#some sound really fancy but are just common garden flowers

[hekateinhell]

thinking of that one line in TDM where daniel remembers "that in the language of an ancient people the word for flowers was the same as the word for blood", and i'm curious if anyone ever dug around for what specific language (or subset of languages) he might have been referring to... do you have any leads?

They stood beneath the dead tree twined full of airy purple wisteria blossoms. And the blossoms stroked his face, the clusters of waxy petals. Something came back to him, something he had known long ago-that in the language of an ancient people the word for flowers was the same as the word for blood.

Okay, I love both flower symbolism (as you can see here and here) and languages, so this quote rattles around in my brain every so often and for some reason I never dove into it but I did today! 

Apparently, according to some sources the word for blossom/flower and blood share a common Proto-Indo-European (PIE) root *bhel-(3).

[Bhel-(3)] forms all or part of: blade; bleed; bless; blood; blow (v.2) "to bloom, blossom;" bloom (n.1) "blossom of a plant;" bloom (n.2)

X

That is really all I could find online and I compared words in Ancient Greek, Old Arabic, and Latin — PIE is said to predate these other languages by at least a few thousand years, so those that spoke it would have truly been "an ancient people" that lived during the Late Neolithic Period.

Anne got her Masters in Creative Writing; she was even a PhD candidate at one point, so I think it's very probable that she might have come across something to do with linguistics in her research and all the time she spent in university libraries! Or maybe she just thought it sounded romantic and fanciful and she lucked out on the etymology angle (this is something I would do tbh).

But in-universe, from Daniel's POV, he likely heard it at college or from one of the many people he interviewed before meeting Louis and it flashed into his mind in the midst of the beautiful garden illusion Armand created for him during his turning.

And now I am once again emotional.

[amilst]

Digitalis, foxglove. After many years of failure, the foxgloves I planted last year have come back in beautiful form. In many parts of the British Empire, from Wales to Bowen Island, the plants self-sow and are almost invasive. Not so in Philadelphia.

The origin of the name “Digitalis” is from the German word meaning “fingerhut,” because the German botanist writing about the plant thought the tubular flowers looked like the thimbles women wore on their fingers while sewing. The origin of the common name is not so clear. One writer says it was originally “Folksglove,” because the flowers were the gloves the faerie folk wore. Another more fanciful version claims it was the local foxes who wore the flowers on their paws so they could enter the village without making a sound. The problem with both stories is that the flowers don’t really look much like gloves.

The tubular blooms, though, are spectacular. They line up on all sides of tall spikes and open from the bottom to the top. They all have these mysterious black spots, set on the bottom petal like randomly placed stepping stones leading to the back of the flower that is nearly impossible to see unless you are small enough, like a bee, to follow the stones to their destination.  Garden writers claim the spots tell the pollinators where to find the nectar but I suspect the bees can figure that out without the spots since there is only one way to go when you get inside the bloom. I think whoever designed the flower just liked the way the spots looked.

For at least a thousand years, the plants have been used for medicinal purposes, mostly to treat heart related ailments. The leaves are rubbed down to yield a green powder containing digoxin, which is something called a cardiac glycoside. This molecule supposedly inhibits the pump in cardiac muscle cells which allows the heart to work more efficiently. 

According to Welsh legend, the medicinal properties of Digitalis were discovered by a physician named Rhywallon, who was walking by a lake when a golden boat appeared out of the mist carrying a beautiful maiden. She came ashore and later married the physician and bore him three sons. When the sons were grown, she asked to be returned to the mist, which required three taps on her shoulder. When she disappeared, she left behind a golden box containing a list of medicinal herbs including digitalis with directions for their use. With this knowledge, the three sons became famous physicians.

Digoxin, however, is quite toxic if the three sons and your local pharmacist miscalculate the dose. One saying goes: “Digitalis can raise the dead and kill the living.”  It was famously the poison of choice for one Charles Edmund Cullen, a New Jersey nurse sometimes called the most prolific serial killer in American history, arrested in 2003 after a sixteen-year murder spree during which he killed hundreds of patients. 

 At a lower dose, digitalis causes one to see the world in yellow, a condition called xanthopsia. Some art historians claim this is the reason for Van Gogh’s “yellow period,” since he was taking the drug for his epilepsy. But Van Gogh was also a drinker of absinthe, made from Artemesia, another of our garden plants, and which also causes xanthopsia. Van Gogh is pictured below in a self-portrait next to some foxgloves.

[lucky-7times]

Clover-mode engaged

And there’re already the next ones, seriously Pudding share the stuff you’re smoking.

Puddings inner pot is an old, broken bird feeder, that’s why it’s transparent. His roots finally found the edge of being.

Guess they both’ll need bigger pots soon.

The jungle still ... exist. Or better said tries to. I was worrying about the roots, but they already begin to literally knot on the surface. I need to end this madness.

I also made some research:

Neither the package, nor the internet side of the garden center show what specific kinds are in this mixture, but I found a list of the seeds from annual flowers it provides and since this is an secented summer mixture of annual flowers, I was able to pick out the flower species the jungle could be made of:

Sweet sultan (amberboa moschata) german: Flockenblume

Lacy phacelia (phacelia tanacetifolia) ger: Bienenfreund

Hoary stock (matthiola incana) ger: Levkoje

Common snapdragon (antirrhium majus) ger: Löwenmäulchen

Mexican giant hyssop (agastache mexicana) ger: mexikan. Minze

Pot marigold (calendula officinalis) ger: Ringelblume

Sweet alyssum (lobularia maritima/alyssum maritimum) ger: Steinkraut

Mexican/french marigold (tagates erecta/-patula) ger: Studentenblume

Sweet pea (lathyrus odoratus) ger: Duftwicke

Wallflower (erysimum cheiri/cheiranthus cheiri) ger: Goldlack

Carnation (dianthus caryophyllus) ger: Landnelke

Sweet william (dianthus barbatus) ger: Bartnelke

I only see 5-6 species in my forest, so let’s see what they are in the end.

[peakascum]

On the Edge of Eden

@slither-in-a-half​ hope you like this love! 

Click for song inspo! Moodboard?

His eyes traced your figure in a manner that could only be interpreted as boyish. His ears turned red, voice stammering with a little treble at the end, and his feet moved as if he were a newborn foal. He lacked confidence, his posture told you so- but could you blame the kid? You carried yourself with a graceful stance as if each wave and step were predetermined with consciousness and care. You were the talk of the gala, the name that slipped during tea time, the whispers that made it to the dirtiest corners of Small Heath. The youngest of the family, as was he. Common ground, he thought.

His feet carried him across the room, arms missing his aunt’s fingers by an inch and his brother’s angry whispers for him to stay put. They wouldn't care in a second, they would go back to their champagne and pretend that new money could buy them class and a new identity. He didn't think so or even care, not really; in fact, he didn't even try to hide his brummie accent or pretend to know which fork to use during dinner, even John struggled with that. 

Your eyes had been trained on him for a while, being there to catch his missteps and the occasional excessive laugh he’d hand out before the punchline was delivered. You too were conditioned to laugh at such jokes. At the meaningless banter that resonated through parties between nobles and esteemed families who had always looked down upon new money, like the Shelbys, which set the tone for your dislike towards your kin. Your mother groomed you to be a proper lady, bred to breed the finest that England had to offer in order to purify your name and- what else? How vain. 

The littlest Shelby had stammered his way through the entirety of the gala and held improper posture, which would only, and exclusively, be rectified when you tossed a wink or a silly face in his direction. It entirely went by his family’s head, but you did receive a proper kick to the shin from yours. It was just silly banter and perhaps a tad entertaining, much to his dismay, not in a way that would embarrass him completely, but just enough to taint his cheeks and further earn a glare from his siblings. 

The sillines, although flustered him, spoke volumes as to who hid beneath the expensive jewels and stoic expression. A girl, just a girl, who was anything but proper in the most intriguing and tasteful way. And it was in that utter lack of propriety that ignited a fire in his new dress shoes and sent him treading in your direction. 

He swiped two glasses from a nearby table and situated himself beside you. With a confident smirk he thrusted the glass in your direction, only slightly coating the floor beneath you, “A lady such as yourself shouldn't be drinking alone.” 

“A lady wasn’t, you just offered me a glass.” Your brow quirked in his direction.

“Y-yes, you seemed- thirsty. Had two in hand and you, glassless, appeared- uh-��

Your grin widened and brows shot up to your hairline, “-Unsatisfied?”

“I was going to suggest bored, but unsatisfied works too.”

 You giggled and took the glass from his hand, fingers grazing his smooth ones. You wondered just then how they would feel against your body and craved the touch of his fingertips, even just the the single caress of the tips, to edge across your face, to underline the blemishes that made up your young skin and maybe even leave a mark or two if they pressed hard enough against your hips. 

“For someone who seems to have it all, ‘unsatisfied’ is an odd word to use.”

“How so?”

“You're dripping in diamonds and you seem to walk as if you’d ‘ave a gun to your head.” He said it mindlessly, unbothered even, by the mere thought that you would immediately leave after such a remark. That’s why he detested these things. Upper class women seemed to be put off by talks of guns and mud. 

“Correct,” you hummed, “or a stick right up my arse.” His eyes darted to your face and then everywhere else to see if they heard. You just scanned the room. “My blood is blue and I shit diamonds, Mr. Shelby, doesn't mean I’m happy, or content, or-“

“-or satisfied.” He finished for you, staring intently at your profile. A small smile etched itself on your lips, “Or satisfied.”

“I’m Finn,” he said thrusting his hand in your direction, “Mr. Shelby is my brother.”

“Which one?”

“All- but really the one who does seem to have a whole tree branch up his arse.” This earned a whole hearted laugh from you, prompting a small chuckle from him. He made you laugh, genuinely. You turned in his direction and took his suspended hand in yours, and shook his hand with all the seriousness you could muster. 

“Well Finnegan Shelby it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now, how about we drop this act, ditch the snobs and you show me how Small Heath does it.”

You welcomed the cold slapping of the wind as you would a warm hug. For a second, stillness and crickets. For a second, wires turned in question as to where should you go from here. Glancing towards his moonlit face you let out a heavy breath and hastily took your heals off, making you a couple of inches shorter than you already were. Finn offered you his arm for balance as the other clutched a whisky bottle he managed to snatch from the bar. With heals in hand, you raced through the filled and into the night. 

The skip in your step created a soothing rhythm with the howling wind, a melody you could get used to, one you prayed would come as often as life would allow it.

You lay on the ground surrounded by ramsons that had just started to bloom as Finn sat by your side, bending down ever so slightly to better view your features. Your hands nervously touched the diamond clad necklace that adorned your neck as you felt his eyes scan yours. For a girl whose entire life was spent under attentive eyes, his were the only ones to bring a jolt to your chest and an exuberant vitality to your entire being. 

“Watchful eyes you’ve got there.” His gaze shifted a little, as they did whenever you caught him watching.

“I can’t help myself.”

You cocked your head to the side and eyed him steadily, “Are you staring at my diamonds, Shelby? How pretty they shine under this light?”

“Shining rocks got nothing on you, love.”

“How flattering.” You scoffed. 

“You sound offended.”

“I despise lies, half truths. Men think that’s all that women want to hear. And some do, some eat it up and out of their hands as if they could never eat from their own.”

“You seem to take great interest in other’s concerns,” he said as you shook your head, “in matters and thoughts that imply your worth”

“I care not! I- I do not. It’s just a pity women are eyed like cattle and assumed to be foolish and of fallen grace!” You said, now agitated. Finn fancied the dark glow that came from your eyes, knowing he hit a nerve. You sat upright unlocking the necklace’s  hatch at the back of your neck. The rocks hit the limestone floor with a small thud no louder than that of a bird’s wings, and created a shimmering glare that adorned your face like small, expensive teardrops. 

“Your fit won’t change my mind if that’s what you're aiming at,” he provoked. You stood up with furrowed brows and hastily undid the back of your dress. His posture remained stoic but eyes widened in concern of your hurried movements. 

“What’s the matter Finn, aren’t women more rabid than men?” You chuckled as the dress slid  under the curve of your breasts, past your belly, and further pooled by your shoeless feet. Finn visibly gulped at the sight of your body in the delicate, silk slip. You stood proudly like a painting, a muse, waiting to be challenged and admired for his eyes, and only his. 

His head turned towards the house, which was only a dot in the mere distance, swallowed by music and acres of field. You stepped towards him towering over his sitting frame, took his hands in yours and placed them on your thighs, just below the seam of the slip. His cheeks turned a deep crimson that reminded you of the red pygmies that swam in the pond near your feet. “Suddenly at a loss for words, Shelby?”

He got up clumsily and towered over your body. Hands blended together in a pool of questions that should not and could not be answered with words, but with the mere touch of light grazes against his skin. How did he ever muster the courage to approach such a creature full of such beauty, whose aggressive approach to life had to be masked by the authoritarian glare of wealth and class. 

He knew where this was headed by your hurried kisses and the race of both hands. He halted your movements causing you to peer at him in a daze. “It’s not a race Y/N,” he said in a hushed manner.

“What’s the difference? You want me, you'll have me, and then leave,” you spat. 

“I want you, I’ll have you, and I’ll be back for more of you,” he paused to kiss your swollen lips, “for this,” he traced his lips over her breasts, “for more nights,” lips trailed to your belly, “no champagne, no diamonds. Just give up control, for once.” 

Your head tilted back as he nuzzled his head between your legs. His hands grazed the curves of your thighs while the wind nipped at your cheeks and flowers tickled your shins. The stars winked as the sky seemed to open up, all witnessing the spectacle that was just commencing. An exciting origin to an undoubtedly sublime love story. 

His soft fingers gripped your leg as he swung it over his shoulder, just as you imagined when you first accepted the glass in your empty glassless ones. 

Your sighs of pleasure mixed with his groans as he savored your juices, drinking you up like expensive cabernet. His tongue grazing the inside of your walls, kissing and nipping your bundle of pleasure, humming at your whines and muttering small praises full of lust and adoration. A garden of sinful pleasure built for the two.

*BONUS SCENE*

In the distance Tommy and Arthur stepped out into the balcony to get some air, the room suddenly seeming stuffed with snobs and meaningless conversation. They shared a cigarette and nursed their drinks, for a moment appreciating the quietness that spring brought every year. As Tommy dragged on about titles and politics, Arthur fixed his eyes in the distance, squinting and questioning if his mind was finally going mad. 

“Tom?” He stuttered. His brother held a hand up, “I know it’s the same shit with Mosely. Like a fuckin’ riddle-“

“Tom,” Arthur interrupted again, eyes widening as he stared at the distance. 

“No, it is! But if we ever catch-“

“Jesus fuck Tom, shut the hell up ‘bout the coppers and the bloody earls!” He said agitated. Tommy swirled his head to look at his brother’s rigid body. Arthur pointed into the distance, “There, Tom. There. By the tree, over the pond.”

Tommy followed his finger, having to squint his eyes to see the clear image.

“Fucken’ hell is that-“

“Fucken’ Finn!” Arthur cackled, choking on his own spit in the process. 

Tommy’s jaw slacked in complete and utter shock, “This fuckin’ kid I swear to God,” he muttered under his breath. Brow furrowing as his eyes scanned the property, suddenly worried that his brother’s laughter would attract attention to the scene that unfolded before them in the mere distance. “All right, all right Arthur- fuck,” he said as a small smirk formed on his stoic face. 

“Tom I can’t breath, I mean this is-“ Arthur howled, “this is almost fuckin’ biblical!”

“Arthur shh, okay okay just don’t-“

“Fuckin’ Adam and Eve shit Tom!”

[retvenkos]

“shall i capture your heart with a song?”

A/N: lol, i only know the witcher on netflix, and what i have found out about jaskier via tumblr osmosis, so how accurate is this? i guess we’ll have to see, lol.

requested HERE WE ARE, IMAGINING WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE TO BE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS TO EVENTUAL MARRIAGE WITH THE ONLY AND ONLY JASKIER....

well, seeing as jaskier is of noble birth, i’m going to say that you are, too.

your families are old friends, so when you guys first meet, (i want to say you’re like 8 or 9) it’s at some celebration or another and at first you’re a little unsure if you should talk to each other or just,,,, stand there.

one of your parents absent mindedly tells you to talk to the boy, and so you have to do the awkward introductions.

“i’m (y/n) (l/n)”

“i’m julian alfred pankratz.”

“that’s unfortunate.”

“hey!”

“don’t worry. i’ll find something better to call you.”

“yeah, well... i’ll find something better to call you.”

(sorry, guys,,,,, i still can’t get over jaskier’s real name)

the two of you decide to sneak away from your parents to get some food or something, and then you eventually decide to sneak away from the party entirely 

it was jaskier’s idea, really. he was trying to avoid some family or something - the family that thinks they are oh so better than you and compare achievements and what not...

the two of you are just wandering (jaskier’s sense of direction is horrible so it’s really up to you to keep everything straight) and you end up in some field or another, talking about whatever comes to mind. jaskier is telling you stories and you scoff.

“you’re like a weed, julian alfred pankratz. like a.... dandelion.”

“i am not!”

“what flower would you want to be, then?”

“something better than a dandelion!”

“like what, a buttercup?”

“yOU are.... are like....”

“like what?”

“...aconite! that’s a poison.”

“aconites are related to buttercups, dandelion. you can’t get rid of me.”

and jaskier thinks it’s wildly funny that you know horticulture, of all things. he finds it so funny, in fact, he fails to miss that you’ve coined a new nickname for him.

it seems that all the time, afterward, you run into jaskier and his family. by virtue of constantly seeing each other, the two of you end up being really good friends.

it’s a running gag that you love horticulture, and since the illustrious julian alfred pankratz uses it against you at every turn, you fluctuate between calling him “jaskier” and “dandelion”. he eventually gets used to it, but he hates it when others start to catch on.

he also comes up with ridiculous nicknames for you, but none of them quite seem to stick. he’s constantly cycling through through new ones, hoping to find the right one.

the two of you hang out a lot, but since you do a lot of reading or gardening and need jaskier to stop chatting with you for five minutes he picks up the lute and learns to play it really well.

you’re the first one who tells him his singing voice is quite beautiful.

“i’m sorry, did you just say my singing voice is ‘quite beautiful’?”

“it’s nice, okay?”

“nice?”

“if you keep this up, i’ll just have to insult you.”

“you’d never.”

“do you not remember the first time we met?”

“like it was yesterday.”

“i laid down some pretty decent insults, if i remember right.”

“i called you poison.”

“yeah, but aconites are pretty. unlike dandelions.”

and jaskier scoffs. “and buttercups?”

“they’re not bad looking.”

so we all know that jaskier supposedly gets into poetry when he’s 19 because he’s inspired by his love for the countess de stael,,, bUT,,,, consider this instead:

he actually gets into poetry for you.

jaskier has had a few loves at this point, and with each one, he’s a nervous wreck. you always help him by curating the most beautiful bouquets (all of which come from your amazing, thriving garden) and you are always there to help him with his flirting (which needs serious help,,,, i’m not even sure you’re cut out for the job)

you guys have probably even kissed before - both of you were regrettably drunk (don’t tell your parents) and jaskier said he desperately needed ‘the practice’. plus, he wanted to know!!!! was he a good kisser or not? no one else would rate him on a scale from 1-10 with brutal but accurate honesty! neither of you fully remember what exactly happened, come morning, but you remember the lead up to the moment and jaskier remembers the thoughts running through his head afterward... both of you agree not to speak of it.

anyway, when jaskier starts to realize that he has these awkward feelings that seem suspiciously illicit, he knows he has to get them out, somehow, but you are the only one who would listen to his complaints, and he very well can’t tell you.

so he decides he has to write them down.

but clearly they can’t be literal, lest someone stumble upon them,,,,, so he has to learn the secret art of poetry.

you, of course, notice how oddly quiet hanging out with jaskier has become, and his odd questions on flower symbolism, and it doesn’t take you long until you realize that, of all things, jaskier has turned to poetry.

“you can’t make fun of me for liking horticulture, anymore, dandelion. you’re a  p o e t .”

“at least i’m a good one.”

and you flick his forehead

“what will your stage name be? surely julian alfred pankratz won’t work.”

“which one should it be? jaskier or dandelion?”

and you laugh, the sound like a summer breeze.

“i knew you’d come to appreciate my nicknames, eventually.”

jaskier frequently “serenades” you, under the guise that he’s practicing, of course, but it’s also his not so subtle way of seeing if you like his poetry and his songs - they are for you, after all.

“you’ll certainly capture hearts with that one.”

“did i capture yours?”

and you, feeling very flustered, especially seeing as you’ve had feelings for jaskier for a while now, can only let out a guttural sort of scoff.

“of course,” and you try to say it over the top and jokingly, but you can feel your face heating up.

and jaskier winks. you huff and turn back to your books.

oh, yikes, i didn’t realize this was getting a little long,,,, let’s speed things up.

everyone knows that you and jaskier are end game. your families think it’s vvv sweet, and everyone that either you or jaskier attempt to woo know it’s only going to be a passing fancy because,,,, have you seen the way you look at each other? like you hang the moon and the stars?

but of course, both of you are dramatic as hell, so you frequently have conversations like:

“we’re piss poor in love, aren’t we?”

“i guess the world just doesn’t understand our genius.”

“terrible that i have to share this lonely cleverness with the likes of you.”

“absolutely devastating.”

and you just sit there for a while, staring at the ceiling.

maybe you guys do some traveling together for a while, but you eventually find a place to put down roots (lol, horticulture jokes). maybe you run an apothecary! that would be precious. 

either way, jaskier is a bard so when he isn’t traveling around, he’s staying with you. 

a frequent request of yours goes something like this:

“dandelion, play me a song.”

“what kind?”

“a love song.”

and he does, and afterward, he sits down across from you and winks.

“did i capture your heart with that one?”

and some nights you’re a little too tired to make a show of it and some of that blissful candor slips out and slaps jaskier across the face when you smile and say, “yes.”

if you haven’t noticed, the two of you hella dance around your feelings. it’s insane, because catchphrase is: “anything for you” meanwhile you are the most soft™ for him and yet you don’t seem to clue in.

100%, you are going to have to be the one that expresses your love first, because jaskier is the definition of suffering in silence

but what’s also really funny is you both probably try to keep it hidden just how long you have loved each other for, and yet you are both nosy as hell and want to know how long this has been going on, so it leads to really funny conversations where you are both trying to dodge giving a proper timeline, but are drying to coax one out of the other.

ohmygod, i forgot to do marriage headcanons

alright, lightning round: firstly, i don’t think it takes you guys long to get married - you have known each other for so long, and you already act like a married couple, might as well make it official

jaskier refuses to let anyone else sing at his wedding, but you eventually coax him into it because how else are you going to dance with him?

let jaskier invite all of his witcher friends. the divide between your wealthy families and the witchers would be funny as hell. like inlaws that don’t get along but wORSE.

some quick marriage thoughts:

jaskier has definitely learned the art of flowers, thanks to you, so (1) he leaves you flowers everywhere, and (2) both of you get to garden with each other all the time.

sleep and jaskier don’t mix - no matter what time of the night, you can wake up and he’s up and about, doing something or another. maybe he’s writing a song, maybe he’s eating, maybe he’s arguing with yennefer (she often visits, just to antagonize jaskier. you guys are great friends) in the livingroom and trying to keep his voice down 

similar with nicknames, jaskier is constantly using pet names, trying to decide on which one is best. it doesn’t really work out, but maybe the most common one is he’ll call you his muse.

and it only sounds cheesy 20% of the time

you guys get to go to parties together! that’s fun - you like dressing up and sneaking away half way through because you’re bored. you guys steal food and hide out until they realize the bard is missing and drag him back.

so we all know jaskier is big on compliments, and it only gets worse when the two of you are together. it’s like,,,, yes. now i can shower you with love and affection at all hours of the day, and it’s okay! he still does his poorly timed winks but he insists they’re charming!

you begrudgingly agree

consider for a moment: going to get breakfast with this man. first of all, breakfast is probably his favorite meal, and he’s always adamant you get a good one (since being with geralt means no breakfast at all). jaskier talks like you haven’t seen him in years, despite living together, and he’s very big on holding your hand or bopping you on the nose. plus, he smiles.

oh! and his singing is 100%  contagious, so it doesn’t take long before you are singing around the house, and jaskier is just stunned at you,,,, you find him staring and roll your eyes at his ridiculousness, but this man is in love!!!! let him be in love!!!!

and you also talk to your plants, so you know jaskier picks that up, to. you’re a very vocal couple, lol.

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

-- taglist: @lenalxvegood, @cooloaflandhero, @swanimagines, @multifandomfix // message me if you want to be added!

[subwalls]

Tales from the SMP Presents: The Pit

Another Tales, another Kingdom Hearts comparison post! “The Other Side” is a mix between the soundtrack The Other Promise and the cinematic “Another Side, Another Story” (both of which come from Kingdom Hearts, of course), which evokes a very specific KH character that... yeah. So let’s get into it.

Karl gets stabbed by the king’s new general and finds himself back in the Inbetween. A cool new logo pops up as we enter the Inbetween, which actually is a... very typical example of a Kingdom Hearts world logo / intro card / name card? I honestly don’t know what it’s called, it doesn’t have a name, it’s just a thing that happens every time the character enters a new world.

Castle Oblivion is just one (1) example, but if you just look up “Kingdom Hearts worlds” and scroll a bit, you’ll see what I’m talking about, haha. This doesn’t really change anything, it’s just another little wink and nod to the Kingdom Hearts series.

... Except, of course, the fact that there’s a title placard for this world implies the existence of other worlds. Which we eventually find out is, in fact, true. Fun! There’s a number of associations I could make based off the aesthetic of the logo (the castle reminds me of Radiant Garden, etc) but honestly they’re not worth much without more information.

So, the Inbetween is vividly aware of Karl’s straying from “the path”. It makes a huge attempt to still be pleasant and “nice” and whatever, but we can tell quite obviously that there’s an undercurrent of threat under all those pretty quartz blocks and smiles :]

Speaking of the :] smile, the reveal of Quackity’s previous lore stream actually doesn’t push me to think that it’s directly related to him in any way. It’s not impossible that c!Quackity achieved such heights as... becoming? The Inbetween? Because he’s got reason to be invested in Karl’s powers and keeping him in line. But it’s a reach or long-term thing at best, honestly, so I’m shelving the Quackity-smile association until further evidence appears.

(I could go bonkers and say that this is the culmination of c!Quackity’s ascension after ripping Information out of Dream or even XD, but that’s well into AU territory, so it’s all just shrug emojis for now.)

Which, of course, leads to the question of who that smile actually is associated with, and I think as clear an answer as we’re going to get is... The Inbetween itself. Clearly.

There’s a lot of meaning I could take from that; is it associated with Dream or XD then? Or maybe is it tapping into Karl’s memories of c!Dream doing the :) thing and it’s appropriating that for itself? Why? To intimidate Karl into obeying it?

Mayhaps. Mayhaps!

Anyway, Karl goes up to the tree, and as he approaches, the video feed distorts as the game abruptly switches to a higher-level shader like BSL or something.

Now, I haven’t confirmed it, but the way the audio shifts makes me think it suddenly started playing backwards, too. It’s just the way it sounds; it’s got that... sucking effect that’s pretty typical of musical tracks played backwards.

Karl swims down to the hidden room, which is very dark now. There is a book that tells him to go up the ladder for a surprise.

Also, by the way, I’m back on my wither rose pot association brainrot, because I can’t help but notice that there isn’t one here. There was one in the previous Inbetween segment, but it’s gone now. Now there’s a new book with the :] smiley, which of course should set the audience on edge, since we just saw the first book use it in a... mildly threatening manner.

We know that in Dream SMP it’s a pretty common thing to use redstone as blood. Other characters have used it in bits, some more seriously than others, and I think that’s what this room is trying to emulate.

If I had to guess, I’d... hm.

A part of me wants to say that the blood is probably from the different versions of Karl wandering around. Nobody’s going to notice if a few abruptly take a swerve to bleed themselves out in a room or something, right? But that carries a lot of implications, namely that of control so perfect it borders on possession. So either the Inbetween can control Karls, or it has some other agent capable of dragging something into this chamber to bleed it all over the room.

Neither of those options are particularly nice, I’ll admit!

There’s no Kingdom Hearts associations here, by the way. Due to being so closely tied with Disney, KH is deathly allergic to portraying blood in any way lmao. Not so many messages carved into the walls.

Or painted onto the walls with blood, if that’s what that is. Color correction gets a bit odd with shaders, so I’m not saying anything for certain; the closed books don’t look enchantment-purple, for example.

What does catch my eye are the torches, which will later be the flickering lights that guide Karl to the portal. The fact that they are here makes me think that this was definitely the scene of either a battle or some other conflict between the two sides to this story (haha, get it, Another Side, Another Story, because that’s a Thing in KH���), or at least proves that an influence from The Other Side was here at some point in time.

Karl quickly gets the fuck out of there, and when he swims back to the surface the shaders/music switch back to normal.

Oh, and for all you people who like to point fingers at anything vaguely false and scream “that’s gAsLiGhTiNg!!!1!!111″ about it, here’s an actual attempt at gaslighting. Note the language used here: “Your mind seems to be playing tricks on you :]”. It’s explicitly trying to convince him not to trust his own senses and mind. It’s saying, let me think for you. And that is a very dangerous thing.

Wither rose pot exists again, yay. Definitely a Inbetween voice, this book.

More wither rose book, this time in the, uh, grand entrance hall? The lobby? Yeah.

This book basically goes on a spiel about how the Inbetween is so great for Karl (a declaration, by the way, rather than a hope) and says that he is doubting himself or being less like himself, which is odd, because what he’s really doing is doubting the Inbetween and the path it has laid out for him. In a way, by questioning the Inbetween, Karl is being truer to himself than anything else.

The malicious way this place frames its words becomes more and more obvious with each passing page; it again reminds him that it’s a place to be “feel at ease”, which is super sketch that it has to tell him outright rather than actually being that place. It continues attempting to gaslight him, telling him that his imagination is getting away from him and that he can’t trust himself or anything else but this “path”.

I’ll get back to the “path” thing in a minute, but I really want to drive home that this is the truest instance of gaslighting we’ve ever had on the Dream SMP. Nothing has ever so clearly declared that it must be trusted over the victim’s own senses, practically infantilizing the victim’s concerns and trying to make them think that their worries are just flights of fancy. Please, please keep this in mind any time you want to accuse a character of gaslighting in the future; not all psychological abuse is a form of gaslighting. Sometimes it’s just... abuse. It’s not any more or less worse than gaslighting, it’s just different.

Anyway, about the “path” that the Inbetween is so obsessed with. No idea what the fuck that’s talking about.

In Kingdom Hearts, the only paths that are really of import are is a specific character’s “road to dawn” (redemption without fully yielding his edginess, essentially) or the “paths” that characters take to traverse between different worlds. I really don’t think the Inbetween has anything to do with either of them, but I’ll leave the options there if you want to peruse the possibilities.

What’s more likely, I think, is that this is a vaguely more subtle version of control/possession. The “path” is just “whatever the Inbetween wants you to do”.

Our next book is from the other side, and is plastered nonchalantly but boldly against the wall with no flower pot or anything.

Karl picks it up, puts it in his inventory (which probably indicates that he’s keeping this particular route close to his heart, rather than whatever the Inbetween is trying to make him do), and then the video stutters and he teleports back to the main entrance.

There’s a new book. It’s spooky as fuck, and hilariously hypocritical.

The tone shift is immediate, of course, aided by the abrupt change in background music since he got teleported back here. (I can’t quite nail it down; I assume it’s a slowed KH track like the others, but it doesn’t quite ring any bells for me.) The way the Inbetween speaks through these books has changed too, though; it addresses him by name without any attempt to cover up its intentions with flowery softness.

It does a cool fun thing where it says that it knows more than Karl, and knows what’s right, and then goes on to say that those visions shouldn’t dictate his opinion on the inbetween. (I’m keeping an eye on that lowercase, by the way. Not sure if it’s a typo or intentional, since it’s still one word, but.) As though he should trust the Inbetween’s opinions of itself rather than his own brain? A’ight. Sure, Jan.

Again it tries to tell him that it’s safe here. The lying is getting more transparent now.

He puts this book back, the previous book back, and runs after a double of himself until the shaders and music glitch again.

Fun thing about shaders is that they make dark areas... much, much darker. Especially since we saw that Karl’s got night vision (the effect, for cinematic purposes) on.

The music has a few notes that again sound as though they’re being played backwards.

The book on the tree in this courtyard does not come with its own little wither rose pot, and neither does it seem to come from the Inbetween, since it’s telling him some awful things about these other versions of himself.

It confirms a few things about the mystery other selves, namely that they’re definitely condemned to walk the castle forever, but it doesn’t really tell us why this happens or why the Inbetween (probably) wants this to happen. What’s the end goal?

We’re probably a bit early in the story to figure that out, but they’re questions worth keeping in mind as this storyline progresses.

Karl gets teleported back to the main lobby, which looks very dark and spooky, though in the transition we do see a glimpse of that portal. There are torches around the wither pot book pedestal, and the audio really kicks into high gear with the creepy notes and the visuals get stretched and glitch quite a bit as he opens the book.

Funnily enough, the audio kind of reminded me of some pokemon encounter music, but I think that’s just because I’ve got those notes wired into my brain from years of playing those games. Anyway! The book tells him this is not a warning, and that they’re gonna fucking come for him to make sure he sticks with their path.

“We”.

Who is “we”? Is the Inbetween a collective? Is the Inbetween just part of a different whole? Maybe it counts all the different Karls as a part of it.

Either way, it’s creepy and threatening. Karl starts running; the screen glitches and tells him to follow the torches, which at first I was kind of leery about trusting, but the next series of words helped clear up exactly what side those words are on.

Also, you’ll notice that some other text kinda skitters across the screen before the English, like it’s getting translated. I think it’s Galactic, which is something different from the thing that Ranboo uses for Ender? I think Ranboo uses the Alien language thing or something? I’m not 100% sure on that, feel free to correct me and I’ll fix this portion.

It certainly implies that the speaker isn’t communicating in the server equivalent of “common”, however. Not sure if they’re translating into English or if Karl inherently understands it and it’s translated into English for the audience’s convenience, but either way, the other speaker might be linked to something completely different.

Karl runs on with encouragement and creepy music until he finally arrives at the portal, which is not barred off like it was last time. Thanks, whoever’s responsible for that!

The music dies for this final book.

The Inbetween’s last-ditch attempt to make him stay. It calls him silly a couple of times, and smiles at the end with a :]

Problem is, we and Karl already know that staying with the Inbetween will keep him from his friends. And the voice tells him to leave for his friends.

Karl looks around at this place that calls itself his sanctuary, and makes his decision.

He arrives at The Other Side.

The music appears to be drawn from parts of either The Other Promise or Roxas’ Theme, both of which are heavily tied to the character known as Roxas. The version that Karl uses is slower and lower, the same as with the Dearly Beloved track he uses for his Inbetween segments.

Honestly, I’m not as certain on this as I could be, because I couldn’t find the exact variation on Youtube and there are parts that could just be Emotional rather than Roxas-related, I’m not sure. I’ll probably come back and fix this if it’s untrue.

EDIT: Yeah, uh, it’s Ven’s theme, not Roxas’, but the world itself is still heavily associated with Roxas in naming themes.

For now, I’m going off the assumption that the decision to make both the name and the theme of this world relevant to Roxas is purposeful, which means I’m... going to attempt to explain who Roxas is and what his story is.

Oh boy.

To grossly oversimplify the situation, Roxas is a “part” of Sora who develops his own sense of identity, is betrayed, gets coerced into murdering his best friend, gets kidnapped, gets memory wiped, and then—when he gets his memory back and realizes he super hates his captors—is convinced by those same captors to give up his existence because he “isn’t a real person” and if he lives then Sora will never wake up. So he “dies” and becomes a part of Sora again until later.

(Sora, by the way, is asleep due to the events in Castle Oblivion, which you might recognize as That Place I Keep Associating The Inbetween With.)

He’s also a fan favorite lmao. Take from that as you will, and, I don’t know, flip through his wiki page or something. Can’t guarantee it’s all understandable though.

My point to bringing Roxas up is that his arc... kind of parallels Karl’s. He did his job working for superiors he didn’t really understand in a white castle, with the higher-ups trying to control him, until he realized he was losing his friend/s to them. At that point, he defects. I think this is the point that Karl has reached, in his own storyline. He’s pulled away from the thing that’s made itself known to him, and now he’s wandering down something that hopefully isn’t as awful as the beast he’s just left behind.

Roxas also doesn’t get his happy ending for a long, long time.

Let’s hope Karl is different.

Off the top of my head, I can tell you that the mood this world creates is very reminiscent of some areas that the Kingdom Hearts games explore in 0.2 (yes, zero point two, that is the number of that game. This fucking series, man), specifically Castle Town, in which the player character has to smack a bunch of clock gears to make time go backwards in order to proceed, which is fun. But no exact inspirations come to mind the same way that Castle Oblivion did for the Inbetween.

Until we get a better look at the interiors, I’m going to gently claim that this build is more original and doesn’t take inspiration quite as directly from a Kingdom Hearts source, so there might not be an exact parallel. There isn’t a black castle in Kingdom Hearts that I can think of, honestly.

Also, I will say that I’m going to take this episode as confirmation that the wither roses are associated with the Inbetween and appear next to books that come from / are related to the Inbetween, especially since The Other Side associates itself with a completely different flower: the white tulip.

Anyway, The Other Side tells him he’s home, and that they’ll explore more soon.

This... eerily parallels the Inbetween, which told him that he’s safe, and has lots to explore.

I can’t say that I immediately trust The Other Side, but neither can I say that I inherently distrusted it the same way I did with the Inbetween. We’re going to have to wait and see how this place behaves in future episodes to get a good grasp of it. Who built these places? Are they alive, and writing the books, or is there a mastermind behind them? We still don’t have a lot of the answers, but that’s okay.

For now, I’m content to know that Karl is away from the more obvious perils of the Inbetween.

It could still be a trap, but for now, it’s a refuge.

[imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs]

Qrowin Week 2021: 6/21-Childhood Friends AU

Two little snowbirds sitting in a row

 They met in the garden at one of her father’s lavish parties. She’d gone outside because little girls didn’t like being told to sit still and not talk nor do anything fun, so she decided she didn’t care if the dress daddy bought her got messy, she’d go outside and spend time in the hedge maze.

They’d gotten it installed, in the shape of the Schnee family crest no less, because the Marigolds had one in the shape of their family crest and daddy could be silly about when people had things he didn’t.

The white roses that grew from the foliage walls, fragrant and delicate, were always calming to her, especially on a cool and cloudless night like this when the moonlight was at its brightest.

For Winter, to get lost in its lush corridors and marble statuary, it’s hidden gardens and fountains would be enough to get the annoyance of her father’s party out of her mind.

Most of that went out of her head when she found a grungy boy in a cape stuffing his face with what looked like a rabbit.

He stared at her, like an animal in a vehicle’s headlights, bits of his meal hanging from his mouth.

He couldn’t be older than her, gaunt with gunsmoke-colored hair stuck up at odd angles and eyes like carbuncles.

The clothes he wore were grubby and layered and obviously used long before he’d begun wearing them, especially that tattered cape.

For a moment, neither spoke, merely staring at one another in the moonlight.

Finally, Winter broke the silence.

“That’s disgusting.”

The boy dropped the rabbit from his mouth.

“Sorry if I’m not fancy enough for you, Miss Uppity.”

Winter felt her cheeks heat with indignation.

“How dare you!”

The boy threw back his head and laughed, a sound that reminded Winter of a pair of birds she’d once heard fighting in the yard.

“Is that all it takes to get under that pale skin!” he laughed, a sound which soon died in his throat when his stomach made a loud groan.

Winter huffed as he reached for the dead rabbit.

“Wait here and don’t touch that,” she said, turning on her heel.

She returned with two plates piled high with hors d'oeuvres.

“I didn’t know what you liked,” she said, handing him one, “so I got you one of everything.”

The boy said nothing, just shoveling food into his mouth in a way that probably promoted choking.

“You’re welcome,” Winter said, sitting down and spearing a piece of salmon on a toothpick to eat.

The boy coughed, pounding his chest.

“You shouldn’t eat so fast,” Winter said, “you’ll get sick.”

“Well, some of us don’t know when our next meal is gonna be,” he said.

His words brought back to Winter the memory of her father sending her to bed with no supper when he found she’d invited a faunus over to play, with threats of no breakfast if she didn’t break it off with the girl tomorrow.

“You might be surprised,” Winter said.

The boy said something through a mouthful of hummace.

“What was that?” Winter asked.

The boy swallowed.

“I’m Qrow,” he said.

Winter smiled.

“I’m Winter.”

One named Winter

She saw him on days when it wasn’t raining or snowing after that. The family he lived with (his “Tribe” as he called them) were camped out in the woods behind their house, the ones nobody would let daddy cut down.

At night, he told her, they danced and played instruments and drank until the early hours of the morning.

Winter never really cared for people who drank (her mother’s growing dependence on liquor was a factor in this) but Qrow never really showed up smelling like wine, so she supposed associating with him was no trouble.

It was also refreshing that he never stood on ceremony.

He never rolled his eyes at her when she spoke of wanting to learn fencing or told her how things were supposed to be when she complained about how someone (usually daddy) was being unfair.

He also taught her new games that were much more fun than anything that the boys and girls daddy introduced her knew.

Kick the can, stickball, and he played hide and seek and tag with her. And he’d tell her all about the places he’d been. Mistral, Vacuo, Menagerie, his tribe had traveled all over Remnant.

And while he could be crass, she still remembered seeing the way he rescued a baby bird from a stray cat and returning it to its nest with the tenderest care.

Or how when she complained of how her father was so bossy and so dumb, that he listened. Didn’t judge, didn’t criticize, just listen.

And sometimes, it was enough to know that they’d meet once a week, at night, in the hedge maze.

One named Qrow

She wasn’t what he expected.

Sure, she told him annoying things like “don’t slouch, eat slower, no burping, don’t pull up the flowers—no! I don’t need them, put them back!”

But she never called him weak. She never said he should practice more like his sister did.

Winter gave him food, and listened to his stories and ideas, and never asked if he wanted to fight. Sometimes, they would even just sit together.

She even taught him how to read; starting with big letters scratched in the dirt with a stick, before lending him books that they could read together.

Mr. Bruin is a Shoe-in was the first he read all by himself. And he was so happy when she let him keep it afterwards.

And she never told him to stop being so dumb, like his sister did.

And sometimes, it was enough to know that they’d meet once a week, at night, in the hedge maze.

Fly away, Winter!

Their shouts bring the servants running. All they saw was Winter on her knees, face in her hands as she wept piteously.

If only they’d come a few minutes earlier, then they could have seen the argument in all it’s glory. Voices rough from the volume and occasionally cracking, tears streaming down their faces, they weren’t that little boy and girl anymore.

He’d grown lanky and lean, she taller and with longer hair.

But they didn’t care right then.

She’d told him she was joining the military.

He said his tribe would be moving and asked if she wanted to join them instead of some stupid army.

She said it was a noble profession.

He said only for assholes.

She defended her position.

He reiterated his opinion.

She shouted at him, asking why couldn’t he be happy for her.

He shouted at her what would be wrong with going with him.

She said something about duty.

He told her to shut up, that he didn’t want to hear duty again in his whole life.

She told him that if he was going to act like a filthy little boy, then he could go off and sulk like one.

He said he wished he’d never met her and hoped she enjoyed killing people.

Arguments like that, they learned, ended with no winners.

Fly away, Qrow!

 That was the end of the time Qrow considered himself happy. Life seemed to plan for him a long drawn out death, bracketed with disappointments and tragedy’s.

Transformation

The death of friends.

The death of family.

The horrors of war.

Secrets and betrayal.

Abandonment.

And the drink

So, so much to drink.

It didn’t fix anything. It didn’t make him feel more human. But it kept the nightmares at bay. It kept him as a predictable disappointment rather than an out-of-the-blue-never-seen-that-kind-of-train-wreck-before disappointment.

But the worst part of the drink, thought, was that no matter how many shots he took, no matter how many chasers. Black liquor, brown liquor, red wine, white wine, it didn’t matter. Melancholy brought back visions of that girl from that time he had been happy.

Come back, Winter!

First impressions had never come easy to Qrow. So really, it should be no surprise that impression number 15 the horrible sequel nobody wanted or needed.

But really, denying common sense by chucking an empty whisky bottle at James Ironwood’s head was not only pointless, it was utterly puerile. He was drunk. He was upset that his latest search for intel on Salem had turned up next to nothing, he was itching for a fight and if that pompous wannabe hero wanted to take it up with him, that was fine.

Except he hadn’t expected the woman by his side to turn out to be someone familiar. Someone he hadn’t seen since he was a dumb, romantic, fifteen-year-old kid.

Someone whose reappearance upset his stomach enough that he emptied it onto the general’s uniform and shoes. With enough force to make his eyes water.

The woman in the Atlesian uniform said she would take care of him and asked another girl, another white haired girl, where their room was.

As they walked towards Beacon, he thought he heard her say “Qrow Branwen, what has the world done to you?”

Come back, Qrow!

Qrow awoke to a cold rag on his forehead.

“Lie still,” she said, “I think you got a hold of some rockgut.”

“More like rockgut got a hold of me.”

Qrow’s attempt at humor was met with a scowl.

“Gee, you got frosty.”

“And you became an alcoholic,” she said, wringing out the cloth into a nearby basin.

Qrow looked away from her and to the wall, as if a better retort than her’s existed there.

“It eases the pain,” he said.

“No it doesn’t,” Winter said. She threw the rag into the basin, causing the water to splash.

“Qrow, my mother is an alcoholic. It doesn’t fix anything! It just makes you want more of what’s essentially fermented grass!”

“You don’t think I know that!” Qrow snapped. Tears pricked at his eyes and his heart sank when he saw the hurt in her eyes from his tone, something he hadn’t seen there since their last meeting.

“There are nights when no matter how much I drink, I still can’t forget the loss of all the people around me and how--”

He paused and swallowed.

“How everyone is just one day going to leave me!”

Tears were starting to fall as all the regrets he’d kept at bay with drink and fighting and everythng else he could find came rushing back into him and coiling around his lungs.

“I’m bad luck, Winter,” he said, “I lost my sister, my tribe, I lost the people I care about, and every day, it’s missions, missions, and missions to find an enemy I don’t even know exists.”

His shoulders were shaking and he remembered his sister, back when they were little, telling him how ‘boys don’t cry.’

God, Winter must think he’s so pathetic.

Instead, she took him by the shoulders and gently brought him into her embrace.

“It’s alright,” she said, “just let it out. Get it all out.”

Not knowing what else to do, Qrow gripped the back of her uniform and sobbed into her shoulder, years’ worth of pain and loneliness deep inside him rising to the surface and finally escaping. And the pressure went with it.

At some point, they ended up lying together on the bed (wait, were they in a bunk bed?), still in each other’s arms.

“We all have regrets,” Winter said, “things we said. Things we wish we could take back.”

Her hand tightens on his shirt and his hand closes around it.

“But, if you really want to know, if I could do it over...”

Please say it, he wanted to think, but every time he had thoughts like that, life saw fit to swat him down again.

“I would go with you. Even if after the first day, I went back home, I think I would go with you.”

Qrow felt his heart swell and suddenly, he didn’t feel so sick anymore.

“And... if you wanted to start over... I would like that too.”

“I still have Mr. Bruin,” Qrow said.

He didn’t know why he said that. She never asked about the book, never said “Qrow, what kind of literature do you normally read?”

Whatever the reason, Winter looked up at him, shocked.

“Still? I thought you would’ve thrown that away.”

Qrow looked down at her, eyes glassy.

“I tried a few times. But I just couldn’t get rid of something that reminded me of you. It’s missing the page where Mr. Bruin loses his boot, but I tried to keep it safe.”

Winter’s hand rises to his cheek and Qrow leans into it, the human contact easing the hole in his soul he’s tried to fill with booze.

“I’m sorry I didn’t turn out as someone you could be proud of.”

“The fact that you kept that book tells me everything I need to know.”

Later that night, Winter’s sister and Qrow’s niece would get the shock of their lives when they enetered their room and saw the two of them sleeping on Weiss’s bed together.

[setoangel01-fanfiction]

Gardening

Fandom: Final Fantasy 7

Pairing: Zack Fair x Aerith Gainsborough (zerith)

Rated: T

Story Summary: Zack brings Aerith a priceless gift, and during so, he's also unknowingly fulfilling many more of her tiny little wishes…she'll just have to think up some more. AKA, flowers get planted and a love flourishes…

...

A03

FanFiction.net

....

Today was going to be perfect.

The fresh scent of topsoil, the earth fragrant and fresh with new life begging to be nurtured under her experienced hands. The small seeds in paper packets and blooming bulbs in trays were nearly enough to bring tears of happiness to Aerith's rich green eyes.

Yet the euphoria she was feeling was nothing but a blip to the full force of the sun that was Zackary Fair.

It was amazing! Her SOLDIER came to visit her at her house rather than her church. Nothing new, but today was different! Instead of only being able to stay for an hour or two before being called off to save Midgar from certain doom, Zack was free to spend the entire day with her - the general's orders! Zack had to even show her Sephiroth's text to prove it and there it was in black and white.

...

"r u sure, seph?"

"For the third and last time, yes, Zackary. I am more than capable of handling things at ShrinRa for one day. Now, instead of continuing to inundate me with fruitless texts, go and have a pleasant day with your female companion."

"but seph! what if u need heelp?"

"That's an order, Fair!"

"...k thanks! see u 2maro! =-D"

"Affirmative. My office for briefing at 700 sharp."

"u got it!"

....

…Wow.

While wanting to reprimand Zack for using such terrible language and grammar to communicate with his superior officer, Aerith completely ignored it to focus on the amazing news! Spending the entire day with Zack was such an exceptionally rare treat she was fully determined to cherish; anting to savor every single, last solitary moment with her handsome blue-eyed boyfriend.

Yet among the gift of his own sunny presence (which would have been plenty enough for her), today, Zack came bearing physical gifts.

Unlike other girls, Aerith had never been someone to care for expensive trinkets to showcase affection such as jewellery, new clothes or purses even if Zack could easily afford it with his First Class paycheck. No, Aerith was far simpler; wanting nothing more than to spend time with him - and she always told him so. The most luxurious thing Zack had bought for her thus far was the bright pink ribbon she scarcely removed from her hair and some delightful floral perfume he mixed himself when they went out on their first date.

Yet instead of some fancy baubles or silk clothing peeking out at her from a large brown box he held out to her was something completely unexpected…

…Zack brought her flowers!

While she grew plenty of her own, Zack had brought her something she could have never found here - flowers cultivated outside of Midgar!

Zack had been deployed on so many missions all over Gaia lately, Junon, Costa Del Sol, and Kalm just to name a few. During these times, they would talk on the phone, text or he would simply send photos to her PHS from locations during his travels. In those small photos he sent, Aerith lit up seeing all the native fauna of the place where he happened to be staying and the flower pictures became a tradition between them. Whenever he'd leave on a mission, he left with a goodbye kiss and a promise to send her pictures of flowers that grew there, and for this past year, he had kept that promise.

But as Zack slowly tilted the box to present her with its contents, Aerith was nothing short of stunned.

Inside were multiple packets of seeds and bags of bulbs. All of the white and brown packaging had his adorably messy handwriting on each with the names of flowers he had sent her pictures of throughout the last year. Deciphering his writing, Aerith noticed the names of more common species from Kalm and Junon but among the packets, there were exotic species from Wutai and even from Banora. Oh! And there were sunflower seeds from Rocket Town!

But…wait, was that -

"...Gongaga?" Aerith asked, noticing the word and glancing up at her boyfriend questioningly.

"Heh. Yeah," Zack chuckled and Aerith noticed his right arm twitch as if he wanted to scratch the back of his head if his hands weren't occupied.

"...Wait, you went to visit your parents? You never told me that! How are they? When did you go see them?" the questions flew out of her mouth at an alarming rate.

Zack just smiled softly (he had such a wonderful smile), "I didn't."

At Aerith's befuddled expression, he clarified, "My mom actually sent them. I wrote her a letter about you - I told her my girlfriend loves to garden and grows flowers and well, the next thing I know, she's sending me back a letter with all these questions along with some seeds from the flowers she and my dad have been growing in the backyard since I was a kid." Zack chuckled nervously as if shy from the information and Aerith felt as if her heart was going to jump straight out of her chest.

Blinking, Aerith glanced back down to the box cradled in his hands, all the work of gathering seeds, drying them and labeling them must have taken forever and he never told her what he was doing!

How he listened so intently as she spoke during the time they spent together this past year, asked questions and was so genuinely interested about her hobby when most times, she thought he was simply indulging her. Yet he was learning so he could give this gift to her… Not to mention the bombshell of him writing a letter to his parents and mentioning her! Proudly calling her his girlfriend and even mentioning her hobbies!

A burning sensation grew in the back of her eyes and she felt a tear slip down her cheek.

"Uh…Aer, i-is everything alright?" Zack's voice broke thorough and she looked up at his adorably nervous face.

"...You really wrote a letter to your mom about m-me?"

"Well, yeah! And my dad too I guess. Uh…I-Is that okay? I thought it would be good to mention it since we've been together for over a year and she's been badgering me about telling her about you when I call, so I figured mentioning flowers would be a safe start-" Zack's voice faded as Aerith lifted her hands and gently cupped his sweet face between her palms. Not mindful of the tears that continually slipped down her cheeks, Aerith couldn't help but smile at Zack, a smile so wide, it made her cheeks ache.

…How did she get so lucky to have this beautiful angel literally drop into her life?

"It's more than okay. It's wonderful…You're wonderful…" she whispered, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones and tenderly caressing the scar on his jaw.

Aerith smiled tenderly as she felt his cheeks heat up under her palms. Zack's looked positively (and adorably) flustered at her comments; for once, she was the one to embarrass him and she relished it.

"Thanks… So are you," Zack replied, nuzzling his cheek against her palm. Such a sweet puppy…

Zack's face was so handsome and kind and eyes pretty and warm that Aerith simply couldn't resist pushing herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him. But before she even get close to closing the gap, her chest bumped right into the cardboard box and Zack yelped as he managed to catch it before it could fall or the seeds could get crushed between them as she regained her balance.

Zack laughed.

Aerith flushed a pink so deep it matched her ribbon.

Probably noticing how Aerith tensed in mortification of her actions, Zack's chuckling died out and he easily broke the tension by suggesting, "Hey, I'm all for kissing later, but how about we plant some of these first?" he nudged her hip softly with the box.

Aerith's face was still reddened but she flashed him a grateful smile. A deep breath later, the green eyed girl straightened her back and easily played along, "Planting new flowers sounds wonderful! But… you'll do exactly as I say this time? Because, Mr. Zackary Fair, if memory serves me right, I remember the last time you helped me try weeding the church…" she placed her hands on her hips and flashed him her best withering stare (it didn't work, he just bit his cheek to withhold laughter).

The longer she stared, Zack's grew sheepish at the memory of that fiasco, his cheeks a bright coral red against his tan skin, "Uh… well, in my defense, all those green stems look the same to me!"

Aerith's withering glare worked this time.

"Oh! O-Of course I'll follow your orders exactly! After all, you're the professional here! Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it!" he announced with determination and a blinding white smile.

"Yay! Just what I love to hear!" she bounced on her toes and clapped, completely breaking character before jumping right back in it with a stern voice, "Alright, First Class SOLDIER, Zack Fair, I order you to plant some flowers and perhaps do some weeding, but make sure to do it correctly this time! Do I make myself clear?"

"Ma'am, yes, Ma'am! Operation Midgar Full of Flowers, Wallet Full of Money shall commence immediately!" Zack stated loudly, finally maneuvered the box under one arm and gave her a full SOLDIER salute with rigid stance and stern expression.

Aerith just giggled into her palms before pushing at his shoulder as Zack yelped when the box nearly went flying out of his arms again.

.....

Scratch that earlier statement - today was definitely perfect.

A few hours later, the couple were knelt in a patch of soft dirt.

The rich brown loam permeating the air and making the normally rank Midgar air sweet and fragrant with the scent of flourishing life. Aerith was barefoot, boots discarded as she dug her toes into the cool grass and merely enjoyed the soft breeze as her fingers raked through the dirt under her palms. The brown soil staining her fingertips and getting under her nails and most likely staining the white and blue dress caught under her knees, but she couldn't care less.

Looking to her left was nothing short of perfection.

The flowers and grass, soil and the promise of new life with every seed planted didn't much matter compared to the man kneeling right next to her. Aerith smiled softy. Her emerald green eyes tracing over Zack's handsome face as he had his complete attention on the soil in front of him. While Zack was known to have the attention span of a puppy on a sugar rush most times, when he put his heart into something, Zack easily gave 110% of focus on that task like he was right now.

Ever so carefully, the SOLDIER listened to her instructions, following her along as she showed him how to plant the seeds he gave her. Till the soil, dig the holes to make sure they were deep enough and far enough apart not to interfere with the seedling next to them. Showed him how much water to give the freshly buried seeds, the perfect amount as to not dehydrate nor to drown. With each step and seed and bulb that he planted, his confidence grew until he was doing it on his own and Aerith couldn't be prouder of her first student!

Heart hammering as she took in Zack's concentrated expression, Aerith took his moment of distraction to complete what she tried earlier - this time with much more success.

Leaning forward on her knees, Aerith gingerly pressed her palms to his broad chest. The incredible firm large pecs under her wandering fingers inflated with Zack's surprised intake of breath as he looked at her in surprise at her forward action. Still retaining her nerve, Aerith grasped at his leather suspender straps, using them for balance as she eagerly pressed her lips against the corner of his plush smiling mouth.

The SOLDIER smiled warmly at her action. Hands wanting nothing to grab at her waist to pull her closer and kiss her properly but with the dirt covering his fingers, he resisted. Instead, he chased her retreating face, brushing his cheek on hers before letting his lips leave feathery strokes along her jaw before planting the softest kiss by her ear.

"What was that for? You trying to distract me?" he whispered and he bit his lip upon feeling her shiver as she nuzzled her face in his neck.

Aerith whole body felt electrified at Zack's question and his warm breath caressing her throat and loose tendrils of hair hanging by her ears. "No. Not really… What if I said I just wanted to?"

"...Oh really?" he asked, pulling back slightly and Aerith mourned the loss of his warmth for only a second as she caught his coy smile."Because if I didn't know better, I think you're just distracting me from gardening…"

"What if I am?" her mouth spoke before her brain even registered it. The words that left her mouth made her flush.

"Hmm... well, if that's the case, I'd say you win," he affirmed with the sexiest smirk she ever saw but before she could respond, Zack's mouth pressed against hers. His head tilting so he could slot his mouth perfectly against hers; the action had her toes curling against the grass as she bit back a rising moan. Aerith's hands grabbed at his raven hair, fingers eagerly cording through soft strands and desperately grasping at him to pull him closer.

Yet all too soon, Zack pulled his mouth away with a sinful pop as Aerith panted frantically, cheeks flushed and confused and a bit miffed that he dared to stop.

"So, since we're almost finished planting the dahlia's, how about we move over this hill and plant the sunflowers near the bridge?" Zack asked all too naturally before flashing her a devious wink.

Aerith was affronted for only a moment before she glared at him, "Nope. I'm in charge, remember?" with little hesitation, Aerith gently pushed aside the remaining seeds and bulbs and pushed Zack onto his back. The SOLDIER easily caving to her hands as she pressed at his shoulders til he rested among the soft grass, the bright green a beautiful contrast to his dark hair. "And I say that you're not allowed to get up until I say so, am I making myself clear, SOLDIER?

"Oh, yes..." he grunted lightly for show as she plopped down on his stomach guard. "Crystal clear, ma'am," he replied biting back a chuckle before she leaned over him and kissed him for all he was worth.

...After all, the seeds could always wait to be planted later…

[inkwell1013]

Paint the Streets With Rainbows - Good Omens

Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley, Aziraphale & OC, Crowley & OC

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Oneshot

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Homophobia, disownment

Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale accidentally end up at a pride parade after a rather nice dinner date, and meet a cheerful boy named Jordan. A week later, something terrible happens, and they step in to help out their new acquaintance.

- - - - - 

Crowley and Aziraphale had chanced upon the parade quite by accident, taking a wrong turn on the way back to Aziraphale’s bookshop after spending the morning at a nearby café. Aziraphale would have assumed it was a mere coincidence, but his more fanciful belief in fate and the divine plan belayed this assumption. The way Aziraphale saw it, nothing happened without reason. Them arriving there when they did was fate, nothing more and nothing less.

There were rainbows everywhere. That was the first thing Aziraphale noticed. There were so many rainbows: hung from trees, worn on t-shirts, draped over shoulders like capes, waved from flagpoles, and even fashioned from balloons. He noticed that there were other flags too mixed in with all the rainbows, like flowers growing in a garden, all bright and beautiful and unique.

He wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but he assumed it was good as everyone seemed delightfully happy. And there were so many people, more than he could possibly count. He had never seen such an impossibly huge crowd before.

Glancing toward Crowley, he saw a content smile playing across his partner’s lips. “What is this?” asked Aziraphale, gesturing towards the raucous procession.

“It’s a pride parade. Have you never seen one before?”

“No, I haven’t.”

Crowley chuckled. “Wow. You don’t get out much, do you?”

Aziraphale huffed - secretly a little grumpy – mostly because he knew it was true. His significant aversion to socializing meant that he spent most of his time alone when he wasn’t with Crowley. Some might call that lifestyle sad, but Aziraphale preferred his quiet life to the alternative.

“Basically,” continued Crowley. “A pride parade is a celebration of the many differences of humanity – from sexual orientation to gender – as well as a way to protest inequality.”

“Well, that’s rather nifty, isn’t it?” said Aziraphale, adjusting his bowtie.

Crowley stifled a laugh. “I suppose it is.”

“Rather a lot of rainbows, don’t you think?” quirked Aziraphale. “I always liked rainbows. They’re a symbol of hope, and it never hurts to have a little hope these days.”

“I agree.”

It was at that moment that a boy pattered up to them. He was young – perhaps sixteen by Aziraphale’s best estimate, though he had never been good at guessing ages – and was tall for his age. He reminded Aziraphale rather a lot of a golden retriever, with his long, floppy blond hair and cheerful smile, which he leveled at them both, joy painted clearly on his features.

“Are you too here for the parade?” he beamed, cocking his head.

Crowley smiled back at him. “We are. Why do you ask?”

“That’s so cool!” exclaimed the boy. “I saw you and your boyfriend—”

“Husband,” interjected Crowley.

“Sorry, husband. And I just got super excited. You guys seem so happy together, and its nice, you know? Knowing its possible. That there’s a future for me, I guess. You know, you see all the sad stuff in the news, and it gets to you. It feels like there’s no hope left, but there’s always hope. I’m probably rambling. I’m sorry for bothering you two.” The boy turned to leave, but Crowley stopped him.

“Wait. Are you here with your parents?” he asked. “We could help you find them.”

“My Dad doesn’t know I’m here,” mumbled the boy. “He isn’t exactly cool with all this stuff, and I’m too scared to tell him. And my Mum… Well, she’s in heaven now.”

Crowley frowned rather instinctually, and the kid immediately backtracked. “It’s fine though. He’s not so bad. It could be worse.”

In a spur of the moment decision, Aziraphale pulled a newly miracled business card that hadn’t existed seconds ago from his jacket pocket and pushed it into the boy’s hands.

“What your name?” asked Aziraphale.

The boy gave him a quizzical look. “Jordan. Jordan Stewart.”

“It’s been nice to meet you Jordan,” beamed Aziraphale. “If you ever need help, call the number on this card.”

“Okay.”

“Good lad,” said Crowley. “Now go have fun. You’re at a pride parade after all.”

Jordan smiled, tucking the business card into his jacket pocket before sprinting away, throwing his arms around a boy with dark, curly hair. The boy stumbled back, only just catching his balance before he tumbled over.

“Ash! You made it,” exclaimed Jordan.

Ash laughed. “You thought I was going to miss your first pride? I’m not that bad of a friend,” he smirked. “Seriously though, how did you get away? I thought your dad was giving you trouble.”

Jordan shrugged. “I told him I was hanging out with some friends at the park.”

“And he bought that?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised too, to be honest. If he asks, tell him we were hanging out at the park with the others.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it.”

Crowley and Aziraphale watched the boy leave with his friend, firmly believing that would be their last encounter. They were both equally surprised when they received a phone call from Jordan just one week later.

Aziraphale was doing a little late-night reading before bed, and Crowley had wrapped himself around his husband, rather like he was trying to constrict him. Neither of them expected the phone to ring.

Crowley had whined and grumbled but Aziraphale insisted on fetching the phone just in case it was something important – a call from a supplier or customer, perhaps.

Aziraphale answered the call and Crowley buried his face in his pillow, still grumpy that Aziraphale had pushed him off. He immediately shot up when he heard Jordan’s voice on the other end.

“I didn’t think you’d pick up,” mumbled the boy. His voice was cracking and coarse, and Crowley knew that he had been crying. “I’m really sorry to bother you so late. I just didn’t know who else to call.”

“Is everything okay?” asked Aziraphale. “You sound upset.”

“My father found out about everything, and he kicked me out. He said that he’d rather have no son than… than me. I can’t believe this happened,” choked out Jordan. “I never did anything wrong.”

Aziraphale cast a helpless look at Crowley who hastily took the phone from him. “Jordan, can you tell me where you are?” asked Crowley.

“The McDonald’s on Main Street. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“That’s okay,” said Crowley, scrambling out of bed and throwing on the first pair of trousers he could find, an effort that was made difficult by the fact that he only had one free hand to do it. “Stay right there. We’ll pick you up.”

“Thank you.”

Crowley’s trusty Bentley got them there quickly, and Aziraphale suspected that Crowley used some of his demonic influence to turn all the traffic lights on the way there green. He wasn’t complaining though. Anything that got them there faster was worth it, regardless of the possible consequences.

Jordan slipped silently into the car, eyes still puffy and red from crying. There was a short silence, before Jordan spoke. “Why doesn’t he love me?” he asked. “What did I do wrong?”

“This wasn’t your fault kid,” said Crowley. “It was never your fault. Some people are just trapped in the past. I understand how you feel. I do. Being disowned by the people who are meant to love you is shitty. It was shitty when it happened to me, and it’s still shitty now. There will always be shitty people in the world, but they’re becoming less common these days.”

“I agree,” said Aziraphale. “Barring the excessive swearing. Let’s try and limit the swear words in front of the young one, shall we dear?”

There was just the barest hint of a smile showing on Jordan’s face, and Aziraphale smiled a little to himself in turn.

“Do you have somewhere to stay?” asked Aziraphale.

Jordan shuffled in his seat. “Not really. Ash always said I could stay with him if something happened, but his parents are super strict, so I dunno if they’d be too pleased about that. I wouldn’t want to make things hard for him.”

“You can crash with us if you’d like,” said Crowley. “We have a spare room, don’t we Angel?” Crowley cast Aziraphale an expectant look, almost asking – begging – for permission.

Aziraphale hastily conjured an extra room in his bookshop, complete with fresh sheets and a newly vacuumed carpet, before nodding in agreement. They did now.

“Are you sure I won’t be an imposition?” asked Jordan.

“We’re certain,” said Aziraphale.

“Thank you, it means a lot.”

“It’s really no bother at all.”

They arrived at Aziraphale’s bookshop a little while later and Crowley and Aziraphale lead Jordan to the spare room. The moment he walked into the room, Jordan crumpled, tears streaming down his face.

“Are you alright?” asked Aziraphale. “Do you not like it?”

“No. Its perfect,” whispered Jordan, blinking through tears as he looked around his surroundings. The room was small but neat, with a single bed on one corner, adorned with bright blue sheets. There was a wardrobe in the other corner and a small bedside table as well.

But the thing that Jordan couldn’t stop staring at was the rainbow flag hung up on the wall.

He was safe here. For the first time in years, he knew he was safe.

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 30

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 if you’d prefer!

Follow ‘whenihaveyou.romione’ on Instagram if you’d like to. 

------

Chapter 30

“You know,” Ron said, unable to contain the smile that formed on his lips when Hermione emerged from their room, “one day I’m going to be literally blown away by how amazing you look, and it’s going to entirely be your fault. you look beautiful.” 

Beautiful was an understatement. Hermione was absolutely stunning. She really did like to dress up for special occasions, and while he sincerely thought she was beautiful even when she got out of bed in the mornings and her already wild hair was askew and unbrushed, his heart skipped two beats whenever he saw her with it tied up, sleaked down smooth and wearing a dress, or something more elegant than her usual attire of Ministry robes. 

It reminded him of the Yule Ball back in fourth year, or Bill and Fleur’s wedding, when she had undoubtedly been the most beautiful person in the whole room on both occasions. At least now he had the ability and the sense to let her know that that was still the case. 

“You always know how to flatter,” Hermione said; she said it in a teasing way, but he could tell she appreciated the compliment by the way her cheeks tinged a pleasurable pink. She always appreciated it. 

Ron leaned forward to kiss her, but Hermione pulled back. “Not yet,” she said. “I haven’t placed the no-smudge charms on the makeup yet. If you kiss me, I’ll have to do it all over again.”

“That’s such a shame!” Ron called after her as she disappeared into the bathroom, perhaps to see if her makeup had smudged by him just looking at her. “Also, the party starts in ten minutes, and we’re not allowed to Apparate directly into the place, so we still need to walk from the Apparition point.”

“No one ever shows up on time to a party such as this anyway!” Hermione called back, her voice muffled from the walls of the bathroom. 

“That’s a very un-Hermione-like thing to say,” Ron said, thinking of all the times she’d hurried him out the door, or into the Floo, repeating about how they’ll be late. He collapsed onto the sofa, ensuring that his no-crease charm had worked on his suit. It had, thankfully. 

Wearing a Muggle suit was such a discomfort; he didn’t know how they did it. It was tight, there were too many pieces, and after many attempts to do up a tie, Hermione had ended up using her wand, but she’d performed the spell too well and for a brief moment, Ron had been unable to breathe. 

At least for Hermione, Muggle women wore dresses that flowed either to their knees, or their ankles, or somewhere in between, and they weren’t really any different to what he’d seen Hermione, Ginny, or even Fleur wear before. 

But Ron missed his dress robes. 

A moment later, Hermione returned from the bathroom. “Ready!” she said. 

“Can I kiss you now?” Ron asked, standing up. “Or is that forbidden?”

“You can kiss me as much as you want, and this makeup won’t budge,” Hermione assured him. 

“Good!” Ron said, and he moved to her, kissing her hard, trying to make a point. 

Once he pulled away, he looked her over once again, revelling in just how lucky he felt to be with her. He loved absolutely everything about her, and more than anything he wished that this engagement party was theirs. 

After their holiday together in Croatia, after promising her that he’d ask soon, he had been so ready to do it. He was ready to do it. It was no longer a ‘one day’ for him; it was a very real, very now thing, and he was fairly certain Hermione felt the same. 

He found himself thinking about asking her in every waking moment, and just how he’d do it. It had to be romantic. He liked being romantic with her, doing nice things, and showing her how much he loved her. Maybe a dinner — though that was a little cliche, but it didn’t have to be a traditional type of dinner. Maybe he could take her somewhere special, a place they’d never been. Paris, maybe. 

And he had to get her a ring. That was something he really wanted to get right, and the biggest reason he hadn’t yet asked her. She’d already promised she would say yes to him, and Hermione being Hermione, she’d probably guess any attempt he made to surprise her. But an engagement ring was something he could surprise her with, because there were so many options that there would be no way she would guess which one he had chosen. 

The only problem with that was finding the time to get it. Ever since their holiday in mid February, Ron had been hit hard with training. He was reaching the end of his second year of Auror training, and that meant a lot of cramming of information and practice. On the weekends he should have been able to look for a ring, he was being called into the Auror Office for extra courses. He’d had absolutely no time to go anywhere at all, let alone by himself. 

Then came late March, and Percy and Audrey announced their engagement to everyone, which meant that there was no way Ron could do it without stealing the moment from his brother. 

So now, in mid May, rather than preparing for their own engagement party like he and Hermione might have hoped, they were heading off to some fancy Muggle hall, no magic allowed, celebrating the impending marriage of Percy and Audrey. 

“Is the suit bothering you?” Hermione asked.

“What?”

“You keep playing with the tie. Is it still too tight? I could loosen it some more if you want.”

“It’s fine,” Ron said, though that was a lie. He’d still much prefer dress robes, and when he did marry Hermione, everyone was welcome to wear whatever made them the most comfortable. “It’s just weird, isn’t it? They haven’t been together all that long, really. And they’re getting married already.”

“Longer than we have,” Hermione reminded him, which was technically true, but he’d loved Hermione for much longer, and for Ron, that counted for something.

“Ready to go?” he asked, glancing at his watch. “We will now officially be late.”

Hermione nodded, smiling. She accepted Ron’s offered arm and Apparated them both to the Leaky Cauldron, which was near the party. 

Personally, Ron couldn’t understand why it needed to be so fancy. Wasn’t dressing up supposed to be for the wedding, not the engagement? What was wrong with a small gathering at a house? The Burrow would have been perfect. They could have gathered in the garden. 

But over the year and a bit Ron had gotten to know Audrey, he had learnt that Audrey liked things fancy. And so did her parents. Not the Granger kind of fancy, where they’d splurge on the occasional dinner, but everything needed to be the best and the most expensive. 

Really, the fact that she was marrying a Weasley astounded Ron. But then again, she had no idea about it, and Ron was sure Percy didn’t willingly share just how difficult things had been for them all growing up. He probably flaunted all of the money he had now and Audrey thought they were all like that. 

Another thing Ron had learnt was, whilst Audrey thought she had hit the jackpot with marrying someone who could perform magic, her parents were far from impressed. Any extended family was absolutely forbidden to know, and therefore — as they were paying for the party and the wedding — their rules applied. 

No magic. 

The request had been no wands either, but Ron had his tucked firmly in his suit, and he was certain Hermione had hers somewhere as well. No doubt Percy was also carrying his. Leaving a wand in another room of a house was one thing, but to go out without it…

Audrey’s parents did not need to know that wands were used to Apparate. 

“All these rules and regulations, you’d think her parents would like Percy a bit more than they do,” Ron said as they reached the hall where the party would be. Even the outside had been elaborately decorated with very expensive things.

“Take away the magic, and perhaps they would,” Hermione said, grinning. “But you have to admit, Audrey is perfect for your brother.”

“They’re the same person,” Ron reasoned. “It’s freaky.”

“Makes them a perfect match.”

Ron smiled at her, thinking that he and Hermione were a perfect match as well. He started to say that he wished this could be them, but stopped at the last minute. Why get her hopes up — or scare her away — when he couldn’t even get her a ring?

“Come on,” he said. “I’m sure Ginny is making fun of every little detail right now.”

If the outside of the hall was elaborate, then the inside was something else entirely. Ron had attended a few weddings in his life, those of distant relatives mostly, and none of the weddings had ever looked this fancy. He’d never even heard of an engagement party until they’d been invited to Percy and Audrey’s. Hermione had said it was fairly common in the Muggle world. 

Every single spare bit of wall was covered in white and red flowers. There were round tables with white tablecloths, the centrepiece was the same flowers on the walls, but in small pots. Guests — none of whom Ron immediately recognised — mingled around the tables, glasses of wine or other drinks in hand. 

Ron suppressed the urge to tell Hermione that when they got married they were having a simple wedding and Audrey’s parents weren’t invited. 

“Oh, look!” Hermione said, not sounding anywhere near as appalled by the state of this room as Ron felt. “We’ve even got place settings. How lovely.”

They walked through the crowd, checking the names at each table. They eventually found theirs on table three, where they’d been designated seats with Harry, Ginny, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, George, and Molly and Arthur. Oh, and Victoire.

“I’m expecting a surprise wedding by the end of this,” Ron said, spotting his sister in the crowd and waving her over. 

“Evening,” Ron said. “You look nice,” he added, noticing that Ginny was also dressed up wonderfully for the occasion, wearing a deep blue dress. 

“Thanks!” Ginny said, smiling. “Nice place, isn’t it?”

“A bit too fancy for my taste. Where’s Harry?”

“Talking Dad through how a water fountain works without… magic.” She lowered her voice at the last word, rolling her eyes. “I mean, we’re not stupid, we’re not all going to pull out our wands and start casting fireworks into the hall, are we? Besides, how were we supposed to get here via Apparition without our wands?”

“That’s what I said!” Ron said. “And this looks more like a wedding than a celebration to say you’re getting married one day.”

“I think it’s lovely,” Hermione said, scanning the room. “It’s always nice to dress up.”

“You look amazing, by the way, Hermione,” Ginny noted.

“That’s what I said!” Ron replied. “Doesn’t she?”

Ginny smiled, turning her head just as Harry joined them. “I don’t even know how the bloody water fountain works,” he grumbled. “I’m not a plumber.”

Everyone laughed as Audrey came over to them, smiling, with two older and wary people slightly behind her. 

“Hello, everyone!” she said cheerfully. “I’m glad you could make it. This is Percy’s brother, Ron, and his sister Ginny,” she said to the people behind her. Her parents, Ron assumed. “And their partners Hermione and Harry.”

In Ron’s opinion, Audrey’s parents looked far from impressed about having such wayward guests for their daughter’s engagement party. They probably had plans that she’d marry some wealthy businessman or something, not a red-haired, freckled and bespectacled bookworm. The only thing about Percy that would appeal to them was his pompous approach to life. 

“I trust you have received our instructions about… everything?” Audrey’s mother asked, looking them all over with uncertainty. 

“Absolutely!” Hermione said. “We completely understand.”

Ron looked at Ginny and Harry, who grinned. Not a single member of the Weasley family was here without a wand tonight. 

“Hermione grew up without magic,” Audrey said to her parents. “Remember, I told you about her?”

“Oh, yes,” Audrey’s mother said, and she gave Hermione such a fake smile she would have given Umbridge a run for her money. “Well, it’s nice to finally put faces to names. Audrey has spoken a lot about you.” She turned to leave, Audrey giving them all an apologetic smile before following. 

“Lovely people, they are,” Ron said. 

“It is a bit of a shock when you find out magic exists,” Hermione replied. 

“Yeah, but I like your parents,” Ron said. “They’re nice people.”

Hermione tried her best to look annoyed, but she smiled anyway. They all knew Audrey’s parents were rich, upper class snobs who thought themselves better than everyone else. One only had to look at the decorations to determine that.

“Come on,” Hermione said, sighing, “let’s sit down.”

They all sat around the table, taking in the finer details of the decorations. 

“These tablecloths are made from really expensive silk,” Hermione pointed out.

“How do you know they’re expensive?” Ron asked.

Hermione flushed, seeming reluctant to answer. “Because my parents have a few similar ones for special occasions.”

Ron grinned, but said nothing. Her parents could have been the rudest, snobby-ish people in the whole country, and it wouldn’t have changed his opinion of her one bit. He supposed that was how Percy felt about Audrey.

“So, how’s Quidditch going?” Hermione then said, turning to Ginny. 

“Training is good, I guess,” Ginny said. “Though I want to get out playing.”

“When will you play?” Ron asked.

Ginny shrugged. “When they need me. Probably not this season, though. Maybe next.”

“Well, whenever it’s your first game, let us know,” Hermione said. “We’ll all come to see.”

“Oh Merlin,” Ginny said, eyes widening slightly, “I never even thought about family coming to watch…”

“You’ll be fine,” Harry said, patting her on the back. “You’ll do great. I keep telling you that. You’ll be on the pitch in no time.”

Ginny smiled. “I hope so.”

They were then joined by Molly, Arthur, Bill, and Fleur, all equally dressed up in Muggle clothing. Ron was pleasantly surprised to find his parents had managed to find items that matched, though he did wonder if Audrey had helped them. She always seemed amused by wizarding style, especially those of her future inlaws. Arthur’s attempts, especially, to dress more casually had always ended in disaster. 

While Arthur also wore a plain black suit, Molly wore an ankle-length floral dress that really suited her. 

Everyone, in Ron's opinion, had done well to not stand out. 

"This is exciting, isn't it?" Arthur said, grinning from ear to ear. "I've already spoken to three Muggles along the way! One is a doctor. A Muggle Healer! He was more than happy to share with me all the details of an operation — you know, when they cut someone open. Fascinating stuff!"

"Yes, fascinating being cut open," Molly said with a sigh. "Not what I'd want to happen to me."

"Isn't that what your parents do, Hermione?" Arthur asked.

"They treat teeth," Hermione reminded him. "They don't cut — well, I suppose they've had to cut some teeth out of gums before, but nothing more than that. They’ve retired anyway."

“Fascinating!" Arthur said. "I really must remember to invite them for dinner one night and pick their brains about it." He glanced sideways to where Audrey's parents stood talking to their own family, suddenly looking disappointed. "I don't think they are as interested in sharing their stories as your parents are, Hermione."

Everyone turned to look at the couple, Audrey's mum still wearing a sour expression. 

"We are having lunch with them tomorrow," Hermione said, and everyone looked back at her. "Mum and Dad, I mean. Why don't you join us? They won't mind. You too, Molly."

"Oh, dear, I'm sure they don't want us intruding in on a family —"

"They'll be delighted," Hermione said kindly, and Ron suspected that was not the answer his mother wanted to hear.

"Then we accept!" Arthur said cheerfully. "I'll get the address from you later, and we will be there with bells on!"

"Not real bells, I hope," Ginny said, snorting.

"It's a Muggle phrase," Arthur explained. "It means we'll be there promptly. Eagerly..."

More guests gradually filled the hall to the point that Ron estimated around three hundred people, the vast majority being family or friends of Audrey's parents. Charlie and George joined them as some of the last to arrive. 

Ron spotted a few of Percy's friends from Hogwarts mixed with the crowd, but no one he knew more personally apart from the people who sat at his table. 

At least he’d be more prepared for the wedding, which was scheduled for November this year. 

One thing they could all agree on was that the food was good. Like everything else with Audrey's family, they'd hired only the best caterers to provide the food. It was three courses and all of them were as tasty as the next. 

As he didn't know anyone else here, Ron was glad he could at least enjoy the food. 

“You know,” Ron began, setting down his knife and fork from the main meal of chicken and potatoes, served elegantly on his plate, “I’m actually looking forward to the wedding now if it’s going to be like this.” He cast his eyes over to the table where Percy and Audrey sat with her parents and Audrey’s brother and sister. Percy appeared to fit in perfectly with them all, sitting straight, taking small bites, looking rather serious. Ron smirked. “And it looks like Percy has found the perfect family for him — more respectable our mischievous bunch.”

“Ron!” his mother scolded, though she did cast a nervous glance Percy’s way — as if she wondered if Percy might have been happier with the family he’d found with Audrey. 

Music had played through the whole evening, and as people began to finish their main courses, some ventured out onto the dance floor. They weren’t a bunch of dancers, these people, and honestly, the music wasn’t that great anyway, but it seemed to entice the rowdier people, including Bill and Fleur, Harry and Ginny, and even Molly and Arthur. 

“Maybe we should dance, too,” Hermione said to Ron, her eyes following Harry and Ginny as Ginny dragged Harry away.

“With this music?” Ron asked, scoffing. “No thanks.” He smiled at her as George also stood up, perhaps in search of a drink. “Though, I did like dancing with you at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. Bill’s a lot more fun than Percy, though.”

Hermione returned his smile. “I liked that, too. I think about that often.”

Ron stared at her. “You do?” They hadn’t even really been together then, and neither of them had brought it up until now. He’d always thought for her, it had just been a dance, and for him… for him it had been a moment where he’d contemplated kissing her, but hadn’t. He’d liked being alone with her, touching her... and the fact that she’d still chosen to dance with him with Krum as an option had pleased him more than he’d ever admit. 

“Of course!” Hermione said. “It’s the only time we’ve ever danced together.”

“We’ve never been anywhere to dance since then,” Ron reasoned, though he was being convinced by just her presence and her words. 

“Well, now we have an excuse,” Hermione said, and she offered her hand to him from where they sat. “Dance with me?”

For a long moment, Ron watched her, unable to hide his smile. She was the most beautiful, amazing person in the whole world and he just loved her so damn much. Not a moment went by where he didn’t want to hold her, or kiss her, or run his fingers through her crazy hair. He thought the absolute world of her, and in their two years together, his feelings had only gotten stronger. 

Tonight, they were celebrating the engagement of his brother, but soon, Ron hoped everyone would be celebrating for him and Hermione. He wanted to marry her. As she smiled back at him, hand proffered, looking radiant under the light, he made up his mind. 

“I can’t come to lunch tomorrow,” he said abruptly. 

Hermione lowered her hand and frowned, understandably confused by the sudden change in subject. “I’m sorry?”

“I just remembered — I have some work to catch up on. Didn’t finish it in the time frame and it’s due on Monday... sorry.”

“Oh, well… I’ve already invited your parents…” She eyed him suspiciously, like she knew he was lying. 

“Great, then you’ll have company!” Ron now offered his hand to her. “I accept your request to dance. I love dancing with you.” He grinned. 

Hermione watched him for a moment, as if she was trying to work out what he was up to. But even if she did, she said nothing, instead taking his hand and jumping to her feet. 

As they weaved through the tables to reach the dance floor, Ron could only smile like an idiot. He was going to ask Hermione to marry him, and he was going to do it with the finest ring he could find. 

[star-light-imagines]

Hey, can I request some headcannons of Dabi, Zuko, and Sesshomaru with a s/o that like cutesy things and bright colours. Pretty much the opposite of them. Thank you.

Dabi, Zuko, Sesshomaru Headcanons

Anime/Manga: BNHA, ATLA, Inuyasha

Warnings: None

Enjoy this cutesy goodness! 💕

——————————————————————————-

Dabi didn’t think he would fall for you. He thought you were to good and pure for him. he would watch as you got excited over the littlest things, how you would bring color back into his life. Even though you are the complete opposite of him he didn’t mind, he would do anything for you because one of his main priorities is keeping that smile he loves so much on your face.

“Dabi! Look I learned how to make flower crowns! - and that’s not all, I made us matching ones!” You say happily while storming into his room.

“You expect me to wear that don’t you.” He says with a smirk

“Well I did make it especially for you.” You say while flashing a smile at him. He knew he couldn’t say no once you smiled at him the way you do, then again when was he ever able to say no to you. Dabi took a flower crown from your hand and put in on his head and smiled down at you.

“I hope you realize I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.”

“You always make me feel so special.”

-Later that day-

“Is that a flower crown?!” Himiko asked while trying to suppress a laugh.

“Say one more word and I’ll burn you.”

He is usually stressed out due to his work with the League of Villians, during these times he likes to be around you even more. You are his light in the dark that always seems to relax him. You fill his life with love he never knew he needed even if you can be childish at times and want to do things he isn’t interested in.

“Hi honey bun! I know you had a hard day so I rented some Disney movies and set up these fairy lights for us.” You say with a smile while he walks into the room.

“That’s good.. but why is there stuffed animals everywhere?”

“Whenever I watched Disney movies growing up I would watch it with my stuffed animals and I’m not going to break the tradition now.” You say with a giggle.

Dabi only really laughs around you. You are the only person to make him laugh until his stomach hurts and most of the time you don’t even try to make him laugh when it happens. However other times you do because you miss the sound of it.

“Dabi... hugs?” You say while looking at him form the bed as he gets dressed for work.

“Come over here then.”

You walk over to him and start to put your arms around him but at the last minute to tickle him and he laughs before finally being able to capture your hands in his.

“What was that for princess?”

“You always look sad before you leave for work.. I wanted to make you smile this time.”

Dabi is actually pretty good at dates. He knows what you like and what would make you happiest just based on what you say around him. He makes it his priority to plan all the dates even if you two can’t go on them often. However even if he doesn’t let you plan the dates you still try to do things for him, like bake his favorite desserts or write him love letters.

“Where are we going today?” You ask happily while you two walk across a bridge.

“It’s a surprise.”

Dabi stops walking and you look around, a field of sunflowers is right in front of you and your heart skips a beat.

“It’s beautiful!” You say happily before running into the field.

Dabi looks at you as you run through the field laughing and smelling the flowers. “Yes, you are beautiful.”

He’s protective of you and wouldn’t like to see you hurt. He would do anything you need from him while your hurt or sick, and would even do more than you asked of him just because he wants you back to being happy and bubbly.

“Dabi you didn’t need to get all that medicine, it’s just a cold.” You say with a small smile.

“Stop complaining and let me take care of you.”

King Zuko likes having you around even though you two don’t have much in common. He likes getting to learn new things about you and spending time with you whenever he can.

“Y/N you told me last time how much you like being outside, so I arranged for us to take a stroll through the city today.” Zuko says before taking your hand in his.

“Really?! Thank you. There’s so much I want to do with you while we are there, like share ice cream together or play some games at the carnival in town.”

“Don’t rush, we have a lifetime together, we will fill it with all the things you can ever imagine.”

He is often stressed out with ruling over the Fire Nation and repairing the destruction that happened before his reign. You noticed this and try to do things for him that would help make him more relaxed, such as helping him with his paperwork or setting up moonlight picnics when he’s working late.

“Y/N not that I mind or anything, but why did you sign this form with a heart next to your name.” Zuko said walking into office where you were deligently helping him with his paperwork.

“It made it look more cute.”

“Princess, you are cute enough as it is.”

Zuko smiles and laughs but rarely and it has to be a good occasion. You always make it a mission to make him smile or laugh around you, whether it’s telling him puns or doing something cute for him like putting candles in line to form the words “I love you.”

“Katara he’s on his way! Thank you for helping me set this up!” You say before seeing her out the door.

“Of course! He’s going to love it Y/N.”

You finish throwing putting the roses in place before hiding so you can fully surprise him when he walks in. Zuko opens the door to be surrounded by rose petals and in the middle of the bedroom floor candles spell out I love you. He can’t help but smile before tears start to tickle his eyes.

You pop out from behind a chair and say “surprise! I wanted to do something special for you today!”

“I can’t put into words how much I love you Y/N.” Zuko says while pulling you into his arms.

Zuko doesn’t have much time to plan dates, every now and then he will plan elaborate and fancy ones fit for a queen or more lay backed ones that are usually last minute when his schedule clears unexpectedly. You are the one that plans any dates, you plan them for either things around the castle or trips where you both can get away for awhile.

“Zuko, here’s your bag. The boat is here, let’s go.” You say while taking his hand and start walking down the halls.

“What? Where are we going?”

“We are going to the beach for the weekend. I already had your advisors reschedule anything you had to do this weekend.” You say while looking back at him with a smile.

“How did I get so lucky to find you.” He says happily before picking you up and carrying you in his arms.

He’s protective over you and wants to make sure he can give you the best in life. He wants to be the best guy he can for you and give you everything you deserve. If you are sick? Best healers will be sent to the kingdom, if you are sad? Be prepared to be pampered with anything you want.

“I know you aren’t feeling well and even though it’s just the flu I brought you roses since they are your favorite flowers.”

“Zuko you brought like 100!” You say while laughing from the bed.

“I just wanted to make you laugh.” He says before getting in bed to cuddle with you.

Sesshomaru never fell in love with a human before, especially someone who loved life as much as you do. You taught him to slow down and enjoy moments and things he would have never thought about before. You made him see the the beauty in life that he didn’t realize was there.

“Sesshomaru, Rin and I were in the garden today and I saw these begonia’s and I thought they would look good in here.” You say while entering his office a placing a vase of flowers by the window.

“Won’t they just die in a couple of days?”

“Then I’ll replace them each time.”

He’ll never admit he actually loves the fact that every few days you come and replace the flowers and looks at them when ever he thinks of you.

Sesshomaru doesn’t show that he’s stressed out very often, but you can read him easily and like to do things to help him when he is stressed, like watching the stars together after he’s worked late nights or reading books from his ever growing library on calm afternoons.

“Y/N , Jaken told me to meet you out here tonight.” Sesshomaru said stoticly before sitting down next to you.

“Yep, the stars looked really beautiful tonight so I thought we could enjoy them.”

“It’s not the only that’s beautiful tonight.” He said while staring into your eyes.

Sesshomaru hates to smile or even laugh around you even though you two have become so close together. However sometimes you manage to make him smile when you least expect it and it usually ends with you being embarrassed.

“Y/N, wake up.” Sesshomaru said softly while waking you early in the morning. He had just gotten back from a trip he had to make across the land and it’s been about a week since you’ve seen him.

“Sesshomaru you’re home!” You say before jumping in his arms.

“Yes. Now what is that?” He said pointing to a doll you had made that looked like him.

“I got lonely while you were gone so-“ you said while blushing and he started to laugh at your expression leaving you speechless.

“Good thing theres no reason to be lonely now.”

Sesshomaru as much as he tries doesn’t have the time to plan dates effectively, so you always make the effort to plan them. However he will do things for you often to make sure you know he cares like giving you your favorite flowers or bringing you gifts he finds while he’s out of the kingdom.

“Sesshomaru, are you free tonight?” You say eagerly.

“Yes. Is there a reason you asked?”

“I found a hot spring near here and wanted to go with you.”

“Fine, be ready by 8 to go.” He said with a small smile that contrasted his stotic words.

Sesshomaru doesn’t want to see you sick or hurt ever. He gets stressed out because he knows if you are sick there’s nothing he can do other than try to make you get better and the fact that you are human and you could die any day kills him on the inside because he can’t imagine his life without you anymore.

“I don’t want anyone coming in this room until she is well. Also don’t let her walk around the castle while I’m not here and especially not outside-“ Sesshomaru dictates to his guards while you are sitting on the bed.

“Honey, I’m fine I don’t even feel sick and it’s just a cold.”

[ressyfaerie]

Fanfic request: Kai/Tysons first kiss and how you think it would go down! (English Dub names please!) :)

This is sooo hard because I have at least 3856859 different AUs of their first kiss aaahhh. I can't decide if I want this one to be angsty, fluffy, or everything in between aaahh! Regardless, I’m going to write something good! Okay I’m done, it ended up being much longer than expected AND i really self-indulged in this one we've got flowers, cars- just I know you’ll like it. 

I’m popping this into a read more after the intro because it's a bit long for the dashboard lol.

“Is there a note?” 

Ray eyed the flowers suspiciously. 

Tyson held the wooden planter box in his arms, “uh- I don’t think so?” 

“Who would send a planter box instead of just cut flowers?” Hilary thought it was the worst kind of romantic gesture. 

“Look!” Max dug his hands into the flowers. 

“What kind of flowers are these Tyson?” Ray asked, eyeing the blue petals with awe. 

“They’re Himalayan blue poppies… They’re not easy to grow.” 

Max pulled out a small slip of paper hidden in the stems. 

“How do you know so much about gardening?” Hilary had no idea when he found the time to pick up a hobby that was so- unlike Tyson. 

“I found my mother's old gardening books! I’ve been taking care of the dojo gardens on the weekends since grandpa’s back is so bad- what does the note say?” 

Max read it out loud, “A unique flower, for a unique person.” 

“Do we recognize the handwriting?” Kenny fixed his glasses, analyzing the situation. 

“It’s been typed.” Max pointed out while flipping the note around for everyone to see. 

Tyson inspected the flowers. He had never seen blue poppies before, they were one of his mother’s favourites. 

“Whoever sent it, they know me well.” Tyson smiled. 

“How come?” Ray asked. 

“I don’t like cut flowers. I feel bad when they die. I like getting flowers that are alive.” 

The room went quiet as everyone racked their brains trying to think of the possibilities. 

“Who would know these things about you? Even we didn’t know you liked flowers!” Hilary pointed the fact out, some of the team members nodded, she had a good point. 

“A lot of people know that I garden… But very few know that my mother really liked these flowers… She wrote about them a lot in her gardening books. To my knowledge, no one’s ever seen them but me, Grandpa, my dad, and maybe Hiro.” 

Ray stroked his chin deep in thought, “It could have been a friendly gift? Not romantic at all?” 

Tyson nodded, it could have been, but it felt- romantic. No one he knew would do something like this, it didn’t make sense. 

“I’ll put them outside, for now, maybe we will think about it later.” Tyson left the room to place them in his corner garden outside. 

The gravel crunched under his feet as he made his way to his small greenspace. He placed the planter with the rest of his stuff. He wondered who would have sent them, but he had no time to think; they had a party to attend at the BBA in less than two hours, and he still hadn’t even started to get ready. 

As expected, the dojo was now in chaos. Like most teenagers, they left everything to the last minute. None of them had experience with formal attire. 

“Does anyone here know how to tie a tie?!” Ray frantically displayed handfuls of ties. 

“I do!” Kenny grasped one of the ties and tried to tie it on himself, before transferring it over to Ray. 

Kenny was much too nervous to tie a proper knot, Ray found himself cringing as their time crunch got shorter and shorter. 

Max had locked himself in the bathroom, probably doing his hair. 

Hilary was god-knows-where, Tyson still wore regular clothes. 

“Where’s Kai? Isn’t he the formal clothes expert?” Tyson fiddled with dragoon while sitting cross-legged in the middle of the dojo. 

“That’s a good idea!” Kenny stopped trying to fiddle with Ray’s tie, “where is he?” 

“Wait, wasn’t he driving some of us?” Mr. D said another driver will come to pick us up…”

“No, I’m certain we're all going in a limo.” 

Tyson started to panic, stuck between trusting Kenny or Ray, now that was a difficult decision. 

Hilary bellowed as she slammed the door open to the dojo. “Tyson! WHY aren’t you changed yet?” 

“I!” 

He started a lame excuse but she raised her voice again, “stop fiddling with that hunk of metal and go upstairs and put on your clothes right now!” 

“Who died and made you boss of BBA formal parties?” 

“I’m literally the party planner.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Fine!” Tyson got up and dusted off his pants, “but I’m going to complain the whole time, and I’m taking a shower!” 

“You don’t have time for a shower!” she slapped a hand to her forehead in exasperation. 

“Too bad.” Tyson stuck his tongue out at her. 

Upstairs, he took his time getting into the shower, it was fine if they were late for the party anyway, they didn’t have to be there on time. 

He washed his body, got out, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and blow-dried it. He even put on some make-up so he could feel extra fancy. He tied his hair up, admiring himself in the mirror, he looked so grown up now. His hair was long, and he loved tying it up traditionally. He ran a hand through his blue hair. He winked at himself, knowing he looked hot. 

He opened the door with just a towel wrapped around his waist, he left clothes on his bed he was going to wear. Beside his clothes, sitting on his bed was his silver-haired best friend and rival, dressed in a well-fitted Italian cut suit. 

Kai looked him up and down, “you should have been ready by now.” 

Tyson’s cheeks blushed, “why are you alone in my room?” 

Kai patted the dress shirt he left on his bed, “apparently Tyson Granger can’t dress himself- is this what you picked out?” 

“Yeah? What’s wrong with it?” 

Kai grinned, “Are you sure?” 

Tyson made sure to show he was offended, “it’s the nicest thing I own…” 

“I figured you’d say that.” Kai rose from the bed towards a hook on the door. He reached for a black garment bag that wasn’t there before. 

Tyson wondered where it came from, and when- did Kai just bring it? For him?

He placed it on the bed, undoing the zipper on the fancy black bag, “change into this.” 

“If it doesn’t look hot- I’m boycotting you.” 

Kai chuckled, “how do you boycott a whole person?” 

“It better look good on me, or you’ll find out.” 

Kai stood still, Tyson mumbled, “can you- can you turn around so I can change?”

“Oh, right- Yeah.” 

Kai walked towards the window and directed his attention outside, trying to ignore the fact Tyson was a towel away from being completely naked behind him. 

He heard the rustling of clothes behind him, and Tyson’s voice, “is everyone ready downstairs?” 

“They’ve already left in the limo Tyson.” 

“Limo!? You mean I could be in a limo right now?!” 

“You weren’t ready in time, so now you have to go with me, you’re lucky I stayed behind.” 

“Not like you aren’t usually fashionably late Kai. You can turn around now.” 

Kai flung his body around, hopefully, he didn’t seem too eager to see Tyson in a suit. 

Tyson was awkwardly fiddling with his cuffs, he had no tie on, and his buttons weren’t done right. 

Kai sighed, “Here.” He grabbed one of Tyson’s arms and started to straighten his cuffs, “Can you do your tie?” 

Tyson felt his face flush in embarrassment. Kai fixing his clothes was, in his eyes, the opposite of manly. 

“I uh,” Tyson didn’t want to admit it, “don’t know how to do it.” He said in a hushed voice.

“What was that?” Kai finished with his other arm and moved on to his buttons. 

“I don’t know how to tie a tie okay!?” Tyson avoided eye contact. 

Tyson had realized catching Kai's smile was becoming more common. 

Kai gave him one of those grins now, “it’s okay, I’ll do it for you.” 

“Can you teach me? I want to do it myself…” 

“No time, I can show you later though.” Kai reached into the black bag and pulled out a dark blue tie, it was soft with elegant subtle swirls on it. 

Tyson’s eyes widened in awe, he had never seen anything so fancy, and he was expected to wear it?!

“Where did you get this suit from?” Tyson asked as Kai adjusted his collar on his shirt. 

“Mr. Dickenson asked me to get you some nice clothes. I picked it out, I thought it would look good on you.”

Tyson felt an electric shock as Kai reached around his neck placing the tie on either side of him. 

“It was expensive.” Kai’s eyes met his, Tyson tried to keep his mouth closed, “don’t get food on it.” Kai threatened him. 

“I won’t!” Tyson’s voice squeaked. 

Kai worked on the tie while biting the insides of his cheeks, he had to refrain from touching Tyson’s chest, he compromised by running his knuckle along his pec while pulling the tie tighter. 

The delicate touch was not missed by Tyson, who felt a burning sensation flow up his spine. 

“There.” Kai stepped away when he was done with the tie. 

Tyson turned to a full length mirror he had on another side of the room. His eyes glowed when he got a look at himself, “Woah! Kai!” 

He did a twirl for the mirror, “Kai you made a good choice, this does look good on me!” 

Kai placed a hand in his pocket, “I told you.” 

It suddenly occurred to Tyson, he had never been in Kai’s car. He knew it was nice, He knew it was a supercharged sports car, but that was about it. Kai was particular who he let look at it, and now, he was letting Tyson sit passenger. Tyson stared at the white car in awe, he didn’t know much about cars, but it was obvious it was a big deal. 

Kai opened the passenger door for him, “are you getting in or are you going to stand there all night?” 

Tyson shook his head, “y-yeah! What kind of car did you say this was again?” 

“I don’t think you’ve ever asked, it’s an Aston Martin Superleggera.” 

“Sounds fancy,” Tyson remarked while climbing into it.

Kai leaned towards him before closing the door, “it is- put on your seatbelt.” 

The first thing Tyson noticed, Kai didn’t drive like someone in their late teens, he drove like an old man.

“For someone who’s incredibly late- you sure aren’t going anywhere fast.” 

Kai had one hand on the steering wheel, “you want me to go faster?” he blinked in surprise.

“Well, you have a turbo-charged sports car.” Tyson grinned, “send it.” 

“I didn’t know you were into fast cars?” Kai remarked. 

“Hell yeah, I am.” 

“Hold on.” 

Luckily there weren’t many cars on this road. 

Was it illegal? Don’t tell anyone.

Did Tyson realize that Kai shared the same adrenaline habits he did? Absolutely. 

They drove fast, Kai made turns expertly, Tyson laughed and cheered. 

Slowing down his pace, Tyson could feel his heart racing, “that was awesome.” 

Kai gifted him another one of his rare smiles, the kind that was becoming more frequent. 

The party venue felt a little monotone, maybe it was in comparison to the adrenaline rush they just had. 

“Holy!?- Tyson?” Max rushed over to him with a glass of juice in his hand, “there’s no way that’s you in that suit?” 

“Sure is,” Tyson’s face screamed happiness. 

Walking into the main hall, Tyson recognized everyone from his past tournaments, his old rivals, friends, everyone was excited to see him. 

Tyson became swarmed with people greeting him, Kai excused himself, to hide away in the corner. 

“What’s going on?” to his right side, Ray. 

“Not much, you?” 

Ray handed him a glass, probably juice, he took it. 

“Just finished saying hi to everyone, are you going to make the rounds?” Ray knew it was a  stupid question. 

“I’ll talk to whoever talks to me first.” Kai took a small sip of the glass. 

“Are you dancing tonight?” another stupid question from Ray.

Kai gave him an obvious expression, “you think I would?” 

He didn’t say no; Ray took the opportunity to squeeze humanity out of Kai, “out of everyone here, who would you dance with?” 

Kai surveyed the room, it caught Ray by surprise, he was actually thinking about it. 

“Probably Tyson-” Kai needed to think of a good excuse fast- “because I’m more familiar with him than anyone else.” He took a sip of his juice. 

“So then dance with him? You know everyone probably will by the end of the night.” 

Kai chuckled with his mouth in his glass, it fogged up slightly, “no, that would be weird.” 

 “I’ll ask him first if that makes you more comfortable.”

Kai shrugged in response. Ray patted his shoulder, placing down his empty glass on a nearby table, and he made his way towards Tyson who was already dancing in the middle of the room. 

Towards the other side of the room, Kai saw Mr. Dickenson in the corner of his eye, waving for him to come over to the group he was with. Kai rolled his eyes, he saw Hiro over there too. 

Reluctantly, he made his way over, he wasn't going to ignore Mr. Dickenson. 

The group had formed a circle, Miriah was there, Emily, Judy, and Michael. 

Kai gave everyone a friendly greeting, then they started making casual conversation, then it got down to business. Kai waved his hand in the air, “I’m not here to talk about the Hiwatari company tonight.” 

Hiro gave him an angry expression, but Mr. Dickeson understood, and so did Judy, they all kept making casual conversation. 

“Hey, weird question guys.” Miriah held up a pink phone with a picture on it.

Emily pointed to the screen, “Do you guys know what kind of flowers these are?” 

They piled around it, Max showed up behind them to check out the picture as well. Kai and Hiro saw the screen simultaneously, in unison they responded: 

“Himalayan blue poppies.” 

Hiro and Kai locked eyes immediately. Instantly ready to square up. 

“How do you know that?” Hiro’s voice had a hint of anger. 

“I’m not allowed to know a type of flower?” Kai spat back. 

Miriah squeezed herself in between them, “Calm down! Tyson got sent some- we don’t know who sent them.” 

“They’re my mom's favourite flower.” 

Max watched the situation, he stared at Kai, “no way…” he said under his breath.

The blond-haired boy grasped Kai’s arm, pulling him out of the group, far away from the angry brother. 

“Thanks, Max.” Kai was glad he managed to sneak him away without anyone noticing. 

“No problem dude.” Max smiled. 

Ray appeared beside them, with a worn-out Tyson by his side. 

“Kai, your turn!” He shoved Tyson into Kai. 

Tyson wasn’t expecting it, stabilizing himself by holding on to Kai’s shoulders, “Ray!” 

“Sorry!” 

Kai unconsciously helped Tyson keep his balance… by holding him by his waist. 

Tyson pulled himself away, Kai’s hands glided along his waist. 

“Apparently… You wanted to dance with me?” Tyson gave Kai an expression he couldn’t read. 

“I didn’t want to- I mean- if you want to?” Kai’s face turned a shade pinker. 

“Sure- I mean, if you want to?” Tyson swallowed, but his throat stayed dry. 

“Just go!” Ray pushed them towards the dance floor. 

Max yelled to Ray, “Ray! I have to tell you something…” 

In the middle of the dance floor, the duo had no idea what to do. 

“Um-” Tyson awkwardly placed his arms around Kai’s neck. 

“Isn’t that the female way..” Kai remarked

“Shut up!” Tyson felt awkward for some reason, even though before this, he danced with a dozen boys- and girls. 

Kai placed his hands on his hips, wondering how he ever ended up here. 

“Here…” Kai grasped one of his hands, keeping one hand on his waist. 

Tyson’s hand that wasn’t wrapped in Kais, was placed on his shoulder, he slowly let it slide towards his neck, playing with the loose strands of hair, focused on the way it shimmered in the lights. 

“How do you know how to dance?” 

“Rich boy.” 

“Really?” Tyson laughed, imagining a young Kai learning ballroom dance. 

“I can also play some piano.” 

“Wow, what else can you do rich boy?” Tyson titled his head, unconsciously teasing him. 

“Some violin, calligraphy in English, Ballroom dance, paperwork…” 

“I’m surprised you’re telling me this.” Tyson admired his face up close, when did he get such a cute face? 

Kai held Tyson closer, his face centimeters away from his, “if you tell, no one will believe you.” 

Tyson let out a hard laugh. People in the room began to stare, but they didn’t notice, they were lost in their own little world. 

Kai felt sweat form in between Tyson’s palm and his, but he didn’t care. He watched his blue hair sway, and his lips curve into smiles, he blinked suddenly, becoming aware of the way he was looking at him. 

Kai let go of Tyson, taking a step away from him, “sorry- I’m going to get some air.” 

Kai disappeared into another room, leaving Tyson flustered on the dance floor. 

Outside Kai closed the metal door behind him, he held the railing of the balcony. “What am I doing?” he whispered to nobody. 

“Sending him flowers, driving him around, dancing with him- Why can’t I just-” 

He heard the door open and close behind him, “Are you alright Kai? You left so fast…” 

Hearing Tyson’s voice was liquid ecstasy. He closed his eyes, absorbing it, before finding the courage to turn around. 

“I’m fine.” He gave Tyson a grin, but Tyson saw through it. 

“You’re all in your head,” Tyson remarked and stepped closer to him. 

Kai had his back to the railing, he couldn’t run away anymore.

Tyson was too close, he looked in Kai’s eyes, deep into his mind, looking for any sign that something was off. 

Tyson lifted his hand, and rested it on his cheek, “what’s going on with you?” 

Kai felt his whole body melt, pure happiness, absolute comfort. At the next words, he felt like he could float away-

“You know you can tell me anything right?” 

Kai felt his lungs stop working, no air, his brain fired electrical impulses at lightning speed but no thoughts were being created.

“Did you send the flowers?” Tyson kept his hand on Kai’s cheek. 

“Y- yeah,” Kai admitted, still not breathing. 

“How did you know about them?” 

“You leave your mothers journals everywhere-” 

“And you read them?!” 

“No- Well, yes. But I wasn’t reading her writing, I was reading your notes on the sides.” 

Tyson remembered a sticky note he put on a page, mentioning where he could get seeds for his mother's favourite flowers, that he so desperately wanted. 

 “Why?” Tyson’s voice was serious but so calming. 

Kai closed his eyes momentarily, then opened them.

“I think I like you.” 

Neither one of them dared to move. 

Silence, for minutes, as Tyson’s hand stayed on Kai’s face, growing colder by the minute. 

“I’m sorry- it was weird, I shouldn’t have said anything.” Kai tried to turn his face away from him, trying to brush off the encounter. 

“No!” Tyson used his hand to push Kai back to his original position. 

Kai’s face grew red, Tyson’s did too.

“I! I think that-” Tyson blubbered trying to find the right words, Kai gripped the railing behind him. 

“Ah- screw it-” Tyson’s eyes were damp, he stared at the sky before taking a deep breath.

“Ty!-” 

Tyson’s lips were pressed against his. He didn’t know what to do- he had wished for it for so long- and now, all of the sudden? 

“Mm!” Tyson made some noise as he kept doing it, messy, but fun. 

Kai used his hands to run through Tyson’s hair from the back of his neck, grabbing the back of his head and a handful of hair, pulling him closer.

Their bodies were against each other, they could feel each other’s hearts trying to leap out of their chests. 

Kai tried to pull away, to get some air- Tyson grabbed his tie and pulled him back into him, making out with him more. 

Finally, Tyson let Kai go, he was still chocolate he was told not to have, and he wanted more.

“What- I, Tyson?” Kai stumbled over his words. 

 “It’s alright Kai.” Tyson gave him a quick kiss on his soft lips, “it’s okay.”

[lokitrashfan]

A/N: Chapter 5!! it is longer than I intended, but I got lost in the moment, I hope you like it.

Warnings: None, it is mostly a private fluffy moment between Winter and Loki

Summary: Winter shares a private day with Loki

Tag list: (Taglist is open, if you want to be tagged or untagged just ask mee!) @twhiddlestonsstuff @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @fckwkndd @delightfulheartdream

Winter woke up between his arms. Her face was still in his chest, listening to the soft heartbeat. They had stayed together all night sitting on the sofa in the common room. Softly speaking until she drifted to sleep, cuddled in his arms she slept without any dreams. For the first time in months she woke up feeling rested. 

She moved a little and Loki woke up too. For a moment he held her closer, and then releasing her slowly, he felt all the warmth in the world in his chest. How could someone warm him up so much? She was all heat and brightness. Even if her mind was haunted and her heart a stone, she was still good. Winter was the only one to come to him. She was the one he wanted to share all his secrets with. Stupid little mortal that had bewitched his mind and body. 

Winter sat and looked at the man - God- sitting by her. He was really dreamy, with his long black hair and fair eyes. His face was sculpted, all hard edges and strong lines. Everytime she looked at him she could feel her heart beating stronger, trying to escape her ribcage. He was so nice to her. Always helping her, making her coffee and after last night, keeping her secrets. She felt the urge to touch him, to be closer, as if the night spent between his arms was not enough. It would never be enough. 

Loki smiled softly and got up, saying something about coffee. Winter followed him silently to the kitchen, not knowing what to do with herself. “Thank you” She said at last. “Last night you helped me a lot, and I slept without dreams, as you promised”

“It wasn’t me” He said with his back to her, Loki didn’t want to look at her, fearing she would discover his yearning for her in his face. 

“What?” She asked innocently.

“I did nothing with your dreams, I only helped you with the memories, but I did not temper your dreams, I just held you to calm you, but I did not use my powers.”

Winter felt weird. If he had not used his powers to make her nightmares go away, then why did she sleep so well? Maybe it had something to do with her remembering. Maybe it was just that her mind was a bit clearer. But she also had the feeling that Loki was the reason behind it all. 

“So, Valerie” he said her name with caution, expecting her to scream at him for using her real name, “do you want to do something different today, we are still alone”

Winter liked the way her name, her real name sounded in his mouth. She could not stop the thought of hearing him say her name again and again. “I like it when you say my name, as long as we are alone when you do it. But that aside, yes, I want to do something, any idea of what we could do?”

“We could go for a walk, the compound gardens are large, and I think you have been inside all the time you have been living here. Maybe a bit of sun will help you clear your mind.” He felt that, even if she had slept well, her mind was still troubled with lost memories. And he had the urge to spend time with her. He wanted to show her his favourite spot of the gardens, he also wanted to hold her and kiss her, but he knew that was something that would only happen in his mind. And even if they could spend all day together, he would be very careful and avoid touching her. His body still burned after having slept with her in his arms.

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

They headed outside, the sun bright against the blue sky, but not as hot as it should be. Even if it was spring, a chilly breeze evolved them. Loki was wearing normal clothes, something he had become used to. In the compound there was no use to his armor or his fancy asgardian robes. He had to admit that midgardian clothes were quite comfortable. He even had put on a jacket that he did not need, but something had told him that maybe Winter would be cold at some point.

Winter on her part had been much more optimistic about the weather when getting dressed. After the shower she had felt really hot and decided to go with just a band t-shirt (that had probably belonged to Stark) and a thin cardigan. She walked happily beside Loki, even if she had no idea where they were headed. 

Loki felt her by his side, even if they were not touching, he could feel the warmth emanating from her. Maybe he was just delirious because his hands were aching for her. He clasped them behind his back to control himself, he could not lose control like this. Something about her sparked something in him, something that he would not give into. He had to control himself with her, even if he desired to touch her and hold her, he would be careful that it did not happen. He was not strong enough to relinquish seeing her at all, he had found a friend and he was not ready to give it up.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked slowly, not sure if he would answer. 

“There is a little spot beside the river, I like going there to read, it is really peaceful.” 

They passed a few trees and there was it, a little clearing by the river, concealed between the trees. Green grass forming a soft bed. There were a few wildflowers too, growing below the trees. The sun illuminated it from above, but the trees formed beautiful shadow patterns in the ground. 

Winter loved it instantaily, it was personal and private, something that seemed to belong to Loki alone, but he decided to share it with her. 

They spent hours there, just watching the river. Sometimes they talked but they mostly stayed silent. Loki read meanwhile Winter inspected the flowers closely. There all her problems seemed to disappear in the clear water of the river. It was a piece of paradise. 

As the sun began its path down the sky, Winter began to feel how the breeze entered her body, freezing her to the bones. Loki softly placed his jacket on her shoulders, smiling to himself when she seemed to disappear in it. 

“I knew it” He said more to himself than to her.

“What did you know?” She said looking at him suspiciously.

“That you would be cold, that’s why I came with a jacket, as if I needed it” He laughed softly.

“You don’t need a jacket because you are a manly man and being cold is beyond you?” She said more amused than annoyed.

“I don’t feel the cold, it’s one of the things about being a frost giant” Loki looked away, suddenly afraid of her reaction. Had no one told her that he was a monster? He knew for sure that someone had told her about his anger issues. 

“What is a frost giant?” She asked.

He would have to show her. He hated showing people his true form. But he had to. Loki had seen her past, her memories, she deserved to see this part of him. Maybe she would accept it with no further questions, but he knew that it was just a fantasy. She would be scared, and she would stop hanging out with him. 

“You know I am from Asgard, but not exactly. I was adopted. My true heritage is Jotunheim. The ice realm. So I am a frost giant. My true form is different from everything you have seen. I don’t feel the cold because my body is always cold. I can do some things too, like freeze things…” He didn’t want to continue, so he let the words die in his throat and looked at her. She did not seem scared… yet.

Slowly, he let his illusion banish. The tips of his hands started to turn blue and Winter let out a small whimper as she looked at the transformation. She was amazed. She clasped her hands to stop herself from touching him. She could sense how this was really important to him. Showing her his true form. He was letting her enter in his most private places. The blue reached his face and she noticed the scars in his skin. If they were scars… It seemed more of an intricate design running and decorating his skin. She was perplexed. She had never seen something so beautiful and strange. 

“Can I touch you?” She asked before she could stop herself form asking suuch a stupid question.

“You want to?” He was more surprised by the question than anything else. How could she be okay with this? She seemed curious, interested. She nodded and he brought himself closer. “Okay”

Winter raised her fingers slowly, going directly to his face, but she stopped before touching him and lowered her hand to his. He was colder than normal. She supposed that his illusion not only changed his appearance, but also his temperature.

Loki closed his eyes, her skin was even warmer if possible. Fire against ice. It was something he had never felt before. No one had burned like her. But he wanted more. He wanted her skin against his, he needed it as if it was the air he breathes.

Her hands explored his arms slowly, touching him as softly as she could. He was cold, but there was something in the touch of his skin that made her fingers tingle. She wanted more. She followed his marks all the way up his arms, to where his shirt occulted them, trying to follow the patterns to his collar, trying to decide how they connected to the marks in his neck. She finally reached his face and she felt like burning, her hands burned in the cold of his skin. Winter continued tracing his marks, stopping shortly in his lips. She wanted to feel his lips in her skin. 

“Valerie” Loki whispered, losing his control with the feel of skin against skin. He slowly encased her hand with his, stopping her movements to softly kiss her fingers, feeling the heat. His cold breath drew a strange sound from her. A surprised, low sigh. She moved her face closer, she wanted to feel it in her own lips. 

“Loki… I…” How could she explain this feeling? Their lips were mere centimetres away, and neither of them wanted to pull away. 

Loki’s phone started ringing then, breaking the spell. The moment was lost and both of them returned to their senses, moving away from each other, letting their hands fall. Loki was back to normal in less than a second, cursing internally as he picked up the damned phone. The Avengers were coming. 

[serasvictoria]

Hoya kerrii

So me and @basilone have a shared headcanon that Chuck loves gardening and somewhere in between that and me watching a couple of episodes of Gardener's World that I had DVR'ed, I somehow ended up with another AU.

In this one Chuck basically ended up with a tv show at one point or another and since Tab is his publicist, I'd like to think that he played a very active role in making that happen. While Chuck is out in a garden center one day, he runs into someone that has no idea who he is and that needs his help making a particularly tough decision which is where this particular story starts.

“How do I improve my soil?”

“When should I plant out my tomatoes?”

“How do you prune your roses?”

“What flowers work best in a shaded garden?”

Chuck kept smiling and politely answered every single question that he got. He had long since learned that it was the best way to treat the attention that he inevitably got. All that people wanted was advice and sometimes a picture or an autograph, that was about it. As long as he made sure that everyone got an equal amount of time, they would simply fan out and leave him be. Sure, he’d still get stares and the occasional “Isn’t that…?” but people generally left him alone after a while.

It took about ten minutes for the small crowd to disperse. In the end the only one left was a very animated older lady who was very eager to talk to him. She spoke an equal amount about how she applied his advice to her garden and about her single granddaughter who was apparently around his age. He didn’t inquire any further about the latter. He’d heard that kind of thing many times before and ignoring those kinds of offers always worked for the best. At the start of his career, he hadn’t wanted to be impolite so he had ended up with many hastily scribbled phone numbers that he never did anything with. It was all far too embarrassing if you asked him. When he hadn’t commented on the granddaughter even after he had been shown her picture (cute, but not his type), the woman eventually took the hint, thanked him for his time and left him to his own devices.

He walked towards the plants, which had been his main objective after all, and checked out what they had on offer. He needed new ideas so he was on the lookout for something that he could write or talk about. New trends such as colours or decor, that sort of thing. And then there were the continuing improvements to his own outdoor space. Whenever he walked through his garden in the early morning hours, he usually managed to find some tiny little corner that he wasn’t completely satisfied with or plants that simply hadn’t thrived. There was always some kind of project to keep him occupied, which was exactly how he liked it.

From the corner of his eye he could see that a young woman was looking at him and he was already mentally preparing himself for questions about which plants would compliment each other or which seeds worked best in which soil. The usual. It took her another minute to finally approach him and he produced the most friendly smile that he could muster, but when she finally opened her mouth, he realised that she hadn’t recognised him at all.

“Excuse me,” she began and the first thing that he noticed was her pink sparkly lipgloss when she talked. “Can you help me?”

“Um.” Oh. She thinks I work here. “Sure thing. What do you need help with?”

“I’m a bit out of my depth I’m afraid.” She smiled apologetically as her eyes darted from plant to plant. “I don’t know anything about plants.”

“Well, you’ve asked the right person.” He couldn’t help but smile at himself over that particular comment. “Garden? Balcony?”

“Apartment.”

“Flowers or green?”

“Green.”

“See? We’re getting somewhere.” She started laughing and didn’t look quite so nervous anymore. “Follow me.”

When they walked over to the section where the green house plants were, he took another chance to look at her. Her dark hair was short and messy and he couldn’t quite figure out whether the messiness was accidental or intentional. She was wearing a denim jacket that was emblazoned with various pins (the one that instantly stood out was one that said “send nudes”). Her jeans stood out because of the various flecks of paint on them, same as the Converse sneakers that she wore. Her tote bag declared that “art makes everything awesome” and that, paired with the paint, made it pretty obvious what she did when she wasn’t hanging around in gardening centers. Another thing that he noticed was that every time that she took a sip of her water bottle, he caught glimpses of her stomach, because her faded black shirt kept riding up.

“I take it you want something that’s easy to look after?”

“Yes. The last plant that I had was a cactus when I was a teenager,” she cringed visibly, so whatever was going to come next probably wasn’t good. “I thought it was doing really well. Flowered and everything. And then one day when I tried to move it, the top just snapped off.”

“Snapped off?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what happened.”

“Probably overwatered it.” It was a very common problem. People either gave a cactus too much water or not enough water. “So no cactus this time.”

“Oh god no. The cactus incident has left me traumatised.”

“Nightmares?” She started giggling. “About cacti hunting you down to avenge their fallen friend?”

“Something like that.”

“I hate it when that happens.” He nudged his elbow against her arm in a gesture that was probably a bit too familiar, but she didn’t comment on it. He merely got a smile in return. “Wasn’t your fault. To put it simply, you just loved that plant to death.”

“That’s one way of looking at it.”

“Sadly, they haven’t invented a plant that can’t be killed yet and if they did, they certainly haven’t told me about it,” he said as he pointed out a few plants to her. “But these don’t need a lot of water so maybe they’re your best bet.”

“Which one would you go for?”

“Hmm. Rubber plants are nice,” he pointed one out to her, “But they can get quite big and I don’t know how big your apartment is.”

“I don’t really fancy ending up with something that’s as massive as a giant redwood tree.”

“And what if I were to guarantee you that they won’t get that big when they’re houseplants?”

“You’ve already put me off them now. You could just be trying to sell me a plant that gets massive just because I know jackshit about them.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” he replied with a laugh. “That would just be cruel.”

“But I don’t know that, do I?”

“Okay, okay. Fair enough.” His eyes fell on a snake plant. “Any pets?”

“A cat.”

“Me too,” he said cheerily. “So no snake plant then.”

“Will it constrict the cat?”

“Not that kind of plant. They’re toxic to dogs and cats.”

“What about that one?” His eyes followed her finger to a small rather unassuming plant. “It’s cute.”

“Hoya Kerrii.” He picked one up and held it up in front of her. “Sweetheart plant. Some people give them to loved ones at Valentines and paint messages on them.”

“Tacky,” she wrinkled her nose at that particular piece of information, obviously not agreeing with that at all. “It’s adorable. Is that one easy to take care of?”

“Very. It likes the sunshine and you water it when the soil goes dry, but don’t let it stand in water. They don’t like that.”

“Sounds like my kind of plant.” He could hear the excitement in her voice. “Which one would you buy?”

“Let me see.”

He looked at the various plants and tried to pick out the one that looked best in his opinion. He felt her eyes on him which made him want to try harder for some reason, already wanting to impress her even if he barely knew her. When he had finally selected one, he picked it up and upon turning to hand it to her, he noticed that she was looking at something else entirely. When he followed her eyes, he saw that she was looking at a genuine store employee. They were quite easy to spot because of their green and yellow uniforms and their big name tags which were quite noticeable. So she’d finally figured it out. When he looked back at her, he noticed that her eyes were focused on his chest and his missing name tag. Her cheeks flushed pink when she noticed that his eyes were on her, because he had quite obviously seen that she had been looking straight at his chest.

“You…” Her voice was hushed and the embarrassment was quite plain to see on her face. “You don’t work here.”

“No.” He leaned in somewhat conspiratorially and with a low voice added, “I don’t.”

Before he got a chance to make light of the situation, to say that he didn’t mind that she had mistaken him for a store employee and that he had genuinely enjoyed helping her. The plan had been that when the slight uneasiness from her side had ended, he could offer to buy her a drink or something like that. That had been the idea anyway right before he heard a voice behind him.

“Jesus Christ. We’re supposed to be here for work and you’re using it to hit on women.”

“Tab.” He straightened himself out and turned to face his friend, his entire expression spelling out that he was busy, but that wasn’t going to deter Tab one bit. “I was helping this young lady out…”

“Sure you were. You like helping the ladies, don’t you Chuck?” Tab flashed the absolutely bewildered woman one of his winning smiles. “Can’t help yourself. So just ask her for her number and then we can go.”

“Fuck, Tab. Really?” Chuck turned back to her with an apologetic look on his face. So now she probably thought that he came to places like this just so he could pick up women. Great. “I’m so sorry about my friend. He’s being a complete dick as usual. Literally can’t help himself.”

“I um… I won’t interrupt you any further. Sorry to bother you.” She turned to leave and he cleared his throat which made her turn her head back in his direction. “Yes?”

“You forgot this.” He held out the plant, that she had seemingly forgotten in her eagerness to get away from him. “Hope it does well with you, but I have no doubt that it will.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” She took it from him and added a quick, “Would have been a shame if I forgot all about this little guy.” There was something almost reverential in how she handled the plant, as if it were to die on her if she didn’t treat it with respect which Chuck found incredibly endearing. “Little thing,” she murmured those words exclusively to the plant with a smile, but Chuck was standing so close that he could hear everything. “You’re coming home with me.”

“Miss?” He had to ask this now before she left. “You know, maybe I should give you my number so you can send me some pictures.” He moved to stand in front of Tab, completely blocking him out of her line of vision. Because he knew Tab. He’d probably pull a face or make some choice remarks about seeing this scene play out right in front of him. “Of the plant. Obviously.” To his relief, she instantly reached a hand into her pocket and produced her mobile. “Great!” He mentally slapped himself for sounding a little bit too enthusiastic and he knew that Tab would never let him forget about this. “I mean… I’ll just…”

He grabbed his phone as well and they exchanged numbers, tapping them into their devices as the other called out the digits. She looked up at him, a bit unsure over the next question that she was going to ask and said, “What should I… I mean, your name…”

Tab laughed and Chuck could see the confusion lining her face when she looked around him so she could look at Tab. His friend pointed towards the wall. When she noticed what was hanging there, her cheeks turned about as red as a tomato, because there was an advertisement on the wall for Chuck's latest book that was pretty hard not to miss. Chuck ran his hand down his face and groaned inwardly when he saw the poster with himself on it staring right back at him.

“Oh fuck.” She tapped on her screen again and it took her a few times to spell his name right since she was so nervous. “I swear I didn’t know that you were famous or anything…”

“It’s okay. Not like I’m Tom Hanks or anything.”

“You might as well be to people that are into gardening.” She’d obviously noticed the “best selling author” bit on the poster.

“I guess,” he said with a shrug. “And you? What should I call you? It would be a bit weird if I listed you as ‘sweetheart plant girl’, right?”

“Cat,” she blurted out suddenly. “My name’s Cat.”

“Chuck.” He held his free hand out to her when she had put her phone away. “Pleased to meet you.”

“You too.” Cat took his hand and hazarded a glance back up at his face with a slight smile playing on her lips. “I um… it sounded like you were busy, so I’ll leave you to it.”

“Not that busy. My friend’s just being an asshole.” He heard Tab huff in protest, but he wasn’t going to acknowledge his presence just yet. Upon looking down, he only seemed to realise that he was still holding her hand when she gave him a slight squeeze. In a move that was probably entirely alien for most men but one that made perfect sense to him, he dipped his head down, brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Looking up at her through his eyelashes, he said, “You have a very nice day, Cat.”

“I’m sure I will,” she replied with a slightly nervous giggle. “Bye.”

She was barely even out of hearing range before Tab said, “You just can’t help yourself.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“I’ll have you know that I wasn’t chatting up women for once.” Chuck snorted derisively in reply. “It’s true! Anyway, she’s your type so I get it.”

“No, she isn’t.” Tab barked a laugh and Chuck turned around to look at him. “Oh come on. Since you’re such an expert, what’s my type?”

“You know,” his friend waved his hand in front of him as if that explained anything. “Vaguely artsy.”

“Artsy? That’s not a thing!”

“Yeah, it is. It’s your thing, that’s what it is.” Chuck took a swipe at him and Tab stepped back, just out of his reach. “Okay, alternative then.” “Since when?”

“Since college! As long as they wore shirts of vague bands, you were into them. And need I remind you that you dated that goth chick.”

For as long as Chuck could remember Tab had teased him about his preferences in women. Chuck was widely considered to have a very positive and sunny personality so whenever he introduced his latest girlfriend, who was usually dressed head to toe in black, people were always understandably taken aback.

“She was not a goth.”

“Chuck, her eyes were so black, she looked like a fucking raccoon.” Chuck rolled his eyes even though he couldn’t deny it. “I had to listen to her ramble on and on about how she was convinced that Robert Smith was God every time that she was stoned. She was awful.”

“She was alright.”

“Whatever. I’m pretty sure that you only liked her because of those tight leather pants she always wore and because her bottom lip was pierced. I know you. You were probably wondering if she had more of those on parts of her body that you couldn’t see.” Chuck shook his head with a laugh. It had definitely been one of the reasons why he was interested in her. “And you never told me if she had any other ones.”

“A gentleman never tells.”

“Fuck off.” Tab jerked his head towards the exit and patted the breast pocket of his dark blue button down shirt, indicating that he needed a smoke. “You’re a naughty boy, Chuck. If only those bored suburban housewives knew about that.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Don’t you bullshit me. I just caught you putting the moves on some poor unsuspecting woman.” Tab knocked his shoulder against Chuck’s. “Maybe you should send her one of those pictures I keep posting on your Instagram.”

“One of those… what do you call them again?”

“Thirst traps.”

“Yeah, those. Ridiculous things.” Tab always took pictures when Chuck wasn’t looking. When he’d just wiped a dirt caked hand on his shirt or something like that, because apparently that was what women wanted to see. “Just ‘cause you send pictures to women with your shirt off doesn’t mean I have to.”

“They work a fucking charm. I’m just saying.” Several eyes were on them as they finally made their way outside with Tab leaning into a group of young women to whisper “Yes, it is him” which made some of them squeal with delight.

“Wish you’d stop doing that.”

“Fuck you. Helps sell the brand.”

“Just me walking by helps sell stuff?”

“DVDs, books, calendars, gardening tools… you name it, baby, and I’ll fucking sell it. It’s what you hired me for, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember. Don’t make me regret my stupid decisions now.”

“Whatever.” When they’d reached Tab’s car, he leaned against it while he smoked his cigarette. “You do what you love. What could be better than that? So what if I post a couple of pictures of your big dumb face when you’re repotting a plant. Chicks love that shit. Millions of ‘em follow you on Instagram for that crap.”

“Yeah well, I can still think that it’s weird, right?” Chuck dropped what remained of his cigarette on the tarmac and ground his boot down on it. “Besides, she had absolutely no fucking idea who the hell I was. It was refreshing.”

“I’m sure it was.” Tab flicked his cigarette away, unlocked the car and got in. “All those women throwing themselves at you and trying to fuck you all the time. Must be exhausting.”

“You’re exhausting,” Chuck retorted when he got in on the passenger side. “It’s not like I have a different girl in my bed every night. I’m not like you.”

“Trust me, I am well aware of that.” He pulled the car out of the parking lot and headed back to Chuck’s place so they could get back to work. “So. When are you going to send this girl a text then?”

“Don’t know yet.” Chuck didn’t really know what was acceptable in regards to that. He didn’t want to do it too soon and he didn’t want to wait too long either. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah right. You’ll send her a text the minute I’m not looking.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You almost jumped through the damn roof when she agreed to exchange numbers with you.” Before Chuck got a chance to disagree with that statement, Tab poked a finger into his side. “Sometimes I get the impression that you never talk to women at all. You need to play hard to get, dude. Not act like an overexcited puppy. Which is basically what you are anyway. A goddamn labrador.”

“The fuck! Am not.” Chuck knocked Tab’s finger away and laughed. “Just because you’re a silver tongued bastard doesn’t mean I have to be.”

“Do me a favour. If this girl doesn’t text you first, wait until tomorrow evening or something. Please. For the love of god.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just shut up and keep driving.”

“Chuck, promise me.”

“Okay, dad! Jesus Christ. I promise.”

“Give it to me.” Tab held his hand out and Chuck sighed deeply before handing over his phone. “I’m hanging onto this, because I know you, Grant. You can’t fucking help yourself. You’ll be texting her within the hour to let her know what a great time you had or some dumb shit like that.”

“I just promised you that I wouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah and then as soon as we get to your house, you’ll tell me that you need a piss and then you’ll text her from the bathroom. Not fucking happening. Not on my watch.” He stuck the mobile in his pocket and wagged his finger at him. “And you’re not getting it back until I leave. Alright?”

“You’ve made your point.” Chuck folded his arms and stared out the window. “You do realise that I’m an adult, right?”

“You can’t be trusted. No self control.” Tab reached over and patted his shoulder. “It’s okay though. That’s why you have me.”

“Scariest part is that you’re supposed to work for me.”

“Which is what I’m doing now.”

“Taking my phone is your job now?”

“It is on this particular occasion,” he replied with a big grin. “Anway! We were there for work! Did you get any ideas or were you too busy staring into that girl’s big brown eyes?”

“I got plenty of ideas. Trust me.”

“Good. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can have your phone back. Deal?” Tab held his hand out to Chuck which he shook almost instantly. “See, I’m not such a bad guy after all now, am I?”

“You’re an asshole, Tab.”

“You know you love me.” They finally pulled into the driveway and when they walked up to the front door, he still felt the need to add, “So stop thinking about that girl’s ass and the things you’d like to do to it for five seconds and focus on your job.”

“Tab, I swear to god, if you don’t give it a rest…”

As soon as he opened the door, Tab slapped the back of Chuck’s head and before he managed to do anything back, Tab had already disappeared into the house. He fought the urge to tackle him and instead leisurely followed him in, fully determined by now to end this as soon as possible so he could get his damn phone back. He followed Tab out into the kitchen and naturally two bottles of beer had already been produced. Tab was just about to open them when Chuck heard a pinging noise that he recognised all too well.

“Give it to me.”

“Jesus Christ, you are desperate.” Tab dug the mobile out of his pocket and frowned when he looked down at the screen. “Fuck’s sake. This had better not be a picture of a goddamn plant.” He held the phone out to him and when Chuck reached for it, he pulled his hand away. “On second thought, I’d better look at the picture first. Wouldn’t want you to get a heart attack if she actually sent you a selfie of herself in her underwear.”

“Come on, man.”

Tab rolled his eyes and handed it back to him without paying him anymore attention. Chuck swiped his thumb over the screen and looked at what she’d sent him. It was a picture of the small plant standing on what he assumed was the windowsill surrounded by painting materials and other items. The accompanying message read “Too much sun?” and he couldn’t help but grin to himself when he saw it.

“You’re pathetic.”

“Fuck you.”

Chuck texted back a split second later with a “Not at all. Looks fine to me.” He waited about another minute before sending another quick “You free tomorrow?” He saw the tell tale sign that she was typing back not too long after and his face lit up when he saw what she had sent back.

“I am. What did you have in mind?”

[crimson-snowfall]

Do you do soulmate aus? If you do could I please request the "first words your soulmate says to you appears on your skin" au with Arthur and La Comte?

I’m not really familiar with this concept, so for this one I tried to come up with something that not anyone would just casually say… you know, just to be sure.

Ikevamp HC request: “First words your soulmate says to you appears on your skin” (Arthur & Comte)

Arthur

You’ve heard that Arthur Conan Doyle is one of the residents of the mansion filled with vampires you suddenly found yourself in. He’s one of your favorite authors, so you were quite looking forward to meeting him despite the other residents’ warnings with regards to his flirtatious personality.

Arthur was out on some business with his publishers, and upon his return he heard that a new resident from the future had come. For some reason he couldn’t explain himself, he couldn’t help but excitedly anticipate his meeting with this newcomer.

Arthur woke up late the next morning so he missed his chance to meet you during breakfast, so he prowled the mansion in search of you, only to find you tending to the flowers in the garden.

Arthur was absolutely mesmerized by the sight of you. For someone who has been suddenly thrown into an unfamiliar world, the way you conducted yourself was dazzlingly graceful, and you even had that small smile on your lips as you carefully did your work in the garden.

Arthur wondered how can anyone possibly be as carefree as you when you’re literally a prey in this den of vampires, and that was when your gaze met his.

You didn’t notice that Arthur had been slowly approaching you, so he was already considerably close when your eyes locked with his. You immediately found yourself drowning on those bottomless pools of sapphire that were his eyes, and you could feel your cheeks steadily accumulating heat.

The stranger before you had a contemplative expression when you first spotted him, but after locking eyes with each other for a while, you saw a sexy, confident smile appear on his lips.

Arthur held out a hand, taking your hand in his and placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand without breaking eye contact with you.

“Is it just me, or this little dove seems to have taken a fancy on me?”

You knew that the words written on the middle of your back were quite unusual for anyone to say from the time you came from (because seriously, who would refer to a stranger as a “little dove”?), so when you ended up in 19th century France where such language was more common, you believed that fate must be at work and this is where you’ll finally find your other half.

You connect the dots– the man before you has a distinct English accent and his approach and demeanor is unmistakably that of a big flirt. Tears of joy began to well up in your eyes as you realized that it’s none other than Arthur himself.

“So it’s you… at long last, I have found my destined person.”

You breathlessly utter those words, but Arthur heard it loud and clear, as though it resonated with the wild beating of his heart in those moments. At first, he doesn’t have a single clue as to the significance of the words he found written on his forearm upon his rebirth as a vampire. Hearing your words, however, then maybe it’s just as you said.

Arthur pulled you closer and wiped off the tears threatening to spill onto your flushed cheeks. “So it seems, you pretty little dove.”

Comte

Your first tour in Paris couldn’t possibly get any more uneventful. First, you left your purse in the hotel room you’re staying at, and now you’re completely lost. Your feet is starting to hurt terribly since you’ve been walking on circles for quite some time now.

Before you knew it, you’ve become so distracted with your frustration that the next thing you know– you’ve tripped and now you’re falling.

“Careful now, chérie. You know what they say, angels have a tendency to fall every now and then.”

A man in gold suit with golden hair, golden eyes caught you in his arms. Everything about him is gold. You stared at him curiously for a decent amount of time.

Did he just compare to you an angel? The aristocratic and unreal aura this golden man exudes makes you think that he’s the angel… but one that has taken the fall a long time ago.

But more importantly, those words… why do they sound so familiar? You were so out of sorts that day that you didn’t realize that those words are the exact same words written on your right thigh.

You’ve zoned out for a full minute now that the silence is starting to get awkward. “Chérie? Are you alright?”

“O-oh! I beg your pardon monsieur… that was very rude of me, but for some reason I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

Comte was kind of relieved you briefly looked away or else you would’ve seen how his eyes widened in surprise. He had long given up on the notion that he would ever hear the words written on his torso come from someone, and he never would’ve guessed that this is how he would meet his fated one. It took a lot of his self-control just to keep himself from embracing you tightly on the spot.

“I don’t mind, but you don’t seem to be yourself. Are you lost perhaps? Having a bad day? If you don’t mind my company, we could always talk about it over some sweets. I happen to know a good place.” Now that he’s found you, there’s no way Comte’s just going to let you off easily.

You’re starting to grow convinced that there’s something special about the gentleman before you given that he just read everything on your mind, and you realized that you’re hungry too. You took him up on his offer and ended up having a great time with him.

It is only when you’re about to part from each other, when you’re back to your sound and normal self, did you realize the significance of the first words he spoke to you. You chased after him.

“Excuse me monsieur! I know this is a little sudden, but can we meet again?”

Comte knew at this moment that you finally realized it, and with a knowing smile he accepted your offer, “It would be my pleasure. I usually have my breakfast in this place, and it would be a delight if you are to join me again for tomorrow.”

Gee, 5 more to go, and I must admit I’m kinda tired now. Might as well take a little break from requests too after I’m done with the ones currently in my inbox, but fear not, I actually have a couple of HCs myself I’ve been wanting to write for quite some time now :3

[forehead-enthusiast]

Viscaria

Pairing: Crown Prince!Jeno x Reader

Genre: fluuuuuuuuuffffff (my friend described it as cavity inducing sweetness), royalty!au, somewhat a cinderella!au tbh

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: The prince is throwing a ball, and even commoners like you and Jeno are invited.

A/N: sorry this wasn’t up sooner!! even though its a bit late, i hope you’ll give this a read thank you!! also look up ‘viscaria flower meaning’ if you want

.

"Have you heard about the ball the prince is throwing?"

Only from every other customer that'd strolled into your store today with their clothes to be mended and gossip to be shared. Still, you could humor your most frequent visitor.

"Oh do tell, Jeno."

The boy leaning across your counter beamed, his handsome features scrunching boyishly. He'd made a habit of dropping by, always with some small request he'd use as an excuse to chat. You never minded, happy for any company, but especially his. He'd energetically tell you about whatever was buzzing about the village, and small stories about his everyday life- that is, when he didn't giggle too much to recount them properly. He’d tell you about his work as a gardener, tending to flowers and befriending ladybugs.

Jeno was not a gardener.

It was the only lie he'd told you. Even that pained him, but it was necessary in order to avoid a commotion every time he snuck away from the castle and his princely duties. Whenever he grew too overwhelmed, too bored, too frustrated, he'd shed his usual clothes and replace them with ones he borrowed from the castle's actual gardener, and head straight for you.

He'd first stumbled into your store without meaning to, dodging a few castle guards coincidentally walking by. Once he'd gathered his bearings, though, and looked around, he knew he'd have to come back again. He'd seen sprawling gardens, majestic paintings, buildings made of gleaming marble, and yet had never seen anything as beautiful as your little store. Vivid scraps of fabric and thread littered the floor, like a patchwork made of other people's lives, with little bits of their memories strewn about. Streaks of light speckled the floor from a window made hazy from dust. Pins and buttons glittered in the blurred sunlight, more dazzling than any jewel. It was breathtaking.

And then he saw you.

Jeno had never believed in love at first sight, or in angels, but you changed both of those beliefs in an instant. He watched as you dusted off your hands and swept your hair back with your palms, your brow furrowed as you focused on your work. He didn't speak a word, too captivated to risk breaking this moment.

"Oh, hello! I'm sorry, I didn't see you. How can I help you?"

"...What?"

You looked at him questioningly. "How can I help you? What do you need repaired?" Your gaze fell upon a large tear in his cloak. "Oh, I see." He looked around, then followed your eyes to the same rip, and realized it must've happened just before.

"A-ah, yes. That."

"Well, I can fix something like that quickly, if you don’t mind waiting a few minutes."

He nodded eagerly at the chance to spend even a second longer with you, and wondered how much clothing he could intentionally tear in the future before you’d realize his true motives. 

Now, many months and many visits later, Jeno was perched in your store yet again, eyes alight at the prospect of a ball. 

"So it's said to be held at the end of this month, and everyone in the kingdom is invited!"

"Oh, how exciting for them!"

He practically wilted at your response. "Them? What about you?" It's not as though he'd planned this whole thing just to have a chance to dance with you or anything. It's not as though he'd imagined holding you in his arms as you swayed to the dreamlike music in his head countless times.

You laughed. "Jeno, please. What would I do at a ball? Besides, I think they'd take one look at me, all covered in grease and rags and turn me away before I even got inside."

"Well, first of all, you would dance." With me, he yelled internally. "And there'd be delicious food and wonderful music. And even if you just wore what you're wearing now, you'd still look b-beautiful."

You blushed to hear those words from his lips.

"Well, I- thanks." A kind of pink pause hung softly in the air. "B-but still," you composed yourself, "I wouldn't feel comfortable around all the fancily dressed people. I'd just want to curl up and hide."

"So if you had a fancy dress, you'd go?"

"Yeah, sure," you replied casually, expecting this to be the end of the conversation.

"Then I'll get you one!"

"...Does the gardening business pay that much better than I suspected?"

Jeno wracked his brain for an excuse that would soothe your suspicious expression.

"M-my sis-" You already knew he had no siblings. "My mo-" That just seemed weird for some reason. "My, um, my aunt! Has a dress. That she could lend you. Definitely. And if it doesn't fit, you can just tailor it yourself! She won't mind at all, I promise. It'll be perfect!"

You struggled to find an excuse, but despite all his stuttering, it didn't seem like a bad plan. Plus, he was clearly dying for you to go. You wondered if he was just desperate to go himself, and needed another commoner to make him feel at ease, and hesitated to reject his offer.

"You should go, I'll-" his voice caught in his throat as he tried to think of a way to be honest without, you know, giving away his whole identity. "I'll meet you there."

"Jeno…" Not entirely persuaded, you turned to protest, only to look into his expectant eyes and relent. "Fine, I'll go. But if I end up looking awful or spilling something on the royal family, that's on you."

He grinned. "No problem!"

.

Jeno paced the castle corridors, thinking up ideas for the dress he'd give you. It didn't actually exist, after all. He'd thought up a plan- ask the royal tailor to whip up a dress, slip him a few extra coins for his silence, and sneak it out to you. It felt a bit odd to order anything from a tailor other than you. However, that feeling was greatly overpowered by the fact that he got to choose a dress for you. He didn't know much about clothing, yet infinite ideas filled his head when he pondered about what would bring out your beautiful eyes, what would look nice on your skin tone, what you would like, most of all.

He used every ounce of brain power he had, rainbows of fabrics swimming around within his mind. Eventually, he spat out a haphazard combination of all his ideas to the dressmaker, and just hoped for the best. He flushed when the tailor chuckled at his request, and sighed with relief when the man promised to keep it a secret.

Now all Jeno had to do was wait.

It wasn't as easy as it sounded. He wanted desperately for it to be done, to bring it to you, to know for certain you'd be at the ball. He tried to busy himself with the organization of the event, but could never prevent his mind from wandering to you.

Finally, what felt like decades later, he visited the dressmaker again, anxious with anticipation. With a glint in his eye, the tailor unveiled his creation, and watched with satisfaction as Jeno's eyes widened.

.

"Y/n! It's been awhile! I brought my…" What had he said again? Oh, right! "My aunt's dress!"

You looked at the bag he held out eagerly, and hesitated to take it. "She's really lending it to me? And letting me alter it if I need to?" You took it gingerly from Jeno, and marveled at the weight of the parcel. "How can she afford things like this?"

"She's, uh… in crippling debt."

"That's terrible!"

"Um, yep! It's so bad. I actually can't stay, but I'll see you at the ball!"

Jeno hurried out the door, with last minute preparations for the ball to complete. Or, as you assumed, incredibly urgent gardening duties. 

You felt rather remiss he had to leave so quickly. Of course, you were happy to have the dress and a ball in your future, but you treasured his little chats far more. He seemed busier and busier these days. You missed the idle time you shared with him, and flushed as you wondered when he'd become such an important part in your life.

.

The morning of the ball arrived. Despite your original reluctance to go, your heart pounded as you washed yourself and combed through your hair. You weren't exactly an expert in the appearance field, but you did your best to make yourself look as high class as you could, and were fairly proud of the results. You slipped into the dress, more luxurious against your skin than anything you'd ever experienced. It luckily hung long enough to cover your shoes, which were simply your own, and desperately outclassed and unfit for a ball. The dress, much more suitable for the occasion, hadn't needed many alterations, but with a little hemming here and there, it truly looked like it was made for you. Which it was, but you never would’ve guessed that. 

You looked at your reflection in your dusty mirror, and felt your breath hitch in your throat. Your eyes fell to take in the beauty of the dress directly.

It was a masterpiece. It was like a watercolor painting, with a myriad of colors layered upon one another. The skirt was covered in lace and embroidery of small pink and purple flowers, like a whimsical meadow draping over your legs. You wondered what kind of flowers they were. The fabric was light and airy, and seemed to float on the wind at every movement you made. Words simply couldn't do it justice. 

Jeno's aunt had marvelous taste.

.

You hurried towards the palace, careful not to let your skirt drag on the ground. As you reached the steps, you felt that same reluctance you once had about attending return. The building before you could've fit countless of your stores within it, and its magnificence intimidated you. This wasn’t somewhere that you ever imagined welcoming you. You closed your eyes, and thought of how Jeno's eyes sparkled when you agreed to go. You walked up the steps, your old shoes taking you towards him.

.

Jeno waited for you inside, licking his lips nervously. What was he even so nervous for? You said you'd come, and he knew you wouldn't go back on your word. Still, it was killing him to sit around and smile at everyone except you. He'd danced with a few others, politely making small talk, all the while wondering what you were doing. His eyes flicked towards the entrance every few seconds, and he was always disappointed when you weren't there.

And then suddenly, without warning, you were.

Jeno’s heart stopped.

He forgot how to breathe when he saw you. He’d seen the dress before, he’d seen you often enough to recall your every detail, and yet, he couldn’t fathom how stunning you were in it. You seemed almost iridescent in the light of the chandeliers- every inch of you glowed as you stepped in. He stared at you unblinkingly, desperate to burn the image of you into his mind. The way the opalescent petals cascaded down on you, the way your hair curved around your cheekbones, the way your star-filled eyes flicked around the room, the way he knew they were looking for him- everything about you made him fall in love all over again.

He knew eyes were following him as he approached you slowly, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Your eyes lit up as they found him, and you hurried over to him. In your carelessness, your heel caught on the bottom of your skirt, and you cursed yourself as you toppled forward. You scrunched your eyes shut and waited for the pain of falling to come, but it didn’t. You cautiously looked up as you recognized the feeling of smooth fabric against your cheek.

Jeno was beaming above you, still a little awestruck. His hold on your shoulders was more tentative than usual. It almost felt as if the whole room was looking at you two together, although you couldn’t imagine why, and you flushed.

“H-hi, Jeno.”

“Hi.”

He helped you straighten up, and you laughed awkwardly, annoyed that you’d embarrassed yourself already. Jeno didn’t seem bothered, and you envied his easygoing nature.

Once you’d gathered your bearings, you took in the ballroom around you. It was truly stunning. You’d never seen anything like it in your life. Everything seemed to sparkle- a far cry from your dust-covered store. Melodies flowed sweetly into your ears. It was as wonderful as Jeno insisted it would be; you couldn’t deny it. Your gaze circled back to Jeno’s smile, the most breathtaking sight in the room, and fell onto his outstretched hands. 

“What is it?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Did you forget that you’re meant to dance at these? Or… wait, do you not want to? ‘Cause if that’s the case I won’t make you! I shouldn’t have asked, I-”

Jeno’s mouth clamped shut as you took his hands with a laugh. 

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to.”

Jeno shoulders relaxed happily, and he led you onto the dance floor. Your skirt just grazed the marble tiles every time he spun you, as if it were dancing too. You wondered where a gardener learned to dance so well. He guided you with unexpected confidence, graceful as a swan gliding across a glossy sheet of water. Your heart had always had a habit of racing around Jeno, but looking at his elegant self now, and feeling his hands firmly holding you, you wondered if you might die from the way it quickened. 

The song finished, but Jeno didn’t let go.

His hand pressed against the small of your back, pulling you tighter against his chest.

“Just… a little longer. Please.”

The feeling of your body against his, the rhythm of the music still pounding in his chest, the way your breath tickled his jaw- it was more intoxicating than all of the fantasies that had persuaded him to throw this ball in the first place. He wished the clock would stop ticking, and allow him to just live in this moment for eternity.

He finally let you go, a reluctant smile on his face. You wondered if he’d felt your racing heartbeat through your bodice, and tried not to show how breathlessly enamored with him you were.

With the natural grace you still weren’t used to, he led you outside to a nearby terrace, and grinned as he saw you take in the view from the balcony with wonder.

“Jeno, isn't it just the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?”

His eyes followed the moonlight melting on the curve of your nape, the outline of your shoulders.

“...Yes.”

You turned around to see him sitting on a marble bench, watching you blissfully. Lifting your skirt carefully, you hurried over and plopped down next to him. The layers of your gown rippled into a hypnotic melange of hues, and you found yourself admiring it for the thousandth time.

“Thank you for getting me here, Jeno. For the dress, the dance, the persuading,” You laughed, remembering his persistence. “For everything.”

Jeno gazed at you as you dreamily looked off into the distance, and wondered what he should confess first, his feelings or his title.

“Y/n, I… I want to tell you something.” He still hadn’t decided what when the words fell from his lips. Your eyes slid over to him, your head following suit, and you inched closer to him, waiting for him to continue.

“Y/n, I… I’m… I don’t know how to say this, but…” Words like “royalty” or “prince” caught in his throat, and he hesitated, averting his eyes.

“I think I know what you’re trying to say, Jeno, I… feel the same way.”

He stiffened.

“You- you what- wait, that’s not- I was going to- I do, but-”

“Your highness.”

You looked around in confusion until you saw the royal attendant standing a little ways back. He didn’t seem confused, but you certainly were.

“Prince Jeno, the king requests your presence.”

Your eyes widened, and your heart dropped. You stood up, at a loss for words as the pieces began to fall into place. You looked at Jeno’s face for confirmation and got it.

“Y/n, wait!”

“Your highness-”

“Not now!”

Jeno struggled to force his way past the attendant as you ran off. You didn’t know what to think- all you knew was that you wanted to go. To leave, and return to your store and see the gardener you were in love with waiting for you. To forget what you heard, to forget the guilty look in his eyes, to forget the way his hands fit in the angles of your body.

You raced down the steps with all the haste you’d avoided throughout the night, removing your shabby heels the second they caught on the hem of your dress. You left them behind, too desperate to escape all the beauty of the palace. Your carriage raced off at your demand, just as Jeno reached the top of the staircase. He watched as your carriage was lost in the swarm of others just like it, and sighed with frustration, sitting down right where he stood. He huffed, trying to catch his breath.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a pair of slippers laying on their side a few stairs down. They were dull against the polished steps of the castle, and he walked slowly towards them. He picked them up gingerly, and pictured you walking barefoot down the dusty cobblestone road back to your house. He took it with him as he trudged back inside.

.

“Jeno, your behavior last night was frankly unacceptable.”

Jeno only half listened to his father’s scolding, too depressed to do much of anything.

“Dancing with some unknown girl, leaving with her, and to top it all off, dashing through the ball yelling like some madman? What on earth were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all? Of course you weren’t.”

“...Uh-huh.”

“And that girl, why, she was out of line too, causing that disturbance. I was overjoyed you took the initiative to hold a ball, but why did you bother if you were just going to spend time with one girl?”

“Because she’s the only one that matters.”

The king looked taken aback by Jeno’s answer. His gaze softened as he looked at his son, always so full of energy, slumped over with sadness. 

“What happened?”

“She didn’t… she didn’t know. About me, about you, she thought- she thought I was a gardener.”

The king chuckled at the idea, although discovering you were just a peasant wasn’t exactly ideal.

“I love her. I think she loves me too. Loved me, maybe. She found out and-” He buried his face in his hands as he recalled your betrayed expression. “She ran and I ran and she didn’t turn back and she just looked so hurt and I’ve ruined everything. God, I love her so much. I love her.”

“Are you going to go see her?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. She probably doesn’t even want to see my face ever again. I don’t want to just… make things even worse.”

“Knowing you, you probably will.” Jeno finally looked up to see his father grinning, before his features hardened into a serious expression. “But as the future king, you are forbidden from cowardice. You cannot lead people if you yourself are lost, and that is far more inexcusable than running through a ball.”

Jeno’s jaw dropped. He wasn’t exactly expected to be encouraged, even in this stern manner.

“What do I even do? She knows I’m not a gardener now, but she doesn’t know the ‘prince-’”

“Don’t go as a fake gardener, or a guilty prince, just- drop the roles. Go and be honest. Work from there.”

“...Thanks, dad.”

Jeno’s father waved him off nonchalantly and sighed as he left, wondering if he might’ve just lost his heir. So be it, either way. There wasn’t any point, any justice to keeping around his son as just a shell of himself, forever longing for something. He wondered what you were like. He hoped he’d get to meet you some time, and smiled to himself. Not to the him that was a king, but the him that was just a father to one foolish son.

.

Jeno ran down the streets he knew well, clutching what you’d left behind in his hands. He’d only wrapped a cloak around himself, and knew he must be getting recognized by at least a few villagers, but couldn’t worry about anything but you. He burst through the familiar door.

“Y/n!”

“Je… Your highness.”

There you were, your eyes red and shoulders stiff. You hadn’t managed to sleep. You were half expecting he’d come, but prepared for the future where you’d never see him again. Yet, now he was here, gasping for air in your entryway.

“Do you need something?”

Your thoughts spilled out of you, as inappropriate to say to a prince as they were.

“Was it fun? To mess around with a peasant and play pretend? To make me believe even for a second that you, that someone like you would ever care about someone like me? Was it funny to see me get my hopes up, to see them completely dashed, was it funny?”

Jeno didn’t answer, absolutely speechless, and you fought the urge to cry even more.

“Is there something I can do for you, or what?”

Jeno’s heart slowed, and he felt a lump in his throat grow as he looked into your eyes. He took a few deep breaths. Cowardice was not an option. Cowardice, hesitation, that had led him into this crisis in the first place.

“Um, yes. I have these shoes, you see…”

He held up the slippers you’d abandoned, and you reached for them, embarrassed to see them in the hands of royalty. He pulled back just in time, and you only managed to grab air. He smiled, his heart still shaken.

“They belong to a friend of mine. Well, friend is kind of an understatement. They belong to the person who means more to me than anything. They, they belong to the person that I’m in love with, you see,” he gulped, unable to meet your eyes as he spoke, “And I might have screwed up everything with that person, which is, well, it’s devastating to be honest, but I still love them more than they could ever know and I always will, and, and, and, I don’t know what else to say except how much I love them, and how much I love you and-”

“Please stop talking.”

Jeno looked up to see streaks of tears on your cheeks, ever so slightly smearing the remnants of last night’s cosmetics.

“...I’m sorry I lied to you. i’m so sorry. I liked just being Jeno with you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I’m in love with Jeno.”

“W-what?”

“I said I’m in love with Jeno. But you, you’re not Jeno, you’re a prince and one day you’ll be a king and I’ll still be here, sewing up tears and hemming pants and wishing Jeno was here.”

“I’m still me, y/n.”

“I know that, but…”

“I’m Jeno. And I am a prince but if you don’t like that, I can be whatever you want! I don’t care, being a prince means nothing to me. I can be a gardener for real, or I could be a tailor with you, but you’ll have to teach me how to sew. I could be a- a- a butcher, or a cobbler or a baker or anything, I can be anything you want me to be.”

You smiled despite yourself, and tried to keep your voice from quivering.

“...I just want you to be mine, Jeno.”

Your slippers fell from his hands onto the floor as he embraced you. You wrapped your arms around him too, still uncertain about most everything except your feelings for him. The warmth of his hands on you was familiar, unchanged. You breathed in his scent, the one you knew by heart. It was your best friend in your arms, the one you knew all too well and were hopelessly in love with.

“I’m yours.”

His thumb slid under your chin, lifting it slightly so he could press his lips to yours. He held you tightly, the way he had when you spun beneath chandeliers, and you could hear those melodies in your mind as you memorized the shape of his lips. He tasted almost floral, and his breath in your lungs was sweet like dew on petals and fresh air after rainfall. Your hands glided up his arms, then to his shoulders, up his neck, until they touched his windswept hair, still messy from when he’d been running. It was messier now, with your fingers woven into it, and softer than you’d imagined in the times when your mind would drift off.

It was hard to think much as he kissed you, about his hair or anything else for that matter. His lips pressed eagerly against your cheeks, your nose, and you found yourself giggling at the ticklish sensation. He smiled too, his lips returning to yours, and you leaned into his kiss. “I really do love you,” He murmured quietly, as if unaware he was speaking at all. His whispered confessions melted into your skin wherever he kissed you, covering your body in promises of love.

“I love you too.”

Jeno looked at your breathless smile, hugged you tighter, and lifted you off the ground to spin you around with ease. Scraps of fabric were swept into the air, fluttering around in feathers of all colors, falling slowly through the hazy sunshine. He set you down gently, ever so slightly dizzy.

It was a far cry from a ballroom, your cramped little store. Dusty sunlight instead of glowing chandeliers, and no gorgeous gowns or elegant music to be found. Still, Jeno���s arms were around you, and you swayed to the sounds of each other’s blissful sighs. 

His hand didn't leave yours as you sat down on the patchwork floor, and you flushed when he squeezed tighter.

"Y-you don't have to hold on so tightly."

"Of course I do." He threw you a sly sidelong smile. "Can't have you running away again."

"I won't!"

"Yeah," he breathed as he leaned against you shoulder, "I know."