB. 

Also Posted To AO3 | Wattpad

Masterlist

Chapter One; Ben Is A Patient Man

Ben had always gone to the bakery, Lazy Loaf. Though not because he wanted to. God, no. His mother sent him once a week to get bread, maybe some sweet rolls if she asked for them. Always the same bitter old woman that served him, never offering a smile, never asking if he wanted anything else, just him buying bread and leaving.

He’d always appreciated soft spoken women, looked out for them—but after high school it went dry, only catching a brief look at a girl at a grocery store. The sightings were rare. Especially in rural texas. Leaving Ben hungry. Desperate for affection.

A long ten years had passed since high school, and he remained the same hungry man he’d been in senior year. She reminded him of how much he craved. Her weakness made Ben aware of it.

Stern and distasteful. Husky tone from all the cigarettes she’d shoved into her lungs, excessive frown-lines burnt into her face via the insufferable Texas sun, subpar bakes if you asked for Ben’s opinion and a crooked smile which revealed her cramped rotten teeth.

He’d never have gone if his mother hadn’t wanted him to. Ben would find any excuse to not visit it, resisting bile that raised in his throat at the mere sight of the wretched hag. And that was Ben being polite.

But then, the baker passed. Good riddance, Ben thought. Leaving the bleak store empty for a few months. Fading away in its cul-de-sac, surrounded by other derelict stores.

A good three months before new sage green paint layered the front of the shop, in contrast to the former beige. Delicate, trendy font spelling out ‘LOAF’ instead of the former cheesy name written in the boring, dated, comic sans font. The inside is decorated with a display, organised — cared for, soft wall lamps and a sight for sore eyes.

Poor Ben’s eyes thumped at the sight of a girl. A woman, if you will. Small, kind, sweet. Confused when he first saw her. Wondered if he were so desperate he’d formed a hallucination. If he’d gone insane from being so touch starved. So abandoned by the lack of feminine touch.

Her cheeks were rosy, plush with youth. A coating of flour smudged over her left eyebrow. Dressed in a sweater which hid underneath a linen apron, thin blue stripes contrasting against the off-white fabric. Soiled with splashes of food colourings, batters and icings, some faded — some fresh. Hair clipped up into a messy bun. A tender smile.

Instantly wrapped around her finger. She would smile at him, holding the most beautiful grin he’d ever seen. She wishes him a good day and laughs — flushes at his jokes. Nothing like the stale old woman who worked there for years beforehand. The woman who reminded him more of a man rather than any lady.

No, she was a delight. To talk to. To look at. To know. He found it hard to take his eyes off of her. Adorable. With her delicate voice, her coquettish blushed cheeks, and her bakes. Her bakes were to die for.

Far better than the previous owners. Ben found himself going bi-weekly, instead of just on his mother’s command. He’d get two Danish pastries each time. He’d go to the store hungry, but not for the baked goods. Graced by her presence. The cadences of her small talk and the dainty hands which seemed so fragile, yet made such pretty patisseries. Award worthy.

“Will that be all?” she would ask him, and he smiles every time she does. She knows his order like it’s the back of her hand, but she always insists that he should experiment, try something different. But, he refuses each time, and she still says it without fail.

She’s teasing him, he thinks. Flirting. Flirting in such an innocent way.

He looks like a mess compared to her, his dirty plaid shirts and stained jeans from working on the ranch. Huge, overly large hands that could crack her if he wanted to, but he didn’t, he reminded himself.

He wanted to see her in one of his flannels, imagining how they’d reach her mid thighs. How the material would drown her. Cover all of her, he’d be the only one to see what was beneath the material. He’d make sure of it. Protect her, even if it meant he’d have to capture her.

Of course, he doesn’t go into the bakery every day. That’d be creepy. Ben isn’t creepy. Ben is a nice guy. He just likes to see her. He wants to guard her.

Ordering the same thing each time, two Danish pastries. He isn’t sure why. Perhaps they remind him of when he first met her; they were the first things he bought. She always tells him he should change it up, that the buns are just as good, but Ben doesn’t like change, so he tells her maybe next time.

She just moved into town. He wondered why she’d come here — to this broken-down town in rural Texas. It must’ve been fate, he thought. There was no other explanation. A gift from a higher power for all the struggles he’d encountered over the last twenty-eight years. A present, just for him. But, he is also for her. A hulk of a man, though Ben was also soft. He’d hold her, soothe all her worries. Ben would take care of her.

She told him she was from Seattle. He knew little about Seattle. God, he’d barely even left Lakeridge.

He’d been to Houston a few times, and a small town near Waco for a shipment issue. She talked about how she missed the city, missed the rain, and her friends. She’d come down to live with her father — he was ill and she wanted to live a simple life with him until he passed.

That made him even more entranced by her. She cares about people and sees the best in them. She wants to nurture them. Ben wants to be nurtured by her. Have her hands run through his hair as he cuddled her. Whisper sweet nothings until they fall asleep in each other’s arms. The time would come, he knew that. He was hopeful. But most importantly, he’s patient.

Ben is a patient man. He reminds himself each time he walks into the bakery. He is a patient man. Ben had always struggled with the concept of patience, but he’d wait for her. He would wait a lifetime if it meant one day she’d be his.

She isn’t like the other girls he’s been with. She would understand his needs, understand that he cares, understand that he’d die for her. And besides, she doesn’t want any other male attention. He can see that. He knows that. He knows her. He’s always been excellent at reading people.

She wears the same sweaters for everyday of the week, organised. Like Ben. But she’s quirkier than him. Ben wears tattered flannel shirts over and over again. But, she wears unique sweaters.

Monday is a brown chunky knit. It hangs so loosely that it shows her left collarbone, and if he’s lucky, her bra strap too. When he first saw it, he had to tear his eyes from her, instead forcing himself to act as if he was interested in another loaf of bread. Imagining how soft her skin was. How she’d feel beneath him. How she’d taste.

Tuesday is a multi-colour knit. It hangs off of her in such an adorable way; she has to roll the sleeves up so they don’t dangle over her hands. That’s another thing that drives Ben into a frenzy. How tiny she is, compared to him. He works with his body all day. Heaving heavy equipment, which built up an impressive amount of muscle. She came up to his chest. So meek for him.

Wednesday is a cream cotton, she wears a turtleneck underneath it.

Thursday is another multi coloured knit, but it’s jagged and thick. She made it herself. She told him. He couldn’t contain his smile when she told him that. So feminine, baking and knitting for fun. He knew he wasn’t wrong about her. She had a nurturing energy about her, a natural caretaker.

Ben’s mother Leia wasn’t like that. He’d always craved it as a boy. Wishing that his mother could be gentle and ladylike. But she was stern. Ben broke that out of her. Eventually.

Friday is a green fluffy material. He wants to cuddle her in it, nuzzle into her chest, he finds himself leaning in sometimes when she wears it. He wants to feel her tender touch.

She is classic. Unchanging. He likes that.

She isn’t after attention. She’s herself. She laughs at Ben’s jokes. When she tilts her head back, some hair falls out of her bun and falls in front of her face. Ben wants to tuck it behind her ear for her. But, he resists, he’ll do it one day. And he’ll follow it with a soft kiss, and she will blush and kiss him back so tenderly.

Thursday is his favourite day. That’s when she’s happiest. Of course, she is always happy to see Ben. She wears her hand-knitted sweater, and it makes him feel so light. He can’t wait for her to knit him something. Even if it was the ugliest thing he’d ever seen, he’d cherish it. Cling to it. But it is closely followed by Monday. Her skin does something to him. She does something to him.

He knows she is desperate for him. Just as desperate as he is for her, but she wouldn’t make a move because she thinks Ben would say no. He knows she feels that way because of how shy she is. Submission runs off of her.

“Hey kid,” he hums as he sees her, swiftly running his eyes over every inch of her, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide the semi he gets from the excitement of her presence.

Whenever he sees her, it’s like time is standing still. He basks in her presence. He wants to stand in that bakery for hours, watching her knead bread, glaze buns, and decorate the small cupcakes she makes. Watching as she smiles as he talks to her. She blushes easily.

“Hey stranger,” she flashed him an angelic smile. Sometimes Ben wonders if she is an angel, so delicate and talented. “I have no idea what you’ll order,” she taunts. She’s so horny for him. He knows it. He almost doubles over as she speaks, but he plays it cool, raising an eyebrow and playing along with her flirting.

“What do you think would best suit me, ma’am?”

“Well, I’d love to encourage some experimentation, we have cherry turnovers this morning—fresh out of the oven—fruit tarts, eclairs, apple strudels, but...” she’d already made her way over to the danish pastries, sliding two into a brown paper bag, “I think that you’re a classical man, unchanging, old-fashioned... so I’m going to make the brave decision of handing you some danish pastries, is that completely outspoken?”

Ben looks at her with fake disgust, clutching a hand to his chest, taking the bag she passed him and peering inside with a grimace. “I can not believe that you would lower me to a danish pastry.”

There it was, that laugh. Tilting her head with a delightful giggle as her lips parted, a smile reaching her eyes.

A piece of her hair detached from the up-do, dangling in front of her face, which she tucks behind her ear, looking up at Ben with an expression that made his semi turn into a full erect one. So tempted to have brushed it away with his own fingertips, feel her skin beneath his fingertips, inhale her scent—which was vanilla and lavender.

“Thank you,” he says, giving her a five-dollar note that had been crumpled in his fist due to lust and bewilderment. Wondering if she knew what she did to him, but shook off those thoughts. Of course she does. She means to. She wants to. Just as he wants her to.

It isn’t unrequited, they just both struggle with words. Two awkward people finding an interest in each other will always be difficult. But he’ll wait for when the time is right. He is a patient man. And she doesn’t want to make Ben uncomfortable. She is only twenty, after all. Still young. She feels like he’ll be disgusted. But she’ll learn he won’t. She’ll learn.

“Is that a new jumper?” He furrowed his eyebrows at the dark orange wool. It had small specks of white running through the yarn. He had never seen it before. She wore cream cotton one on Wednesdays. It upset him. She wasn’t sticking to her routine jumpers.

“Oh, this?” She smiles, running a hand over the sweater, rubbing the sleeves under her dainty fingers, “I made it the other day—I spilt something over my old cream one which was oddly a godsend, I’d just finished making this thirty-minutes before, do you like it?” God. Ben thought. He didn’t mind the change when it came to knowing she made it herself. It turned him on.

“Yeah, it’s nice—the colour suits you.” The words flew out of Ben’s mouth before he could catch them. Tensing, would she think that’s creepy?

“Thank you. Orange has always been one of my favourite colours.”

Ben nodded stiffly. It was getting harder and harder to not touch her. To ignore the ache in his groin. He is a patient man, he reminds himself. Tearing his eyes away from hers. “Thank you,” he ushered, holding up the bag, almost like it was a toast.

The bell jingled as he opened the door to leave, giving her a tight smile as he turned his head to look at her again. “Have a good day, Ben!” she called.

Even his name on her tongue made him spiral. He couldn’t wait until she was screaming it.