#their second favourite flower is lavender

[angeryvoidchild]

After a long while, I did it. I draw non-chibi Vierna. That's how they look late- or post-game. Their dragon blood awakened, shirt lost, as beautiful as ever. The flowers they are holding are one of their two beloved types: thistle.

I'm not subtle at all.

[my18thcenturysource]

I don't know if you're ready for this BUT American Duchess and the Bata Shoe Museum just launched a collab collection called In Bloom.

They made 3 styles in several colours using 3 styles from the the 18th, 19th and 20th centuries from their current exhibition "In Bloom: Flowers and Footwear", and are currently in pre-sale, with estimated deliveries between July and August 2023.

Let's take a look:

We start at the 18th century with the Primrose shoes, based on their Dunmore model, accurate for 1770s-1790s they are embroidered on satin and are $179 USD while in pre-sale and later will be $199. The original style is in black and pink silk satin, and OF COURSE that's my favourite variation, but the green ones are a close second.

Images from top: 1780s shoes, Bata Shoe Museum / Primrose shoes, American Duchess.

From the 19th century we have this style called Flora, accurate for the late 19th century (1870s-1900), are $230 USD while in pre-sale and later will bee $250. This embroidered boots with satin ribbon laces are probably my favourite style from the collection. Of course my fave colour is black, which is also the colour of the original piece, but the lavender ones are just *chef kiss*:

Images from top: the original French embroidered boots by Francois Pinet, late 1870s-early 1880s, Bata Shoe Museum. / Flora boots, American Duchess

Finally, the 20th century style is the Daisy, accurate for the 1920s-1940s. A vintage style full of flowers and colour, this T-strap style is perfect to pair with a simple dress from any decade and have a very decent 6.3cm heel, so you can dance all night in these art deco shoes.

1920s shoes, Bata Shoe Museum / Daisy shoes, American Duchess.

The sales from the In Bloom collection will support The Bata Shoe Museum in their study, outreach, and conservation of historic footwear, and we're here for it.

More info:

"In Bloom: Flowers and Footwear"

Read more about the collaboration at the American Duchess Blog.

Buy the whole collection in pre-sale here.

Which style are you looking for the most?

[shadowbriar]

Regulus Black ‐ Jasmine, Lavender, and Poppy

Pairing : Regulus Black x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 0.6k Warning : Nothing, just pure fluff. Synopsis : Regulus made sure that she would never forget his scent ever again. Notes : My first blurb. Should I make more of these? If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕  

She remembers his scent well. That very special smell of oud and leather, something that portrays luxury and obscurity. Something that feels like home. Something that screams him— Regulus Arcturus Black.

But poking on Regulus has always been one of her most favourite things to do. Even before they were romantic, teasing him has always been second nature for her. His reactions have always brought her bliss. Their harmless banter is what fuels their day and it feels like the perfect time for her to pull the first taunt of the day.

"I don't smell you from the Amortentia," She lied, teasing her boyfriend whose brows are now pinched high from the offensive words she spilled "I smelled cinnamon, wet grass, and linen."

"Bullshit, I smelled you. There's no way you smelled someone else."

Shs shrugs, closing her textbook that hasn't been read ever since they entered the library, "Maybe you smelled wrong."

"I'm never wrong about these kinds of things."

"Yeah?" She challenges, propping her chin in the palm of her hand "What did you smell?"

"I smelled jasmine, lavender, and poppy."

"That doesn't smell like me. You're just listing random flowers."

Regulus raised an eyebrow, "Your perfume's base is jasmine. You drop a few lavender oil to your seal wax on all of our letters. Your garden is filled with poppies. You are jasmine, lavender, and poppy."

A smile blooms on her face. It was one thing to be satisfied by teasing your boyfriend and another to have him spelling the little details of you. Regulus has always been the observant party of the two, she just never realised how much of her he's taking notes of.

"Also, Love, your house is always decorated with those three flowers on every corner. You are what I smelled from Amortentia. You are my soulmate."

"Well, no one said Amortentia smells like your soulmate. They say it smells like someone you're attracted to so maybe that's why." She continues her scheme, concealing her blooming heart "Maybe I'm attracted to someone else now."

Regulus' brows rose higher, looking even more appalled at her words, "Are you being serious right now?"

She shrugs.

Regulus stood from his seat. Perhaps teasing him in the library when they're the last people there wasn't such a brilliant idea. Merlin knows what he might do now. Regulus might be a calm and collected person but wrong poke and you'll wake the fury inside him.

She started to inch away, pushing her seat back until it hit the wall, giving her no other space to escape. Regulus kneeled down, levelling to her eye level and eyes her deeply. His brows were still knitted in displease but his eyes were soft. Her plan to keep an aloof expression has evidently failed as a playful smile cracks on her lips, anticipating for his next move whilst praying that he wasn't genuinely angry.

"You're a menace." He says before kissing her.

Regulus pulled her chair closer, locking her in place as he put his hands on her sides. It wasn't like she's planning to leave, anyway. No one in their right mind would want to go when they're being kissed by him, especially with such an intimate and asserting position.

One hell of a man, Regulus is.

A victorious smile was plastered on her face when they pulled away. It was a short kiss. Just enough for him to prove to her just how wrong she is about the scents she's attracted to. Regulus knew that she was lying, that she was just trying to get his reaction, yet he complied with her charade anyway.

Regulus now stands from his position. He took off his robe, tossing it carelessly to the seat he occupied a couple minutes ago. He then takes off his jumper, making her cheeks burn from the sight. He surely knows how to keep her around.

"The library might not give you the best privacy if you're planning to go nude, Love." She comments.

Regulus rolls his eyes, handing her his jumper, "Wear it."

"Why?"

"So you won't ever forget my scent again."

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

THE MASK- J.B BARNES

Pairing: Boyfriend! Bucky x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Request: you convince bucky that every few months, your skin starts to peel off during your period :)

Warnings: nothing much, just swearing, readers period mentioned, the rest is all super fluffy and sweet<33

You drummed your fingers against the polished granite vanity, mindlessly gazing at yourself in the bathroom mirror. The drain from the soaker tub gurgled, the last remains of the warm water and lavender bubble bath trickling down the drain.

Bucky’s sweater hung heavy on you, the warm, fleece fabric draping down past your knees as you slid it on. Your skin felt like a baby’s bottom due to the lotion you had rubbed all over yourself, smelling of fresh linens.

It was the last day of your period, thank god- and all you could think to do to celebrate not dying was to reward yourself with a self-care day. It had been a stressful week, the hormones not helping any matters to your already stressful work life.

It had been a whirlwind of emotions, heavy flow, cramps so painful you thought they could be contractions, headaches… anything under the sun- you name it, you had it.

Bucky had been with you the whole way through, and you were beyond thankful for him and his thoughtfulness towards the matter. He had never complained, or found it gross. He just comforted you the best he could, and that was all you could ever ask for.

You thought of him now as the candle flickered in the corner, flames licking the air as you were deep in thought. You had done every self-care thing you could possibly think of, a warm bath, a candle, a good book, and some good skin care. You had even painted your nails earlier- which was saying a lot. You had never been able to make time for that.

The only thing you could think of was a face mask. You smiled, happy you had thought of such a brilliant idea. When was the last time you managed to do one? You couldn't even remember. Your skin would be very, very thankful- especially during this time of the month.

You crouched down, opening cupboards and drawers to try and find a mask. No luck. With a sigh, you grabbed your phone- background of Bucky and your kitty Alpine sleeping together on the couch peering up at you.

Dialing his number, you let it ring, though it was no longer than five seconds before you heard an answer.

“Hiya sugarplum. What can I do you for?” he asked cheerfully, and you couldn't stop the smile that blossomed across your face, and the way your toes curled in their fuzzy socks at the sound of his husky voice.

“Ohhh nothin much. Just wondering if you’re still downtown.”

“I’m meeting up with the guys in twenty minutes to grab the takeout and then we’re heading back. Did you need something honey?”

You heard a little thump from the bedroom, Alpine jumping down from his nest to trot over to you as you made your way to stretch out on the soft bed.

“Could you grab me a facemask from the drugstore? I’ll send you a picture of what it looks like.”

“Of course babe. And yes, please do because you know I’m no good with those things. Anything else?” There was a honk that sounded from his end, the sound of streetcars and bustles of people passing him by. You could bet a million dollars he was on Fifth, which was perfect since you knew there was a drugstore in that same area.

That made you feel less guilty about asking, even though he insisted that he enjoyed picking up little things for you. The dozens of flowers, stuffies and little things he had picked up on, like your favourite nail polish (when you did have the time to do them), your favourite sweets and goodies were stocked in your shared loft at all times to prove it.

“No that’s all baby. I’ll send you some money.”

“Oh hush your pretty lips. Mwah!” he kissed the phone, and before you could insist on anything, he hung up. You sighed, tossing your phone somewhere on the large bed, snuggling into a fuzzy warm blanket as Alpine joined for cuddles.

“We never can win with him can we angel? He’s so good to us.” you smiled, scratching under his chin as he purred loudly, claiming a spot beside your stomach to curl up in a ball.

“I guess we’ll just have to repay him with kisses when he gets home, won't we?”

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

The night was in full swing- although that didn't mean much for tonight. It was relaxing and laid back, takeout boxes scattered on the kitchen counter, hockey game playing on the flatscreen.

Bucky had returned right as expected, not only with a face mask but with your favourite chocolate as well. You nibbled on it now as everyone sprawled out on the couch, Natasha and Wanda joining the pair of you with Sam and Steve.

You sat tangled with Bucky, slumped back against his chest, the slight tickle of the facial hair bringing you comfort as you snuggled closer to him. It was then you remembered the face mask, now sitting on your bathroom vanity. You wiggled out of his gentle embrace, through the tangles of blankets and long limbs of your friends to grab a piece of popcorn, popping it in your mouth.

“You guys wanna do a mask?” you asked the girls after the buttery goodness has been swallowed, the guys too focused on the game to notice you had even stood up.

They nodded, and the three of you made your way through the hallway with Alpine on your heels back out to the bathroom. “Ooo a peel one? I haven’t done one of these in forever.” Wanda smiled, holding the bottle in the faint golden light as she read the directions.

“Me either. That's why I asked Bucko to grab me one.” You hopped up on the counter beside the sink, letting your feet dangle and kick against the wooden drawers as Nat held your hands out, examining your nails in the light.

“He’s such a sweetheart to you. I want him next.” Natasha sighed, and you kicked her thighs gently as she laughed.

“There will be no next dummy duck. Plus, Steve has been eying you up all night. For weeks now, actually. It’s making me want to vomit.”

“Like you and Bucky don’t do that all the time. It’s like you have a bullseye on your ass. And tits. And face. That man’s seriously in love, ya know.”

You watched as Wanada smeared the clear, jelly like on her face, and you did the same. It was cool to the touch, smelling faintly of citrus, and you relaxed as the mask started to harden on your face.

“Should I peel mine off in front of the guys to freak em out?” You giggled, knowing the look on Bucky's face would be priceless. You couldn’t want to go out and show him. The girls fought to keep a straight face as the timer went off, and the three of you walked out to the main room.

It was dim enough they wouldn't be able to see the edges of the mask, and the fact it was clear helped your case even more. You sat next to Bucky, acting as nothing had changed.

“So what's the plan for tomorrow?” you asked nonchalantly, starting to slowly peel the mask from your skin. It felt like snakes skin between your fingers as you felt it slightly tugging on your pores.

“Oh, I was just thinking we could sleep in or- WHAT THE FUCK?!” Bucky gasped, frozen and place as he watched you remove the mask. Steve and Sam sat up, startled at his sudden outburst, watching you with alarm

“What? Didn’t you know that women shed their skin during the last day of their period?” you asked casually, holding back a giggle as you saw Natasha and Wanda with their hands clamped over their mouths, fighting the fit of laughter at the guys reaction.

“No?! This actually happens?” he asked, mouth agape as the “skin” sat in your palm, flaking and dried at the edges.

“Well duh.” you shrugged and you watched as his eyes flickered over to Sam’s as to say what the fuck. “Oh so you’d love me if I were a worm, but you don’t love me now that I shed skin? Thanks baby.” you remarked, tone slightly agitated despite wanting to shake him silly.

“No, no it’s not that-”

“Oh you dumbass it’s a mask! Did you really think I was a snake?” you exclaimed, swatting his arm playfully. Natasha and Wanda couldn't hold back any longer, their laughter following yours as the guys calmed down.

“Well how was I supposed to know it's a mask? It looks clear!” he guessed, making you laugh even harder. “You guys are lucky you’re cute. Cause there's nothing up there.” Wanada joked, tapping her temple.

“You guys are mean. Really fuckin mean.” Sam sighed, head slouching back against the cushions while the three of you disposed of the masks.

“You love us.” you smiled, kissing the top of his head before you swung your body over the back of the couch- back into the safety of Bucky's arms.

“I love you the most though. My beautiful little snake.” he cooed, to which you rolled your eyes.

“Only yours babe.”

[eggyboyoart]

Kuya Dating HCs

[RATED 18+ bc of the nature of the game, NU: carnival)

…HOW?

SERIOUSLY HOW??

Getting Kuya to admit he cares about you is like trying to pull blood from a stone – its impossible

Though some males can be polyamorous, Foxes usually mate for life

once they’ve picked their partner, they’ll stay with them for their whole life; even if their partner dies early – which is especially poignant for Kuya because of his extended lifespan as a yokai

because of this, Kuya is one of the people I can actually see being exclusive with you

In my Yakumo HCs, I said most likely it would be Yakumo dating both you and Eiden

But depending if you start dating Kuya pre-Eiden Era or even early-Eiden era – he’ll be much more devoted to you than the new grand sorcerer (although Kuya will still torment him, lol sorry Eiden)

Kuya’s love languages are (weirdly enough) quality time and receiving/giving gifts

I KNOW it sounds crazy but here he out

For quality time – he is obsessed with you, in every way possible

He wants to be around you by any means, even through some mischief and trickery

Hes the type to pretend to be bored while listening to you rant about something, but he actually commits every word to memory

He also never misses an anniversary or milestone in your guy’s relationship

He’ll make any excuse to see you, from ‘he was just bored’ to ‘he left something here last time and he might as well hang out while hes here,’

For gift giving – 1) he loves receiving gifts and 2) he loves your face when he gives you the perfect gift

Kuya knows that he is not a very ‘honest’ partner – he doesn’t verbalise how he feels and basically has never said the words ‘I love you’

Which is why his gifts are so thoughtful and sincere

Whether its your favourite flowers, or something important to you (art, work, etc) – or even just something you eyed for an extra second in the market, his gifts are so meaningful and you can always tell there is a large amount of thought put behind it

He will never give it to you directly but rather leave it in a spot he knows for a fact you’ll find it and probably write some vague, sarcastic note (which more often than not, clues you into the fact that its from Kuya)

He’ll be watching from behind a corner (or hidden in the room with magic) to see your reaction because – while he is a smug man – he wants to make you happy

Kuya is a smug kisser – he knows hes good

I truly believe that while Kuya is a smug bastard, hes also a huge softie behind all of the snark and smirks

He genuinely cannot resist putting his hands all over you, though he’ll frame it as him simply trying to tease you in classic Kuya fashion

Kuya is the type to rarely use your actual name, only referring to you by nicknames/petnames that are designed to rile you up

‘little one’ and ‘sweet thing’ are for when hes feeling particularly teasing

Though, in his softer moments – he’ll slip up and murmur a soft ‘love’ under his breath

He would actually appreciate his own petnames – something personal to him

In the forest, he has his own garden with magic flowers

something along the lines of ‘lavender’ or ‘wisteria’ when you’re feeling sweet – and ‘foxtail’ when you’re feeling a little mischievous yourself

[oftenderweapons]

Bourbon Bossa Nova | MYG | Pt.1

This story is part of the Blue Crush Collab

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (nicknamed Sunny)

Wordcount: 7k

Rating: 18+ (This part is pretty innocent, but Part 2 will feature mature content)

Genre: strangers to friends to lovers, composer!Yoongi x lifeguard!YN

Content warning: swearing, alcohol, allusions to sexual thoughts. Allusions to death, child abandonment and family loss.

Synopsis: when you start your summer at Honeycomb Cove, you're only expecting sunshine, waves and annoying teenage bravado as you work as a lifeguard. What you don't expect is Min Yoongi. He wasn't expecting you either. Soon your morning walks are your favourite part of the day, until you realise it's not really the walks, maybe it's always been him you are, after all, waiting for.

Shoutout to the incredible folks who helped me find courage to keep believing in this fic - and finally posting it. To Mars (@joheunsaram), To Bells (@youtifulhobi) to Yannie (@ressjeon), my power squad who believed in this fic (and in my writing skills) more than I did. Here's to me finally breaking my dry spell!!! And to some of my old and new supporters and cheerleaders @lelegzem0, @aanncchhuu, @blushingatyou and @percheee (other people are most definitely in this list but Tumblr is limiting my access to previous notes so I can't find you all) You folks are part of the reason I'm still rolling in the dust here on Tumblr

Part two out now!

Here's my masterlist, just in case you're new

Also: disclaimer! (very important, I should have put this first) I'm not Brazilian, and I have very little familiarity with Brazilian culture, but I really wanted to do a shoutout to this incredible country, its people, its art and its music. If you have any notes you would like to leave regarding Antonio's characters and Yoongi's attachment to Brazilian culture, you are the most welcome, both here in the comments and in my blog. I'd love to learn more 💜

Enjoy the fic!!!

May is a great thing. Flowers everywhere, the smell of sunscreen starting to spread in the air, orange dawns, hair getting frizzy with salty air and too much time in the water. Sand under your toes, loose linen garments, wearing a sports bra and a pair of shorts all the time, throwing an oversized sweater on when the night gets too cold, the smell of citrus and geranium to keep mosquitoes away. 

Early summer is great. Way better than midsummer and August. May and mid-September had always been your favourite times of the year: the beginning felt like sparks starting to burst, and the end felt like the natural conclusion of things, that languid nostalgia sweeping in gently, like the soft wind ready to carry in autumn days and blow the leaves away. 

The smell of rosemary and lavender and juniper accompanied you to the beach as you walked down one of the side alleys. 

“Good morn’ Earl!”

The old man turned to greet you as he kept watering the hibiscus bushes before the sun became too blinding, burning the poor flowers. “Morning Sunny!”

“Remember your heart pill!”

“Sure! Already took it!” Earl shouted back, his voice bubbly and bright. 

You waved at him as you kept walking, ready to meet your next friend. “Hello Rosa!”

“Hi Sunny!” 

The old lady already had her cocker spaniel on a leash, ready for her morning walk. “When’s Mindy coming around this year?”

“Mid-July. And she’s taking her children too!” The woman looked ecstatic about her daughter visiting. 

“That sounds amazing! I really have to rush, bye Rosa! And bye Lemon!”

“Lemon say bye!” Rosa told her dog, making her bark just in time before you started your jog. 

Being a lifeguard was great. It was the life you had always dreamed of. You had always worked out to fit in the lifeguard guidelines requirements, and a good ninety percent of your decisions had been oriented to making sure that you could be a lifeguard from the second week of May to the first week of October — that is the entirety of tourist season. Once autumn arrived, you would resume working at the retirement home: it was only your second year with that working arrangement, and you weren’t sure it would work at first, but your grandmother being the godmother of the director of the elderly institute guaranteed you would always find a spot working there; plus, they were also constantly in need of an extra set of hands, especially if those hands came with a degree in nursing. 

You’ve always known you wanted to work in elderly care just as much as you’ve always known you were made to be a lifeguard. Your parents were worried over the sort of sacrifices and strains that such an occupation would entail: all the caregiving, and the cleaning and the affection you spend on people you’re inevitably going to lose; yet it felt natural to you. Sure, some people can be antagonistic and diffident, in some cases you end up being more of a nanny than a nurse, but most of the time, it’s worth it. After two years in this field, the ups are definitely brighter than the darkest lows, and you’re under the strong impression that it will keep being so. 

Back to the glorious morning in front of you, you took off your flip-flops as you reached the best place in the world: the golden beach of Honeycomb Cove. Smiling, you fixed your cap on top of your head and walked to your tower, depositing your stuff in the cabin before going for your morning run. As you were opening the umbrella, taking in the blue infinity of the ocean before you, you spotted an unfamiliar figure below, a big fisher hat on its head, a long-sleeved white shirt covering its arms, a stick in one hand while the other was pressed to his lower back in a fist. 

“Hi, hello there!” you greeted, a wide smile for the small, old man walking on the shore before your tower. The bizarre figure lifted his head up, eyes squinted, his button nose curiously pointing about as he looked for the voice. 

“Over here! Good morning, sir!” You waved energetically at him, the man frowning — not that you could notice that, because of the distance and the hat. 

“Morning?” he greeted back in confusion before continuing his walk. 

Yoongi was extremely confused when he heard the voice. His night had been too long for him not to suppose he was hearing voices. Maybe his time had finally come and that was the call of some deity summoning him to whatever comes after the struggles of the living. 

What he didn’t expect was for the voice to call again, this time the source clearly identifiable. He squinted at the lifeguard tower and offered a small wave in greeting. 

She — that had to be a she — seemed to be set alight in sunlight, the early morning light making her glow in something brighter than gold. 

He had a precise image in his mind for a second, something his grandmother had told him when he was a child. Something like mythology, like Achilles’ halo of hair, or Helios who carries the chariot of the Sun. 

He shook his head and continued walking, turning around only once he was several feet ahead and her long legs had carried her in the opposite direction, her wide strides amazing Yoongi, who could just stare at her golden, looped locks bouncing as she played with the back-and-forth of the tide, running along it. 

For a second, Yoongi thought of The Girl from Ipanema, shortly before remembering all the controversies behind it, and how much his grandmother hated the song because of “the male gaze”. With chastised pupils, he let his gaze fall back to the fragments of seashells at his feet, the distant fall of her feet meeting the sound of the tide calling to his ears in a hypnotizing beat. 

All the way back to his home, Yoongi let it ring and echo through all the empty halls of his brain, until he could finally — although artificially — recreate it in the calm of his home, and let it resonate through its corridors.

Yoongi would define himself quite a reserved man. He had his home — an old Victorian-style house in the more quiet and deserted part of the bay, too inhospitable for tourists, still linked to the naval history of the cove. He had renovated the house after his grandmother had left it to him, replacing the old wooden axes with new, not rotten ones, repainting the walls and repolishing the floors, installing soundproof panels on the room he had decided to turn into his studio. 

It had only been a short while since he’d moved into the beach house; his college in San Francisco and his scholarship and research in New Orleans had sent him spiralling between opposites, diving deep into sounds he wasn’t entirely familiar with, and in a bout of homesickness and confusion, he’d decided to return to his true roots, to his true north. 

Here he could daydream of green hills and golden beaches of a faraway place that he could only imagine through the saudade of an old immigrant. He could feel the beat of that city that was nothing but an overgrown village, the roaring of cars on dirt roads, and that open-armed man that seemed to be every man, every woman, every human being in that open-armed city — that all-forgiving man that seemed to welcome strangers, with their weary feet and guilty souls. 

He knew the place that inhabited his wildest dreams, his most romanticised visions, no longer existed. It had been erased by decades of progress and politics and human greed. That place where all his bedtime stories took place was no longer, and maybe it had never been. Yet Yoongi longed to reach that all-forgiving stone man and feel, just feel how the rolling waves carried all the nostalgia and the sins and the tears of those lost souls that reached a new land hoping for fortune and maybe a brand new start. 

He too was something in between worlds. Son of a woman adopted by a foreigner and a man lost in time, somewhere. And there was nothing more foreign to him than the woman who had raised him, the same woman who had given him the house he was living in. He had always been drifting in something somewhat estranged. His mother had been a nobody, abandoned before an orphanage, the only known facts were her name — Moonbae — and that she had been abandoned as the last of sixth children, her family too poor to afford her. As a twist of fate, she had then been adopted by an American anthropologist — Yoongi’s grandma — who had always respected her will to stay away from her past. Still, loss persecuted her, her loving, if a little taciturn adoptive father passing due to a mysterious disease somewhere in Guatemala. 

It took several years for Beatrice and Moonbae to settle in the old colonial house in Honeycomb Cove; Trice had returned to her great-grandmother to assist the incredibly old lady to her last breath. Needless to say, she then inherited the house. The women lived sheltered, quiet lives until Moonbae got pregnant. A summer fling, that was all it was, the man a fleeting tourist who took a risk too many, fathering a son he would never take care of. 

His absence was filled by someone who looked the exact opposite of the little moonbeam of a child, laying pale and tranquil in his cradle, lulled by strange, exotic songs that his grandmother had perfected for him. 

Beatrice fell in love with a man who became everything to Yoongi — someone Moonbae never approved of, so much so that she decided to leave town when her son was maybe four years old. She never returned. Beatrice never looked for her either. 

Antonio was eighteen years younger than Beatrice, his skin a rich cinnamon shade, his accent so thick that it took a while for Yoongi to decipher the heavy Brazilian cadence in the man’s English. 

Yoongi preferred when Antonio spoke Brazilian Portuguese, anyways. By the time the boy was fourteen, he and his acquired grandfather easily conversed on the wooden patio, drinking lemonade, a guitar in the man’s arms. Antonio taught Yoongi everything, the boy so taciturn, so eager to listen, that the nationless musician let all his woes and nostalgia pour out. And maybe the man was no citizen, something in between an exile and a fugitive, but in that old house, he found a home, with Trice constantly refusing to marry him and loving him like a madwoman at the same time. 

Yoongi doubted love like that could exist anymore. A love so strong that when she had passed, Antonio had magically drifted away together with her a few months after, disregarding his significantly younger age. What the not-so-old man would never say was that he passed in tranquillity, knowing that he had taught his spiritual child all he had to offer. 

And just so, Yoongi won a scholarship, all because of the easy, wordless afternoons when Antonio taught him to play three instruments and speak that language that reminded Yoongi of his old cat, Sweeper, and the way he lazily rolled around in the sun. 

Now he was just a young man graduated from a prestigious music academy in San Francisco, two of his compositions had been featured as soundtrack in a couple movies, and he was already producing for a small recording studio specialised in chamber music. He didn’t make much money out of it, to be true, but sometimes he managed to have an extra income with royalties, and he was currently composing his first mixtape — for which a studio had already contacted him, and the fact that Antonio had introduced him to some of the most influential artists in the San Francisco scene had quite definitely jump-started his career. 

He was living a cool life, the kind of life he had always seen himself living. He worked at night and finished his day at seven am; then he would head out for a walk, when the sun was still gentle in summer and when it would be barely up in winter. And next, he would sleep. Wake up around five pm. Get some food ready and start all over again. He’d returned to Honeycomb Cove only six months prior, so he hadn’t yet entirely reconnected with his local social circle, plus most of his friends were still in college, which meant that it wasn’t that easy to arrange a get together. But to be true he was quite excited about Seokjin being back in town and spring break approaching. By summer come, they would all be a great team again and he would feel like he had all the time in the world. 

His musings were interrupted by the doorbell. That had to be his pizza. It was almost eleven and Gerry, the old Italian man who owned the pizza place at the end of the street, always knew that Tuesday night meant late night pizza for Yoongi. 

He grabbed the money — already perfectly calculated so he could pay for the pizza and leave a tip for the delivery boy, Pippo. But tonight it wasn't the delivery boy knocking at his door. As he opened it, he found a wondrous mass of blond curls right in front of his eyes. “Oh, hi!” 

“Hey!” The voice sounded chirpy, familiar. 

A sudden breeze pushed the stranger’s perfume past the doorway, the scent crashing over Yoongi like the surf. God she smells good, Yoongi thought, lips agape as he stared at the woman in his doorway. It was a mix of coconut and papaya, the scent overpowering the tasty smell of his pizza. 

You put on your friendliest, warmest, brightest smile, then said: “We met on the beach right? You must be Min Yoongi. I'm _____. Gerry said you always dine alone and told me you could use some company.”

“I'm not a charity case,” Yoongi replied before realising how rude he'd just been. 

“Well, that's a funny introduction, Not A Charity Case. Is that the name you chose to go by? Like Jenny From The Block?” You shook your head and looked away. “What told you it's not me who could use a friend. May I?” You asked, pointing at the door, asking if you could enter. “You can ask Gerry. He sent me. I've just arrived for the season and I could really use a friend. He told me you're a good person and you're always alone too.” 

Yoongi was almost outraged by your insolence. Were you always so blunt? He was also confused: what kind of setup was this?!

You passed him the pizza and he lifted the lid, checking that it was actually his and that you weren't an imposter, or a serial killer. 

'Take the golden retriever girl. She needs a smart friend. -G,’ read a note left inside the box.

“Yeah, I’m Yoongi,” he said, almost defeated. “Come on in, then.” If he found his house entirely stripped of anything worth money, he would sue Gerry. 

“Oh. Thank you.” You flashed him a grin. 

Yoongi's knees almost caved. What a smile. It was like… like staring at the sun. But in a good way. It was like a blue sky. Soothing. Serene. Cloudless, pacific. 

You placed your own pizza box next to his on the counter while at the same time you looked around. “Wow, your house is so pretty. Your family lives here?” 

Yoongi opened his pizza and grabbed a beer from the fridge. “I don't have a family anymore.” 

You froze. “I'm sorry.” You were already failing at this. That's why your friends all had fake teeth and a medical record thicker than your cookbook. Not to mention the average age.

“It's okay. I got used to that. You should be the lifeguard, right? Wait, would you like some beer?” 

You shook your head. “I'd like some water please.” 

Of course you would, he realised. You had to be one of those health freaks. He could already anticipate how easily he could make you run from him with his suicidal diet. 

He placed a glass beside your pizza box before sitting down and getting ready to dig in. “I still owe you the money. From the pizza.” 

“I already paid for both. I thought that since I wasn't bringing you a housewarming present, I could at least buy you some food.” You took a slice and started eating up, humming and nodding at the taste. “I get why he works so much. This pizza is heaven.”

“Yeah. All the kids here grew up on sunshine and Gerry's pizza,” Yoongi mentioned casually. He liked that you talked with your mouth full. He did, too. Beatrice had never liked that. 

“Are you from the neighbourhood?” He asked before wolfing down another slice. 

“Kinda. I live a bit farther into the mainland. I used to come here on holiday when I was little. With my parents.” You took a sip of water as Yoongi learned one more thing about you. 

“I thought so. I don’t really remember you from growing up, and me and my friends know all of the locals.” Yoongi studied your face, trying to dissect any detail that could make you familiar. 

“I see. You’ve been raised here, I assume?”

“Yup.” The silence is heavy, but at least you can distract yourself with food. “So, lifeguard? That your dream job?” He said it sarcastically, almost evilly before he realised you were nodding eagerly and happily. 

“My great-grandpa was a sailor. I've always wanted to live by the sea.” You munched on the crunchy crust, Yoongi blinking rapidly. 

Making fun of you felt like shooting a dead body. There was no use — and no mercy — in doing that. “Shouldn't you be in college or something?” 

“I took nursing school. And I'm old enough to be out of college.” Yoongi’s tone had really made that sound like an insult, but you tried your best not to assume the worst.

Yoongi tried to get on his better behaviour. You were a new person, you wouldn’t understand his sardonic tone. “I'm sorry,” he said, contrite. 

“For what? Me being a certified nurse and a person in charge of other people's lives? I know I look stupid, no need to rub it in.” You arched an eyebrow, rather fed up with the weirdness of this exchange, of the man sitting before you. You stood up and closed the box of your pizza, still half uneaten. “Sorry I disturbed your night. Enjoy your meal—” 

“Wait, no! Don't go, please.” He didn't know what suddenly convinced him to make you stay. “I was a dick, I'm sorry, let's start over.” 

You hesitated for at least three seconds and then, despite your better judgement, you sat back. “I'm ____. But my friends call me Sunny. It's my middle name. Really. My parents thought it funny.”

It suited you so damn bad. Yoongi wanted to bask in your aura in a hammock with a slight breeze and a samba playing in the distance. “It's a really nice name. It really suits your appearance. And I mean that as a compliment.” 

You breathed out the tiniest laugh. 

“I'm Yoongi and that's the only name I have. We don't use middle names.” He relaxed once you opened your box once more. 

“Where is it from?” You asked, recognising the name being foreign. 

“My mom's name is Korean. She picked a Korean one for me too. Just to remind me we're not entirely American.” He was vaguely bitter about that. Maybe just indifferent, you told yourself. That must have been tough. 

“That's interesting,” you mused, drinking some water. “How old are you?” 

Your question was naive. Childlike. “I'm twenty-three. And you're…?”

“Twenty-four. Twenty-five in a couple weeks.” You smiled and he was once more lost in how radiant you looked. 

Once you were finished eating, you rinsed your hands at the sink, helping him get rid of the boxes before shyly following him as he moved to the living room. 

“Wow.”

“It's a bit overwhelming, I know.” He looked around, analysing the room through a stranger's eyes. “My grandma was an anthropologist, my grandpa too, though I never met him. She travelled a lot and always brought back fancy things.” 

“What's this?” you asked, watching a strange fork of sorts. 

Yoongi sat down and grabbed a bizarre little stick, no bigger than a pen, with a large ball at the end. He hit the fork, a soothing, metallic sound coming out of it and the box at its base, amplifying the cold dong. “It's a diapason. It gives a specific note. This one sounds like la. Or A, whatever notation you prefer. We use it to tune instruments like guitars.” 

You nodded. “That's interesting. I like it.” 

Yoongi chuckled. “It's very soothing, right? It resonates at a frequency that has positive effects on humans. My grandma used to play it when I needed to calm down as a baby.” 

Thinking that the coarse man before you had been a baby felt baffling. “And it still relaxes you?” 

“It does. But I think it's more of a reflex. I think they trained me. Like Pavlov's dog… Wait, was that Pavlov?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a giggle. 

“Sometimes I think I was a strange experiment. That's what happens when you have two scientists in your home.” He shrugged with a funny grin on his face, his cheeks going puffy as he did so. 

“It's okay. You lived through that. You're not doing bad for a lab rat. You could be having bald spots by now,” you joked, almost expecting him to get confused or disgusted. Instead he laughed. 

His laugh was so soft. He actually looked soft, with his gums out, his cheeks puffed up, his nose curled up cutely. Yoongi was cute. Very much so. 

“So, what do you do for a living?” 

He blushed to his ears. “I'm a musician. And a producer.” 

“Wow. That sounds cool! How does that work?” Your voice was filled with wonder, making Yoongi understand that after all it wasn't like you were dumb. You were just unashamed of not knowing things. 

“I make songs. Spend too much time on the computer fixing songs for other people. And then spend a little bit of time with my instruments, going through riffs and melodies, finding little things that inspire me for longer songs or pieces.” Yoongi stopped himself from dumping all of his artistic worries over you. 

“You studied at UCLA?” you asked, knowing that was the best place for a person like him. 

“Actually, no. My grandfather got me into an academy in the city. I mean, my granny's boyfriend,” he corrected himself. Considering Antonio his grandpa had always come natural to him, but he'd never substituted himself for Trice's husband. 

“It's so cute that she found a boyfriend. You mentioned your grandpa passed so I guess she met the guy after?” You posed the question gently, wording it accurately. 

Yoongi nodded. “Yup. I was a toddler when they met.” 

You hummed. “With all respect to your grandpa, I like when old people find a partner — or at least, someone meaningful to them. It brings a lot of joy and newness in their lives. Partnered old folks have a way less lonely life. And it seems they live longer too! I read a paper for a course back in college.” 

Yoongi was pleased to receive confirmation of you being an old people's person. Hopefully you also hated kids so he could actually deem himself safe. “So you actually liked nursing school.”

You bobbed your head enthusiastically. “I’ve always liked the idea of working in a retirement home. Old people have so many stories and so little audience. I like staying with them, helping them write memories they can pass to their overly busy children and grandchildren. And they learn about technology, they play cards. They crochet! Isn't that amazing?!” you exclaimed with a radiant look on your face. 

Yoongi realised you were a genuinely generous person. You reaching out to him wasn't just Gerry forcing you to Yoongi's place, but hopefully you needing a friend. It really seemed you could use a pal your age. “And how does that pair up with your lifeguard position?” 

You shrugged. “I've always loved the beach. And splitting it with caregiving helps me from taking nursing too seriously. It helps me worry less about people… passing, you know.”

Yoongi nodded. He hadn’t thought about what it means taking care of someone day after day after day, and then suddenly they’re gone. He also thought about the different weights of a job: probably that was the same reason why it had taken him so long to work on his music while delivering piece after piece for commission. He had lost the passionate side of it.

“So, your granny's boyfriend got you into a music academy and then?” 

Yoongi smiled, then he started telling you everything about that. 

The two of you talked way deep in the night, the initial strangeness turning into easy chit-chat about school, life, family and work… It was almost one in the morning when you realised it was time for you to go. Once Yoongi noticed how long he’d been talking to you, he blushed and understood it was time to say goodnight, no matter how warm and welcome he felt at your side. 

He accompanied you to the door, then stood on the porch, waving at you before wondering whether he should accompany you home. “You’re staying here in town, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry. I’m just five minutes away from here. I have my bike.”

“You don’t want me to drive you?” He rubbed the back of his neck as he waited for your reply. 

You shook your head. “I’m okay, don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

Yoongi realised the reason why he felt sad about you refusing was exclusively because he wouldn’t be able to spend more time with you. He was struggling to let go, after only a couple hours of chatting, and at least half of that being awkward acquainting with someone new. 

And to further increase his struggles, he could almost hear Antonio scolding him for letting go of someone that made him feel good. “Will I see you tomorrow morning at the beach?”

You were ready to leave when you heard Yoongi’s question. It sounded vaguely insecure, as if he was testing the waters. “Come meet me at seven. I’ll be there.”

Yoongi nodded to himself. He should have asked for your number. Stupid social anxiety. 

“Goodnight Yoongi!” You waved from the gate before leaving.

He stood there, arms crossed, shrinking inside his striped polo shirt, its long sleeve doing very little in keeping him warm. So unexpectedly his night had changed. He thought about the percussion riff he’d jotted down that morning around nine, laying in bed, sleepless. For all he knew, you could have possibly changed his life. 

He would remember tonight forever. 

The following day, Yoongi left his house at six forty-five. You had given him a when, but not an exact where. He was nervous. And he was somehow hoping that seeing you in broad daylight would somehow lessen your magic. 

How wrong he was. 

He waited for you at the feet of your tower, leaning against it nonchalantly while he almost ran to get there in time. Watching you arrive in sunglasses and a white sundress was definitely something. You looked like the kind of girl that could have starred in Dirty Dancing. 

“Good morning, sir!” you greeted, waving. 

“Stop treating me like an old man,” he complained, however you heard some irony in his voice. 

“Not my fault you behave like one!” you bit back, amused and maybe a little cheeky. “Hello Yoongi,” you tried again, more calmly now that you were standing before him. “I’ll go get changed quickly so we can go on a walk.”

He nodded and looked at the horizon before him, his ears blushing at the thought that you were half naked just a few steps away. You looked so lean and fit and tall and he was… He was struggling not to let his mind run wild. After all you were just a prettily shaped woman. No more, and no less. 

All the months that had passed since he’d last slept with someone weren’t a valid reason for him to think of you half naked.

“Let’s go!” you exclaimed, basically throwing yourself down the stairs and taking a few small jumps on your spot — like a golden retriever too excited about going out. You started with a jog, only to watch Yoongi’s panicked look. 

You exploded with laughter. “See, I told you! You’re an old man!”

Yoongi hid his smile with a pout before catching up with a few quick steps. “Do you need to run or can you just walk?”

“I’ll walk in the water. Helps me burn more energy and work on my stamina,” you replied, entering the water to the point it reached your knees. “You can walk on the shore. Did you sleep well?”

He looked away.

“Oh, right. You work at night. So— Did you… produce?” You looked down, careful about not splashing him. 

“Oh, yeah. The conversation with you was very inspirational,” he conceded. He hadn’t worked half as much in the last four weeks. Listening to the little riffs and chords hidden in your voice was like experimenting with a new genre. It was as if he was building a new theme for you. Something that signified your presence, but at the same time conveyed the fits and starts of meeting someone new, and getting to know them, and discovering something new about oneself from all the analogies and differences they could see with the other person. As much as he was composing about you, about the little bits he’d learned about you, he was in some way also composing about himself. 

The process had been thrilling and once he’d finished the first, roughest draft, at dawn, the music felt so vibrant that it could properly and proudly accompany the rise of the sun. It was of course still only a draft, but the way you’d talked deep into the night, the way you’d circled around things until they’d come out right, had inspired him to give it all a try. It didn’t need to be perfect, it only needed to work. And work, in the end, it did. He only wished he had sampled a piece of your conversation — that joke about him being a lab rat… the laughs that followed. It would have been great for a skit. 

“You know, I really wish I could listen to your music. I'm kind of curious about what such a quiet person considers noise worth listening to.” You looked at him. “After all, music is just very tidy noise right?” 

He smiled. “Yeah, I would agree to that.” He looked at the seashells on the shore. “I'll make you a playlist. I'll include random stuff I like listening to.”

“Oh, I'd love that!” you replied enthusiastically. “We can make a playlist for our walks!” 

Yoongi’s ears perked up at that: “walks”, plural, which meant you would do this again, soon. He was pleased at the way you had so casually hinted at creating a routine. He had someone to share music recommendations with. Someone who would maybe recommend pieces to him in return. He realised he was excited about this. So many new sensations, and none of that as unpleasant as he’d thought. He could get used tho this.

Once the two of you said goodbye, he realised he couldn't go to sleep. He was too excited about making a playlist and sharing it with you. Walking with you in the gentle morning sun. Hearing you laugh. 

Yoongi understood: he was making a new friend. 

Having walks with Yoongi became extraordinary. You started associating him with the tender colours of the shyest sunshine, and the sweet cotton scent of his shirts in the gentle morning breeze. The way his soft locks danced in the ocean air, tangling together, the way his cheeks turned into little ice cream scoops when he smiled at you as you greeted him good morning. 

Likewise, Yoongi started adoring sunshine. You ended each of his nights, bringing him into the reign of soft morning light, introducing him to a brightness he'd always much preferred doing without. Truth was that his ears had become acquainted with your vintage summer bops, with the way your steps would automatically sync up with the beat of Pumped Up Kicks when the song started playing, and your little blonde baby curls would end up bouncing by the time the first chorus came around. Sometimes you looked like one of those strange horses trained to match the rhythm of music. Dressage, wasn't that? 

And then, you loved his calm acoustic ballads, the relaxing guitar riffs that accompanied the rise of the sun. 

Once your shared routine of morning walks was sufficiently cemented, you trained him, like a stray cat, to stick around some more after your walk, convincing him to join you for a morning snack. You always brought him iced coffee and a peach jam sandwich while you drank your aloe and matcha drink before indulging in an avocado toast. He liked your mornings as much as you did. You also probably liked each other too. 

Your perfect sunny streak was tainted only by a mildly cloudy morning, during which Yoongi showed up at your tower anyway, an extra sweater on top of his long sleeved shirt. He knew you'd probably be cold. 

The striped black number seemed to be big enough for you to fill it up comfortably. After all, you were half a head taller than him, and your arms were significantly longer. At least by three or four inches, he had to admit. 

When you showed up, you looked drowsy, your hair was half low and you were carrying a different bag from usual. “Morning old man,” you called, placing your bag at the feet of the stairs. 

“Morning, Sunny. Wait. Are those actually knitting devices in your bag? Wonder Woman ____ knits?” 

“Shut up. Linda taught me. It's just something to share with the ladies at The Orchard,” you justified yourself. “We'll see if you still joke about that once you get your soft, handmade cosy sweater this winter.” 

Yoongi blinked, suddenly realising his expression had been shifting to a pout. “Are you still going to be around this winter?” 

You invited him upstairs, avoiding the question for now. Could you wait from September to May to see him again? Could you go so long without him? 

As you picked up a half knitted torso from your bag, pressing it to his face, you realised you couldn't. You also realised you had made a naive mistake. You had thought you were domesticating a stray but in the meanwhile you had opened him your home, your heart. You had invested your time in him and that made him much more than a stray. You were giving him a forever home.

“Is this for me?” he asked innocently, gently, rubbing his face against the soft, airy fabric. 

“It’s alpaca wool,” you commented drily. You already knew you would give up on your long-term dream sweater only to see him all fluffed up in the pastel mesh of colours. You smiled as he pressed it closer to his face.

“So soft,” he murmured, nuzzling up against the small piece of knitwork. The moment he opened his eyes, you realised his nose was just a tiny bit red from the chilly breeze coming from the sea, carrying a storm in its wake. His cheeks were rosy and puffy, his eyes big and dark. And his eyelashes, so dainty and insanely… flirtatious? He looked like he was seducing you for the slowest of seconds. 

You looked away, cheeks aflame. “Let’s go. Before the rain comes.”

Yoongi startled at your tone, cloudy for the first time since that night when you’d known each other too little, and he’d been unforgivably too sarcastic. He followed you like a confused pet down the stairs, then grabbed his earpods and passed one to you. 

You were especially thankful for the music now that your thoughts were too scattered for you to form sentences and make some conversation. 

“It will rain in a bunch of minutes,” Yoongi commented. “There’s no use walking today.”

You ignored him. Would he leave if you agreed with his statement? Would he think walking was pointless, and therefore there was no reason for the two of you to spend any time together today? Too lost in trying to find a meaning to how sad you felt at the thought of being apart, you didn’t realise a raindrop had hit your nose. 

The storm was coming. 

An angry guitar riff came on, The Neighbourhood blaring from the earphone as Yoongi grabbed your hand. One drop followed the other, his hand around your wrist as he tugged at your arm, running fast, faster, to a speed that felt ridiculous considering how lazy he always was. 

‘I’m going back to 505, if it’s a seven-hour flight or a forty-five-minute drive. In my imagination you’re waiting lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs, and a smile…’

You ran, faster, short of breath, the music carrying you across the sand. You didn’t even realise you were trusting Yoongi completely, even as he led you past your tower, even as he kept running while the downpour broke loose, even as The Beatles came on, singing about jars by the door and lonely people, even as the morning got so dark, the sky like a purple shiner after a rowdy pub fight. 

You kept running, Yoongi panting as the two of you finally recognised the fence of his house, the tower barely visible behind the thick cover of rain and mist. “Come on!” he gasped out. 

You kept running until you were under his porch. “What the hell, Yoongi! Why didn’t we stop at the tower!?” you scolded him, barely alive, barely breathing — how had he worn you out like this? He was way less trained than you, and yet he’d managed to run by your side, keeping your pace, ending up winded, sure, but in way better a state than you’d thought he would be.

He shook his head, bent in two, his hands gripping his knees. “I was distracted! I wasn’t thinking!”

You shook your head, too busy pulling oxygen into your lungs to fight him back. After a few breathless minutes, you sat down on the first step of the staircase. “You knew it would rain. Why did you come?”

Yoongi felt called out all of a sudden. “I— I thought you were expecting me to come. I don’t have your number so I couldn’t text you. Or call you.” He sat down beside you, his hands pressed in between his knees. “I didn’t want you to worry or think I had forgotten.” He took in a large breath. Somehow the little effort of a confession required way more air than the makeshift marathon under the storm — it was definitely shorter than a marathon. Probably not even a tenth of it. He just knew that was the longest and the fastest he’d ever run, but you were running, and you were so majestic and he just wanted to be part of it. 

Yoongi paused, gathered his courage, then murmured, “I didn’t want you to feel lonely.”

You recognised the guitar strums immediately, the song changing once more. You looked at Yoongi, Hozier’s soft voice crooning at your ear. “What about you? Were you feeling lonely?”

He looked away, too shy, too old, too used-to-it to admit it. He had no right to feel lonely when you weren’t around. He had been alone for so long, but loneliness? It had been a stranger to him until he’d learnt your name. “I don’t—”

You pushed his hair off his face, your index finger casually following the handsome curve of his jawline. “Yoongi?”

He finally turned to look at you, once more innocent in the way he seemed to seduce you. He looked so pure and for the first time you felt so desperate to taint him. You needed him to look normal and mundane and you prayed for your crush to fade, for his sinless charms to be washed away so he would show his true colours, because no man should be allowed to be perfect the way he felt perfect to you. 

“Yoongi,” you whispered, your heart tied up with pining.

‘Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do.’

You hadn’t realised your eyes were closed until it was too late, the lyrics making you open them only to notice Yoongi leaning towards you, his lips protruding in the most imploring pout you had ever seen. 

You were ruined. 

You tugged the earpod off, almost throwing it to the ground before hollering a ‘see you ‘round’ and running off in the cold rain. 

Yoongi, confused, afraid, sat on his porch as he watched you disappear. 

Part 2 will be out now!!

[lalathemediterraneanmermaid]

What do ikeprince suitors smell like? Pt.2

Hi my beautiful Belles, it's such an honor to present you with part 2 of "What do ikeprince suitors smell like? I absolutely loved and had so much fun doing the first part. So here is the promised second part, where we will discover the perfumes that the princes from Rhodolite are most likely to wear. This is not entirely accurate - it's only based on their routes information and the vibe each boy gives me.

Jin Grandet

The big bro, seductive womanizer and alcohol lover definitely smells like seduction and playfulness with a mature vibe. I'm sensing some kind of citrusy freshness along with some spices on top of a woody warm bed.

Notes: bergamot, galbanum, tangerine, liqueur, pink pepper, ho leaf, amber, rosewood and oakmoss.

Perfumes he might like:

Sauvage - Dior (Basic, but it still works)

Cuirs - Carner Barcelona

Grand Soir - Maison Francis Kurkdjian (sometimes he takes this one from Nokto's perfume collection).

CH Men Prive - Carolina Herrera - His favourite, probably layered with "Grand Soir" for special occasions.

Stronger With You Intensely - Giorgio Armani

Chevalier Michel

King Highness, my man, your man, nation's man, world's man. It is said in his route that he showers a lot. It is also said by Belle that Chev smells like vetiver and winter. So I'm getting fresh clean boy vibes from our pookie man. He may also be a huge Byredo boy.

Notes: vetiver, green apple, wintergreen, sweet orange, white rose, white lily, jasmine, gardenia, ylang-ylang, sage and soap.

Perfumes he might like:

Sycomore - Chanel

Grey Vetiver - Tom Ford

Philosykos - Diptyque

Aqua Universalis - Maison Francis Kurkdjian - His favourite

Blanche - Byredo - His second favourite

Bal d'Afrique - Byredo

Mister Marvelous - Byredo

Clavis Lelouch

The Hellcat Troublemaker charming gentleman probably smells like sweat, chaos, trouble, chemicals and gunpowder, but let's pretend he doesn't. This mf brings joy and happiness to everyone's lives. He's the life of the party. We've all been charmed by him at any point in the series, don't you dare denying it. Yes, he is traumatized, but so are we. He is dazzling and fresh like a summer breeze, sweet and funny like an ice cream.

Notes: mandarin, lemon, sea salt, jasmine, rose, muguet, heliotrope, musk, vanilla, coconut and aromatic herbs.

Perfumes he might like:

Bleu de Chanel - Chanel (courtesy of Keith)

Aqua Allegoria Bergamote Calabria - Guerlain - His favourite (layered with "Pulp" to add playfulness).

Blu Mediterraneo: Fico di Amalfi - Acqua di Parma

Pulp - Byredo - His other favourite, he loves this one because he stole it from Chevalier's Byredo collection.

Allure Homme Sport - Chanel (this one is the one he uses while pranking people, just because the word "sport" in the perfume's name.)

Leon Dompteur

The gold digger girl dinner love of my life. He is a true gentleman, he treats you right, it's the princess treatment for me girl. He is classy, sweet, thoughtful, a liar friendly, masculine (in the best way possible) and sensitive. Roses seem to bloom whenever he smiles. A provider. Husband material. He gifts you PLUSHIES, how cute is that? Love him.

Notes: lavender, linalool, bergamot, roses, cinnamon, anise, clove, thyme, jasmine and cedarwood.

Perfumes he might like:

Fahrenheit - Dior - His favourite for high events

Y Eau de Parfum - Yves Saint Laurent

Rive Gauche pour Homme - Yves Saint Laurent - His favourite

Black Saffron - Byredo

L'Homme Ideal Sport - Guerlain

Blenheim Bouquet - Penhaligon's

Green Irish Tweed - Creed - His second favourite (layered "Black Saffron").

Yves Kloss

The Barbie Haughty Kitty. He definitely smells like flowers, especially roses, and something really sweet, gourmand with a soft clean base.

Notes: apple, peony, rose, apricot, jasmine, iris, musk, vanilla, praline, sugar, strawberry and peach.

Perfumes he might like:

Peony & Blush Suede - Jo Malone London

White Suede - Tom Ford

Eau Rose - Diptyque

Chanel Chance Eau Tendre

Love in White - Creed

The Favourite - Penhaligon's - His favourite

Bianco Latte - Giardini Di Toscana (layered with "Eau Rose") - His favourite combination (he uses this one to go see you Belle).

Licht Klein

The lone wolf, our cutie pie, Yves's baby. I feel like he smells like fresh rain on top of a sweet and clean base with some spices added.

Notes: orange, wintergreen, rain, mint, green apple, white lily, sweet pea, orchid, vanilla and sandalwood.

Perfumes he might like:

Silver Mountain Water - Creed

Acqua di Giò Profumo - Giorgio Armani

Royal Water - Creed - His favourite

Celeste - Giardini Di Toscana

Millésime Impérial - Creed (Silvio's gift).

Nokto Klein

Our frivolous womanizer, the slay and cunning fox, my baby. Chev's personal clown. He LOVES perfumes - Silvio and he are in some kind of competition about who has more perfumes. He is the layering king, not just because his perfume gets mixed with other girls' scents, but because he knows what he is doing. In literally everyone's routes, it's said that our silly boy who just wants to be loved and understood smells like a red flag "late night trysts", but what exactly that smells like?

Notes: Freesia, white rose, ylang-ylang, orange blossom, cinnamon, musk, sandalwood, heliotrope, queen of the night, vanilla and jasmine.

Perfumes he might like:

L'Homme Ideal - Guerlain

Noir - Tom Ford

Black Orchid - Tom Ford

Do Son - Diptyque

Flowerhead - Byredo

Luna - Penhaligon's

Grand Soir - Maison Francis Kurkdjian

Roses Musk - Montale

Intense Café - Montale

Reflection Man - Amouage (matching with Azel)

Royal Mayfair - Creed

Borabora - Giardini Di Toscana - His favourite

Blu Mare - Giardini Di Toscana (Silvio's gift)

Luke Randolph

Our own big (enormous) Winnie the Pooh. The Honey Lover. The Nap Lover. He is sweet, lovable and caring, the perfect brother you will never have. He will do anything to help you and to make you happy. He doesn't really care that much about his appearance, so the majority of his perfumes are gifted.

Notes: Honey, vanilla, herbs, honeysuckle, violet leaf, white musk and amber.

Perfumes he might like:

Mojave Ghost - Byredo (Clavis's gift, stolen fom Chev's perfume collection)

Oajan - Parfums de Marly (Jin's gift)

Chergui - Serge Lutens (Sariel's gift)

Honey Aoud - Montale - His favourite

And this is the end. Hope you enjoyed this silly little simulation, because I did. I had so much fun, especially with ma' boy Clavis.

This may not be the end of this series, next I'm planning to do the same dynamics (scents and perfumes) with our evil boys from Ikemen Villains. But if you have any suggestions let me know!!!

Kisses my beautiful little bunnies. xoxo.

[vidavalor]

A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square

From Wikipedia:

The song was written in the then-small French fishing village of Le Lavandou—now a favourite resort for British holidaymakers and second-home owners—shortly before the outbreak of the Second World War.

Le Lavandou derives its name either from the flower lavender (lavanda in Provençal) that is prevalent in the area, or more prosaically from the local form of the Occitan name for lavoir, lavandor (for lavador, a public place for washing clothes).

Stopppp lol.

[beansidhebumbling]

Babylon Rises

What Comes Before-An Introduction

Sleep had never been Nesta's friend.

Lavender oil, chamomile tea, yoga, melatonin- pretty promises that she'd land within the Sandman's grasp. Like the desperate do she tried them all and watched them fail. Her new nightime routine a pilates princess' wet dream, mood lighting and steaming mugs of flower water and the gentle stretching of aching muscles, was aesthetically pleasing and utterly useless.

***

In her youth it had seemed like a superpower.

She did not bow to the night.

Her resistance to rest had been useful when cramming for finals, turning pages in the wee hours in the Aberaes wing, Redbull night shakes entirely unnecessary. It had carried her through college and the early trials of corporate law.

In those hazy days of young adulthood, dancing to club music into the wee hours, glitter dusting her skin and coke her nose, it felt like being invincible. Frenzied messy fucking one hour, dabbing Velvet Teddy on her lips on the corporate commute the next.

Stilettos sharp, mind sharper- Nesta fucking Archeron.

***

But as 35 came and went, marked by middling sushi and excellent company, the creeping fear began.

"You know Nes, averaging 2 hours sleep isn't healthy for you."

Gwyn was in doctor mode, from the worried tilt of her fine brows to her crossed arms as she leaned across the glass table, her matcha pushed to the side.

"Yeah I know. I know. I'm on it, I swear G, just don't tell Em."

"Don't tell Em what?"

The familiar voice floated from somewhere behind her.

Fuck.

***

Nesta eyed her double shot macchiato and wondered for a brief hopeful moment if she could drown herself in it, before turning guiltily to meet her friend's hard stare.

"The tea you gave me didn't work."

"Well shit, Archeron. That should have cleared any grade 5 spirits. What the fuck is clinging to you?"

Emerie shook her head, waves of ebony curls writhing in shared disbelief.

Claiming a seat beside Gwyn, her friend pursed her blue-stained lips in a familiarly threatening way and Nesta found the celebration rapidly descending into an inquisition.

***

The grilling was nothing new.

The same roladex of suspects was resurrected each time- stress, diets, spirits. Each had their favourite.

Gwyn, doctor and yogi claimed it was stress. Her friend, a research fiend, sent links to Pubmed every second day on the hormonal and immunological consequences of stress. In a way that, ironically, did little but exacerbate the pressure she felt.

Nesta hoped for diet, lived in faith that eliminating some carb or nightshade or sugar would bring her the peace of a full REM cycle. And if she dropped from a size 14 to an 8 in the process, then maybe Elain would stop sending her emails about spin classes in that passively bitchy way of hers.

Emerie's theory was the strangest by a mile.

"I'm telling you Nes, with all due respects to any of Berdara's papers this problem is one on the spiritual plane."

The demon-hunter raised an ornately manicured hand as Gwyn opened her mouth.

"Before you start, I don't doubt for a second Archeron could do with taking that stick out of her ass, Berdara."

Gwyn settled back in her seat as Nesta huffed indignantly.

"Whatever this is, it has serious mojo. I'm getting worried, the Illyrian dream traps I've placed around your room are filling far too quickly."

"We live in a haunted house Em, that's not exactly surprising."

Nesta retorted, her eyes tightening as the familiar pulsing in her temples that preceded her routine migraines began.

Today was not going as planned.

"I know the girl who became a mere believer a decade ago isn't lecturing me. I am a hunter Archeron and this isn't my first rodeo."

Emerie's eyebrows raised in challenge.

"I'm not. Definitely not. But Em, like you said I'm just a believer, and only that because I know you. I've no affiliation to the Other. It seems more likely it could be dairy, I was..'

Gwyn's sigh caused the pretty waitress to glance up from her physics textbook at the counter, before returning to her work following Nesta's bashful wave.

"I cannot listen to the potential dastardly powers of brie again, Nesta. That is well trodden ground. Let the rodeo queen continue."

Emerie flipped the redhead the bird before continuing.

"The Others are less concerned with bothering the Unseeing than we are topside. So it doesn't matter that you can't See. They don't exactly mind their manners or well, I'd be shit out of a job. Lucky for you, I happen to be very good at said job."

Pausing, Em reached into the chest pocket of her favourite leather trench, before pulling out an egg sized red jewel with a look of sheer triumph.

"Is that a ruby?"

Gwyn gasped.

Emerie scoffed before muttering dryly.

"Easy to stay humble with you two. "

"This is no mere ruby. This, my idiots, is an Illyrian protection stone. A rumoured fable, I hold the first found in three centuries reportedly."

"By you?"

"Yes by me, Archeron."

Emerie harrumphed.

"You could sound slightly less skeptical especially considering it's for you."

With that Emerie stretched her tattooed palm across the table and dropped the stone in Nesta's palm.

With a lupine smile she added.

"Go buy me another Americano and I'll tell you how I've saved your life. Add a shot of caramel, it's the least you can do for your saviour Nessie."

***

In the sticky blackness of the Other Cassian awakened and mountains moved. With the crack of his wings the promise of war grew ripe in the air.

In his slumber much had changed.

Babylon had fallen. Like him.

But she had found him.

His mate.

And so, like the tide he would rise.

And find his way to her.

[uh-niran-really]

Fem Reader x Lifeweaver - Cramps

Content: Sweet Sweet Fluffy Fluff!

Word Count: 700+

A/N: Now I do hope you don’t kill me @lifeweaver-niran but I couldn’t go to bed without finishing this one. I hope this helps you feel better! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 (Going to bed now I promise!!)

“Hey Petal I’m back from work an- Oh my dear what’s wrong.. what’s got you crying like this?”

You were curled up in bed, sobbing and it worried him. Assuming you were hurt he flicked his right hand sparking his Biolight to life, a soft glow warming the room.

“Cramps.. they hurt so bad Bua..”

He gives you a sympathetic smile. Though he never had them he could understand the pain one would go through in this situation. He had a mother and sister as well as Satya so was very used to dealing with this sort of thing. He was going to care for you.

“Tell you what, I’ll run you a nice hot bath and we can stay home and cuddle on the sofa with a movie. How does that sound beautiful?”

You nod and slowly peel yourself out of bed. Niran heads to the bathroom whilst you get ready. Being a brilliant naturalist that he is, he knows the best oils and salts to add to the water to help you relax and feel fresh. A concoction of Lavender, Eucalyptus and Chamomile. The room smelt quite heavenly when you stepped inside. The water was the perfect temperature too. He really knew you so well. You feel your body relax and the cramps start to ease up slightly. It was divine.

“Relax darling, I’ll take care of everything, call if you need me.”

——🪷——

You step out of the bathroom in a fresh robe, provided by Niran. You notice right away that your shared bedroom had been tidied up and fresh sheets put on the bed. He had laid out some clean comfortable clothes for you to wear with a little note to tell you he loves you regardless and he left some medicine and water for you on the bedside table.

‘I love you no matter what tulip. Water and medication are on the bedside table. Please take it for me. I promise it will help.’

The smell from the kitchen was enticing. You followed it to see Niran humming along to some classical music, a glass of red wine in his hand, stirring a pot of warm Tom Yum soup, a popular Thai dish that always hit the spot.

“Oh Niran.. You’re so wonderful..”

You feel yourself tear up at the sight of your lovely boyfriend doing all he could to care for you. He had long and sometimes stressful days at work, so to come home and take care of you like this was enough to have you sobbing.

“Oh my darling, please don’t cry! Come here!”

He sets his wine down and opens his arms for you, to which you of course accept, embracing him. He felt so warm. You enjoyed cuddles and hugs with Niran for how safe they made you feel.

“I’ve made your favourite. I hope you don’t mind the wine. I got you some grape juice to supplement that for now, it’s not best for you to drink whilst your body goes through this. It will taste more or less the same.” He teased you a little. He was right though, and didn’t want you feeling worse. You didn’t mind that he drank wine, he too needed to relax.

“Thank you.. you’re the best.”

“I also found us a movie to watch. It’s a romantic comedy to lift your spirits! I do love to hear you laugh.”

——🪷——

Dinner was delicious as always. Niran really knew how to warm your soul with the food he made. He loved to please and was all too happy to help you feel better where he could. He warmed up a blanket in the dryer and set it on the sofa along with a tall glass of water and some chocolate.

“Ohh I almost forgot!”

Flicking his right wrist again, he sparked his Biolight to life once more, he swiftly creating a pretty pink rose.

“I didn’t have the time to get you real flowers to please forgi- oh!”

You wrapped your arms around him so tight he lost his balance for a second. He loved seeing you like this, so sweet and adorable. Kissing the top of your head he thought back to the day you first met, regarding it as one of the best days he ever had. Meeting you forever changed his life for the better and he would dedicate his life to making you smile.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too!!”

You spent the rest of the evening cuddling up to him, laughing at the movie and occasionally sharing the sweetest of kisses. You forgot about the pain for the most part, but Niran was there to get you anything you needed to help you feel better. You couldn’t ask for a better partner.

[gabessquishytum]

Spreading the Soft Hob™ agenda. Soft, squishy Hob means a caring partner. A partner who wants to know you have eaten and haven't harmed yourself today. A partner who will urge you to go hiking up a mountain for your own mental health, not for lifted ass or whatever.

Soft Hob means deep, loud laughs at silly jokes, at the faces you make when you see something stupid. A Hob who adores when you pout in the morning because you aren't a morning person while he has already made coffee. Soft Hob means a strong hug to keep you warm.

Soft Hob also means he cries when he sees a lost puppy, and he smiles when you shout KITTY when you see a cat. Soft Hob surprises you on your birthday with a day at a pets' sanctuary. Soft Hob knows your favourite soda flavour, and your second favourite in case the first one isn't available.

Soft Hob also means getting mercilessly eaten out until you forget your own name

Laying face down on the floor as I admit that I am not immune to the Hob x Reader propaganda. And there's something about Hob letting himself be soft after centuries of battles, pain, torment, questionable morality... he's soft, now. He's earned it and he's worked for it, and it has NOT been easy. But now he gets to be soft and squishy and full of warmth. Long afternoons together, Sunday lunch cooked to perfection, fresh flowers on the windowsill. Holding hands, physical touch whenever he needs it, warm baths with lavender oil. Gentle bickering over washing the dishes, splitting the chores because he hates laundry and you hate grocery shopping.

Soft Hob is everything. Because it doesn't always come easy, but it's always worth the risk.

[glorious-sunset]

Reflections on Ep. 6 of LBFAD on rewatch

Arbiter Hall, Day 6: DongFang QingCang (DFQC) has discovered that the greenhouse flowers are connected to Xiao Lanhua’s (XLH) mood, thus, tending to her heart as well as her body are vital to her full recovery. As she waters her greenhouse that morning wearing the lavender gown he had created for her, he asks her what she likes and wants, that he would bring her anything within the three realms that she asked for. The only thing XLH can think of is that she wants her Da Qiang to be safe. Since their first night together, she had been in constant terror of him being discovered and executed, which had manifested as a terrifying nightmare. She offers to make his favourite food and fix the destiny leaf if he will turn himself in, thus sparing himself from execution for deserting. But as usual he just rolls his eyes.

DFQC needs the destiny leaf to be repaired, but XLH has not yet made a full recovery. To his surprise, he does not mind waiting another few days. Since XLH had discovered his sweet tooth on their second day together, she made pretty flower-shaped cakes for him every day in assorted flavours. He was, of course, used to the finest cuisine and pastries made by the best chefs across Cangyan Sea. But when he ate XLH’s flower cakes, she smiled and gazed at him fondly in a way nobody else ever had.

XLH was indeed very fond of Da Qiang, but never forgot that he was an escaped criminal who would one day be gone. She needed to pursue her dream to pass the fairies’ examination and work at Fountain Palace, so she told him that was the only other thing that she wanted. Sitting close to him, she felt comfortable enough to admit to him her secret crush on Changheng (CH). He looked away in annoyance as she praised CH but was gentle in his rebuke that CH did not deserve to be compared to the Moon Supreme. “There are a lot of beauties in the three realms” XLH told him earnestly. She still thought her heart belonged to CH, but wanted Da Qiang to be happy. With his looks, intellect and irresistible kindness, any woman would certainly be very lucky to have him.

“To benzuo, nobody in the three realms is as unique as Xiao Hua Yao” DFQC replied sourly. This little demon had cursed him and was the only one capable of repairing Lady Chidi’s destiny leaf. He had tried to lift the curse and fix the damned leaf himself without success. Yet, she was unique in other ways too. Unlike most celestials, she did not unthinkingly abide by the heavenly laws. She had not reported an escaped prisoner, and instead, had treated him with kindness.

XLH, caught off-guard by this seemingly adoring proclamation, tried not to lead him on. “The one I like is CH, not you,” she said as he looked hurt, “and I want CH to be by my side, not you!” As she leaves, DFQC considers what she says. XLH’s happiness and recovery are crucial to his goals, so perhaps he should give her what she wants…and pretend to be CH? CH is her dream lover, and he is now forced to consider what being a lover actually means. There are more than a few romance novels lying around Arbiter Hall, some raunchier than others…so this is why XLH hadn’t wanted to share his bed that first night. He wonders what it would be like to kiss her soft lips again…

Haishi: Dieyi has discovered the identity of the thief who stole Lady Chidi’s destiny leaf to be XLH! To avoid suspicion, Ronghao decides to kill her during the upcoming fairies’ examination and make it look like an accident.

Arbiter Hall, Day 7: XLH wakes naturally, still wearing her beloved lavender gown from Da Qiang, to find a grumpy CH seated close by her bedside peering at her intently. How long had he been there observing her and waiting for her to wake?! She can’t quite believe he came here “to be with her”, but when he states that “benzuo will stay by your side in this form from now on”, it all makes sense. A little relieved, she forces him to shed his disguise! The handsome CH in bland white robes morphs back into an infinitely more striking DFQC in bejewelled turquoise robes. He offers to tie up the real CH and bring him here if it will make XLH happy! :D Of course not! cries XLH, half afraid that he will actually do it. That would only put DFQC in danger (she believes) and protecting him is the most important thing to her.

Shuyu Forest: Supreme Liyuan finds his daughter Danyin overdoing her magic practice for the fairies’ examination, much to his displeasure. He has indulged her too much since the loss of his wife and other daughter. The foolish girl won’t give up her naïve fantasy that she can be with CH! He is terrified that she will follow in his footsteps and pursue a doomed relationship. If he himself hadn’t pursued his wife, who had been from the Moon Tribe and thus forbidden to him, she wouldn’t have ended up trying to flee from celestial soldiers while in the excruciating throes of childbirth. His heart ached when he thought of the suffering she had gone through due his selfish pursuit of her. He had no idea whether she was even alive, or what had become of their other daughter.

Arbiter Hall, Day 9: Over the past few days, DFQC had spent hours every day training XLH to improve her powers for the fairies' examination. But her progress has been slow. As she leaves after a training session, he complains to Shangque (SQ) that it is difficult to improve her cultivation. He never expected taking care of a plant would be more difficult than conquering the whole world! But surely there is no challenge that he cannot surmount? He will do whatever it takes to make XLH the happiest woman in the world! To aid her recovery (and since he shares her emotions, to make himself the happiest man in the world!) :D He has decided to be present at the exam to help her win first place.

Danyin arrives. XLH, concerned for DFQC’s safety, makes him conceal himself during her visit. Danyin is widely regarded as the most beautiful fairy in all of Shuiyuntian, and is intelligent and powerful, but DFQC only views her as a threat to his Xiao Hua Yao. He is immune to the charms of any woman apart from XLH, including the beautiful Xie Wanqing and Danyin. He loves XLH only because she loves him so much.

Danyin demands her destiny leaf to see if she can enter Fountain Palace (and have a future with CH). Be careful what you wish for Danyin! Danyin’s actions of damaging the Destiny tree open the Tianji mirror for her. To her shock, she sees XLH marrying her prince, CH, not once, but twice! She is unable to reconcile these visions with the timid and powerless cry-baby before her, and shoves XLH down violently. Once she has stormed off, DFQC gently helps XLH to her feet and smirks at the thought of being able to kill Danyin for her. But she quickly makes clear her preference for non-violence.

DFQC is confused – surely eliminating any potential threat would be the easiest option? He is angered by Danyin’s treatment of Xiao Hua Yao and doesn’t want to see a repeat of it at the exam tomorrow. Choosing non-violence is far more difficult and unnatural for him, but if it is what makes her happy, it is what he must do. From here on, he chooses to adhere to her wishes for non-violence even in situations where it would definitely be in the interests of the Moon Tribe to choose violence. As early as eps. 8 and 9, he places his love for XLH far higher among his values and priorities than his responsibilities towards the Moon Tribe, when he chooses not to kill CH and not to kill the High Council of Shuiyuntian in these respective episodes.

Yujing, Day 10: XLH arrives for the fairies’ examination wearing the lavender gown DFQC created for good luck (minus a frilly neckline overlay). She hears rumours that CH has been in seclusion making an Immortal Pill to help a certain fairy with her examination. Some details are wrong, such as how long he was in seclusion and which fairy it was (they all think it was Danyin – did she spread these rumours herself?). Danyin arrives and regards XLH appraisingly. She has been thinking about it and wonders whether, somehow, XLH is the Goddess of Xishan who went missing and is actually CH’s fiancée? (she asks her father about this possibility in ep. 12).

Ronghao arrives late after setting up his assassination attempt on XLH and correctly guesses that CH’s secret crush is among the assembled fairies. Yunzhong carefully eavesdrops on their every exchange. He is not unsympathetic to CH’s plight. As a member of the ruling family, Yunzhong himself had to sacrifice the love of his life to fulfil his responsibilities. That is why he allowed CH to keep the handkerchief of his love as a memento, on the strict understanding that CH’s duties must always come first. CH’s engagement to the Goddess is vital to protecting the three realms from the ultimate evil Taisui, who if released, would consume everything in its terrifying wake.

As CH hands out Demon Pills, he is careful to avoid Danyin’s gaze, to her disappointment. For XLH, however, he tries to seek out her gaze, softly whispering “be careful”. As the judges watch the examination in Shuyu Forest through the Kuitian mirror, he is constantly worried for her safety and wishes to rush to her aid when a private fight breaks out, and when they see a giant Yingzhao possessed by the evil qi. As per usual, CH is unable to do these things, but XLH’s dark knight, DFQC, always appears by her side to protect her.

XLH has spent the last few days reading about the characteristics of various demons, and their strengths and weaknesses. She recognises that the Yingzhao which SQ placed in her path likes to eat the plant Hounds tongue, which she has carefully brought along. Yingzhao, appreciating her kindness and recognising the rare purity of her spirit, indicates that she should use her Demon Pill on him. He growls at the other fairies, however, when they show up to bully XLH. An invisible DFQC, showing amazing restraint, blasts the fairies away without singeing a single hair on their heads with his hellfire (he is not so gentle with Dieyi in ep. 7). XLH believes this feeble blast came from her and can’t believe how strong she has become! :D

DFQC leaves to investigate the evil qi he has sensed, asking SQ to guard XLH with his life. While he is away, the gentle Yingzhao becomes possessed by the evil qi, turning into a gigantic raging overpowered monster! SQ knocks Yingzhao away from XLH, but he then terrorises the other fairies. The kind and caring XLH cannot leave them in the interests of her own safety! She saves Danyin, and the fairies team up to bind Yingzhao with their powers. They can’t contain him for long, and XLH takes charge. Demonstrating natural leadership skills, she directs the fairies into a hollow tree, persuades them to give her their Demon Pills, and uses herself as a decoy to lure Yingzhao away! She cuts her wrist to attract Yingzhao’s attention, alerting DFQC, who suffers the same injury through the one-heart curse.

Full credit to @justarabidlittleyingzhao for Yunzhong's backstory headcanon!

Here is a link to my episode 7 review (contains spoilers). All of my LBFAD articles and episode reviews can be viewed with the tag #lbfad reflections (hyperlinked) and the table of contents to these is here.

[silent-words]

If you feel like writing it, would be awesome to see more of your take on Modern AU with Professor Dekarios. 🙂

I read 'Thirst Thoughts' and it sure is 🔥

Thank you so much! Have you read The Blue Flower? It is actually written with my Modern AU Tav Kitani (yes, in my head I develop Modern AU with one character). I think I'll end up like @auroraesmeraldarose with one fic set in Faerun and another fic in Modern AU.

Sorry that it took so long to answer! Here is a little peak into that AU, although not so hot this time. It just came to me this way.

Coffee

Kitani's mood was just as bad as that powdered coffee she was trying to drink. She spent the whole night finishing her report for the conference she currently attended. She had to deliver the report in the next section, and due to lack of sleep she had to consume some caffeine during this coffee break. Kitani had to concentrate, or she would make a mistake. And in that case her ever-present academic rival would not fail to point at it. Of course he would deliver in the same section. Maybe his performance would have been more suitable at the general section, with his overconfidence. But he did make decent research. One of the best scholars, who researched Victorian poetry, that she could not take from him.

She looked into the cheap plastic cup and sighed. Practically all her fellow lecturers, as well as professors and assistants around her were holding paper cups from the small coffeeshop on the ground floor. Her finances, though, wouldn't allow her to throw around money on cups of coffee. At least in her department they had a decent coffee machine. She gathered her will, took a sip and winced.

'How can you endure the, erm, flavour of this concoction, doctor Kuoroa?' She heard the familiar baritone and turned her head. Just next to her stood the very person she had thought about just now. A mane of brown hair with with grey streaks, rectangular glasses and a wide genuine smile – the standard view she had got used to during the last couple of conferences. And, of course, a paper cup in his hand.

'Not all of us have professor's salary, doctor Dekarios,' she quipped, 'some of us have to ration their consumption to survive.' The reaction was unexpected. She thought he would laugh and tease her, maybe make a bad joke. Instead he furrowed his brow in concern for a second, but then smiled again:

'Cannot argue with that. But if, theoretically, you had spare money to buy coffee, which one would it be?'

'Well,' she laughed, 'not the one i'm holding, that's for sure. I bet it would be latte with lavender syrup.'

'He looked genuinely surprised. She wanted to know why:

'Is something the matter? You look as if you've found out I'm a werewolf.'

'Not exactly,' he chuckled, 'I just thought you liked your coffee as you wore your makeup – completely black. It's not a slight on your appearance, doctor Kuoroa, just an observation.'

'I'm full of surprises,' she said, 'that are yet to be uncovered.'

'If it's a challenge, I'll gladly take it up. Now excuse me, I'll be right back.' With that he disappeared in the crowd. Kitani's coffee was already cold and undrinkable, so she decided to leave it on the table. Well, without caffeine she would have to survive on her own venom. She had plenty of it, for sure.

In a couple of minutes she was already moving towards the conference-hall, when suddenly she heard her name. "Doctor Kuoroa, please, wait a bit!" It was doctor Dekarios, now holding two paper cups, one in each hand. He approached Kitani and outstretched his left hand towards her:

'That's yours. Your luck they had lavender syrup.'

She looked at the cup in disbelief:

'I told you, I cannot pay you...'

'You don't need to. Consider it a present. Besides,' he added with a wink, 'I need my favourite academic rival in good shape!"

'Okay, then,' she took the offered cup, 'I'll show no mercy towards your report.'

'I'll be looking forward to it,' he said excitedly.

She took a sip of her new coffee. This lavender latte felt heavenly. Not because it was just a good coffee, but because someone let her a hand in dire times.

No beta we die like overexhausted academics.

[winchesterszvonecek]

12. “No one’s ever done this for me before…”

This is from the list : Ways To Say I Love You

Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek x fem

Ways to Say I Love You - [ Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek ]

Prompt: “No one’s ever done this for me before…”

Word Count: 889

Warnings: female!reader, fluff, mentions of being stressed

Masterlist | Otis Masterlist

“Can I look yet?” You asked, Brian’s hands covering your eyes as he led you into your apartment, your arms flailing about in front of you because you wanted to know if a wall was coming at you before your face hit it, not afterwards.

“No.” Brian chuckled, having just placed his hands over your eyes not five seconds ago. He led you further in, taking care not to bump you into anything as he guided you towards the bathroom, his stomach filled with excitement over your reaction to his surprise. “Nearly there.”

“What’s that smell?” You sniffed, a calming scent drifting into your nose as you blindly allowed him to guide you where it was that he wanted you to go, all whilst ignoring your questions. You didn’t know whether to be excited, nervous or scared honestly, but the more you breathed in what you had deduced as lavender, you quickly found yourself starting to feel nothing but relaxed.

“Okay, are you ready?” Brian asked, his tone indicating that he was smiling and you knew he was probably shaking with excitement as he always did get all giddy when he planned something for you, which was just another thing you loved about him.

You nodded your head, hearing him mumbled something under his breath before his hands left your eyes, allowing your gaze to land on the freshly filled bath, which you couldn’t help but notice had flower petals floating atop the calm, scented water and candles surrounding it, but not too many as you were dating a firefighter after all.

“You’ve been working so hard lately…” Brian whispered, brushing your hair aside to place a kiss on your neck as he came to stand behind you, his hands landing on your shoulders, which he gently started to massage. “…and I know you’ve been stressed, so I wanted to treat you with a night of relaxation.”

“Brian…” You said quietly, your voice barely audible as you couldn’t bring yourself to speak over how loved you felt right now. You wanted to turn to him, to hug him, show him how much you appreciated this as you really needed it, but with the way his fingers felt as they worked to loosen the knots in your shoulders, you couldn’t bring yourself to move. “It’s perfect.”

“That’s not all.” Brian told you, planting a kiss just below your ear, one which had you shiver beneath his touch. “I went out, got the ingredients to make your favourite dinner… and your favourite dessert. So, whilst you relax, I will attempt to cook without burning the house down.” He added with a chuckle, one you couldn’t help but mirror, only yours sounded a little more breathy as you started to feel a little teary over his gesture.

You wiped at your eyes, the simple action sparking concern in Brian’s chest as he slowly spun you around, his heart clenching when he saw your watering eyes and your trembling lip. He brought his hands to your face, gently cupping it before wiping away a tear that had rolled down your cheek.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” He asked, hoping he didn’t overstep in preparing all of this for you as you did like to do things yourself most days. “Did I… Did I overstep?”

“No. No.” You said immediately, your hands landing atop his forearms as you wanted to keep him close to you. “No, this is… This is so sweet of you, it’s just… No one’s ever done this for me before so it took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“Oh, baby.” Brian said softly, bringing your face forwards to place a kiss on your forehead, one he allowed to linger for a second longer than normal as he could tell you needed it. And you did need it. You needed it badly. “You deserve all this and more.”

“I’m so lucky to have you.” You whispered, falling against him and allowing him to embrace you, the tension already leaving your body and you hadn’t even gotten in the bath yet. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably crash and burn.” Brian joked, making you laugh into his chest a little, a sound that came more than welcome to his ears as it had been a while since he’d heard you properly laugh. “Come on, let’s get you in the bath and I’ll get started on dinner.”

“Can we maybe… order in instead?” You asked, lifting your head from his chest to look up at him, his brows a little furrowed. “It’s just… I’d rather have you in here with me than out there making a mess in the kitchen.”

“I do not make a mess.” Brian defended, rolling his lips as he could feel his smile rising as he did indeed make a mess. “It’s called a method.”

“A mess method is more like it.” You chuckled, making him pout and scrunch up his lips like a child. You couldn’t help but laugh, your arms slipping around his neck to place a kiss against his lips, making them drop from their dramatic pout and into a smile. “Please? Stay with me?”

“Of course I’ll stay with you.” He said softly, gently caressing the side of your face with his knuckles before he kissed you again. “I will always stay with you.”

Prompt List

Like this? Apply to my Otis tag list here!

tagging: @sancochillo @kellykidd @violetmacher @kiddbegins @alexxavicry @babyyoda89 @wandamaxim0f @bloodybagels @stephydearestxo

Like my work? Consider buying me a coffee!

[faketrex]

Get to know me!

Thanks for tagging me, @myheartalivewrites! I don't believe I've ever done one of these. The urge to title this REX FACTS is strong.

Rules: answer + tag some people you want to get know better and/or catch up with!

Favourite colour: right this second, there's a really lovely pinky-coral flower in a vase in front of me. I can't imagine a better color! Pinky-coral it is.

Last song: I went for a run today and took a meandering post-run walk because I needed some extra cooling down. I listened to Declan McKenna on my walk. The last song that came up was... "The Phantom Buzz"

Currently reading: my "marked for later" list on AO3 is 34 pages long. I'm rolling around in that for a bit.

Currently watching: nothing, which is pretty common for me. That last thing I watched was Dead Boy Detectives and I enjoyed that.

Currently craving: something salty and cheesy. That's also pretty common for me; I'm a cheese fiend. I am also craving a vacation.

Coffee or tea: coffee. My current coffee order of choice is iced coffee with lemon juice and lavender syrup.

Tagging some people for funsies under the cut, but if this tag were any lower pressure you would need to put some air in it. Weird metaphor! Cool.

@ad-astra13, @caterpills, @stratocumulusperlucidus, @eusuntgratie, @queerofthedagger

@cha-melodius, @schweetheart, @anincompletelist, @pancakehouse, @sparklepocalypse

[mk-writes-stuff]

Snapdragon and Lavender for the flower ask game?

Oh these are interesting!

Snapdragon: what is your OC’s most used phrase?

This is going to be a difficult one but I’ll try it.

Belladonna: I’m not entirely sure but it’s some noble politeness. Probably “your honor”

Cassie: “Fuck that.”

Nellie: “Excuse me,” or similar niceties

Narcissus: “How dare they?” is one of his favourites. So is “you’re/they’re jealous of me.”

Ricinus: I wish it wasn’t but it’s probably, “hey, pretty girl” or a similar catcall

Goldenrod: “Darling.”

Cassiopeia: “Seriously?” She’s constantly corralling people who don’t do quite what she wants them to do

Stellaris: “on the Old World, they used to…” He wants to infodump. So bad. So fucking bad.

Rhys: “Um.” He’s very shy lol

Sel: “You see, um.”

Lavender: How does your OC cope with loud noises?

Most of them are fine honestly. Belladonna, Cassie, Nellie, Narcissus, and Rhys don’t like them but can do okay with them. Ricinus, Goldenrod, and Cassiopeia don’t care.

Sel hates them but he can tolerate them - he needs to stress-stim to calm down but he’ll be okay. Stellaris cannot handle them. He will have a meltdown if exposed to loud sounds if they’re more than about a second or sufficiently loud. If you set off an emergency siren near him he will cry.

Thank you for the asks!