#lots of blooming gardens huh

[swedenis-h]

A new light

[mediumgayitalian]

part three

———

The first step should, in all likelihood, be the easiest.

(“I’m not sure this is something you can really plan,” Annabeth had suggested gently, “as much as my mother would disown me to hear it. I mean, everything I did with Percy kind of just…happened.”

���Yeah, and I’m sure the five years of pining misery and fighting off several other people — one of whom was literally me — was a real walk in the park for you.”

“…Plan on.”)

It is not the easiest.

“You’re telling me the flowers…say things.”

If Nico reaches back into the farthest recesses of his memory, as in things that are shoved somewhere between his sister’s soft sobs the one time he got sicker than he’d ever been and has ever been since and the time he’d walked in on Alecto skinny dipping in the Phlegothon, he can vaguely remember a lengthy rant from his stepmother on something called the language of flowers. He had, at that time, assumed she was simply trying to convince him that everything had voices again, and ignored her.

“Yes,” says Miranda from Demeter Cabin patiently. “Every flower has an assigned meaning. More than one, usually. You can say very rude things with flowers.”

Nico perks up, intrigued. “How do you say ‘you’re a fucking c—”

“Okay,” Jason interrupts, plastering a strained smile on his face and slapping a hand over Nico’s mouth. Nico bites him, hard, and the smile becomes even more strained. “We are actually looking for much nicer things to say with flowers. Kind things. Appreciative things. Feelings, you know. Nico?”

He lifts his hand, looking at him in warning as if Nico is going to be quelled by his Stare of Judgement, of all things. Nico stares back at him until he starts to look appropriately cowed, satisfyingly afraid of the horror that lives inside Nico’s eyes, except he — doesn’t.

He doesn’t look scared at all, actually, which is — which.

Nico takes all thoughts pertaining to the issue and shoves them away.

“I need,” he says haltingly, looking back at Miranda. She looks at him encouragingly.

She doesn’t look afraid of him, either, although she glances quickly down at the circle of grass he’s killed by virtue of standing on it and says, politely, “If you could maybe stop that, I would appreciate it.”

Nico swallows, stepping back. “Sorry.”

“No worries.” She swoops down, hands outstretched, murmuring something too soft for him to pick up. Under her gentle fingertips, the grass blooms slowly back to life, tiny strands uncurling and swelling with virility, stretching towards the sun. Even the dirt smells sweeter, like churned garden soil rather than graveyard dirt.

Something dark and bitter crawls up Nico’s throat — he will always need people to clean up after his messes. No matter how hard he tries. Miranda with the plants, Solace with every one of his endless injuries, Bianca with — everything. She cleaned up after him a lot.

She was only twenty-seven months older than him. He wonders how she would have liked being fourteen, and has to choke back the sob that tries to claw its way out of his trachea.

“Not a lot of people have flower language memorized,” Miranda says, dragging him roughly back to the present. Her large brown eyes are back to focused on him, so he forces himself into normalcy and stares back. “And it’s kind of vague, so I need something to start with. Who’s it for?”

“Classified.”

Nico considers, once again, opening up a chasm beneath his feet. His geokinesis is no bene so he’d probably take Jason and Miranda down with him, but. Necessary sacrifices, et cetera.

“Understandable,” Miranda responds without so much as a beat. Huh. Suddenly, he feels bad for considering her collateral. “Just this then: friend or foe?”

Nico looks at Jason. Jason looks back at him, like, dude, seriously. Nico scowls at him and his uselessness.

“Friend,” he says begrudingly. “…More.”

Miranda nods in understanding. “Ah. Will, then.”

Nevermind. Chasm it is.

“Man, I hoped you guys would finally do something,” Miranda continues, oblivious to the ground trembling slightly under her. (Jason, however, appears alarmed, so Nico summons a tiny skeleton hand to grab his ankle in revenge.) “I love Will to pieces, but there are only so many times I can hear him wax poetic about you before it starts to get embarrassing. When we were twelve you saved his life and he actually cried because he didn’t know how to form the words. Just weeping everywhere about your sword and your hair and how you look a little crazy when you smile in battle. Did you know there are, like, a million syllables for brown? I do. He thinks your eyes are a tie between moonstone and agate, in case you were wondering.”

“I have actually heard that,” Jason mumbles, as Nico’s brain whites out and leaves him, tragically alone, to suffer. “I thought he was just super into geology.”

“Oh, he is. He’s a little into everything. There’s a bi joke, for you.”

“Oh, ha, I get it.”

Is that his body, stranded somewhere below him? Hi, body. Good to see you. You look like hell. Feel free to summon your soul back into yourself at any time, that’d be great.

“I am generally bad at functioning,” he admits, once his essence has begrudgingly reattached itself to his cells and his blood stops ringing quite so loudly in his ears.

Miranda shrugs. “I think you’re pretty okay. Once Percy had to get five stitches on his lip because he was half asleep and mixed up his plate and pizza and bit clean through his plate. It only really needed four stitches, but Will laughed so hard he couldn’t focus right and tore the wound a tad before fixing it. By accident.”

Nico tries very hard not to picture that laughter, not to remember the first time he heard Will laugh, not the hundreds of times after; a loud sound, a musical sound, despite his insistence that he has no talents. Laughter like olive oil laughs in the pan, like wind laughs as it rushes through the poplar trees.

Jason nods sympathetically. “Mondays are hard.”

“Please,” Nico begs the both of them. The nerve he’d summoned after the encouragement of his friends is slowly leaking out of his eyeballs and soaking the ground. “I just need —”

He can’t finish that sentence, either. I need to give Will flowers so he knows I have….intentions, with him, is the most embarrassing sentence ever to be conjured by man, and if he has to say it aloud he knows his father will smite him out of pity, as is their deal. It must only be implied, and even then, he could get egged by any member of Cabin Eleven and turn into a breakfast buffet, his face is so godsdamn hot.

“Will, is, like, unbelievably dense,” Miranda says, taking pity on him. She waits for Nico to finish choking, patting him firmly on the back before continuing. “I guess that’s not fair. He can be quite observant, he just has worse self-esteem than you, even, no offense, so if you are trying to seduce him you’re going to have to be very obvious.”

The wheezing that she has just circumvented starts all over again. This time, Jason joins him. Miranda has no qualms or shame — fitting, since Nico has met her mother, who also has no shame about anything. Nico will never be able to forget that she is the goddess of fertility.

“Who the fuck said anything about seducing,” he manages, finally, lungs chilling somewhere on the grass.

Miranda ignores him. “I would usually say something simple like daisies, but they can be representative of friendship and he will for sure assume they are friendship flowers. Hyacinth can communicate a much deeper breadth of emotion, but, uh —” she glances at the Apollo cabin — “I would avoid Hyacinth.”

Nico sobers. Yeah. That would be wise.

“I think roses send a little too strong of a message for your purposes, so I’m thinking carnations. Pink ones.”

Recovering from the implications of the roses — he’s a little out of time, not stupid, he knows what they mean — he looks at her curiously. “What do pink carnations mean?”

She shrugs. “Love and affection, really. Sometimes gratitude, and in some poetry their colouring is compared to a pleased flush.”

Although he expected much more agony in this particular step of the journey (not that their wasn’t a good, healthy amount; can’t feel good feelings for too long if you’re Nico di Angelo, Cursèd, Son of Hades, Prince of the Underworld, Ghost King, Et Cetera, Et Cetera), pink carnations seem surprisingly…right. Love and affection, he can handle that, and if there’s one thing he always is, regarding Will, it’s grateful. Maybe the whole damn camp should be giving him pink carnations.

“Here.”

Sensing Nico’s hesitant acceptance, Miranda swoops down to the ground, digs around a second, shoots a quick prayer to her mother, and waits. A moment later, several blush-pink flowers shoot from the dirt, along with — Nico squints to read it — a book about the history of grain cereals. Miranda looks confused about one of those two things.

“I am constantly plagued by the Ancient Greek Theoi and their various whims,” Nico explains.

“Your life confuses me,” Miranda responds. She hands him the book and the flowers. For once, Demeter’s gift seems to be the less volatile object of the two. “I’m going to go meditate about it.”

“Good call,” says Jason.

“Thank you,” Nico calls, belatedly, to her retreating back. He glances down at the flowers in his hand. “Jason,” he says, voice strained.

He sighs. “Oh, here we go.”

“Jason, I have to move.”

“You’re fine here,” Jason says patiently. He places a hand on Nico’s shoulder and begins to steer him towards the Big House. Nico, distraught, refrains from judo flipping him into a tree.

“I ruin everything I touch, Jason.”

“You helped out with the strawberries just fine last week.”

“Strawberries are not people, Jason.”

“The kids seem to like you. You let them keep weird skulls and rocks and shit they find in the woods, and they like that.”

“Children are not completely incomprehensible sons of the sun, Jason.”

“Will likes you. By his own admission. He thinks — and I’m quoting here — that you’re gorgeous, even when you’re glaring at him and rueing your own existence.”

Nico has nothing to say to that, because he still can’t quite believe that’s true. It’s — surreal. He had no arguments against it, because he knows, objectively, that Will was not lying, and he can see, with his eyeballs, that Will smiles every time they make eye contact, unless Nico did something stupid in which case Will is huffing and muttering about patients and demigods and how increased power is directly correlated with increased stupidity.

Mostly smiling, though.

At Nico. With love and affection and oh, gods, he is going to ruin things so bad.

“Look,” Jason says, stopping them in front of the porch. Nico takes the pause with equal parts relief and panic, turning to him with the flowers clutched to his chest. “You have — issues.”

Nico blinks, waiting for more sentence. Surely that cannot be all of it.

“…Yes,” he acquiesces, when no sentence is forthcoming. “I am an interloper in this timeline. I am an omen of death. I am —”

“Gods, you’re dramatic.”

Nico agonizes.

“You will be fine, Nico, please, I don’t even know what the hang-up is. He said he likes you, there is literally not a single soul in this camp unaware about how much he likes you. Right?”

The rickety screen door of the infirmary bangs open, slamming against the frame, startling them both so hard they cause a slight earthquake.

“Oh, you got them, you got them!”

The overworked and overstressed whirlwind known as William Andrew Solace bursts out of the infirmary, tripping over his own shoes and nearly landing on his face had Jason not caught him.

“Woah, dude,” he says, steady hand on his waist. Nico reacts to that totally normally and Jason’s shadow does not at all try to swallow him. “What’s wrong?”

Will barely responds. “Nico, you are the best, I owe you forever —”

Stumbling out of Jason’s hold, he lunges over to Nico, plucking the flowers out of his hand and spinning right back to the infirmary. In total bewilderment, Nico and Jason follow him, watching as he tosses the bouquet in the air, hands glowing golden, and mutters a quick hymn. The flowers begin to droop, then wrinkle, then fully shrivel up, totally dead as they land back in his hands.

“What the fuck,” Jason whispers.

“Sun-dried is better, but I don’t have time,” Will frets. “Son of sun will have to do. Ha. You, and you, over here.” He points to the nurses desk with the yellowed stems, no trace of a question in his voice. The two of them scramble to comply, ducking under the half-door and standing awkwardly behind the counter as Will clears it off.

“That stupid prank — remind me to kill Cecil tomorrow, Nico, if you don’t mind — has three whole cabins covered in skin welts. I don’t have enough beds for them all, and they need to be quarantined, anyway. I haven’t had time to go get more ingredients in between cabins, let alone time to make more ointment.” Two massive stone mortars slam the counter, making both of them jump, followed by pestles with blunt heads roughly the size of Nico’s fist. “Pulverize the petals as fine as you can.” He splits the dead bouquet in half, handing them each six flowers each. “Petals only, no stems or seeds. I’ll be back in twenty minutes to gather it. Oh, and Nico —”

He pauses for a moment, taking a breath. Hesitantly, Nico reaches out and places a gentle hand on his wrist. Instantly, the worried line between his eyes melts away, and he smiles; tired but radiant.

“I owe you one,” he says softly. “You always know just what I need. I’ve been using rose, ‘cause that’s what we have, even though pink carnations is better, but we ran out an hour ago and I’ve been freaking out cause I —”

“Solace,” Nico interrupts. He squeezes gently. “Breathe.”

He does. Inhale, hold, exhale, breath tickling the hairs in Nico’s arm, causing goosebumps to bristle all over his skin. (The grateful smile pointed towards him at full power has nothing to do with that. Obviously.)

“I’m good. Just — thank you, Nico. You knew exactly what I needed.”

A loud groan sounds from somewhere to the east, in the vague direction of Cabin Ten, and Will rushes off without another word, medical bag stuffed to bursting. There’s a thump, and a quick, “I’m good!” and then the sound of running in flip-flops. Nico ducks his head to hide a smile, turning to the dried flowers.

“Well,” says Jason after a moment. “You tried.”

Nico shrugs. He starts plucking the petals off and dumping them in the mortar, Jason quick to follow his example.

“I’ll just have to try harder next time.”

———

part five

[bonny-kookoo]

Bonny!! Can we please get more Lo:Yoongi and OC? Like maybe her transition into being Queen/ or him courting her.

Him courting her is so cute honestly haha

All the workers at the palace are talking about you.

Mostly, because ever since the King had chosen you, he himself has been slowly changing. And while a lot of people were worried he might become weak after what happened during the fight with Jungkook, it's clear now that that's not the case at all.

He's just a lot calmer now, having realized that he has now a person he can find some quiet company in.

You don't expect anything from him at all- you cared for him when he was injured with hands so gentle, and you're always understanding of his rough tone and even rougher ways of handling the palace and it's daily tasks. Even though your kind despises violence, you accept that his does not, and actively uses it to solve their issues.

Yoongi, at the end of the day, is a king who earned his crown through bloodshed and death. And one day, his own will be taken the same way.

But until then, he will let himself enjoy those tender moments you're gifting him- just like today, as he has his head in your lap, both of you sitting outside in the palace gardens, birds flying overhead across the skies while the fountain runs a few meters away from you. He's rarely ever felt this calm before, your hand on his shoulder, while you let him rest for once.

Yoongi has never wanted his spot.

With his father forcefully challenging him when he was just about old enough to be considered somewhat of a man, he had no choice but to see it through- killing his father that day, cries of his mother forever edged into his mind. He doesn't know where she is today- most likely passed away already, though even if not, he'd never be able to see her again.

The partners of Kings who lost their crowns are exiled, after all.

"I'd like to offer you something." Yoongi says, eyes still closed as he speaks.

"..huh?" You wonder, unsure what he means. "Like a present?" You ask, and he nods.

"Yes. A gift." He clarifies. "I have yet to properly court you."

"Oh that's not.. that's not necessary at all." You giggle. "I'll stay with you either way, for as long as you'll want me." You tell him, and at that, his eyes open.

"I know." He responds. "But you live here now, amongst my people. And it is my people's way to properly court a partner." He explains.

"Alright, I'll accept it then." You agree, and he quiets down at that, before he moves, face turning to look up at you.

"What would you like?" He asks. "I just.. realized I do not know what you.. like, and what not." He explains, eyes moving away from yours in thought. "I should most likely.. have more conversations with you.." He mumbles to himself.

"I mean, we're talking right now?" You say, and at that, he looks at you again, before he moves to sit up next to you, seemingly searching for something in your face.

"We should.. talk more often." He says. "I enjoy talking to you."

"Me too." You say, smiling at him. "Oh, you have a petal there-" You say, moving closer to blow a stray petal from the blooming trees off of his hair- and when you move back to tell him it's gone, you're met with his eyes wide open, staring at you. "-uh.. did I do something wrong?" You ask, unsure, your words making him snap out of whatever trance he was just in.

"Are you trying to play with me?" He challenged, eyes narrowing as they stare you down.

"I- no? I just blew the petal off-" You explain yourself, when he cuts you off.

"I know that humans show affection by kissing their partners." He tells you, and at that, you realize what he probably thought you were leaning in for.

"Oh- Oh, no, I wouldn't-" You start, and his head tilts to the side at that.

"You wouldn't kiss me?" He asks, amused by the way you seem to get shy now.

"No! I would but-" You continue, and suddenly, you can make out the hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Then what is speaking against it right now?" He asks. "We are partners. I believe that this gesture is more than appropriate right now." He tells you, before he leans in now, coming closer to you. "Or maybe that could be my.. gift to you?" He proposes, and you swallow thickly, thinking about it.

You do like him. And he's right- nothing speaks against it.

"I think.. it could definitely be considered.. a gift of sorts." You say, and he smiles a little more now.

"Well then?" He says. "I need an appropriate.. demonstration." He tells you, and at that, you gather all your courage, and move forward to just peck his lips-

but he makes it clear right away, that a quick little peck was not what he was looking for.

[vagabond-umlaut]

parterre

Lord Nanami is a knight, yes. A very esteemed one at that. But does anyone know he is an impressive gardener too? Well, he is— for he is the one, who caused these many flowers of these many hues to bloom in the landscape of your heart— so much so that you've not the slightest idea on how to manage them all well.

▸ knight!Nanami x lady-in-waiting!Reader; Historical AU; Tons of Tooth-Rotting Fluff; Crushes; Pining [is it mutual, however?]; Jealousy; Misunderstandings; Teasing; Did I already say this is so sweetly fluffy, you might end up with cavities? Oh. Okay. Cool :); Reader is so terribly down bad for Nanami, it's become a matter of mild concern; She is called a harmless little nickname by the princess here; THIS FIC WAS WRITTEN AS A LITTLE CELEBRATORY GIFT TO NANAMI NATION, AFTER THE FEAST THAT JJK 2.12 WAS FOR Y'ALL ;))

▸ Behold, the thesis I mentioned to you last night, Julie my sweetest pie. 🤭🤭🤭 Hope you'll enjoy reading this! 🫶🫶 @nanamikentoseyebags

▸ I don't own the characters or image used. Divider is by @cafekitsune. Please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. Enjoy reading! ❤️

Nanami Kento is no simple man. He is one crafted wondrously by the heavens. A veritable evidence, if there ever were any, of the existence of some greater being— powerful enough to make a man such as the knight. Merciful enough to make him live in the same time frame and place as you do.

A wistful sigh falls past your lips as you begrudgingly tear your focus away from the training grounds and direct it to the scalding coffee at hand, though it takes but two mere two seconds before you find your eyes darting to the open window yet again– skimming over the many heads out there– wanting to find only one blond head– heart beating far too many beats when you hear the name of its owner being yelled out once again—

The utterance of your title in court drags you away from your frantic search, to the mildly smiling face of the princess: Sleepy, yes– But a lot more awake than she was five minutes ago. You rush to offer her your greetings, only to stop when she lifts a finger and tilts her head to the side, brows furrowed a pinch.

"That was Kento's name being hollered, wasn't it, Petals?"

You aren't certain which infuriates you more— that the princess used your childhood nickname well into your adulthood– or that she called Knight Nanami by his first name, a privilege he is known to grant to a very select few—

Compelling your face to shift into a smile, you nod. "I'm afraid it was, Your Highness."

"And was it yet another lady cheering for his victory in a match, huh?" she queries, kicking the covers off her feet and landing onto the floor with a loud thud. Wincing lightly, you quickly shake your head 'no'.

"It wasn't, Your Highness. The voice sounded much like Lord Haibara."

A quiet hum comes in response to your observation– soon shadowed over by the off-key singing of rather... indelicate songs, you're certain no one of an upbringing as royal and guarded as your princess should know— before the lyrics pause– all of a sudden– the moment she sits down at the table and looks out the window.

At the ongoing duel between Nanami and Geto, swords clanging and their bare chests shining in the early morn sun.

The very sight making every drop of blood in your vessels to rush to your cheeks, flooding them with colour– whilst your gaze roves with no trace of shame over the well-built physique of the solemn blond– lingering in particular on the toned muscle of his arms and forearms, flexing and extending as his fingers grasp the hilt of the weapon and the muscles in his legs strain against the tight fabric of his slacks, as the knight moves in a spell-binding dance of danger and tact against his opponent.

A huff of a chuckle escapes you when the former lands a solid hit on the latter; no one can match him in his prowess at wielding a sword; making a tendril of pride unfurl in the centre of your chest, only for it to shrivel in the heat of envy the princess' chortle ignites in that very same place.

You make no efforts to stop the words tumbling out your mouth next. Nor the tense frown which nestles into your tinted lips, throwing your face into lines and ridges.

"Is Lord Nanami courting you, Your Highness?"

"What!?!?" Not even an instant elapses before the exclamation leaves your listener. You continue, pretending to be unperturbed by the way innumerable shades of shock and incredulity colour her countenance.

"I mean, you call him by his first name, and he too does the same for you. Besides, the both of you have often been spotted to be strolling in the gardens together, easily chatting and smiling... not to mention the ball held last winter solstice when you two entered the ball, side-by-side— it is not only me who me who wonders so, milady," you add when you notice her back straigthening and she returning the cup to the saucer, "The court is rife with suppositions, on the nature of your relationship with Lord Nanami."

A beat passes in tense silence in response to your expressed musings— before the hush is disrupted by a very grave-sounding query, from the lady across. "What do you look for in a future life partner, Petals?"

"Me?" you ask, index finger pointed at yourself.

The princess gives a nod. "Yes, you, Your Grace."

Your nose wrinkles at such ill-considered usage of such high-ranking titles— nevertheless, you find yourself brushing those concerns away to mull over much more important matters...

A good while passes before you form a reply. Focus zeroing on a tiny coffee stain on your dress, you begin.

"Someone who is calm and collected, stoic and serious. He should be strong too, not just in brawn but in brain and matters of heart as well. He must be strict and disciplined, but must have a gentle, caring side to him too. Won't hurt if he's a traditional romantic, giving me flowers and sweet compliments instead of the terrible comments men say to the ladies these days. And..."

You trail off, losing yourself in your mind, before resuming, in a muted murmur this time, "It might be really nice if he lets me be of those few who can call him by his name– and he becomes comfortable enough, to call me by my name. And accompany me on walks in the garden in the afternoons. And perhaps, even, ask me to the balls where we may wear matching outfits, and present ourselves as a couple before all."

A hand comes to rest over your folded ones. You look up to find a bit too wide smile resting on the princess' lips. She offers your hands an easing squeeze.

Little does she know it does little to ease your turbulent emotions— a feeling which worsens with the observations she voices to you next.

"I was terrified your beautiful mind was tainted by the disease of idle inquisitiveness, as happens to most in this world with age, you know," she hums, standing up and making you sit in her chair, "I'm very glad to conclude, that's not quite the case. However– I cannot say your so lovely mind is disease-free either, my sweet Petals."

Your brows gather together in confusion as you peer at her, eyes in a narrow stare. She continues– smile growing a touch of tenderness.

"Your mind has been afflicted with the awful ailment of lovesickness. And–" she says, putting greater emphasis on her syllables, when you attempt to protest her statement, "it is usually incurable, unless very great feats of bravery are performed by the patient themselves, or in the off-chance, the fates decide to be helpful and the person behind the mess makes the first move— but I must say, Your Grace, you are very lucky to have me as your consulting physician— for I know what will provide you interim relief until either of them happens— want to know what it is?"

You take a moment to consider before returning a slow, unsure nod.

The princess beams. "It's the knowledge of the fact, there's someone who matches every criteria you mentioned, to a T— and that– he has his eyes reserved for none, except one beautiful lady-in-waiting, who stares at the training ground from the windows of the princess' room every single morning— looking as fresh and vibrant as the nickname, the princess insists on calling her."

Your friend pauses for a beat— not that you really notice it over the thrum of your blood in your ears and your heart in your chest— she inquires, "You understood the prescription, didn't you, Petals?"

A high-pitched squeal– so unseemly, so embarrassed, so jubilant– is the only response you manage, retreating into the cushion, hiding the warmth of your face and the stretch of your smile behind your palms.

▸ masterlist

[hisui-dreamer]

some more taisho jade thoughts!

in relation to this post!

notes: reader has a supernatural ability to grow any plant and make them thrive no matter the conditions, plant and fungi are kinda loped together here sorry biology people i know they're different kingdoms ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠⊙⁠_⁠ʖ⁠⊙⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

jade is super intimidating when you first meet him, you were tending to your flowers when his shadow loomed over you

when you look up, he has a closed-eye smile on his face, but you don't feel any warmth from it at all

you soon learn, after he basically hurled you up into your new life as his gardening assistant, that the young master is rarely seen showing genuine emotion, always wearing that same plastered smile on his face

and if he's not smiling politely, then he's smirking in sadistic glee

it can't be because he's a merchant, since his twin brother is all about wearing his feelings on his sleeve, so you just decided your new master was weird

i mean, what sane merchant would provide housing, food, and pay to a random florist??

but your view of him changes when you successfully propagate a new fungi that he bought in

turns out he's been struggling with propogating and germinating a lot of his purchases, so he's a bit lost as to what he's doing wrong

he's almost given up on them thinking the climate just isn't right for them to grow

but when you show him how the fungi has propogated, there's a childlike glee on his face unlike anything you've seen before, his cheeks are flushed, his eyes are sparkling with joy, he's dancing around the pot all giddy and excited, and it catches you off guard

huh, so he can make a face like that too

you find yourself more at ease with him from then on, knowing deep down he's just really passionate about his greenhouse and kind of a dork about it

as you start taking care of more and more plants, you learn so much more about the medical capabilities that the plants have

yes, that ugly root over there has insane healing properties that can restrengthen someone's immune system

when you voice your desire to tap into the medical field and help people who are suffering from health issues, jade is a bit sad but immensely proud

you were just a little flower when he met you, small but delicate, immensely pleasing to look at, and all for him to admire

but now you've grown and bloomed so beautifully that he'll have to share you with the rest of the world

nonetheless, jade is a man of weakness when it comes to making you smile, and he very quickly arranged for the leech family to open a medical department with herbal experts and doctors

the experts dry and prepare the herbs so yo won't have to worry about the processing part

it's not very businessman of him, but he makes sure the prices are reasonable and accessible to the public as per your wishes

you're grateful to the core of your heart that you met jade

after all, your special ability has finally been put to use in a way that helps a lot of people, while also keeping you relatively safe from anyone who'd take advantage of you

so you off-handedly mention to jade one day that you're incredibly grateful that you're born with your green thumb, since you met him because of it

you were too focused on trimming the plant in your hands, but if you looked up, you would have seen jade leech, the merchant that so many business partners would still get chills from with just a glance, was flushed pink completely, and not even his gloved hand covering his face could hide the sight

the very next day, he gives you an intricate hairpin, saying it reminded him of you :)

Masterlist

[watchmegetobsessed]

TRADITIONS

A/N: it was definitely time to bring our fav duo back and they are making a comeback with a very emotional little scene! special thanks to @harrysblackcoat for always brainstorming with me when it comes to this universe!

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: Your family is expanding, but Harry fears Nan won't approve it.

MORE FROM THE NAN&HARRY UNIVERSE

“H? Harry? Babe?” you call out to Harry several times before he gives sign of even hearing you.

“Huh?” he hums, eyes glued to the road ahead of him.

“Your fingers will fall off,” you say with a soft smile.

“What?” His eyebrows knit together as he glances down at his hands and realize what you were talking about. His knuckles are turning white from how tight he is gripping the stirring wheel. He loosens his hold, but you can tell he is spiraling in his head. “Sorry, what were you saying?” he clears his throat.

“Babe, why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” you chuckle, placing a gentle hand to his thigh and his hand instantly moves to grab yours and lace your fingers together.

“I’m just… nervous.”

“For what exactly?”

“I’m scared what she’ll think. I don’t… I don’t want to disappoint her with our decision, you know?” He glances at you shortly and you catch the doubt in his eyes and you wish you could just take it all away so he could finally relax.

“You should know by now you could never disappoint her, she loves you like you’re her grandson.”

“That doesn’t matter, you can still disappoint a family member.”

“Why do you think she’ll get mad?”

“Because we are messing up the order of things.”

“There’s no order.”

He gives you a look that says ‘Stop gaslighting me, it’s not the right time’ and you give up with a sigh.

“To our generation there might be no right order, but what if she’s a lot more old-fashioned?”

“It’s gonna be fine, I promise,” is all you can say. You know whatever you’d bring up he would have a hard time believing you so he won’t relax until he hears it from Nan.

He pulls up to her house and when you get out of the car he grabs your hand and holds it tight as you walk up to the front door, ringing the bell. You didn’t tell Nan you’d drop by, you wanted it to be a total surprise, though the bomb you’re about to drop on her is a lot bigger than your unannounced visit.

The front door opens and there she is, in her flowery apron, her grey hair hidden under a colorful scarf. She looks like a real life fairy godmother straight out of a fairytale.

“Oh my God! Hi!” she beams when she realizes who’s on her front steps, holding the door open for the two of you.

“Hey Nan, sorry for the surprise, hope you’re not in the middle of something important,” you chuckle as you greet her with a hug, then Harry does the same.

“No! I was just about to make banana bread, but that can wait. Come on in! You want some tea?”

It’s an oddly warm day so you settle in the garden, Nan whips out her cute little teapot with the matching cups. Her beautiful cherry tree is already blooming, pink petals shower you every time a breeze runs through the branches. The garden looks just as fabulous as always, you’ve told her many times she should take photographs and put it online, people would love them.

“Our impromptu visit has a reason Nan,” you start, Harry’s hand gripping yours tight in your lap, his nerves are on the verge of snapping, you can tell.

“Oh, I’m listening!” she smiles and you turn to Harry, silently asking if you should say it or he wants to do the talking. He nods, clears his throat and takes a deep breath as he looks at Nan.

“Um, we have decided not to have the wedding this year,” he announces and his voice lacks his usual confidence.

“Really?” Nan blinks in surprise. “Why? Is there something wrong?”

“No,” you shake your head with a genuine smile. “There is nothing wrong.”

“It’s just that… We want to have it later, because we want another person to attend.”

You chuckle softly at Harry’s shady wording, because you know Nan won’t understand it, so either way, he’ll have to say it out loud.

“Is it a friend of yours, Harry? Someone famous? When are they going to be free?” she asks, so pure and innocent.

“No, it’s not a friend. This guest we want to be there is… our… baby.”

You can tell he is holding his breath staring at Nan, waiting for her reaction as his words sink in for her, complete shock taking over her face seconds later as she clasps her hands over her mouth with a shriek.

“Oh my Lord!” she gasps and Harry is still gripping your hand, because he can’t tell if it’s a positive reaction or not. Then she jumps to her feet, her hands falling from her mouth and the widest smile spreads across her face. “A baby! You’re having a baby!” she throws her arms into the air, like an excited little child as she rounds the table to hug you and you hear Harry finally letting out the breath he’s been holding.

“Yes!” you laugh, locking her in your arms.

“Thank God! What a blessing!” she laughs with you before letting go of you and turning to Harry, who is standing there, like a lost little kid, but the moment she hugs him as well, you see him melt into her embrace. It might be the hormones or just your usual emotional self, but you need to wipe a few tears away seeing the two of them. Harry has been so stressed about sharing the news with Nan, afraid what she might think about breaking up with the traditions and having a baby before getting married. He didn’t believe she would be thrilled anyway, but now he knows he has nothing to fear when it comes to Nan.

When Nan sits back you realize all three of you have teary eyes and you can’t help but chuckle when Harry circles his arm around your shoulders and kisses the crown of your head as you lean against him.

“How far along you, Darling?” she asks, wiping her eyes behind her glasses.

“Eleven weeks. So don’t tell anyone else yet, only the closest family knows.”

“Ah how exciting!” she claps.

“So you’re not upset? About the wedding?” Harry asks, just to be sure.

“Upset? Why would I be upset?”

“It’s not quite traditional to have a baby first and then get married.”

“Traditions serve the bonding between generations. You know what’s the greatest bond to happen in a family? A new member. A baby is always a blessing and all they need is love. We have lots of love around here and that’s all that matters.”

“Nan, don’t do this to me,” you chuckle through tears, because you did not expect this answer from her.

“Get married whenever you want, Darlings. Or never. It doesn’t matter as long as you love each other. I just want to see you happy.”

“We’re happy,” Harry smiles down at you and you nod, reassuring that the feeling is mutual.

You sit there talking until the tea runs cold and the Sun starts to set over the horizon. You tell Nan about how at first you wanted to have the wedding anyway when you found out you were pregnant, but then you had a dream where you held your baby in your arms in your wedding dress and you both took it as a sign that you should wait until your family expands. Having your baby there with you would make the moment even more special. She claims she knew something changed about you when she saw you, but you know she had no clue, but you don’t go against her.

You muse about names and Nan tells you what other names she had in mind when she was having your mom, some of them catch your attention and you add to your list too.

“Nan, we have a very important task for you,” you tell her before you’re about to leave.

“Oh! Do tell me!”

“We want a gender reveal party, do you know what that is?”

“Is it a party when you tell the gender of the baby?”

“Almost,” you chuckle.

“It’s where we find out. There are some fun ways, but the most common is when they order a cake that’s neutral on the outside and the filling is either pink or blue so when they cut into it they see the color and that’s gonna be the ender of the baby,” Harry explains to her.

“That is very clever!”

“Yeah, and we want you to make our cake,” you tell her. “That means you’ll be the first person to find out the gender.”

“Oh my God! Really?” she gasps.

“Yes,” you smile at her as she pulls you into another hug.

“Only if you take this very important role,” Harry adds.

“Of course I will! You can have the party here! I’ll set everything up!”

It was the original plan too, to gather at Nan’s, a cute, intimate party with your loved ones to celebrate the new addition to your growing family.

Harry promises Nan to drop by later in the week to talk more about how gender reveal parties work and help her start the planning and then you’re on your way home. The mood in the car is noticeably lighter, Harry’s body is relaxed, he keeps one hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it every so often. You don’t talk, but the silence and the stolen looks speak for you, Nan’s words hanging there between the two of you. You can’t help but cup a hand to your stomach that’s barely showing, thinking about how loved this baby already is.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[saetgvia]

spark | wriothesley

in which you and wriothesley find an unlikely spark.

CHAPTER TWO: ARRANGED

prince!wrio x fem!noble!reader, invented country au

✧ genre: fluff, angst...? maybe...? if you squint...?, arranged marriage trope

✧ tw: usage of damn, if you see anything else lmk <3

✧ word count: 456 words (i'm SO SORRY EWOIHSFOSDL)

✧ playlist: spark - taeyeon, radio - lana del rey, deja vu - txt, darl+ing - seventeen, invu - taeyeon, agora hills - doja cat, killin' me good - jihyo, i like you (a happier song) - doja cat & post malone, fever - enhypen, eleven - ive, hype boy - newjeans, hard to love - rose, sour grapes - le sserafim, oh my god - adele, my head & my heart - ava max, nonsense - sabrina carpenter, the feels - twice, might as well - wayv

✧ pre-reading note: yo uh there might be inconsistencies between this chapter and the last one, the idea for some of this came AFTER the publishing of the prev chapter so uh yeah!

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

ii. arranged

He strides in, holding a pot of tea on an ornate silver tray that gleams in the warm light.

'Oh, no!' the queen chuckles. 'He's our teaboy. He quite likes to dress up, my ladies in waiting tell me he's quite the charmer.' You let out a shaky breath. You like the queen, she's sweet and seems to have an excellent relationship with her people. The king, too, is nothing but jovial. If you're to marry Wriothesley, at least his family is nice, and the rumours say he is too.

'No, that's Wriothesley.'

He's more ethereal than you ever could have thought. Ebony hair streaked through with silver and wearing a grey suit accented with a crimson tie, he was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. His smile, radiant enough to light up the whole kingdom, and his sweet dimples that just made him seem all the more handsome. Black studs glinted in both of his ears, giving off the impression of someone tough, but with that grin you couldn't see him as anything other than the sweetheart everyone said he was. And he's walking over to you. Uh-oh.

He takes a seat next to you on the couch, chuckling softly and aplogising for being late. He looks even more ravishing from here, and as he turns to you, you quickly turn around, suddenly very interested in your tea.

'Hello darling. Thought I was going to have to remind you to close your mouth.'

The side eye you give him was devastating. He snickers quietly at your switch up, then speaks in a rich, deep tone.

'Mother, Father, Queen Eliana, King Richard. May I take me bride-to-be on a little walk?'

Your mother giggles daintily, and your father nods his approval. As quickly as he sat down, Wriothesley stands back up and offers you a gloved hand. You take it, and your mother shoots you a glance that's both a warning and a knowing smirk at the same time.

'Shall we?'

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

The garden is absolutely dreary. Winter has hit Emeia hard, and the leaves have abandoned the fingers of the trees which arch longingly for summer. Icy white roses still bloom in early winter, and you admire their sweet aroma as you stroll around the path with Wriothesley. He's surprisingly easy to talk to, and you find yourself laughing a lot more than you thought you would, ladylike manners and covering your mouth be damned. It starts getting dark and the cold caress of the breeze makes you shiver. Wriothesley, being the gentleman he is, notices, and offers you his coat.

'No, I'm okay thanks. I think we should head inside then. And... thanks for tonight, Wrio.'

He smiles.

'Wrio, huh? I like that name.'

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

a/n: i am so so sorry that this is insanely short but i'm running low on motivation :/ i promise i'll get more out soon even if there's a bunch of short parts pls don't hate me :P

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

taglist: @reimiiko, @whiskey-19

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

please like and reblog my work! tumblr relies on reblogs to function, so help my work be seen by more people <3 my spark taglist and overall is now open, drop an ask if you want to be added! just specify which one.

© saetgvia 2024. do not copy or repost.

[maeleelee]

Bios Betas

masterlist

Jisung had to wait around for Hyunjin, who was training with Changbin, but giggled pulling him towards the room. “I’m doing recordings for all the new comers so they know who everyone is. Everyone,” he giggled, “this is Hyunjin! He’s one of betas. He works out with Alpha Changbin a lot!”

Hyunjin blushed, thankful that this was only a recording. “Yes I’m Hyunjin.”

Jisung smiled. “Tell them what you do, oh! and your hobbies!”

Hyunjin chuckled. “I really like to paint and dance. I like walking around our garden, it’s always blooming. Felix is my best friend and I love taking care of him with the help of Binnie." He chuckled. "I'd love to stay and talk, but I do need to get back to scouting." He told the boy, standing up and walking out the room.

Seungmin sat in the room, smirking. "Yes little one?" He asked Jisung, who was standing there blushing at the name.

“Be nice to me.” Jisung pouted. “I wanted to get a small info dump from you for the newbies.”

“Newbies huh?” Seungmin chuckled and shook his head. “I like to prank, I call Chan old because it makes him mad.”

Before he could continue, jisung pouted and shook his head. “Name and rank first.”

Seungmin laughed and nodded. “Okay little one. No need to pout at me.” He smiled. “My name is Seungmin and I’m a beta. I help Jeongin with the tech stuff when I’m not leaning the pack hunt.” He hummed. “Cameras are all around to keep the pack safe. So someone gotta watch the footage.” He stood up. “I actually got go. The hunt starts soon.” He smiled, kissing the boys head and walking out.

Jisung just needed Jeongin. He finally found the boy and smiled. “Innie!” Jeongin turned around and smiled at the boy. “Can I borrow you? I’ve been doing a small document about the pack.”

Jeongin nodded. “Yeah of course.” He smiled, walking back to the makeshift room the omega made. “This is nice. You did a good job.”

Jisung blushed again. “Thank you Innie.” He smiled, sitting down and hitting record. The ‘interview’ started. Just basic questions.

“I’m Jeongin but everyone calls me Innie which I’m okay with. I’m a beta.” He hummed, thinking. “I like to dance, I’m a computer programmer. I help watch with the cameras and the pack.”

Jisung smiled and nodded. “Thank you Jeongin!” He giggled, stopping the recording and waving as he left.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Ikemen Villains - Elbert Greetia

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Expect grammatical errors. Not 100% accurate.

Kate: "Oh, those rosebuds over there are blooming already."

Elbert: "It's pink. I thought it was white."

Ellis: "It's true. It's beautiful."

Elbert and I were having tea in the garden with Ellis, who invited us.

(Time seems to flow more peacefully when I'm with these two.)

I sipped the warm cup of tea and was enjoying a peaceful afternoon, but一

Elbert: ".........."

Ellis: "El, do you want it? Should I cut everything like I did the last time?"

Kate: "What? Cut?"

(I take back what I said before. It's not peaceful at all.)

For unknown reasons, Elbert enjoyed collecting beautiful things.

His desire to collect was so weird that he would even strip this garden into nothing without hesitation.

Ellis: "As long as it makes El happy, I'm fine with it."

Kate: "But it just bloomed so beautifully."

Elbert: "Would you be sad if it got cut off?"

Kate: "Yes, I'll be sad."

Elbert: "I see."

As I anxiously watched Elbert gazing at the roses with hesitation, a black figure suddenly appeared from behind, surprising me.

Victor: "Hello, my beloved cursed ones. Kate, you're as enchanting as ever!"

Kate: "Victor? Aren't you supposed to be working at the palace today?"

Victor: “Of course, I’ve already taken care of it. I rushed here to be a part of this beautiful outing. Yup, I really am talented!”

Victor hugged Elbert’s shoulder with his right arm and Ellis’s shoulder with his left arm.

Elbert & Ellis: “........”

(Both of them are skilled at evading. I wonder if that's just the usual for them.)

It was kind of cute to see him hugging them.

Victor: “Ahem! Setting that aside, I actually have something important to discuss.”

Kate: “Discuss?”

Victor: “There’s a rumor going around among lovers in London about an organization called Amour.”

Victor: “They say that if you join the organization and have a wedding ceremony at their church, you can make your love eternal.”

Elbert: “Eternal love?”

Ellis: “That’s a beautiful claim.”

Victor: “Indeed. However, it’s concerning that the lovers who were supposed to pursue eternal love haven’t returned.”

Kate: “Huh?”

Victor: “The police speculate that the leader and several executives of the organization are most likely involved in some criminal activity.”

Victor: “The number of missing persons is too large for the size of the facility to be considered under the line of brainwashing or confinement, so they have most likely been killed.”

Elbert: “So you want to discuss the infiltration?”

Victor: “Exactly! The infiltration has been tricky, and the police investigation is facing difficulties, so Her Majesty wants the Crown to resolve the matter quickly.”

Kate: “Why is it tricky?”

Victor: “They need a couple getting married to infiltrate the organization.”

Victor: “I heard that the leader doesn’t show up unless it’s in the middle of a ceremony.”

Kate: “I see. So in order to catch the main culprit, it’s necessary to pretend as lovers and have a wedding ceremony.”

Victor: “Yes. And it looks like they need to do a lot of flirting to convince them to hold the ceremony.”

Elbert: “Flirting?”

Victor: “Demonstrating love by hugging and whispering sweet words to each other.”

Victor: “I heard that the cops who tried to sneak in were rejected after failing to do so.”

Victor: “There’s only one woman who can help us expose the true nature of Amour and bring the culprit to justice, and that is you, Kate.”

Kate: “----!”

Victor: “And the only one available right now is you, Elbert.”

Ellis: “What about me?”

Victor: “Jude told me not to include you on the mission because you have an important business meeting.”

Ellis: “I see. That’s too bad.”

Victor: “So, I’m asking you, Elbert, and Kate. What do you think?”

(I’m not sure about the “flirting” part, though.)

Kate: “If it’s a mission where people’s lives are at stake, then there’s no reason for me to refuse. I will do my best.”

(We have to do something about it.)

Victor: “Are you okay with this, Elbert?”

Elbert: “A little.”

Elbert: “Let me talk to Kate about it.”

Kate: “Elbert, what do you want to talk about?”

Elbert: “If we’re going to act like lovers, I thought it’d be better to touch you and see if it would make you uncomfortable.”

Elbert: “Once I agree, I can’t take it back, so before I do, I need to be sure.”

(Does that mean we’re going to touch each other?)

His tone seemed so casual, and he didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives.

(He withheld his response out of concern for me.)

I was surprised to see him empathize with people’s pain and grief.

Kate: “Thanks. You, too, feel free to tell me if you don’t like it.”

Elbert: “Yeah, got it. Go ahead and touch me.”

Kate: “Okay. Then if you don’t mind.”

(I knew we would do this eventually, but I didn’t expect it to be this soon.)

I wasn’t mentally prepared, but I didn’t want his concern to go in vain, so I nervously reached out my hand.

Kate: “We’ll likely hold hands, right?”

Elbert: “Yes.”

Elbert’s hand felt smooth and strangely cool to the touch.

Elbert: “We may also link arms with each other.”

I slid my hand upward, and he accepted it without flinching or resisting.

(And then, if it’s a wedding...)

The thought of kissing flashed through my mind, and I reflexively looked up.

Elbert: "----?"

(It's a fake wedding, so I'm sure things won't go that far.)

Just imagining the touch of those perfectly shaped lips made me lose my composure, and I hurriedly erased it from my mind.

Kate: "You didn't hate it?"

Elbert: "It's okay. I don't mind you touching me."

Kate: "I see. That's good."

Elbert: "Then I'm next."

Kate: "Okay. Go ahead."

Elbert placed his arm around my waist. The moment his large palm touched me, my body jumped involuntarily.

Elbert: "Did you not like it?"

Kate: "I-It's not that. I'm just nervous and sensitive."

Kate: "Please continue."

Elbert: "Okay. If you don't like it, you can always tell me."

I held my breath as he put his other hand on my cheek.

(............)

I couldn't help but notice my heart making funny noises when his jewel-like eyes looked at me up close and gently touched me as if I were a fragile thing.

Elbert: "How do you feel?"

Kate: "I'm fine."

I nodded, and he gently moved his palm away from my body.

Elbert: "Good. Then I'll let Victor know that I accept the mission."

Kate: "Yes, thank you."

(I'm glad he doesn't mind me touching him.)

(Also, I...)

I recalled him touching me and almost felt weird, so I hurriedly shook my head.

(I guess I wasn't "fine," after all.)

A few days later, we visited the church, which served as the headquarters of Amour, and the cultists reacted to him the same way other people would when they saw him for the first time.

Cultists: "........."

They were entranced by his beauty as if time had stopped.

Elbert: "Sorry, we're here to make our love eternal, but are we in the right place?"

Cultist: “A-Apologies! Welcome! Please, let us carry your bags.”

The cultists hurriedly took our bags from the carriage and carried them into the building.

(Huh?)

Kate: “Did we bring those black boxes?”

Elbert: “Yeah. It’s my stuff. Don’t worry about it.”

Cultist: “Those who wish to be married here are invited to join us for a joint garden party to confirm their love.”

Cultist: “It’s about to start, so please join us and enjoy!”

They led us to a small garden in front of the church, and we saw several lovers chatting with each other, drinks in hand.

Kate: “What do they mean by confirming their love? Are they making sure we’re not just getting carried away?”

Elbert: "Could be."

As soon as we entered, I broke out in a cold sweat at the stares directed toward Elbert.

(I hope the lovers do not break up.)

While praying for such a thing, I looked around, taking in my surroundings, and suddenly came back to my senses.

Although most people here are couples, this garden was filled with beautiful and captivating women.

(He's obsessed with beautiful things, so perhaps he's attracted to other women too?)

The words "mission failed" flashed through my mind.

(Praying for them not to break up as if it were someone else's problem was not really the time for that.)

Kate: "Elbert."

Elbert: "Hm? What is it?"

Kate: "Make sure to only look at me, okay?"

Elbert: "........."

Elbert: "That's what I intend to do."

Masterlist┆ Part 2┆Premium End┆Epilogue

[twst-drabbles]

Riddle 15

Summary: Riddle has taken to making little creatures for the garden. One of them being the hedgehogs he's spotted at one point.

It was a small little thing, little more than beetle sized. So small you could easily crush it in your palm and completely ruin Riddle's work. You would never do such a thing, but the fragility of this creation, and the fact that its been placed in your hand made the thought pop up for just a second.

It was a little plant hedgehog, at least, Riddle's recreation of it. Little leaves for feet, and a bundle of mini pink roses all blooming, all pressed together to replace the spikes, and a tightly closed rosebud weirdly shaped enough to resemble a head. The little thing had black dewdrops for eyes. Felt like it could start walking any second, honestly.

"You made this all on your own, huh?" You nudged Riddle as he stood on your knee, "It's cute. Nice job."

Riddle tilted his head up high, the dews on his rose petals practically sparking with the prideful way he held himself. It's as though he was expecting the compliment. He probably worked real hard on this little number. Well, it's nice to see that.

You patted the little back of the fake hedgehog with your thumb. If you pressed any harder, it would probably end up squished.

Riddle tapped your fingers.

"Hm?"

Riddle stepped back, putting his hands on his hips before closing his eyes. His face got all scrunched up, the petals of his dress ruffling up with the strength of his concentration.

"Don't blow blow yourself up, Riddle. You know you get sick easily." The first few days out of his rose and into the role as the lead flower, he practically terraformed your mediocre garden into the lush place it is today. The week the rolled after, Riddle was face planted into his rose, absolutely knocked out and unable to properly absorb water with how overworked his body was. Luckily that was a lesson learned.

You felt a slight tickle from your palm. Looking down, you saw the little rendition of a hedgehog take a few steps. It didn't move it's head or sniff at the air like the animal would, but it walked in the way a chubby creature would. It is wasn't perfect, but it was endearing.

When it stopped moving and held itself stiff once more, Riddle's body defaulted with a sigh. He held onto your fingers for balance.

You patted his head.

"Good job. Though, you might want to wait a little before doing that again." He's still young after all. He's got a lot of growing to do before he can't start making little creatures to add to his garden.

[dinodontwait]

Mismatched Mails

Pairing: Lee Seokmin x fem!reader

Trope: The Boy Next Door

Genre: Fluff Fluff and Fluff cause our happy virus is full of LOVE

Summary: Y/N, intrigued by a misdelivered package, encounters Seokmin, the boy next door. As they navigate the mix-ups of the mismatched mailboxes, a charming friendship blossoms. Their shared journey includes reviving a neglected garden, late-night conversations, and laughter-filled moments.

Word Count: ~1.8k

A/N : IT OUR SUNSHINE'S BIRTHDAY!!!!! I wish him all the love in this universe!!!!! Just one smile from him brightens my day I love him!!!

The unexpected package sat on my doorstep like a mystery waiting to be unraveled. Its label revealed that it was meant for Lee Seokmin, the boy next door – a neighbor I had barely exchanged more than a passing greeting with. This mishap felt like the perfect excuse to finally break the ice.

Summoning courage, I picked up the package and approached Seokmin's house. A nervous excitement tingled in my fingers as I knocked. The door opened, revealing Seokmin's warm smile. "Hi, I'm Y/N. This was delivered to my place by mistake. It's for you," I explained, extending the package toward him.

Seokmin's eyes widened in surprise as he accepted the box. "Y/N, right? Thanks a lot! I wasn't expecting anything today," he said, a grateful smile playing on his lips. It was the first time I had seen him up close, and his easy going demeanour made me feel oddly comfortable.

As he inspected the package, my eyes couldn't help but wander to our mailboxes. His, a faded red, stood next to the charming blue of mine. "Our mailboxes are quite a mismatch, huh?" I remarked, hoping to keep the conversation going.

Seokmin chuckled, a playful gleam in his eyes. "Yeah, they are. My grandpa gave me that old red one when I moved in. I always thought it added character," he shared, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

Curiosity sparked, I probed further. "Any particular reason for the blue one?"

He scratched his head, contemplating the question. "Honestly, it was the only one left at the hardware store when I moved in. Guess fate brought us these mismatched mailboxes," he mused, and our laughter echoed in the hallway.

Before I knew it, we were talking about everything from favourite books to childhood memories. As we chatted, the awkwardness dissipated, replaced by a growing sense of connection. As Seokmin closed the door, I couldn't help but smile.

The days that followed were a delightful blur of intentional mix-ups and newfound connection. Each interaction with Seokmin left me craving more, and it seemed he felt the same. Late-night conversations on the porch became our sanctuary, the only place where we could be completely ourselves.

One evening, after another successful mail exchange, we found ourselves sitting on the porch steps, surrounded by the soft glow of fairy lights. The air was filled with the subtle scent of blooming flowers, and the mismatched mailboxes stood as silent witnesses to our growing camaraderie.

Seokmin leaned back, his eyes scanning the night sky. "You know, Y/N, I never expected misdelivered mail to lead to such interesting conversations," he confessed, a playful smile playing on his lips.

I chuckled, feeling a warmth spreading through me. "Life has a funny way of bringing people together, doesn't it?"

As we continued talking, I couldn't help but notice the genuine curiosity in Seokmin's eyes. It was as if every word I said mattered, and his laughter made me feel like I was part of something special. The mismatched mailboxes became our shared secret, a symbol of the serendipity that had brought us together.

One weekend, as we tackled the neglected community garden, Seokmin's hands dirtied from planting flowers, he turned to me with a mischievous grin. "You've got a little dirt on your face," he teased, reaching over to wipe a smudge from my cheek.

I couldn't suppress the laughter that bubbled up. "Thanks, gardener boy. You've got a little something, too," I replied, returning the favor.

As we worked side by side, our laughter echoed in the garden, blending with the rustling leaves and chirping crickets. With every shared joke and every stolen glance, the connection between us deepened, like roots intertwining beneath the surface.

In a quiet moment, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Seokmin looked at me with a sincerity that took my breath away. "You make everything feel lighter, Y/N. This garden, these moments – they mean more because you're a part of them."

His words lingered in the air, and I felt a flutter in my chest. The garden, once neglected, now flourished – a testament to the beauty that could emerge from collaboration and care.

As the days turned into weeks, and our garden project flourished, Seokmin and I found ourselves drawn even closer. The mismatched mailboxes, once a source of amusement, now stood as silent witnesses to the blossoming connection between us.

One lazy afternoon, as we sat in the shade of our flourishing garden, Seokmin's fingers idly traced the patterns of the mismatched mailboxes. "You know, we've put so much effort into this garden. Maybe it's time to give our mailboxes a little makeover too," he suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A makeover for our mailboxes?"

Seokmin nodded, a playful smile playing on his lips. "Why not? It's a fun way to mark the growth of our friendship."

And just like that, we decided to switch the mailboxes – a symbolic gesture of unity and the beginning of a shared journey. As we unscrewed the mailboxes from their posts, Seokmin spoke, his voice carrying a sense of quiet excitement.

"You know, these mailboxes have seen it all – the misdelivered packages, our late-night conversations, the birth of our garden. They've been witnesses to the story of us," he said, his gaze locked with mine.

I couldn't help but smile. "Our little mismatched mailboxes have become a part of our narrative, haven't they?"

With the switch complete, the charming blue mailbox now stood next to the faded red one. It felt like a visual representation of our intertwined lives. Seokmin grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "There we go – a match made in mailbox heaven."

As we sat on the porch, admiring our handiwork, Seokmin turned to me, his expression softening. "Y/N, from mismatched mail to a shared garden, you've made every moment brighter. I cherish the memories we've created together."

His words hung in the air, and I felt a warmth spreading through me. "Seokmin, you've brought so much joy into my life. I couldn't imagine this journey with anyone else."

In that quiet moment, with the mismatched mailboxes standing as a testament to our unique story, Seokmin's hand found mine, fingers intertwining in a gentle, reassuring grip. Our eyes locked, and I could sense a vulnerability in his gaze that mirrored my own feelings. His voice, a mere whisper, carried a weight of emotions. "Y/N," he said, his breath warm against my skin, "from the first misdelivered package to this very moment, every step with you has been a treasure. I don't want to imagine this journey with anyone else."

My heart fluttered in response to his sincerity, and as he leaned in, the world around us seemed to fade away. Our lips met in a tender kiss, a fusion of shared laughter, late-night conversations, and the unspoken confessions that had shaped our connection. In that intimate embrace, the mismatched mailboxes became more than a quirky detail – they became the symbols of our journey, our resilience, and the beautifully imperfect love that had unfolded.

As our kiss lingered, Seokmin pulled back, his eyes searching mine for confirmation. "Y/N, I don't know about you, but for me, this feels like the beginning of something extraordinary. What do you say we let our story continue?"

A surge of affection overwhelmed me, and I nodded, unable to find words that could encapsulate the depth of my emotions. Seokmin smiled, a soft and understanding expression, and with our hands still entwined, we sat on the porch, the mismatched mailboxes behind us, illuminated by the soft glow of our garden.

"Here's to the future, Y/N," Seokmin whispered, his voice filled with hope and promise.

"Here's to the future," I echoed, and in that moment, beneath the stars and surrounded by the symbols of our unique love story, we embarked on a new chapter that promised laughter, shared dreams, and the beauty that comes from embracing the unexpected.

BONUS

Our home was a lively swirl of laughter and chatter as friends gathered to celebrate Seokmin's birthday. Soonyoung and Seungkwan, the dynamic duo, were in the middle of their classic bickering routine, providing the background music to our joyful chaos.

"Soonyoung, if you eat another slice of cake before the birthday boy, you're in trouble!" Seungkwan playfully scolded, brandishing a spatula as his weapon of choice.

Soonyoung grinned mischievously. "Can't resist the temptation, Seungkwan. It's for quality control purposes! Tiger never fails to check!"

Amid the banter, I searched for Seokmin, who was surrounded by friends, a warm glow in his eyes. When he noticed me approaching, a grin stretched across his face. "Hey, beautiful. What's the plan?"

Leaning in, I whispered into his ear, "I have a surprise for you. Follow me."

Curiosity sparkled in Seokmin's eyes as I led him to a more secluded corner. With a mischievous smile, I placed his hand on my stomach. His eyes widened with realization, and a mixture of emotions danced in his gaze.

"Happy birthday, Seokmin," I whispered, a teasing smile playing on my lips. "Looks like we're going to have a little someone joining our story."

His eyes filled with tears, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. "Y/N, this is the best birthday gift ever. I can't believe we're going to be parents."

As we shared the news with Soonyoung and Seungkwan, the atmosphere shifted from playful banter to heartfelt congratulations. Soonyoung's eyes widened, and he exclaimed, "Whoa, a mini-Seokmin on the way! We're going to have so much fun spoiling that kid. We can name them BooSeokSoon or better Horanghae~~"

Seungkwan giving BOObamstic a side eye to Soonyoung and his tiger agenda, added with a grin, "Congratulations, you two. Parenthood – the grandest adventure of all."

As the party continued, Seokmin couldn't stop smiling. He held my hand, his thumb tracing small circles over my fingers, a silent acknowledgment of the new chapter unfolding in our lives.

Underneath the fairy lights and surrounded by the warmth of friends, we celebrated not just Seokmin's birthday but the beginning of a journey into parenthood. As the night unfolded, I stole a moment to look outside our home. There, illuminated by the soft glow of the garden lights, stood the mismatched mailboxes side by side – a quaint symbol of the journey that had led us to this magical point in our lives. As Seokmin joined me, our fingers intertwined, we gazed at the mismatched mailboxes, a silent acknowledgment of our shared story and the beautiful chapters yet to be written. The promise of a growing family, laughter echoing through the halls, and love that would continue to flourish just like the garden we had nurtured together.

[jujumin-translates]

Event | Act 3.5 Event - NEW ERA GARDEN | Chapter 8

*Contains spoilers for Act 12 - eternal moment*

Hiro: Are we really performing here?

Kasumi: It feels kind of strange. And it’s quite spacious.

???: …Hey, it’s been a while. How’s it going, man?

Yukio: Wahh! Serizawa-san! It’s been a while!

Serizawa: I hear my grandson is now bein’ taken care of at your daughter’s theater company.

Yukio: Ehehe. He’s in my daughter's hands now.

Yuzo: You just acceptin’ it in your old age now?

Syu: Maybe he’s forgotten how to do it for himself.

Serizawa: Oi, you guys just can’t keep your mouths shut, can ya?

Kasumi: It’s good to hear that you’re doing well, Serizawa-san!

Zen: It’s like all of the original members are bein’ gathered one by one.

Serizawa: Pretty bold of ya to not have any sorta set up, though.

Yukio: I wanted to show the raw, bare state of this new theater as it was being built.

Yukio: Besides, I didn’t want to overshadow this garden, where the new flowers of the future will bloom, with a set for a play.

Yukio: So I’ve decided-- to convey the story only through the actors’ performances and the power of lighting.

Yukio: We do have a little surprise in store for the end. We wanted to do a play that was clean and simple at the very least.

Serizawa: At the very least, huh…

Yukio: The stage, the actors, the audience. Theater is possible with only those three things. I wanted to face that again…

Serizawa: Huh. Did you have some kinda change of mindset or something?

Yukio: I guess it’s just my return to work. But I was also influenced by the live delivery of the newborn troupe’s Fleur Special Award.

Yukio: Just the actors standing on stage and talking about their thoughts about their respective plays can move a lot of people’s hearts… mine included, of course.

Yukio: It kind of made me feel like I just didn’t want to lose.

Serizawa: You’re a hell of a director, as usual. That’s just who you are.

Yukio: You’re probably wondering how a father could be so easily influenced by his own child’s work, huh?

Serizawa: That’s just how things work. I’ve still got a lot to learn by watchin’ my grandson do the stage lighting.

Serizawa: Throw away your dignity and pride as a father. If you’re both in theater, there’s no such thing as being higher or lower rank.

Yukio: That’s true.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Yukio: Can you adjust that a little more, Serizawa-san?

Serizawa: Like this?

Yukio: That’s great! Perfect even!

Reni: …

Reni: (When he’s standing on stage… I can’t help but be reminded of that.)

Reni: (...Back then.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

MANKAI Company’s opening performance with the members Tachibana assembled--.

The performance was a huge success for the first performance, and there was a full house for the finale.

I was moved when I was surrounded by the warm applause under the lights at curtain call.

I was filled with an all-encompassing feeling that we had finally made it this far, that we had finally made it to the starting line as a theater company.

I looked offstage and saw Tachibana giving us a round of applause with tears in his eyes.

I’m sure that Tachibana was sharing in my joy at that moment.

But then something occurred to me.

Tachibana should be the one receiving applause, not the one giving it.

I felt like grabbing Tachibana’s arm and dragging him to the center of the stage right at that moment.

Why are we the ones standing on stage, basking in the dazzling spotlights and the applause of the audience?

He has to be the one who has the most talent out of all of us.

My irrepressible sense of frustration and impatience that I felt at that time continued to grow and grow during the short time I was at MANKAI Company.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Reni: …

Reni: (I was so naive back then…)

Reni: (But his stubbornness was also considerable. And as things are now, I’d hate to just go on and grow up and give up on him now.)

Reni: (...Unrehearsed, a one-time-only performance.)

Reni: --Hmph.

Reni: (He should get a taste of what it’s like to be on the receiving end of things for once.)

Reni: …However, there are things we have to do first.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Yukio: Well then, that’s about it for today’s rehearsal-- good work, everyone!

Syu: Good work.

Reni: Good work.

Yukio: …Hey, Reni. How about we go out for drinks today? Just the two of us.

Reni: I never thought my turn for an interview would come around.

Yukio: Isn’t it necessary? You’re an actor too, Reni.

Reni: …Let’s go out. I’ll invite you, not the other way around.

Yukio: Great!

Yukio: How about we make it a rule to each take a shot of whiskey any time we end up arguing?

Reni: What kind of drunkard’s rule is that?

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[dweakbinnie]

The Royal Game - chapter two

Hyunjin is a prince. Felix is a prince forced to be raised as a princess by his mother's wish for a daughter.

At a ball, the two meet, and Hyunjin falls in love at first sight. Hearing about their encounter, Felix's mother forces him to try and win over the Prince's approval. What will happen when Hyunjin finds out Felix's secret? Will their wedding go ahead?

Genre; romance, royalty au, fluff & angst, slow burn

Warnings; forced feminisation, gender identity issues, sexuality issues, narcissism

Chapter.List

White roses symbolise purity, youthfulness, innocence, young love, and loyalty. It is the day before the ball, Hyunjin’s last day being nineteen, the last day of his youth. I also chose it to show Hyunjin’s relationship with his cousin, Princess Hwang Yeji.

Word Count: 3.5K

Under the early spring’s mid-day sun, Prince Hyunjin sat with his cousin, Princess Yeji, under a gazebo in the royal gardens. The high winds of the past few days had weakened to a slight breeze, it was enough to keep the clouds drifting without giving them goosebumps while sheltered in the shade. A pot of tea and a selection of sweet snacks had been displayed across the glass-top table between them.

Princess Hwang Yeji—like Hyunjin—had yet to find a suitor, however, even though she had a lengthy list of suitors come to her, her father was still choosing which man he would accept her to marry, while also letting her have her own opinion in the matter. Due to Yeji being his only daughter, he had a strong bond with her and didn’t want to risk sending her off to a man he didn’t feel was worthy enough. Yeji agreed, wanting to be able to enjoy the years of her youth without worrying about starting a family.

Yeji had made her debut two months after Hyunjin, in which he waited to start his military service so he could celebrate it with her. Since the cousins only had two months between their birthdays, the two were brought up almost as siblings, spending many of their younger years together. For the civilians living in the Summer Court, the cousins were the celebrities of the royals. They could say, do, or wear something and it would become the next trend, even for the older generations.

As they’ve grown older, their time together became less frequent due to growing responsibilities in their own regions. Yet, their relationship never weakened. When Hyunjin was completing his military enlistment, it was his cousin to whom he sent the most letters. Yeji’s parents ruled a western region of the Summer Court called Dusk for its unforgettable sunsets. While Hyunjin’s parents ruled in the eastern coastal region, the capital of the Summer Court, Dawn.

Growing up, the cousins lived together in the capital and would go visit the Dusk region for holidays. Many holiday nights would be spent on the sandy shores watching as the sunset transformed the way the water glistened. Yeji’s parents saw Hyunjin as a son as did Hyunjin’s parents see Yeji as a daughter. They were a tight-knit duo who promised to always be there for each other. 

There was a third cousin, Prince Nishimura Riki. His mother was the younger sister to both their fathers’. Though, due to her marrying a King from overseas, and Riki being six years younger, he wasn’t as close as Hyunjin and Yeji were. He’d come to visit about once or twice a year, more often if there were special family occasions.

“Tomorrow’s the big day, huh?” Princess Yeji said, looking at Hyunjin over the rim of her teacup as she took a sip.

Hyunjin hummed in agreement, a not-so-excited expression on his face. In a few hours, he would start to get ready for one of the biggest events in his life. Being at the top of the social class, finding a suitor was very important as it could change the relationship between his family and the other parties—especially, as he was the Prince of a Court’s capital.

Yeji looked out over the gazebo’s banister to the nearby bed of jasmines starting to bloom. “Aunty seems a lot more thrilled.” It was a simple observation as Hyunjin’s mother had taken the reigns for most of the ball’s planning.

“I’m not surprised,” Hyunjin said, nonchalantly. Taking a bite from one of the vanilla cupcakes set out for them, he swallowed before continuing; “She’s been planning since I told her I wanted to complete my military service before marriage.”

Yeji chuckled. “You broke so many girl's hearts when the news got out after your debut. I bet many of those girls will be attending tomorrow. Saying that--” Yeji grinned as she outlined Hyunjin’s physique, “I think they’ll be drooling at the mouth when they see how the military changed you.”

“Are you trying to say I wasn’t good-looking two years ago, cousin?” Hyunjin snickered.

“Hah, of course not. It’s just that you look more manly now with all the muscle you’ve gained, whereas before, you still had that young-boy chubbiness to you.”

Hyunjin’s jaw dropped, “chubbiness?” A scoff came from behind the Prince. “Jisung!?”

“Sorry, Your Royal Highness, you were never chubby.” Jisung, Hyunjin’s personal steward, quickly replied.

Yeji raised a hand, wafting it as she spoke. “What I meant was that your face still had its… how do I put it? It’s just that you were still young and finishing going through puberty. You’ve changed a lot more physically in these last two years, though I can’t say the same about your mentality.”

Hyunjin cocked a brow, only letting her off because she’s his cousin. “I’m glad to know you love me so much.”

Yeji took another sip of her tea. “Hey, be careful. I’m here to help you find a suitor. As a woman, I understand a lot more about how my gender thinks. You’re going to have a lot of desperate women attempting to throw themselves at you tomorrow.”

“How joyful.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “I do wish I could delay this ball for longer. I’m sure you’ve been hearing the same rumours as I have.”

Yeji set her teacup down with a clink, crossing her arms over her lap. “Sadly, as the only children to the most important families in the Summer Court, we have a duty we cannot deny as much as we want to. Once you’re married, and your wife is pregnant, you’ll be able to go back to the military. Until then, it’s smiles and balls.”

Hyunjin shook his head. “Right, enough about me, how is finding a suitor going for you? Uncle has been very thorough by the looks of it.”

Yeji’s smile faded slightly at the talk of her suitor. Sighing, she leaned back against the chair. “Honestly, it’s been boring. Father has been having me meet some of the men who were brave enough to come forward at my debut ball, but there has been nothing special to them. I can’t marry a bland man. No, that’s a lie,” Yeji thought, tapping a finger to her lip, “there was one man from the Winter Court, Lord Choi Beomgyu. I did enjoy my time with him, though since he’s from the Winter Court it’s a few weeks travel for him to come down. However, Father did say that if the Lord is willing to travel all the here for me again, then he’ll set up a second meeting.”

Hyunjin leaned forward, his interest piqued. “I don’t think I remember any mentioning of a Lord Choi Beomgyu from the Winter Court. Do I mean nothing to you, to only be hearing about this man now? Enlighten me, cousin.”

“He made his debut after you’d gone to the military. If I remember correctly, he will have had his nineteenth birthday just a few days ago.” Yeji poured herself another cup of tea in an attempt to be too busy to talk more about the Lord who may have made her heart flutter.

“Then, how did you two meet since he wouldn’t have attended your debut ball?”

Only once someone reaches the age of eighteen are they able to attend all social events. Beforehand, they are usually kept out of the public’s eye. Though some like Hyunjin and Yeji would sometimes be more present.

“Well, we had never actually met in person before the first time he travelled down to meet. He did come with a wonderful selection of gifts.”

Hyunjin side-eyed, wanting her to stop wasting time by blabbering. Prince Riki had asked him to practice sword fighting later that day.

“Oi, you,” Yeji bit back, “He saw me when I was attending Prince Yang Jeongin’s debut ball. He wasn’t of age yet but apparently he attended for a while at the beginning because he and the Prince are close friends. Anyway, not long after his debut, he sent a letter to me and Father, asking for permission to court me. Father was going to deny it at first since the Lord is younger, but I managed to convince him to let me meet the Lord since none of the other men I’d met had hit expectations.”

“Prince Yang Jeongin? That’s the capital of the Winter Court’s oldest, isn’t he?” Hyunjin asked, the name sounded familiar.

Yeji nodded. “Yes. He has two younger brothers, only one is biological. The other is a cousin, but due to circumstances, he was raised as another sibling.”

Prince Yang Jeongin was the oldest child in the Moon region, the capital of the Winter Court. His debut was one of the most important on the Starean Isle, holding the same social status as Hyunjin. Prince Jeongin had one biological younger brother, Prince Yang Jungwon who was currently sixteen years of age. The other “brother”, Prince Park Sunghoon, due to make his debut in four months, was one of two cousins.

At seven months old, Prince Sunghoon’s parents died after their carriage fell off a cliff while travelling in a storm. His father was brothers with Jeongins, so he was taken in. It was also not long after Jeongin’s mother had a miscarriage and having the baby helped to ease her mind and body from the stress. Thus, Sunghoon was raised as a brother to Jeongin. Due to the rulers of the Aurora region passing, Jeongin’s father took control for the time being, saying that when Sunghoon came of age, the land was rightfully his to take back. Not many Princes were able to say that they became Kings at eighteen—at least not with a happy story.

The other cousin was Princess Song Yuqi of the Starlight region. Her mother was a sister to the Yang brothers and had one of the most notorious marriages. It was later found out after Princess Yuqi’s parent’s wedding that the two had been secretly courting before their debuts. To some it was seen as very romantic, knowing they married for love. Others found it to be disorderly and wondered what else they had done before marriage as Yuqi’s birth was exactly nine months after.

“I overheard my dad saying something about the second’s oldest debut being soon. I think he wants me to go and attend.” Hyunjin looked down as he thought. “You should go too, cousin. You might be able to see that Lord of yours again.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Yeji sighed. She wouldn’t deny that she wanted to see the Lord again. “Nothing is official between me and Lord Beomgyu. Father hasn’t even agreed to let him court me. We’ve only had one meeting.”

“And a series of letters shared.” Yeji’s handmaiden, Ryujin, added from behind, stood next to Hyunjin’s steward, Jisung. Yeji turned to her, shocked as Ryujin tried to hide a smile.

Hyunjin glanced up with a curious expression, Yeji had also kept that piece of information quiet. “So, cousin, while I was away doing my due diligence in the military, I sent you frequent letters. I told you everything about what I was doing, from when I woke to when I slept. Yet, I sit here to be finding out about this mystery Lord from the Winter Court, now? And that you were sharing letters, from your handmaiden?”

Yeji opened her mouth to defend herself when she spotted a figure walking towards them through the tulip beds, a devilish smirk on her face as she nodded towards them. “It seems that it’s time-up for our gossip with afternoon tea to be over as cousin Riki is here. It’s such a shame I can’t explain more.” Yeji stood up, patting her dress down for any possible crumbs. “I do hope you enjoy showing off your swordsmanship while I go help the Aunties with the ball’s final preparations.”

“Cousin Hyunjin. Cousin Yeji.” Prince Riki bowed as he greeted the two from the front step of the gazebo. “I’m not disturbing you two, am I?” He held a cautious gaze, not wanting to be disliked by his Starean cousins.

“Of course not.” Yeji placed a hand on the younger cousin's shoulder as she walked past. “I believe cousin will enjoy getting some energy out after sitting down with me for a boring conversation over afternoon tea and biscuits.” She winked back at Hyunjin’s glare. “I’ll see you two later then. Ryujin.” Ryujin followed Princess Yeji, making their way back into the castle. 

Hyunjin scoffed as he watched the girl’s for a second before turning his attention to Riki. “Let’s see how much you’ve improved since I last saw you two years ago.” Hyunjin patted Riki on the back as they headed towards the training grounds.

“I was twelve then, I’m fourteen now,” Riki said while walking ahead, striking through the air with an invisible sword. Making noises of his sword swishing and clashing.

Hyunjin smiled. In the two years, Riki had already grown a lot, yet he still held the same youthful behaviour from before. Seeing how Riki’s frame was long and thin, he wondered how the boy’s puberty years would treat him. He worried that his cousin could outgrow him.

“Do you want me to try and look into Lord Choi Beomgyu?” Jisung whispered while Riki was in front.

“Not for now,” Hyunjin replied, “I trust cousin Yeji.”

Jisung nodded, falling behind. “As you wish, Your Royal Highness.

Riki spun around with a toothy grin. “Cousin, why can’t I attend this ball? I know I’m not eighteen, but I’m family.”

“Exactly,” Hyunjin ruffled a hand through Riki’s hair, “it’s because you’re not eighteen. This ball will go past your bedtime, and it is about me finding a wife, so it won’t be very interesting for you. Plus, there will be alcohol involved and we don’t want what happened at Christmas to happen again, do we?”

Riki’s shoulders slumped. “It’s not like I’d be drinking it again. I’ll be responsible,” he whined.

“No can do, I’m afraid. You’re growing now, so it’s most important you get a good night's rest.”

Riki groaned, “you sound like Mother.”

“That’s because she’s right. You will have plenty of time for balls and other parties once you’re eighteen. However, right now, I want you to disarm me at least once.”

“Don’t go easy on me then.” Riki smiled, wide and proudly.

Hyunjin jabbed Riki in the rib for the cheeky comment. “Oh, I won’t.”

“Mother,” Prince Hyunjin exclaimed as he walked into her private dining room, joining her for a dinner that he originally planned to enjoy with Princess Yeji, “you look lavish.” His mother had suddenly called for him to see her, which sometimes didn’t mean anything good was to come.

His mother, Queen Hwang Hyosook, paused with her fork hovering in front of her hungry mouth. Setting her fork down, she took no time in getting to business—not even letting Hyunjin get settled in his seat. “Tomorrow is a very important day, not just for you, but also me, and your father. You cannot delay finding a wife any longer. Your mandatory military enlistment is finished, so you have no other excuses. You can spend as long as you want courting these women, I’m sure no parents would reject you, but you have to have marriage in mind. While you were away, some speculated that you do not like women because you went to the military, training with men, before finding a woman. Don’t give me that look, I know it’s not true. However, it only takes one person to say something then it’s passed around, and details get changed. Also, please don’t have a dance with Yeji tomorrow—the same thing, I don’t want people misinterpreting your relationship.”

Hyunjin choked, almost spitting out his wine. “Mother,” he sighed while dapping at the corners of his mouth with a serviette.

“I know, I know, but do you understand what I mean?” Hyunjin nodded. “Good. I will be watching, so try and make sure that the women you dance with are ones you see potential in. Many Princesses and Ladies from across Starean will be here, and a few from overseas too. However, with the rumours you’ll have heard these past few months, me and your father think it may be best you marry someone from Starean. That’s more talk for another time, is there anything else you’d like to discuss about tomorrow?” She said, picking her cutlery back up.

Hyunjin shifted in his seat. “Actually,” he started, “have you heard of Lord Choi Beomgyu from the Winter Court?”

Queen Hyosook threw her head back in a roaring laughter. “I’m guessing Yeji finally told you today,” she said, wiping a tear away from under her eye.

“You know?” Hyunjin asked, half-surprised, half-offended.

“Yes, while you were with Riki, I was hearing everything about him from Yeji and her mother. I was originally told by your father, anyway. After the Lord went to visit Dusk, your uncle wrote a letter to your father about it. The Lord seems like a gentleman. Why? Do you not like him?”

“No,” Hyunjin shook his head, “I was surprised that even though it happened months ago, cousin told me today.”

“Yeji was probably worried about how you would react; marriage is no small matter. At least she seems to have her head screwed on, probably because she hasn’t been knocked off as many horses as you.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“I’m only joking, dear.” His mother smirked, whispering under her breath; “I’m not wrong though.”

“Okay, how about this conversation topic, are there any princesses or ladies you have in mind? Like ones you already think I may be interested in?” Hyunjin was willing to hear it then instead of later. It would also give him some extra time to think, and insight when entering the ball.

His mother raised her brows, “I didn’t think you would ask that.”

“Well, is there?” Hyunjin relaxed back into his seat.

She hummed in response, finishing her mouth full. “There is. Lady Hwang Eunbi, she’s almost two years older, which four years after debut for a woman isn’t always a good sign, but she did come forward at your debut. As you will know she’s from this Court, so it is possible she could’ve been waiting for the opportunity.

“Another is Lady Lee Soojin from the Spring Court. A few months she made her debut, though I don’t know much else about her, other than she’s very pretty. However, I was surprised to hear back from the Queen of the Spring Court’s capital that her daughter, Princess Lee Felicia is attending. However, she’s known for often being ill and rarely seen outside of her home, so I don’t see her to be a good fit for you.

“Third is Princess Seo Soojin from the Autumn Court, she is also a few years older but is known for enjoying getting involved in swordfights, and drinking, a lot of drinking. She’s not a very princes-sly princess, nonetheless, I do have her as a high contender as you want to return to the military. I don’t think anyone from the Winter Court caught my eye, which may be a decent thing if Yeji and that Lord works out. Yet, things may change during the ball.”

“You seem to like the name Soojin?” Hyunjin was able to say after his mother’s rambling.

“It does mean excellence so I might as well. Obviously, these are just suggestions, you are free to choose whom you want to marry as me and your father trust you. These names are simply to help you find a starting point.”  

Hyunjin hummed, the two falling into silence as they finished their meal. He thought about the women suggested to him. Lady Hwang Eunbi, having tried to be courted by him before, had Hyunjin a little cautious about how she may behave tomorrow. He hoped that no women would get drunk enough—or the courage while sober—to literally throw themselves at him. It wouldn’t look good for either party. His mother did not say much about Lady Lee Soojin so it would be right to try and have a conversation with her, a dance too would look good. The Princess from the Spring Court sounded like she wouldn’t approach him, at least not without her mother. A Court’s capital child would be best as their social status stands highest against other royals, however, with her often being ill, maybe not so. Then Princess Seo Soojin was also someone he would make an effort to approach. It sounded like she had similar hobbies to his own, those would work as a friendly conversation starting. The Princess was also another dance partner contender. 

Time would only tell who Hyunjin fell in love with.

Author Note; thank you for making it to the end of chapter 2. please like and comment if you enjoy this fic.

Chapter.List

[psink]

Gothic - Rifuta Imu 1/2

[source]

Rifuta Imu: Kokomi-senpai~♪ Good morning!

Rifuta Imu: (Offu... She's great, perfect and beautiful today as well☆)

Teruhashi Kokomi: Good morning, Imu-chan.

Rifuta Imu: Se…Senpai, um, if it's alright with you, there's this event my friend invited me to~

Rifuta Imu: Would you please come with us!?

Teruhashi Kokomi: Eh~...Would it be okay for me to go... (What kind of event is it?)

Teruhashi Kokomi: But I already have plans for the weekend…

Saiki Kusuo: Good grief, there's a lot of noisy thoughts this morning.

Rifuta Imu: Oh! Saiki-senpai, please come too! Please!! Pretty please!!! 

Rifuta Imu: (If I can get Saiki-senpai involved, then Kokomi-senpai will surely join too...!) 

Saiki Kusuo Pretty please? No, that's impossible. This weekend, I'll be at home playing the new Asobi Boy VR game...

Rifuta Imu: At the event, they'll serve English tea and special sweets!

Saiki Kusuo: ............

???: Fufufu... A gothic event, huh? Sounds interesting.

Saiki Kusuo: It's so hot, dressed in all black…

Saiki Kusuo: What on earth is this...

Rifuta Imu: This is commonly known as "GoGoGo”.

Rifuta Imu: This event is the "Gothic Fans' Gorgeous Afternoon Gown Show & Joint Photo Session for Gentlemen and Ladies".

Rifuta Imu: It's abbreviated as "GoGoGo".

Saiki Kusuo: That's a lot of "Go"s.

Teruhashi KokomI: Sorry to keep you waiting! This is a bit...embarrassing.

Cameraman 1: Ah, excuse me! Could you please...look this way for a moment!?

Cameraman 2: Ah! Here too!!

Cameraman 3: Over here, over here!!! Huh...Maybe I used too much flash... I can only see the light source.

Teruhashi KokomI: Ahaha...(smiling) (Geez...I can't talk calmly to Saiki like this.)

Rifuta Im: Hmph... Saiki-senpai, you can go home now.

Saiki Kusuo: Huh? She invites me to this nonsensical gathering and then tells me to leave...?

Saiki Kusuo: I'll head home in a second if you give me those super sweet sweets right now.

Rifuta Imu: A single rose of light blooming in the English garden. Kokomi-senpai's white skin… The pitch-black dress that contrasts it perfectly…

Rifuta Imu: Sigh~ I'm already prepared to fuse with Kokomi-senpai.

Saiki Kusuo: Fusion? Like a combining robot or something? I can't deal with this at all…

Saiki Kuusuke: Fufufu. Having an elegant English-style tea time without me? I can't overlook this.

Saiki Kusuo: Here comes the evil demon lord.

...Continued in the 2nd half

[part 2]

[maximoffslilwitchintraining]

crowns of apple trees

Summary: Sweet and short ;) With witchy cottagecore Wanda

Words: 800

Warnings: fluffy, cottagecorewanda, fairtale vibes, mind control, aggy the cat, gn!reader

it had been warm and sunny all day so now as the sun set you wandered down to the small lake, not that far away from your home. Floating in the sparkling water you let the cool lake chill your warm skin. Just about catching the last rays of the sun, you lay drying off in the grass. It was just cosy enough that you foolishly drift off. 

When your eyes open once again you’re surprisingly not met with a star-speckled sky but rather the bright sun blinding you. You squint to protect your eyes, and soon you’re given relief as the shadow of a woman is formed above you, with crowns of apple trees, fully in bloom all around her.

She looked angelic as the sun shone through her loose button-up with her sleeves rolled saving the white fabric from the threat of a spill. Red, soft strands shaded her face as they fell out of the otherwise neatly plated hair.

“Are you alright there honey?” You blinked trying to recover.

“Where am I?” You whisper in a raspy morning voice.

“Well, it seems you’re in my garden.” She smiled.

“Oh I'm sorry” You sat up in a hurry.

“Woah, careful there.” She leaned down catching your arm in a soft grip.

“Are you alright?” Her eyes stayed on you as yours wandered through the green landscape around the two of you.

“It’s really beautiful here.” You smiled. it was almost unreal.

“Well thank you, I have been told I have a green thumb.” She smiled as your look of surprise clearly showed.

“Oh this is more than a green thumb it's almost magical. I’m impressed.” She simply smiled at that.

“Why don’t you come inside, have some tea and you can tell me more about yourself.” Your cheeks were already warm from the sun, but something about her intense eyes got you feeling warm all over. 

You followed her up a small path, where she’d now and again turn to look you over and give you a smile before continuing on. Once at the little cottage, you watched her take two steps in through the door before reaching out an open palm.

“Watch the threshold, it's easy to trip.” It wasn’t all that high but you took her hand anyway.

You let yourself explore as the woman tinkered in the kitchen. Your fingertips graced against the lace curtains before stopping at the sight of the small furball perched on the window seal,  sunbathing like she had no care in the world. which you supposed she didn’t seeing as she was a cat. 

“Aggy.” You spoke as you traced the letters embroidered on the blanket she rested on.

“short for Agatha.” The woman told you as she placed green cups on their saucers.

“She's beautiful, can I pet her?” you asked eagerly.

“Yes of course, but if you do she’ll never let you leave.” She winked, and you thought you’d happily spend forever doing just that.

“Do you take honey in your tea?” You heard her voice as you scratched Aggie's chin.

“Yes, ma’am.” You watched the cat yawn and stretch. Living the dream life you thought.

“Ma’am huh?” She laughed “I like it, but you can call me Wanda.”

“Oh, okay Wanda.” You turned to smile at her. She’d let her hair out of the braid and it was now flowing over her shoulders, just as the sun had done in the garden.

“I’m Y/N.” You get yourself seated at the table and the cat follows, hopping up into your lap and snuggling into your belly.

“While I can’t say I have a lot of visitors, she’s never taking a liking to anyone quite this much.” She smiles reaching out to pet the kitty. You swallow a bit of nervousness as you become very aware of her closeness.

“Well I like her equally:” You say those words with certainty, as you look into Wanda's eyes. She tilts her head at that watching you. A sudden sense of uncertainty hits you and your gut tells you you may have overstayed your welcome.

“I’m sorry, I should probably get going.” You shift in your seat.

“Oh, but you haven’t touched your tea.” She frowned.

“Oh, I’m sorry Wanda but I really shouldn’t bother you any longer.” You assure her. You turn your head searching for the door. The woman's palm finds your cheek and guides your eyes back to hers.

“Nonsense, won’t you stay a little longer?” Watching her green emerald eyes take a red hue, as any doubt seeped out of your body, instead becoming relaxed against the wooden chair.

“Well, I guess an hour or two won’t hurt.” Your hand went back to the soft fur of a sleeping Aggy in your lap.

“Aa, now that's what I want to hear, little one.” She basked in her triumph.

[kiljoius-writes]

Love - Distinction - Fascination

Pairing: Hinata Hyūga/Sasuke Uchiha

Summary: Hinata sometimes wonders if everything bothers Sasuke.

Word Count: 5k

Rating: General

Happy birthday to @nagareboshi-sh !!! Here is some fluffy SasuHina for you my dear. This is meant to be the start of their relationship in the same storyline as "Cooler Than Me", meaning it is a Uchiha!Survive and Neji!Survives AU :) I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful birthday, lovely!

When they were 19, Hinata and Sasuke crossed paths on their respective walks with Tenten and Naruto.

“Oh! Hey Tenten! Hey Hinata!” Naruto calls brightly, waving his hands above his head. Tenten calls back a greeting while Hinata waves shyly. Sasuke gives a simple nod of acknowledgment, which makes Tenten snort.

“It’s a nice evening for a stroll, isn’t it?” Hinata attempts conversation as they meet face to face, eyes bouncing from Naruto to Sasuke.

“Sure is!” Naruto gestures forward. “Walk together?”

“Sure, why not?” Tenten responds, nudging Hinata with her while Naruto repeats the action on Sasuke.

The four fall into step together and engage in idle chatter, though now most of the conversation is flowing between Naruto and Tenten. Prior, Naruto had been lamenting Tsunade’s recent bet losses to Sasuke, and Hinata had been telling Tenten about working in the Yamanaka flower shop. The natural course of conversation was taken over by the two extroverts, Tenten boasting her promotion to jōnin and Naruto asking Hinata if her byakugan could tell what number and symbol, say, a poker card had from the other side.

“Hey, Hinata, that’s the river with those flowers you like, isn’t it?” Tenten asks, craning her neck down to look at Hinata. Hinata looks up, curious.

“Oh, yes.” She nods with a smile, impressed with Tenten’s thoughtfulness. “I don’t think they’re in bloom yet, though.”

“They are.”

Naruto, Tenten, and Hinata all look up at Sasuke adding to the conversation.

Naruto’s the first to pipe up. “Ah, looks like you’re an expert, buddy!” He swings an arm around Sasuke’s shoulders, who looks away in annoyance. “You guys should go check ‘em out, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah! That’d be nice!” Tenten nudges Hinata’s elbow encouragingly with a sweet smile. Hinata looks up at Sasuke to find him still avoiding anyone else’s eyes, and she swallows harshly. “Go on, since Sasuke knows all about ‘em. You’ll have lots to talk about!”

With that, Naruto and Tenten shove them near each other and begin strolling away, oblivious.

“Erm,” Hinata mumbles, rubbing her upper arm nervously, “w-we don’t have to—”

“Let’s go,” Sasuke interrupts, nodding toward the direction of the river. He’s already making strides toward it and Hinata’s eyes go a little wider, finding herself left behind by…everyone, now.

“O-okay!” she calls after him in vain, jogging to catch up. Once she’s next to him, she tries to fall into step next to him, elongating her strides to match his. “Do you also enjoy flowers, Sasuke?”

“No.”

Hinata stiffens at his tart reply, bringing her hands together in front of her. Doesn’t look up to see his expression morph from one of stoicism to one that looks ever so slightly regretful.

“I mean…” Sasuke sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “They’re fine. My mom gardens.”

“Oh.” She nods her response, wondering if this is an invitation for conversation. She bites her lip before going on. “My mother gardened, too. She taught me how to press flowers.”

“…Cool.”

It’s a small win, but it makes Hinata smile. Once the river comes into view, he looks at her to see her smile widen and something turns in his brain. She gestures outwards. “You were right, they are in bloom.”

“Were you questioning me?” he asks, his tone a little softer now. She shakes her head quickly, pushes her hair behind her ears.

“I wasn’t. I was just surprised because it’s earlier than normal,” she clarifies, stopping at the bed of the river to crouch next to a patch of wildflowers. Reaching out, she cups a tall cardinal in her palm, running her thumb over the petals.

Sasuke watches her quietly, still standing back with his hands in his pockets. Honestly, he almost expects her to question how he knew they were in bloom but isn’t surprised when she doesn’t. Hinata’s always been quieter than the other girls in their class, one of the few that never bothered him. When he was younger, he wondered if she thought she was too good for him.

It was almost comical that he was maybe even a little annoyed she didn’t pay him just mind. Now that they’re adults and he knows her a little better, he’s come to appreciate that it’s just who she is. Someone who doesn’t pry, stays in their lane, and just seems genuinely authentic. So, she remains one of the few people he tolerates being around, even rather enjoys it on occasion.

Hinata, on the other hand, has always felt a little stiff around Sasuke. That’s probably normal, she figures. Most people are a little anxious to be around Uchiha’s in general, Sasuke being nowhere near the exception. It doesn’t help much that he’s not really a boy anymore, now, but a full-blown man who stands quite a bit taller and grew out of all that baby fat she used to think was cute.

In the last year, he’s softened a bit. A little less rough around the edges, easier to approach. One time, she told Ino she assumes it means he was finally exiting his teenage angst phase and Ino laughed so hard her side started cramping. Either way, she finds it easier to be around him now.

Without looking back, Hinata settles on her knees and begins humming, quietly. When she doesn’t hear him protest or snicker, she hums a little louder, smiling at her reflection in the water. She reaches down for the satchel on her thigh and tugs out a kunai. She slides it and her thumb over the stalk of one of the taller cardinals, then slices through it.

She holds the cardinal in front of her face, twirling it slowly. Her eyes drift a bit when she sees his reflection in the water now, too, over her shoulder. It’s a little unnerving that his footsteps are so impeccably light that she hadn’t even heard him crunch through the leaves, but it doesn’t take her aback. She feels his body crouch next to hers and she smiles at his reflection, holding the flower a little higher. His eyes are cast off to the side, looking at her own.

“You’re always humming something.”

Suddenly, silence fills the space between them and Hinata’s smile falls. She lowers the flower and drops her gaze. “I apologize. Perhaps we should find the others.”

Sasuke’s eyes go a little wide at her sudden attitude shift, watching her immediately come to her feet. He looks at the cardinal in her hand and sees her tuck it away in a satchel. Before he gets up to catch up with her, he leans down to pluck one of the cardinals and discreetly tucks it away in his own satchel.

And that’s how it began. At least for Sasuke, it had begun. Now Hinata Hyūga had sufficiently piqued his interest, and he went home that night and immediately asked his mom about the song he’d heard her hum.

His mother was the first and only person to ever hear Sasuke hum, and he only did it to see if she recognized the song Hinata had hummed.

Hinata would become the second and last person (as far as he was concerned) to hear it.

He sought her out the next day because he didn’t want the flower to wilt. His mom suggested keeping it in a bath of water, which did indeed keep it nice and perky, and now Sasuke Uchiha was swiftly making his way across the village to the Hyūga compound with a glass full of water and one bright, red cardinal in it.

Without so much as a glance, he brushes past the guards at the gates of the compound and makes his way straight for where he knows Hinata’s room is, knowledge of it just sort of lingering in his head until now. He knocks briskly on her door and sucks in a deep breath, wondering why his chest feels tight in this specific moment. It feels similar to the team part of the chūnin exams in the Forest of Death, when he was evading enemy attack. But this is no enemy attack.

When Hinata opens her door, she feels her jaw clench and breathing stop, all involuntarily. She immediately pulls a sheet of paper behind her and stutters out a greeting. “H-Hello, Sasuke!”

“Can I come in?” he asks, eyes immediately darting to the arm that’s curled around her back.

Her demeanor goes from panicked to calm in the blink of an eye and he tilts his head at the abrupt change. So similar to yesterday. Her thin lips go from a simple straight line to showcasing pearly teeth as she ushers him in. He watches her carefully, taking in her movements. She’s not as sneaky as she might like and he catches her pushing away a book with her foot. He doesn’t comment on it as he makes his way in, her closing the door behind him.

“What can I do for you?” she asks, airy and light as usual, and he stops in front of her for a moment to take her in. She’s in sweatpants and a tank top, clearly threw a cardigan on top for modesty sake, and has her arms crossed, looking up at him with a pouty lip.

And then it strikes Sasuke that he’d really like to know just how soft that lip is.

He pushes the thought back and holds the glass of water with a flower in it up to her, doing his best to look nonchalant. “I want to press this flower.”

“Hm?”

He lets a little chuckle go at her questioning tone, not because it’s cute, but because it’s dumb. Of course. Nothing a Hyūga does can possibly be cute. “You press flowers, don’t you?”

“Oh…I…”

“What is it? You don’t want to help me?”

Hinata carefully folds the paper in half behind her back, creasing it, and sliding it on top of her dresser. She watches his eyes carefully, and when she sees them wander to the paper, she reaches out for his shoulders. He recoils briefly, but she puts a firm hand on one and spins him around towards the door, then begins guiding him out. Ignoring the little grunt that he gives, she responds to his request, “of course, I would be happy to help you, Sasuke.”

“Then what are you—”

“I don’t have the things to press flowers in here!” she exclaims a little louder than she intends, and pulls the door shut behind her. Just as he turns to her, she plasters that smile back on her face and gestures forward. “This way.”

It now occurs to Hinata that she hasn’t had enough time to properly process what was happening. Sasuke Uchiha is inside of the Hyūga compound, came to her room, and asked her to show him how to press a flower. How bizarre…maybe it’s for his mother.

Right around the corner is a greenhouse that she leads him into, then motions for him to set the glass cup down on a little wooden table. He tilts his head at the contraption on top, setting the glass next to it as she reaches in to grasp the flower. She smiles at his curious expression, the way his eyebrows pull together, and he brings his index knuckle to his chin. She rubs her thumb against the stem of the flower and says, softly, “it’s a wooden flower press.”

“A whole contraption for pressing flowers,” he comments, experimentally twisting the handle on top. He recoils when her fingers touch his wrist, and he looks up questioningly.

She pales a little bit and clears her throat. “Sorry—just, be gentle. It’s very old.”

Sasuke grunts at that and tucks his hand away in his pocket, then watches her get it set up with parchment paper. He pays special attention to her fingers, noting the smoothness of them, the way they seem so light and precise in their movements. They gently pull the flower apart, and dab at it with a cloth, wicking away the moisture from the bath.

“Next time, you don’t have to try to preserve it,” she tells him, looking up to find his eyes locked on her hands. She curls her fingers around the petals, stopping her movements until his eyes drift up to hers. She notices the way his lips thin, and his eyes go a little wider when she speaks. She decides she likes the way his face looks when he’s not entirely sure of himself. “It’s actually better to let them dry just a bit beforehand.”

“So, we have to wait?”

She shakes her head. “No, with a press it’s still okay.” She smiles at the way he nods, blinking rapidly. Curious to see how he might respond; she outstretches a hand and curls it inward to beckon him. “Here, you can sit while you do it.”

“Me?” he questions dumbly, and she giggles. Then, something she thought she’d never see: the slightest hint of pink coming over the apples of his cheeks. He coughs into his fist and without receiving a response, he sits on the bench in front of the press. Glad he’s taking direction well enough, she leans over his shoulder and holds the flower in front of his face. He reaches up to grab it and she points at a stack of paper.

Methodically, she begins guiding him in how to open the flower, lay it properly, what type of paper is best, and of course, carefully operating the press. She holds her breath when he starts to turn the handle, pressing back the nagging urge to reach out and guide his hand to ensure he does it gently enough. She directs him in locking it up so it’ll stay in place, and they both gaze at it in silence.

She’s careful not to accidentally brush her hand against his, and Sasuke feels strange about that. He can’t quite pinpoint why, but his hands move a little more erratically when hers become closer to his. Is this how the idiot feels whenever Sakura’s around?

Broken from his thoughts by the sound of her clearing her throat, he straightens his shoulders and slides off the bench. He asks, “how long does it take?”

“Three weeks.”

“Three?” he repeats back, frowning.

“Are you in a rush?” she questions with a head tilt, crossing her arms behind her back.

He huffs, scratches the back of his neck then shakes his head. “No, I guess not.”

Sasuke leaves and Hinata feels uncertain about what just happened. But days pass without further contact, and she almost forgets the interaction even occurred.

It marks two weeks when he comes knocking on her door again, and she politely informs him that he needs to wait at least one more week. The flash of dejection on his face makes her curious as to what was so important about this flower, but she chooses not to press him about it. It’s after this that Hanabi begins teasing her about her ‘new best friend’ in the form of one Sasuke Uchiha. The day after the third week comes to an end, she expects him and chooses to clean up around the area of her unit so she can sense him coming.

Right on time, at 12:30 p.m., just like the other two days, she sees him walking up with his hands stuffed in his pockets. She sets aside the broom she had been using and offers him a wave and a smile, and he gives her that little nod upward back. They don’t even exchange a proper greeting before he starts walking down the path to the greenhouse she had taken him through. This doesn’t really surprise Hinata, because Sasuke’s always been like that, but she still finds it a little funny. People don’t normally exude so much confidence in the confines of the Hyūga compound, but Uchiha were different that way.

She stands back and decides to try not to be pushy while watching him attempt to operate the press himself.

And then it happens: one of the few times Sasuke feels complete and utter guilt.

The handle of the wooden press cracks as he tries to open it too soon.

“I—”

It’s too late, Hinata’s gasp already reaches his ears before he can try to cover it up, and she’s at his side, reaching for the broken handle. He backs away and lets her pick it up and hold it up to her face. His heart sinks when he sees tears pool at the bottoms of her eyes.

“I can – I can fix that—“ he tries, reaching for it, but she turns her back to him.

“Don’t worry about it, Sasuke,” she whispers, and the way her voice trembles sends his heart further in his gut. “Come back tomorrow, okay?”

Without another word, he takes off and does something he never thought he’d do.

Hinata feels guilty when Sasuke doesn’t return the next day. She’d been able to repair the handle fine herself and did feel bad about her reaction. It wasn’t intentional: she wasn’t trying to make him feel so horrible about it. She knew it was an accident and not a big deal, it was just an item that could be repaired. But her instinct was panic that something unrepairable had been done to her mother’s old press, which was irreplaceable. Some wood glue got the handle back on, and she decided after a few days without seeing him, she’d seek him out.

She enters the Uchiha district and briefly considers using her byakugan to look for him but decides against it. She politely asks someone in passing where she can find him, and she follows their directions with the pressed flower in hand. With a polite knock, she waits outside of his family home that she had only been to once before with her father.

“Hinata?” She’s immediately greeted by Sasuke’s dark-haired mother, who excitedly waves her in. “Come in, dear!”

“Ms. Mikoto.” She bows respectfully and toes off her sandals.

“I know what you’re here for.” Hinata’s surprised when Mikoto winks at her slyly and nudges her head for her to follow. “He’s been working hard on it. I think he’s almost done!”

Hinata processes these words but can’t for the life of her figure out what they mean, until she’s greeted with the sight of Sasuke and…Kiba.

“Hey, Hinata!” Kiba greets her, and just as he does, Sasuke, who had been crouched underneath a table, jerks up and smacks his head right into it. He groans and Kiba laughs.

“Shit – what are you doing here?”

“Sasuke!” Mikoto scolds with a frown. He steps in front of the table, holding his arms out his sides to shield it away from their sight.

Hinata cranes her head a bit to try to see what it is he’s covering but gives up when Kiba rounds the table to stand next to him. Reluctantly, she holds up the pressed flower. “I was bringing you the flower…I fixed the press myself – there’s no long-term damage.” She tries to soften the declaration when she sees him grimace, slightly. She steps forward and holds it towards him.

Kiba snickers, “welcome to the club, bud.”

“Club?” Sasuke grunts out, slowly taking the flower.

“Mhm, Hinata only presses flowers for people she likes.” Kiba swipes at his nose and Sasuke glares at the flower now.

“Well, it was Sasuke who pressed it,” Hinata interjects, and Sasuke scoffs.

“Yeah, and broke the damn thing,” Kiba laughs. “That’s why he came crawling to me, begging, pleading—”

“Inuzuka,” Sasuke growls, and Kiba waves his hand in front of him.

“Whatever, I’ll give you two some space or whatever.”

Hinata watches in confusion when Kiba ever so casually gestures for Mikoto to follow him, who offers him tea and the door shuts behind them. She whirls back around to face Sasuke, who is clutching the paper a little harsher than he should be, and she tilts her head. “Are you okay, Sasuke?”

“I didn’t want you to…” he trails off, sucking in a harsh breath through his nose as his lips purse. “I was just…trying to make up for breaking the other one.”

Slowly, he steps aside, and her eyes grow as they set on a homemade wooden press.

Immediately, warmth spreads within Hinata’s chest and it feels like pleasant bubbling in her tummy. She steps forward, quickly, breezing past him to bend over it to inspect it further. “You made this?”

“Not really,” Sasuke admits, stepping further away, eyes fixated on the way her hair gracefully spills over her shoulder. “Your dog teammate did most of it.”

Hinata pauses, scrunching her nose slightly. She pushes her hair behind her ear and looks over her shoulder at him, pulls the corners of her lips up higher. “Please don’t call him that.”

Sasuke blinks twice, then nods. Something about the way she asks so kindly, without any snippiness to her tone like Sakura or Ino might have, makes him want to listen to her. And suddenly, he wonders what kind of hole he’s just dug himself into. He sucks in his cheek when she turns back to the flower press, satisfied with his agreement, and begins prodding and pulling at its levers.  He decides now is the time to ask, for whatever reason.

“Can you tell me what it was you were hiding from me?”

He sees her visibly lock up and he swallows harshly, wondering why. Slowly, she stands back up, hands clasped behind her back, then turns to look at him. Her lips twist to one side as she bounces on the balls of her feet. Eventually, she nods and gestures for him to follow her. She holds up a hand when he reaches out to pick up the newly built press and he stops, questioning look. “Leave it here.”

“I knew it,” Sasuke huffs, bringing his hands to his face to drag them down across it. “I knew you would have wanted something nicer, like mahogany, not pine like that idiot dog – I mean—” Hinata’s surprised at how he catches himself.

“Sasuke.” Her hand finds his shoulder and she feels him tense under her touch. She squeezes, gently, and is pleased to feel him relax under her. “Like I said, I was able to fix mine just fine…now you can have one, here.”

“You’re keeping it?” He frowns and something about the way his eyes get bigger and doughier immediately makes her feel soft inside. “Even though it’s old? And I broke it.”

“It was my mother’s,” she says, softly, without any malice in her voice, because she knows the question is innocent and doesn’t expect him to know.

“I feel like a dick now,” he whispers, his face falling further.

“Please don’t,” she insists, stepping closer, resting the other hand on his other shoulder. “Besides, this way I have a reason to come here…when I want to press flowers, and I don’t want to put stress on my mother’s…I can use this one, right?”

Silence sits as they both turn those words over.

Then she steps back, hands leaving his shoulders, and she waves him towards her. “Come with me? I’ll show you what I was hiding.”

Sasuke’s never been one to just let his feet guide him without input from his brain, but today, he is.

They breeze through the home, Hinata bidding a kind farewell to the odd scene of Mikoto and Kiba having tea, and she takes him back to the Hyūga compound.

It will be the fourth time Sasuke’s been in her room.

He stands awkwardly to the side as she pulls open her top dresser drawer, but his eyes never leave her. Every action, he etches into his memory, and he’s not even entirely sure why he’s doing it. All he knows is that the way she moves is so fluid, like water, or silica maybe, stuff that just feels smooth on your fingertips. That’s how he envisions Hinata, and now he really wants to know what the edges of her fingers feel like. They’re probably really, really soft.

He wills himself not to instinctively step away when she comes next to him holding a large binder. She opens it to the first page.

“Cosmos,” he breathes out on instinct and instantly her mouth splits into a beaming smile. When his eyes catch it, he feels heat in his cheeks. It burns in a good way.

“You’re well-versed in flowers,” she says, quietly, not expecting him to respond. “This was the first flower I pressed, with my mother. I was three, and she did almost all of the work, but I did spin the handle.”

“Okay…” he says, slowly, squinting at the page. He watches her grab a few pages all at once to flip. He recognizes the next flower as an Iris, and this time, she doesn’t speak. She lets him read the words below the flower in silence. In some of the prettiest handwriting he’s ever seen, he reads:

Hanabi Heiress to the Hyūga

“You did this one when she took the title?” he asks, glancing at her. Though her smile isn’t as big, it’s still there and she nods. A few more pages, and another purple flower appears. A violet, and below it:

Neji Chūnin, true to himself

Sasuke doesn’t ask about this one, this time. He knows this must have been the day Neji had defeated her in battle during the chūnin exams. How she thought of this fondly, he wasn’t sure.

Finally, she pulls the rest of the pages back and reveals the red carnation she had picked with him a few weeks ago.

Sasuke Quiet, pensive

Hinata stares at the page alongside Sasuke, not daring to look up to see his reaction. He’ll think I hate him.

“Come with me.”

She blinks up in surprise when he leaves her side so suddenly. Nervous that she has indeed upset him, she quickly folds the binder closed and tucks it away before taking off after him.

Because silence between the two seemed to just be a more comfortable state of being, they walk alongside each other quietly.

Hinata’s never been uncomfortable around Sasuke. She knows he makes lots of people uneasy, and if he’s not making them uneasy, they’re falling at his feet. There never seemed to be any in-between when it came to him, except with maybe Naruto. She’s always been on the peripheral when it came to him, friends with his team but never quite friends with him. There had seemingly been some mutual respect and understanding between them. Or at least, that’s what she thought.

As far as Sasuke’s concerned, that’s accurate. His favorite kind of people were those that were on his peripheral. Not bothering him, but also not actively making him feel like a jerk. Hinata was one of those few people whose company really didn’t bother him, and right now, he was even welcoming it.

At some point in the last few weeks, he realized it didn’t just not bother him to have her around, he enjoyed it. His lips twitching into a smile at the way she giggled, his ears feeling warm when she smiled at him, her thoughtful words that made him want to actually listen and respond.

They reach the same spot in the forest where the carnations stand a little taller than last time, and Hinata stands back as Sasuke approaches the edge of the river and sits on one of the larger rocks. She waits to see if he’ll motion her over, but instead, she hears…light humming.

Her head turns to hear it better as if she can’t believe a soft sound like that could come from Sasuke. But no one else is here, and it’s coming directly from him. So, she’s compelled to step forward to listen, realizing it was similar to what her mother used to hum. What she hums now.

Sasuke keeps his eyes locked on the water in front of him, not on his own reflection, but on hers. Even with the way the water ripples, twisting the image as it does, he can see her big, pearlescent eyes get even bigger, and he continues forcing air through his nose. Her reflection gets bigger as she comes closer until he feels her next to him, and she takes a seat on the rock next to him.

Little crescent patterns of light hit Hinata’s hand as the high sun peaks through the canopy of trees, and now, that hand is covering the top of Sasuke’s, hanging loosely off his knees. The hum stops.

“That sounds like my mother’s hum,” Hinata tells him, quietly.

Sasuke stares at her hand, responding, “my mom hums it.” Then, mindlessly, he continues, “but I like it more when you hum it.”

Like statues, they freeze in place.

It’s Hinata who moves first, but Sasuke moves quicker. Their eyes close, their noses bump and their lips brush against one another.

Hinata feels her heart race and fingers tingle. Sasuke’s hand turns and his fingers lace with hers.

She pulls away first, eyes popping open to find his face flushed. Her free hand flies up to her cheek to cup it, feeling the heat burn through her skin to her palm.

They stay like that for a little bit, Sasuke’s eyes slowly peeling open. His nostrils flare and he questions what exactly pushed him to do it. The moment she started to lean in, it was like some sort of instinct. Almost like he wanted to…

“I won.”

Again, he’s not sure why he says it.

“You won? Won what?”

But the way it brings pink to her cheeks and smile lines next to her lips…

“I was quicker.”

Really, she’s not sure how those words can sound so adorably ridiculous.

“You won…being quicker to kiss?”

But she does, and she likes the way her cheeks feel when they’re sore from smiling.

“Yeah…I won.”

They both know one thing.

“And…what is it, that you win, Sasuke?”

They both really like that hum.