#there are two hyacinths too. their names are Very and Special

[partyinthemysterymachine]

minecraft birds. you agree

[beomiracles]

Hii! Firstly I'd like to say congrats on 500! I really admire your writing. If possible, I would love to see a love artist sight story about baker!Soobin and florist!reader, their shops located across the street from each other and they exchange glances frequently, but have never introduced themselves. Eventually something brings them to meet (I'm sorry I don't really have any ideas) and they hit it off instantly.

Again congrats on 500!! So excited to see what's to come 🫶🫶

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... hearing that people admire my writing makes my heart swell ohmy ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞ this idea was super cute omg!!

wc -> 1.4k

pairings baker!soobin x florist!reader (gn) warnings just very cute/nervous two people liking each other vibes

Your knees buckle as you try to balance the three heavy boxes in your arms. Determined to get them inside in one go and not have to walk back to your car again, you grip them tighter as you begin to carefully move forward. You had just made it around the corner, the entrance to your small shop was within your grasp when suddenly a crack in the pavement made you stumble. 

“Woah!” You yelp but quickly manage to regain your balance, only glance up and see the box on top of your stack swaying dangerously close to the edge. Shit. It was bound to fall and it would most likely aim for your head. With a small shriek you screw your eyes shut as you brace yourself for the impact. But it never comes. — Instead a pair of large hands easily lifts two of the boxes, stabilizing the one on top and evading any danger from the situation.

“Hey, are you okay?” A gentle voice calls out and you blink as your gaze shifts to the cute guy from the bakery across the street. His shop had opened not too long ago and you frequently caught yourself staring at the cute guy behind the counter, though never daring to step inside. You would usually pass each other on the way out during closing hours but even then nothing more but shy glances were exchanged. 

Now he was standing in front of you; and you looked like a complete idiot. Picking up your jaw from the floor, you quickly clear your throat as you thank him. “I should’ve gone two times..” you jokingly say as you try to ease the awkward air. He grins, “or you could’ve just asked for help.” — “Soobin, by the way”, he then adds and you blink at him before his words register. “A-ah of course!” You give him a coy smile as you push the door to your small shop open, giving him your own name in the process. 

You lead him past the many flowerbeds and overcrowded shelves of pots and plants; catching him mumbling a quiet “wow” to himself as he eyes one of the larger hyacinths. Finally you reach your small storage room where you set your box down. Soobin follows your lead as he discards the two boxes in his hands. “You’ve got a really nice place”, he says as the two of you make your way back into the main part of the shop. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks at the simple compliment and you smile as you mumble out a quiet “thank you.” A small silence envelops the two of you as you both occupy your gazes amongst the many flowers, neither of you seemed to want the moment to end. “I uh…I’ve seen you around quite a bit…” he hesitantly begins as he scratches the back of his head. — “Yeah, me too…I uh I mean I’ve seen you..not me!” You wanted to slap yourself for stuttering over your words like that. 

Soobin doesn’t seem to mind as his face lights up in a small grin. “Really?” He asks to which you shyly nod. You’re about to reply when the doorbell to the small flower shop chimes, announcing a new customer. Both of your heads turn in the direction of the elderly lady who just entered, clutching a small sheer pink purse in her wrinkly hands. Her expression softens as her gaze falls on you and Soobin amongst all the flowers. 

You immediately recognize the lady and rush to greet her. “Martha, hi how are you today?” Smiling, you place a comforting hand on her shoulder. She was a regular customer as she ventured down the seven blocks from her home almost everyday in order to buy flowers for her sick husband. — Martha gives your hand on her shoulder a light squeeze as she lets you guide her through the vast collection of bouquets. “I’m fine dearest, it’s a rather beautiful day today is it not?” 

Glancing over your shoulder you give Soobin an apologetic smile but he only waves it off as he takes his time to inspect the hyacinth he’d previously seen. Turning your attention back toward the old lady you nod, “it is indeed, are you looking for anything specific today?” You wonder as you help her scour through a few blue lilies. 

Martha nods as she points toward a bouquet of yellow tulips. “Something colorful, I want James to experience the summer weather too”, she explains and her carefree words manage to pull at your heart. “Of course”, you smile as you reach for the flowers she had picked out. 

Once behind the counter you wrap the bouquet in yellow ribbons to match the tulips. “Is that your boyfriend?” She suddenly asks as she peers over at Soobin who was busy going through the assortment of roses. “Martha!” You exclaim as your eyes widen, “he is not.” — The old lady sighs as she pulls her gaze from him, “a shame, he was rather cute… Were you not standing with him when I came?” She then asks and you bite your lip. 

“Yes but.. I barely know him.” You mumble as you finish wrapping the bouquet, reaching for a small card and a pencil. Martha purses her lips as she eyes you suspiciously, “alright.” — You give her a small smile, “anything you want me to put on the card today?” 

After seeing her off and telling her to say hi to her husband from you, you turn back to Soobin who was watching your small exchange with a warm expression. “Sorry about that…she comes almost everyday..” you explain as you fiddle with your hands. “It’s alright, she seems sweet”, he grins and you nod, “she really is.” 

He then turns back toward the roses he’d been eyeing, “do you grow all these yourself?” He wonders with slight astonishment. You giggle as you shake your head, “no that would be far too tedious, besides I can’t provide the right conditions for many of them to grow in this small shop.” Soobin blinks as the tip of his ears turn a bright pink, “ah, of course..” he sheepishly says and you can’t help but find him endearing. 

“I do grow a few out in the back though..” — “Can I see?” He eagerly asks, but quickly realizes how straightforward he’d come off as he chuckles nervously. “I…I mean if that’s okay, you totally don’t have to I just…” 

You have to bite your tongue at how cute he was as you watch him with a big smile. “I would be happy to show you.” 

The back of your shop has an old wooden door leading out to a very small garden, allowing you to grow very few but very beautiful flowers. You spend a good ten minutes explaining the different steps when it comes to planting the seed and caring for it, Soobin listens intently as his gaze follows the movements of your hands. 

Realizing that you had gone on a small ramble you awkwardly clear your throat as you sneak a glance at him. Soobin grins from ear to ear as he sees your flustered expression. “Yeah…that’s the basics..” you mumble as your fingers busy themselves with gliding across a soft petal. — Humming, he rocks back and forth on his heels as he keeps his hands behind his back, hesitating on his next words as he watches you pamper the flowers ever so tenderly. 

“That lady from before…she um, mentioned something about a boyfriend..” He slowly begins and your fingers freeze against the flowerstalk, did he hear that? You gulp as you nod, avoiding to look at him. Gosh, it would be the end of you if he overheard your full conversation with Martha. But his next words surprise you. 

“Do you…do you have a boyfriend?” He shyly asks and you find yourself blinking dumbfoundedly as you glance up at him. “I…I don’t..” You bite your lip as you watch the way he visibly breathes out the breath he had been holding in. “O-oh, that’s a relief…I mean- not a relief but…I mean…” He splutters as his face turns into a bright pink. 

“W-what I wanted to say was…I would like to ask if…maybe you would join me for coffee someday..?” 

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you watch him run a hand through his dark hair nervously, his lips forming into a nervous pout as he awaited your answer. 

“I would love that.”

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[can-youimagine]

Season of Scandals Part 2 (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Summary: There are few people you hate more in life than Benedict Bridgerton, unfortunately, it seems as though you’ll have to get used to him

TW: 18+ Smut (minors do not interact) Female reader, period typical misogyny, suggestive, enemies to lovers, swearing, angsty

Word Count: 2124

Part One

Masterlist

Dearest Reader,

It seems as if this author should go to the races. I am thrilled to inform you that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton and Ms. (Y/N) (L/N) are engaged to be wed. Rumor has it that they are seeking a special license to marry by the end of the week!

I have said before that the only reasons for such a license are love and scandal. We all know the first is certainly not an explanation for these two. Though I suppose scandal is always an option, I believe it is far more likely that the two are eager to be married. After failed proposals and persuasive mamas, yes, I think it likely that the two are eager to be out of the marriage mart.

~Lady Whistledown

“You’re really getting married?” Anthony asks. “I thought after Ms. Pierceton, you would have sworn the whole idea off.”

Benedict shrugs. “You know as well as I that there are some things more important than a man’s feelings on the matter.”

Anthony’s eyes widen. “No!”

“Pardon?”

“You slept with her!”

Panicking, Benedict urges his brother to keep his voice down, glancing into the hallway to ensure no one heard his outburst. “I did no such thing,” he states before muttering, “It might have been better than this. At least I would’ve gotten my prick wet.”

“Brother, what on earth have you gotten yourself into?”

You stiffen as the modiste tightens your dress. She and your mother talk about the upcoming wedding as if it were the event of the season, as if it were born from love and not from duty. With each lace she pulls, you cannot help but to think of Benedict and the mess he has gotten the two of you into.

As awful as this entire situation is, you imagine it could be worse. At the very least, the man has money. You will certainly live in comfort.

That’s what you tell yourself as your families discuss the wedding. Luckily, it seems as if everyone has an opinion, except for the two of you, who are eager to get this over with as quickly as possible. You glance at him across the room. You suppose, he is quite attractive. There are certainly worse people who you could be forced to wed.

Benedict is able to ignore the pit of dread in his stomach as he watches you with his family. You all get along just fine. That is more important to him than anyone’s honor. As your mothers debate flowers, you sit on the floor, playing marbles with Gregory. He smiles in spite of himself. A small part of his mind drifts to your children, but he refuses to allow himself to dwell on the thought. 

He doesn’t have time to.

“The latest Whistledown is here!” Eliose exclaims. Hyacinth rushes to her, eager to get the details from the pamphlet. 

His mother’s scoldings of improper behavior are ignored as his sister begins to read. “Dearest Reader, I have new information regarding the situation at Danbury Ball-”

You gasp, looking to Benedict, who jumps into action. “Eloise, now certainly is not the time for a gossip column.”

“It appears that Mr.-oh,” she trails off. “I suppose you are right.”

Hyacinth does not seem to realize the situation as she continues to ask what it said. To her credit, Eloise does try to keep the situation as civil as she can. Unfortunately, Hyacinth’s curiosity is much too strong for her. She snatches the paper out of her sister’s hand, skimming the page before asking, “Why is your name in here, Benedict?”

That gets the attention of the adults in the room. Anthony urges the children out, taking the pamphlet from Hyacinth. He reads it quickly. His grip on the paper so tight that it creases under his touch.

“What does it say?” his mother asks.

“Nothing you want to know,” he mutters, cursing before he throws the paper to the ground.

Benedict takes the pamphlet from the ground, holding it so the two of you can read it.

Dearest Reader,

I have new information regarding the situation at Danbury Ball. It appears that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton and Ms. (Y/N) (L/N) were caught in a compromising position in the garden. One person has even said they saw Ms. (L/N)’s corset completely undone as Mr. Bridgerton held her. That would certainly explain the tears in her dress and the flush on her cheeks as she left the ball that evening.

It also explains just why the two felt the need to wed so quickly. Even if it will be a loveless marriage, it will be an honorable one. If the Bridgertons must all be rakes, at least they recognize their honor.

This author is glad to know that even in marriages without love, the couple can still find some solace in the physical aspects of matrimony. 

~Lady Whistledown

You feel like you are going to faint. Again. You feel the shame in everyone’s eyes as they stare at the two of you. Your mothers are no doubt wondering where they went wrong in raising you. Your father is embarrassed by the entire situation and hopes that this means he no longer is expected to provide a dowry. Anthony paces the room, trying to figure out a way out of this situation. 

Benedict wants to explain the situation, but he knows it’s no use. He could never convince every member of the Ton that nothing uncouth happened. He spares a glance at you. It makes his heart shatter. You look so broken, so ashamed, so humiliated, and it is entirely because of him. 

“You are still to wed in three days,” Anthony states. “Until then, the two of you will do your best to remind anyone who asks that Whistledown herself said she only has a rumor.”

Your mother speaks up, “Is it only a rumor?” 

“What she implies is not true,” you state.

“But your dress, and-”

“You would sooner believe a gossip column than you would your own daughter!”

“(Y/N),” Benedict whispers, surprising himself. “There is nothing we can do about any of this now. Anthony has thought out a plan, and it should be best if we follow it.”

Looking up at him, you realize that marriage with Benedict will be okay.

You stare at the ring on your finger. It’s beautiful and heavy, and it will certainly take some getting used to, but it is a reminder that you have done all you can to settle any rumors. You know not everyone believes you. In fact, you are certain that no one believes you at all, but now that you are married you do not have to worry about this following you. It will become a small anecdote at a ball. “I heard she was caught in the garden, that’s why they wed so quickly.” Nothing more.

Unfortunately, you are not there yet.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“Ms. Cowper,” you greet, giving her a tightlipped smile. “Thank you.”

“I suppose the haste in marriage was due to the rumor. After all, the two of you have waited this long, why get married now?”

“You said it yourself. We’ve spent entirely too long unwed, why wait any longer?”

“And why Mr. Bridgerton? The last time I saw the two of you in the same room, you looked ready to bite his head off.”

“Is there something you would like to say?”

Smirking, she answers, “Not unless you have something to share.”

“Have a good day, Ms. Cowper.”

Benedict downs one last drink before the two of you leave for Aubrey Hall. Colin makes a quip about the carriage shaking, earning him a good smack from Anthony before the two of you are off. 

Sitting across from your husband, you turn the ring. “It was a lovely party.”

He nods in agreement. “It is quite a trip to get there, you should rest for a bit.”

“Benedict, I should apologize,” you say, looking at your lap. “I know that we have never been particularly close, but I hope that we will come to be.”

“We will have to, will we not?” He watches as his ring reflects the sunset. “I hope you will make an effort, and I will do the same.”

“You are impossible!”

“Pardon?”

“I have not been the only cruel one.”

He finally looks at you. “Why have you been so cruel? I have only followed your lead.”

“You scared me,” you answer honestly. “You still do.”

His gaze softens. “Why? What have I done?”

“I was scared that I would let myself fall for someone I could never have, and now that I have you, I’m scared that you hate me.”

“My wife,” he takes your hand, “I could never hate you. You are my wife, and even if this isn’t the marriage I intended to have, it is mine, and I will love my wife. I just hope you can make that easy.”

“I’ll try,” you respond. 

He smiles as he gestures to the spot next to him. “Would my wife care to join me?”

“She would.” You giggle as you stand. The carriage hits a bump, sending you into his lap. 

His smile widens. “On second thought, this will do just fine.”

“Mr. Bridgerton!” you gasp in mock distress. “Why, I would think you are trying to ruin me!”

“That’s because I am.” 

He presses quick, frantic kisses wherever he can reach, your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, before finally settling on your lips. His lips feel more wonderful than you ever could have imagined. He kisses you with more passion than you ever thought possible. You moan against his lips before you can stop yourself.

You feel his lips curl into a smirk against yours. He pulls away for a moment, causing you to whine.

“I know, my dear, but I have more I have to do if I am truly going to ruin you.” He tugs at your corset. “Turn around for me, dear. I want to be able to look at you, this time.”

You obey. With much more precision than last time, Benedict unties your corset, letting it fall off your chest. He holds you steady as you stand up, allowing the dress to fall off your body completely. He sucks in a breath, reaching up to touch your breast. He watches in awe as your face screws in pleasure. “Those fools,” he mutters, “thinking that I would’ve been able to leave that garden if I had seen you like this.” He shrugs off his shirt. “I never would’ve let you leave.” Sliding a hand down your body, he continues, “And, I certainly wouldn’t have denied seeing you like this.” He runs his fingers between your folds, reveling in the sounds you make.”I would’ve made sure all of England knew that you had granted me this honor.” 

His hand slides further back, gently pushing into you in a way you never knew was possible. Your knees grow weak, and your moans louder, as his fingers push further into you. He takes note, pulling you onto the bench beside him. He stands and pushes his trousers off, revealing himself to you. His chest fills with pride as he hears your breath hitch. Tentatively, you reach out to touch him, but he takes your hand instead. 

“There will be time for that later.” Pulling your legs to where he once sat before positioning himself over you. With one foot holding himself on the floor and one leg on the bench, he holds himself over you. 

“This’ll hurt, just for a moment,” he explains, leaning down to kiss you, “but then you will feel the most remarkable pleasure of your life.” He punctuates his sentence with a kiss as he pushes himself into you. 

He swallows your gasp. As he moves, you feel overcome with pleasure. He certainly was right. He certainly is. Your pleasure continues to grow until you feel yourself tighten around him. You cry out in pleasure as you pulse around him. His cries combine with your own as you feel him release inside of you, staying in just a moment longer. 

As he pulls away, you whine, causing him to laugh. “I promise, my dear, we will be doing that and so much more for as long as you’ll let me.”

“Please.”

He smiles, pulling you up to meet him for a kiss. This one does not have the same promise behind it, though you still feel yourself grow weak just from his lips. You lean against him, trying to catch your breath as he does the same. You are certainly in for a wonderful marriage indeed.

[bonefall]

howdy, super enjoying clanmew day! hope its not bothersome but I wanted to pop in and talk about two of my ocs' name translations-

thunderchase > krrakapaoha "thunder will-travel", better translated as "will seek out thunder", in reference to her bold daring attitude - it's supposed to evoke the image of running directly into a storm! her name could also be translated as stormchaser or thrillseeker. the boldness of her name is in contrast to her sister's name, which is...

pickerelstripe > kishkiseek (kishki is a claymew word shhh) "chain pickerel with thick stripes". could also be translated as.... uh, pickerelstripe. her name's supposed to be rather dull, especially next to her sister, which plays into some major self-worth issues - it doesn't help that their dad's the leader and christened them with these names.

theres some other fun names I have too but a lot of them involve my own words and i'd feel bad flooding your inbox with stuff from my dialect aha

No no feel free to go on, I love everyone who's submitted a dialect and it's good to see you around. Chop up snippets of your lore and send them in as like... "tidbits" and I'll shout out your sideblog every time, if you'd like. I need to fix up the masterpost tonight to bring more attention to the specific blogs that run their own, btw, thinking out loud.

GO LOOK AT THEIR DIALECT, Claymew, on their sideblog @pickerelstripe

But anyway! Onwards!

Pickerel isn't here in the UK, but there is a very similar sort of flower. Pickerel is a US waterplant, with a rising purple flower that pokes above the surface of the water, but in the UK, there is the very special,

THIS IS ITS ACTUAL NAME,

Smartweed.

[ID: A picture of the real, actual, existing plant, smartweed. It is a clustered, corncob-like pink flower that rises on a stalk out of the water.]

It's also called amphibious bistort, which Clan cats agree with. It's from the same cultural "classification" of flowers as bistort, hyacinth, and loosestrife. At some point I would like to make a "clan culture" guide to how they sort flowers, but for now, the words to know are these;

Tower (Flower) = Swahr A generic term for a tall, compound flower or several flowers that grow around a central point, usually without thorns (which excludes teasel by definition). Typically purple or pink.

Smartweed (Polygonum amphibium) = Yarpow A semi-aquatic flower which can count as a "reed" in Clanmew. A welcome, beloved pop of pink at the waterside, though Clerics occasionally grapple with a recurring falsehood that burning it will make a cat smarter. It doesn't. It just causes smoke inhalation. Where does the falsehood come from? RiverClan perpetuates the rumor as a mean joke against other Clans. Word comes from Brain + Light Pink (the color 'blush', in Clanmew).

[thekatebridgerton]

Modern Bridgerton couples + Pets

Just thinking about which kind of domesticated menaces they would bring into their homes.

Saphne: their first pet is definitely a Basset Hound because Daphne is a dork. Name is Princess, she is super cute. Simon later decides he can't take being outnumbered and gets a Pitbull (with some manly name like Maverick) to teach Princess how to be a good guardian dog. Jokes on him the Pitbull ends up twice as spoiled as the Basset hound and follows him everywhere huffing for cuddles.

Kanthony: They have Newton the demon corgi, although they probably get a mate for Newton at some point and just enjoy life as proud corgi grandparents when Newton & wife begin making puppies. They most likely end up with a houseful of corgis because Kate is not okay with neutering Newton and Anthony can't deny her anything.

Benophie: These two are definitely bird people. All their birds are rescue and they keep them in a special open part of My Cottage greenhouse, while rehabilitating broken wings. Officially they have a chicken, two parrots, a parakeet and a Cockatoo (Pollock, Picasso, Monet, Dali and Frida) but they feed every bluejay, canary, raven or winged personality that comes to their birdhouses. So you never really know exactly how many birds they actually have at home.

Polin: I want to say they are also Dog people. But Colin just looks like the guy who has a thing for exotic reptiles whenever he travels. And Penelope would definitely appreciate the irony of owning a Chameleon. Also their pets would be the protected species kind that need their own enclosure. Colin has Popcorn, a Blue Iguana, which he rescued in the Cayman Islands and a couple of very colorful Geckos (Muffin and Nugget). while Penelope just keeps a tortoise she's had since she was little called Lola, and a blue Panther Chameleon called Ozzy, that Colin got her for her 16th birthday. (her chameleon is the boss of that house)

Philoise: Eloise has a grey Persian Cat that looks perpetually grumpy called Napoleon, Phillip has a brown Saint Bernard that he calls Noel but his kids call Noodle. El's cat did not take it well when Eloise moved in with Phillip and the twins, simply because the dog was being way too friendly with Eloise. And the cat wasn't having it. So he marked his territory in a very feline way.

Franchel: Michael was never much for pets, but Francesca has a whole aquarium of Koi fish in her apartment and loves to add pieces of decorations to it so the fishes begin growing on him. After the get married, Michael actually builds Fran a pond with it's own ecosystem so she can raise her Koi in relative freedom outside of the small aquarium they are used to.

Hyraeth: These two are not exactly pet people, but I feel like teenage Gareth owns a horse that he takes care of very well and Hyacinth is persuaded to help out with his horse and begins loving it as well so she gets Anthony to buy her a pony which she names Twilight Sparkle. they both grow up to be very responsible horse owners.

Grucy: they share ownership over the class pet in Elementary school. A spotted bunny named Waldo. And they low key treat the rabbit as their child. Since Lucy is technically not allowed to have pets by her uncle and Gregory was banned from the pet store after the last 'free the animals' incident he was involved in

[sayakxmi]

[Magi reread; special edition] Episode 1: Aladdin and Alibaba [Part 3]

Sorry it took me literally two days to finish a single episode, but I was having a very not good health day. And night. Bro, I haven't been this sick in... I don't even remember. 0/10 would not recommend. But anyway.

Ok, but the music in Magi is so fucking good, man.

Ok, they look awesome here. I wish we got more Magi roadtrip, and less becoming more powerful god than the other guy, and then him becoming more powerful god than you, and then you becoming more powerful god than him, and then him-

The whole moment when the desert hyacinth appears actually looks pretty damn cool. Makes me wish a bit we saw more weird fauna-flora-things from the magi universe. ("Is the Final Arc a joke to you?" Yes.)

Did Budel just tell to all these slaves that he'll pay them if they help save the wine?

Also, I think Notre Empire's playing again.

F (she tripped)

Nice catch, Morgiana.

But also. Morgiana. Morgiana. You're a Fanalis. You can literally just. Jump away.

Morgiana. Morgiana. WHAT ARE YOU DOING. JUST JUMP AWAY.

Huh... They didn't say anything about it in the weather forecast...

Also, in the manga Alibaba actually warns everybody what this plant is, at least not yet. It's... honestly, neither bad nor good choice. On the flipside, it certainly adds to how dramatic the entire situation is, and overall shows well how fast everything is happening, too. On the other side, the manga showed better both that Alibaba's pretty knowledgeable, and also that he, honestly, thinks and reacts quickly. But oh well. Both achieve different things.

RIP. But also, man, Morgiana looks pretty here.

MORGIANA, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, JUST TURN AROUND AND JUMP OUT, YOU *CAN* DO THIS.

F

Actually, where tf is Aladdin.

Ok, but also, that's kind of what I was talking about. Like, if you get the impression that I'm overfocusing on Alibaba, which, frankly, I know I tend to do, and also will absolutely keep on doing, then in this specific case it's not simply my horn-shaped lenses. This entire episode is very Alibaba-centric. It's not even subtle, especially since, you know, this is based on his introduction chapter. Aladdin's side is only sprinkled here, and Morgiana's just randomly added to have all three of them present. But this is still centred around "His name is Alibaba", so it's hardly a wonder why he gets so much spotlight. But that does end up giving you the impression that he is the protagonist, even though the title actually belongs to Aladdin. And, frankly, the upcoming Balbadd Arc will certainly not clear that confusion.

Shame I'm not doing gifs, cuz it was such a funny CHOMP moment.

RIP Morgiana and Mina.

Traumatized.

Am I, like, the only person who finds this so hilarious. What's up with the dramatic pose. I wish I could find what it reminds me of, but, sadly, I have no name for it XD

It all ends up being kind of weird when you remember that in the anime they were made slaves. Like, cool of the guy to still value her life, but still very unexpected.

Oh, ok, now it makes sense. Budel's like, don't let her die, cuz I'll have to pay more for it.

It actually makes me wonder if Morgiana could handle a desert hyacinth. Anime tells me she can't, but I don't trust the anime.

Oh, that! That's what I was talking about. Alibaba gets flashbacks here, right before he jumps in to help Morgiana and Mina, which kind of ends up making it look like he's doing it more out of guilt than just... out of wanting to save them, you know?

Oh, THERE you are! Also, this episode does quite some disservice to Aladdin as a character, too, now that I think about it. As in, beyond shifting the focus from him to Alibaba. Like, in the manga he IS trying to help, but there's sand in the flute, and it doesn't work, but here he's just... watching. I actually recall reading some comparison between anime and manga regarding that, but it was looong ago. But in very short, manga!Aladdin was more like the New Testament God, while anime!Aladdin was more like the Old Testament God, as in, in the manga he actively seeks others, while in the anime he's more about wanting others to prove themselves to him. Or something like that. But, yeah, you can get that impression.

But other than that, he just comes off as kind of and ass here? Like, bro, you COULD help. But he's actively choosing not to. Which is in a pretty big contrast with manga Aladdin, who, while still rather passive, is far more willing to get himself involved with others and their troubles. In the anime... he's so insensitive. That's the word I was looking for. Anime Aladdin comes off as far more insensitive than manga Aladdin.

And I'm, once again, connecting it with that focus shifted from Aladdin to Alibaba, because it does feel like it connects itself, no? If Aladdin were to act here, this would've made him an active pariticpant in the events, instead of taking on a more supportive role the anime writers put him into. It would've moved the spotlight back to him.

Anyway. Again. Budel is willing to pay a slave. BUDEL.

Well-earned. Very satisfying. Fuck you, Budel.

Live Aladdin reaction.

Also, again, sounds like Alibaba's more doing it out of guilt, he doesn't want to sit back and regret everything or sth (that's what he's thinking as he's jumping into the hole), while in the manga it was more "somebody has to do this, and since nobody's willing to act, **I** will", and as he jumps he's reassuring the kid, and also more focused on assessing the situation, rather than thinking about how he feels.

Anyway, but I will point out that he jumped to save two slaves here, which at least shows that he doesn't agree with slavery.

Man, wouldn't it be cool if somebody could open it. Somebody with red hair and crazy ass strength. Man.

Like, you won't convince me that Morgiana couldn't move even with all these tentacles holding her back. You just can't.

Thank you for finally doing something, Aladdin! You could've done this the whole time, but nooo.

Ok, but it's pretty af.

-insert Attack on Titan joke here-

Thank you for help, Ugo! But also holy shit, that looks so WEIRD.

RIP loose hair Aladdin, you're dearly missed.

RIP Alibaba

Man, stop being so dramatic about dying.

See? Your soon-to-be bestie's here to save your ass.

Watching Budel's despair is very entertaining.

Sorry not sorry I skipped some Jamil to fit in more Aladdin and Alibaba.

"Will you be my friend?" (A) ;_; And also, that's when we find out that this is what Aladdin asked Ugo for. 10/10 choice. You get a point, anime adaptation.

FRIEMDS ;_____;

Ok, but the sheer hilarity of Budel yelling at them, and Aladdin just turning around like "Let's go Ugo-kun" (flies away).

Hahaha

Ok, now that I see it, it looks like a bit of a parallel to Alibaba and Aladdin sitting in the caravan earlier. Back then they both looked serious/kind of down, but now they're looking forward to the adventure (F).

Honestly, hearing Yubi Bōenkyō play in the bg reminds me, like everything about this arc, how different Magi seemed at the beginning. Man.

[dianedantedominic]

Hey, boss?

What.

There's this thing...

The Wednesday thing?

Yeah...

Fine... Diane first, she runs the joint. I'll do Dante on his account, and Damien here too... I guess Elio will have his own, if I have the patience.

Character Name: Diane Jacinta Anima

Age: Looks or Actual? Whatever, 19 and 70.

What they usually smell like: Hyacinth, sometimes it's Lavender.

A smell they associate with their childhood: Aji de Gallina

Their go-to drink: Ristretto.

Do they alter their clothes (Cutting/sewing/anything): She makes her own!

How they sleep: She doesn't.

The weirdest dream they've had: "Well, before I died, I had a dream where me and my... Friend, Lucia, were attacked by a monster while on our cruise!... Wish I listened to my dream..."

Do they wear designer brands (which ones?): She would rather make her own.

How often do they shower: Very often. She doesn't being dirty.

How many steps are in their skincare routine: "What's skincare?"

What they are afraid of: Men above the age of 40, snakes.

Are they a germophobe: Nope.

Which parent are they closest to and why: Her mother, since her father is dead.

Their favorite food and why they like it: Crepes, they remind her of Lucia.

Any accessories they wear with special meanings: She wears a necklace given to her by Lucia, and two friendship bracelets from Damien and Dante that connects the siblings.

Something they would never tell anyone: She would let Poison Ivy (or Jessica Rabbit) step on her, and thank Poison Ivy.

Something they wish everyone knew about them: "Oh, I would love if more people came to me with questions or torn clothes... Gives me more things to do besides watch the souls."

If deified (made a god), what would their domain be: Goddess of Longing (non-sexually, shes sad oki).

Are they sure of their sexuality or questioning: Nope. She's a Bambi Lebanese. [Boss, it's Lesbian.]

Their favorite genre for movies: Cartoony Comedy/Horror.

A unique and somewhat unusual power or ability they have: She floats in her sleep.

Short answer questions:

If there is a spider in the house, what do they do? She scoops it up in a jar then places it in the terrarium the souls made for all the little critters that wander into the Department.

When they like someone, how do they show it (romantic or platonic)? If she ever did get a new lover, she would be over the moon. Mainly just being super sweet, but on bad days she would demand cuddles.

If they woke up as the opposite gender, what would they do first? Consider if the situation would make her straight or not.

[terpsichore-rhodes]

peer to peer guidance a flashback self para

Terpsichore was rapidly running out of patience with Hyacinth. Her designs were rarely structurally sound, and even when they were, they lacked grace, elegance, or beauty. But it was her job to instruct, so instruct she would.

“Okay, Hyacinth, let’s look at this...” she peered at the building plan in front of her. “Dwelling?”

Hyacinth pointed to a corner where there was a scribble of illegible handwriting. “It’s a barracks.”

“Ah, which is a sort of dwelling. Immediately I don’t see any place for an armory, and all of your windows are... massive - which would allow for an easy attack in - so I didn’t immediately pin down military usage.”

“I wrote it in the corner.”

“And I usually tell you that the title is best written largely at the top of the document for easy findings. Also, legibly.” Terpsichore took a moment to consider whether or not she should have said that last bit more under her breath. “Gather around, everyone. Let’s do some peer to peer guidance.”

Rhodesy gathered the other classmates around to gaze at the abomination Hyacinth had produced. “Okay, everyone, what do we think we’re looking at here?”

The class gazed in silence for some time before a young man named Berry piped up. “Uh, maybe... maybe like a greenhouse? I would say a prison, but you’d never do windows that big in a prison.”

“I was actually getting prison, too,” said Ryazan, a woman from the largest village in Sylvania. “But maybe it’s a more humane take on prison. Like, it’s above ground, the prisoners can see the outside...”

“But there’s no locks or bars anywhere. It’s more like a dwelling. A home.” Henrich was one of Rhodesy’s favorite students.

Berry shook his head. “But there’s so many rooms. Unless this is like... a special design for a large family?”

“Oh, oh! Is it a hospital?” 

“Oh that actually makes a lot of sense.”

“But there’s no clear operating room. The flow is... off. Where would you separate out the patients if an outbreak happened? Where’s the furnace?”

That revelation from Ryazan put everyone into a murmuring state.

Terpsichore couldn’t help but say: “You could look at the title.”

Henrich’s brow furrowed above his round glasses. “But there isn’t one, is there? I thought Hyacinth purposefully left it off. You know. As a like, learning exercise or something.”

Rhodesy smiled a tight lipped smile. “It’s down in the corner.”

Henrich’s brow furrowed even more. “Oh, I assumed that was just a scribble to test if the charcoal was the right color. What does that say?” The class gathered around to squint at the line of “text.”

Ryazan was the first to offer a guess. “I think it says ‘bakery.’ But that... that can’t be right.”

“This isn’t a bakery. Is it maybe... Barracks?” Berry’s voice was riddled with uncertanity.

Hyacinth lit up and clapped her hands together. “See?! I told you it made sense.”

Henrich looked at the plans again, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I mean. Not really. If this is meant for military usage, the windows should be a lot smaller. You don’t want a shell or something to come through. Also those halls are so narrow - traffic flow for a military would be a nightmare. You typically want it wide enough for a logical number of shields to fit perfectly - two or four or something like that. And... well... do you only have one entrance and exit? Because if that’s the case I’m just going to barricade that front door and set the place on fire and boom - I’ve wiped out your entire military in one go. It’s just... not very well designed.”

Terpsichore beamed with pride. Henrich Alley was going to go places one of these days. Of all the students in this class, he was the one who had some talent. Fine - she would admit a lot of talent.

“Okay, that was excellent work, Henrich. Did we all learn a little something today?” Rhodesy tipped her head to the side, making sure to make eye contact with Hyacinth. The class all nodded and muttered general affirmatives.

“Good. In that case, why don’t we call it for the day? Don’t forget - next week your midterm designs are due. I want to see a clear artistic theme throughout your three building designs. Don’t be afraid to experiment.” She looked down at Hyacinth’s barracks. “As long as the buildings actually make sense.”

[rubysunnday]

reluctant caretaker

A/N: this is a very self indulgent fic, lol. it’s a comfort one for me right now

summary: having three younger siblings often meant Y/N was put in charge of looking after them. But sometimes her older siblings need some help too.

Aka, eight times Y/N did Anthony's job for him and one time he became her father

The trouble with having three younger siblings was that Y/N often got waylaid with looking after them and keeping them occupied. She didn't mind it - it was actually quite enjoyable to watch Hyacinth attack Gregory and to help Francesca with her pianoforte.

But sometimes, Y/N found herself becoming an older sibling to her own older siblings. When the weight of their responsibilities became too much, Y/N was there, like a rock that survives countless storms.

Hyacinth

Hyacinth and Y/N were two of the closest Bridgerton siblings in the entire household. They'd been close ever since Hyacinth's birth - the two becoming thick as thieves despite the years between them.

Hyacinth's beautiful, angelic face often helped Y/N escape the wrath of Anthony whenever Y/N snuck out the house and Y/N returned the favour by helping Hyacinth hide from the siblings she upset and by supporting her chaos.

It was a quiet day in the library and Y/N was minding her own business, organising the books and cleaning the room in general. The library had become a special place for her - her safety room,

“Y/N, hide me!” Hyacinth squeaked, skidding around the corner and running directly into Y/N’s legs.

“Wait, what?” Y/N asked, frowning, stumbling at the force of her little sister running into her. She grabbed

“Just, help me!” Hyacinth repeated, her eyes pleading.

“Hyacinth!” Anthony bellowed, his voice bouncing off the walls. Y/N could hear him marching up the stairs towards the library.

Y/N’s head shot up at the bellow and looked down at her little sister with wide eyes. “What did you do?”

“Please, I’ll tell you afterwards,” Hyacinth said, begging.

Y/N sighed and looked around for somewhere to hide Hyacinth. The library was big and didn’t have any decent hiding places. Y/N lifted her long dress up. 

“I swear, Hyacinth, you owe me,” she replied as Hyacinth crawled under the fabric, pulling it over her body. Y/N arranged her layers of skirt over her little sister and then pulled her shawl around too.

“Hyacinth!” Anthony bellowed again as he stormed into the room. He spotted Y/N organising the books and turned to her.  “Y/N, have you seen Hyacinth?”

Y/N shook her head and shrugged. “No, I have not. Sorry, brother.”

Anthony growled. “If you do, send her to me.”

“Why, what has she done?” Y/N asked innocently.

“She put a frog in my desk drawer,” Anthony snapped. “It’s hopping around the house, Colin is trying to catch it.”

Y/N tried not laugh, pressing her lips together. “Oh. Of course, if I see her, I shall send her to you.”

Anthony stormed off, out of the library. Y/N lifted her skirt up and narrowed her eyes down at Hyacinth.

“A frog, seriously?” She asked as Hyacinth crawled out.

“He took my book away,” Hyacinth replied, looking like an innocent angel.

Y/N rolled her eyes and shoved Hyacinth towards the door. “Shoo, I do not want to get in trouble with Anthony.”

Hyacinth rang off and Y/N resumed looking for her book. 

“Hyacinth!”

Y/N burst out laughing as she heard Anthony bellow at Hyacinth, his yell quickly followed by Hyacinth’s shriek and the sound of someone charging down the stairs. Y/N shook her head and smiled, laughing as she heard more yelling and shrieking from her sister.

Gregory

Y/N walked past Gregory’s room and glanced in as she passed. She paused and walked back, taking a look at Gregory and noticing him crying.

Y/N knocked on his door. “Gregory, what’s wrong?”

Gregory sniffed, wiping his eyes as he looked up at his big sister. “My mouse died,” he said softly, hiccuping.

Y/N’s eyes softened and she walked into her brother’s room, crouching down on the floor next to him and putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Oh, Greg, I am sorry, darling,” Y/N said, stroking his hair.

Gregory had found the mouse lurking in the kitchens one night and - despite the rest of the family telling him to get rid of it - Gregory had kept it, named it and given it a home.

And it had stayed in Gregory’s room for the past three months. Y/N had grown accustomed to checking in on the mouse whenever she went into her brother’s room and knew how closed he’d gotten to the rodent.

“Colin took him away,” Gregory whispered, more tears leaking out his eyes. “And I do not want to leave him but mother is insisting on everyone going to the party -”

“Hey, Gregory, calm down,” Y/N said gently. “We do not have to do anything with your mouse until you are ready. And I will stay by your side this entire party, alright?”

Gregory nodded and gave her a watery smile. “Thank you, sister.”

Y/N pressed a kiss to his head. “Always.” 

The floorboard outside Gregory’s room creaked and Y/N turned and looked to see who it was. Anthony stood outside the door, dressed in his waistcoat with his shirtsleeves rolled up, and gave her a smile, mouthing a thank you to Y/N. 

Y/N nodded and gave him a returning smile.

Francesca

Y/N eyed Colin. “Brother, that waistcoat is beginning to look a little snug.”

Colin let out a gasp and turned to face her. “How dare you!” He said, hand flying to his chest. “I was not going to say anything but your dresses are beginning to look a bit tight.”

Y/N gasped and whacked Colin’s arm, dodging the shove he aimed at her. “Colin!”

The front door slammed shut and Y/N looked up as Francesca stormed towards them.

“Hey, Franny,” Y/N greeted, smiling.

Francesca didn’t acknowledge her. She shoved past her and Colin and Y/N got a glimpse at her tear stained face as she ran past.

“Francesca!” Colin called, brow furrowing in concern at how upset his sister was.

“Leave me alone!” Francesca yelled, running up the stairs. A few moments later, her door slammed shut.

“Oh, I will go,” Y/N muttered, heading up the stairs after her sister. “Maybe run around the block and work off the bacon you ate at lunch.”

Colin gasped and let out a stuttered mess of insulted sounds as Y/N laughed and walked up the stairs.

Francesca had shut the door behind her but didn’t lock the door. Y/N knocked gently on the door but when she didn’t hear her sister reply, she opened the door and walked inside.

Francesca had dramatically flung herself face down on her bed and was quietly sobbing, her shoulders shaking.

“Oh, Franny,” Y/N said quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her sister and putting a hand on her back, rubbing it gently. 

Y/N had no idea what was wrong or what had happened to upset Francesca so much, but she didn’t need to know the specifics. Her sister was upset and needed her big sister on her side.

“Anthony is horrible,” Francesca sobbed. “He said such horrible things about the Earl of Kilmartin and he knows I like him, Y/N/N, he knows.”

Y/N sighed, stroking Francesca’s hair, twirling it around her finger. “Anthony is... well he is Anthony. He is very protective of us, Franny - he had to become a parental figure to all of us when he was barely an adult. I do not blame him for having his reservations about the Earl but know that anything Anthony says is... the majority of the time out of love.”

Francesca rolled over onto her side and looked up at her sister with teary eyes. “Can you talk to him?”

Y/N smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind Francesca’s ear. “Of course I can, my love. I shall tell him how ridiculous he is being and that you do not want to hear another word out of him until he can say something nice.”

Francesca giggled and sat up, hugging her sister tightly. “Thank you, sister. Truly.”

Y/N returned the hug. “Anything for you, Francesca.”

Eloise

Y/N concentrated on walking down the stairs, holding the hem of her dress up so that she didn’t trip over. She still wasn’t use to heels.

“You look like a newborn foal, Y/N,” Benedict called, eyeing her with a laugh as she gripped the bannister tightly.

“I detest these heels,” she muttered, taking Benedict’s offered hand and letting him guide her down the rest of the stairs.

“Do not let Eloise hear you say that, she will go off on a rant,” Benedict teased. 

It was if mentioning her twin sister’s name summoned her. Eloise suddenly burst out of Anthony’s office in a flurry of expensive silks and tears and ran past Y/N and Benedict. Both siblings stared after her, wincing when the door slammed loudly, shaking the walls.

“What is it with my siblings and running past me in tears?” Y/N asked, despairing. “This is the third time in as many weeks! What did you say, Anthony?” Y/N asked, turning to face her eldest brother with a hefty sigh.

“I merely mentioned her debut again and she got upset,” Anthony replied, shaking his head. “I shall talk to her.”

“No, do not even think about it,” Y/N said, halting Anthony by stepping in front of him. “You will make it worse. I shall go.”

“Wait, Y/N, I’ll come too,” Benedict called.

Y/N paused on the stairs and raised her eyebrows at him. She snorted. “Oh, this will be entertaining.”

Benedict gave her a confused look but shrugged, following after Y/N as she walked up the stairs and to Eloise’s room. Every time Eloise’s debut was brought up, she was bound to get upset or angry. It was the one subject that made her loose her judgement and her cool exterior.

Benedict knocked twice on Eloise’s door. “Eloise?”

“Go away, Benedict!” Eloise yelled and something hit the door with a hefty thud/

Benedict looked vaguely offended and took a step back from the door with a frown.

Y/N smiled to herself and chuckled. “That is exactly what I thought would happen,” she said, crossing her arms and looking up at her brother. “She thinks you’re going to gang up on her.”

“But I’m not going to.”

“Yes, but try telling that to an emotional teenager who’s big brother has upset her,” Y/N replied. “Go downstairs, I will be ten minutes.”

Benedict grumbled but trudged off down the corridor. Y/N waited for him to disappear and then gently knocked on Eloise’s bedroom door.

“El, it’s me,” Y/N called.

There was silence and then the door was unlocked and Eloise appeared, her eyes red. 

“How do you do it?” Eloise asked, sniffing.

Y/N frowned. “Do what?”

“Be perfect. Be the perfect daughter and sister all the time,” Eloise elaborated. “I cannot do it and it is so difficult to pretend.”

Y/N smiled at her. “I have been practicing for years, darling Eloise. It is all an act. I am not perfect and certainly not perfect all the time. I am merely perfect enough that mother and Anthony forget about my flaws.”

“How did you get through your debut?” Eloise asked and Y/N could see the genuine fear in her eyes. “How do you cope with all those people looking and watching.”

“For my debut, I relied on Colin,” Y/N replied honestly. “He never left my side unless I was absolutely certain I could manage on my own. Unlike Anthony, there was no judgement or constant interrogation of the suitors. He just listened to me. And after a while, the constant watching and looking does not bother you. It becomes background noise.”

Eloise dropped her head onto the edge of her door and closed her eyes. “I have hardly even begun and I am already exhausted.”

“I know.”

Y/N reached out her hand and grabbed her twin sister’s. Eloise squeezed her hand in return and gave her a tired smile. 

“But I will be with you every step of the way, sister,” Y/N promised.

Daphne

Daphne and Y/N had never been particularly close. They were complete opposites growing up - much like Eloise and Daphne were now - and were constantly arguing with one another. But ultimately, they did love each other.

As Y/N grew up, she looked to Daphne for help and guidance and her sister had provide it. But Y/N could tell that her sister was struggling. With her new life as a duchess, as a mother and as a wife.

“Daphne.”

��Yes, Y/N?”

The two were enjoying afternoon tea in the sprawling garden of Hastings House, watching the swans in the lake nearby.

“Are you alright?”

Daphne set her tea down and looked at Y/N. Y/N reached out a hand across the table and gripped Daphne’s, rubbing her thumb over the back of it and giving her a smile.

And that was all it took for Daphne to break down crying at the little table they sat at.

Y/N moved her chair to sit next to her sister and put her arms around her, comforting her as she cried. She didn’t have a clear idea of what Daphne was going through - being a mother was hard in its own right. But Daphne was also running an estate, being a duchess and also trying to navigate high society.

“You know, I am not a mother - or a duchess, for that fact - but what I do know is that I do not know anyone who is stronger than you, Daph. Mother does not count,” Y/N added quickly, noticing Daphne lifting her head up to object.

Daphne gave her sister a watery, emotion filled smile and sat up, taking a deep breath in. “Thank you, sister.”

Y/N smiled, picking her cup of tea up again. “You are welcome. Now, do we have anymore of those biscuits?”

Colin

Y/N was having deja vu. 

What was it with her siblings and locking themselves in their rooms whilst crying? 

“Someone should go talk to Colin,” Anthony said quietly, setting his newspaper down.

There was an obvious empty space at the breakfast table in between Benedict and Y/N where Colin usually sat. Ever since the Marina incident, Colin had hardly spoken or come out of his room. Wisely, no one had said anything about it. Violet was engrossed in Lady Whistledown, Hyacinth and Gregory were, for once, behaving themselves, and Eloise was quietly cutting her pear up into thin silces.

“He won’t listen to me,” Benedict replied quickly, taking a bite of his toast.

“I am the last person he will want to speak to,” Anthony added, sighing.

The two older brothers both turned to look at Y/N.

Y/N, who was mid bite of her apple, turned to look at them. “What?”

“Well, you are good with crying siblings,” Anthony began.

“Only because you are normally the one who has upset them,” Y/N countered, turning back to her breakfast, 

Anthony raised his eyebrows. “Y/N.”

“Oh, fine,” Y/N grumbled, shoving her chair back loudly. “I should really be getting paid for this, honestly.”

Colin’s room was next door to Y/N’s. She paused outside it and sighed. 

“This is deja vu,” Y/ muttered, raising a hand, knocking hard on the door. “Colin?”

Colin didn’t reply. Y/N dropped her head on the door and sighed. She grabbed the handle and twisted it, hoping it was open. It swung open with a creak and Y/N poked her head around the wood.

Colin was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with red eyes. He lifted his head and looked at her.

“Hi,” Y/N said quietly, closing the door behind herself and walking further into the room. “You left me on my own at breakfast.”

“Sorry,” Colin muttered.

Y/N walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, nudging Colin to move further over to let her lie down next to him. Colin shuffled over and Y/N laid down next to him, not caring that she was crinkling her dress or ruining her hair.

Colin didn’t talk. Y/N wasn’t expecting him to. But she also wasn’t expecting him to lift his arm up and wrap it around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Y/N let out a surprised noise but returned the hug, wrapping her arms around his side as best she could.

“Just so you know, they all practically drew straws as to who would come and talk to you,” Y/N said, her voice muffled by Colin’s waistcoat.

“Well, you are an expert now,” Colin replied, his voice a little croaky. “Four siblings now?”

“Do not even get me started, Colin,” Y/N replied, laughing softly. “When I eventually have an emotional break and lock myself in my room, you all better take it in bloody turns.”

Colin laughed, hitting her shoulder as she swore. His laughter faded and he tightened his arms around her but Y/N didn’t mind. It was often the two of them had a moment just them with no one watching or staring.

“Listen, if you come to breakfast I will not throw my orange peel at you,” Y/N said, lifting her head up. “I will happily give you the bits of my bacon that I do not like.”

“Will you give me your extra sausage?” Colin asked.

“I will give you all of my bacon if you give me a sausage,” Y/N countered.

Colin unwrapped his arm from around Y/N’s shoulders and held his hand out to her. “The deal is the deal.”

Y/N snorted. “You did not just quote my favourite book at me,” Y/N said, widening her eyes. 

Colin shrugged but his eyes were twinkling for the first time in a few days. Y/N giggled and dropped her head on to a pillow.

“I hate you,” Y/N groaned.

“No you do not,” Colin replied, all but shoving Y/N off his bed. “Now, you have promised me your bacon.”

Benedict

Y/N looked up as another ball of paper whizzed past her head, missing the bin and landing behind it. The bin was beginning to disappear underneath the numerous scrunched up balls of paper. Y/N wisely didn’t say anything, turning back to her book.

Benedict growled, ripping another piece of paper out his sketchbook and launched it at the bin. It missed the bin entirely and smacked Y/N in the head, landing in her lap.

“Sorry,” Benedict called.

Y/N raised her eyebrows at him but said nothing. She picked up the ball of paper and opened it, smoothing it out against the front of her book. “What’s wrong with this?”

Benedict looked up. “The shading is all wrong, the body looks weird...” Benedict sighed and ripped another piece of paper out. He threw it at the bin but it hit Y/N again.

“Alright, do I need to move or are you going to stop hitting me with balls of paper?” Y/N asked, closing her book and raising her eyebrows. “I can move the bin closer.”

“Sorry,” Benedict sighed, closing his eyes and dropping his head back.

Y/N looked at her brother. She unfolded her legs and stood up, walking up to him. She took the sketchbook from his hands and flipped through it.

“What is wrong with these?” Y/N asked, frowning as she perched herself on the arm of the chair her brother was sat in, leaning on his shoulder. 

“They do not look... right.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

“The angle is weird -”

“Then move the object or move yourself,” Y/N said simply. 

“It isn’t just that,” Benedict said. “Every drawing I do I find myself comparing it to other works of art.”

“But they’re not your style,” Y/N replied. “You cannot compare a Van Gogh to a Holbein because they are completely different styles. You just have to find your own style, Benedict.”

“When did you get so wise?” Benedict asked, looking up at her with genuine admiration and curiosity. 

“Oh, I think it is due to the constant pep talks I have to keep giving my siblings,” Y/N said, smiling, pretending to ruffle her imaginary feathers.

Benedict smiled. He nodded to the chair opposite him. “Go sit over there.”

“Why?”

“Just sit over there,” Benedict insisted, shoving her off the arm of the chair.

Y/N sat down on the chair and frowned at him. “Are you going to draw me?!”

“Well, you said move the object.”

“Wait, you were drawing me?!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Hush, you,” Benedict called, pressing a finger to his lips. “I am concentrating.”

Y/N giggled but didn’t move, just smoothed her skirt out and picked up her book again.

Anthony

“Y/N!”

Y/N looked up with a frown, trying to work out if she had heard her name or not. Deciding she hadn’t, Y/N returned to the pianoforte, plonking the keys with no real intention. 

“Y/N!”

Anthony stormed into the room and came to a sudden halt as he spotted Y/N sat at the pianoforte. “Y/N, did you not hear me yelling?”

Y/N frowned and looked up. “Did you yell for me?” She asked.

“Yes!” Anthony exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “How did you not hear me?” Y/N looked pointedly at the pianoforte. “Yes, alright, point made, now come with me.”

Anthony turned on his heel and marched off. Y/N quickly stood up, almost tripping over the leg of the stool as she ran after her brother.

“Anthony, slow down a moment!” Y/N called, barely keeping up with her older brother’s long legs. “Anthony!”

Y/N ran down the stairs, somehow skipping the last three, and following Anthony into his office. He stopped suddenly in the doorway and turned to face Y/N.

Y/N, who hadn’t lost the momentum she’d gained running down the stairs, ran full pelt into her brother’s chest and squeaked as she lost her balance.

“Carefully!” Anthony exclaimed, grabbing her arms and holding her up.

“You are the one who stopped!” Y/N yelled back. “What on earth is the matter?” 

Anthony sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, there is just an awful lot happening, I did not mean to panic you.”

“Anthony, just take a minute to breathe,” Y/N said. “What do you need me for?”

“We have been invited to the Queen’s garden party, and I wanted to know if you were interested in coming,” Anthony said, turning and walking up to his desk. He pulled out the invite from amongst the rest of his paperwork and handed it to her.

Y/N ran her eyes over it and shrugged with a nod. “Yes, I suppose.”

Anthony nodded but Y/N could see that he wasn’t paying her any attention. Y/N sat down in front of his desk.

“Anthony, what is wrong?” Y/N asked softly, nudging his foot with hers when he didn’t reply. “Anthony?”

“There is just a lot going on with the estates, the land, your debut, Eloise’s debut, Benedict and Colin.” Anthony sighed and dropped his head. “I do not know how father managed it all.”

“Well, in all fairness, Anthony, our father was raised and taught how to do it. He had years of practice you were not even out of Eaton when you had to take over,” Y/N replied, folding her hands into her lap. “All of this stress is understandable, brother.”

Anthony looked at his sister with a wistful gaze. “When did you get to be so wise?”

“That is exactly what Benedict said the other day,” Y/N replied, smiling. “And all I did was tell him to stop throwing paper at me.”

Anthony chuckled. He stepped around his desk and came over to Y/N, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Oh, what would we do without you, Y/N?”

“Well, I would imagine that the house would be on fire by now and Eloise would have ran off to anywhere else in the country,” Y/N replied, smirking.

Anthony shoved her gently and Y/N giggled, resting her head on his arm. 

Y/N

Her hands were shaking. She could feel the panic overwhelming her like a tidal wave and her stays felt suffocating even though Y/N knew they weren’t tight.

All she had to do was get through tonight and then everything, should be, fine. All she had to do was get through her first ball and then everything would get better. 

Y/N felt her eyes begin to sting and her throat close and took a shaky deep breath in as she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked like herself but also didn’t look like herself. An imitation of herself looked back at her.

She had never been this nervous before. It was unusual for her to be this panicked and scared before a big event. Y/N let out a little sob and sank down into her chair, burying her face in her hands to try and control her emotion.

Someone knocked on her door and Y/N quickly tried to make herself look presentable and not like she’d been crying. 

“Y/N, come on,” Anthony called, walking in, the floorboards creaking under his feet, “we are all waiting.”

“I will be down in a second,” Y/N called, frantically trying to touch up her make up. 

Anthony walked around the corner and stopped. He knew Y/N and could see when she was putting a mask on and pretending. He could see her red eyes, her shaking hands, and instantly knew something was wrong.

“Y/N, what is wrong?” Anthony asked softly, slowly approaching her.

Y/N turned and looked at her brother over her shoulder. He gave her a soft, comforting smile, and she instantly broke down, her shoulders shaking and her hands hiding her face.

Anthony rushed over and knelt down in front of her, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her into his chest as she sobbed. 

“Alright, calm down, you’re ok,” Anthony whispered, rubbing circles on her back.

“I don’t think I can do this, Anthony,” Y/N sobbed, clinging onto him tightly. “I don’t know if I can be perfect like Daphne was.”

“You do not have to be perfect,” Anthony said, taking her face between his hands and making her look at him. “You just have to be you. And we will be with you every step of the way.”

Y/N nodded and sighed tiredly. She took a deep breath in and straightened up as Anthony wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“Ready?” Anthony asked, standing up and offering her a hand.

“As I will ever be,” Y/N replied with a smile, taking his hand.

[skzsauce01]

Hymn to Myself

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: The Goddess of Spring tells a mortal the story of her abduction by the King of the Underworld. Follows the Homeric Hymn to Demeter.

Warning: kidnapping

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairing: fem Persephone!reader x Hades!Hyunjin

Dear mortal, listen closely, for I have deemed you worthy to hear my tale. You have danced in my name, burned offerings to me. You shall be rewarded for your worship. Lend me your ear now, and perhaps I will lend a hand in the future.

You know me by many names — The Maiden, The Younger, the Goddess of Spring — but today I will be the Queen of the Dead. There is no need to be so frightened. Your time has not come yet, nor will I be the one to ferry you to the Underworld, as you well know. Trembling and bowing your head for mercy will serve you no purpose but do as you like.

You have heard the tale, I am sure. The Dark-Haired One seizes a maiden and makes her his bride, as her mother, holy Night-Mare of the golden double-axe, ceases the earth’s harvest in her despair. The story you may have heard prior is my mother’s version, without the details of me in the Underworld.

Like most stories, it begins with the Cloud Collector, my father. Seeing that the King of the Underworld had no queen and that no goddess or nymph desired him, he offered him a bride, the flowerfaced daughter of the Corn-Mother. The King of the Dead accepted.

As you may have guessed, I did not know about this arrangement. The nymphs I surrounded myself with then, daughters of the Titan God of Rivers, did not either, yet they braided my hair and wove flowers in. Roses, crocuses, and hyacinths entangled with violets and irises to make a crown of spring. I still remember the way they fussed over me, singing songs and pulling at my scalp. I hated it. I only wanted to pick my blossoms. Once they had finished, I walked through the meadow, leaving them behind, gathering as many of the flowers I could into my arms.

Then I spotted a narcissus, its center as radiant as the sun and its petals the color of fresh milk. Its honey-sweet fragrance filled the sky and enchanted me. I approached it with both hands, ready to hold the bud to my nose, when the earth beneath me broke open.

A golden chariot drawn by sable-black horses leapt out, and I was snatched by the gloomy Lord. I cried out for my father, he of the thunderbolt, but he was the one who promised me, and I did not know that then. The King of the Dead had me in his grasp. He refused to let go. But still I cried a piercing scream, begging the pantheon of gods seated at Olympus to help, pleading Lord Helios in his own golden chariot to come down and save me. No one heard a thing when the chariot descended back into the earth.

And when we finally entered the Underworld, my voice had gone hoarse, my body limp. The flowers I clutched to my chest were the only remnants of the sunlit earth I had, but their petals had scattered into the wind and their stems wilted in the dark. The Dark-Haired One kept his arm on me, making sure I would not be able to flee. The shades wandered in the fields below us, their moans a constant hum.

Soon we stopped in front of his palace, a cold and imposing labyrinth with a locked gate reaching to the sky. A three-headed dog stood guard, saliva dripping from its maw. The King stepped off first and offered his hand to me, but I remained frozen on the chariot. It was still warm from the sun, and I wanted to soak in every last piece I could. The hound growled and lowered its center head to sniff me when I latched onto the side, even as the Lord of the house tried to drag me off.

“Leave me be,” I cried, pushing at his chest. “My father will punish you for this. He is the king of the heavens, and you will be struck with his bolt.”

“At the behest of the Thunderer, you are now my wife. Come, my queen, into your new home.”

I had no tears left, and I mutely followed him, keeping my eyes on the back of his wine-dark cloak. He led me through the gates, the corridors of his palace, all the way to the throne room. Two chairs stood next to each other, both as black as the horses and the sky. His was obsidian, etched with bone-white carvings and lined with onyx gems. The other, the ebony one intertwined with asphodel and pomegranates, belonged to me now.

“Are you pleased?” he asked.

I said nothing, for the fight in me had died along with the flowers I left between the paws of the hound.

“Are you frightened?”

Again, no sound left me. He made me sit on my throne, and I did with my head hung low. He cradled my face, and I shut my eyes. If he desired a kiss, then he could take it. I was a wife now, to the king of the Underworld too, and I would let my husband put his mouth on mine.

“Tired,” he declared after some time. “I will bring you ambrosia and nectar, so that you may recover.”

He brought the divine foods to me, but I did not eat. He tried to make conversation, but I did not speak. The scent of the asphodels and pomegranates were suffocating, and the musk of death coated the air untainted by natural fragrance. The thick slabs of wood underneath me were unyielding, and so was I. The Dark-Haired One was dismayed.

“What is it that you require?”

“I require that I be returned to my mother and to the earth.”

He smiled. “I have all of the riches of the earth. See what I have made for you.”

Humans called him the Wealthy One on occasion, and I understood that it was not merely a euphemism when he presented my crown to me: a golden-leaved garland with apple-red rubies the size of hen’s eggs and emeralds as vivid as moss, not a hint of death clouding its elegance. It was magnificent and befitting for a queen of spring. He undid the nymphs’ braids that still remained in my hair and placed the crown on my head.

“Are you happy now?” he asked.

“I will never be happy until I see the sun again.”

He frowned and left me alone on my throne, hoping I would change my mind. The ambrosia and nectar laid on the moonlight-silver tray. They glistened and glowed, their dangerously sweet scent enveloping the room, doing their best to entice me. Instead, I sat as rigid as a tree for days, languishing in my misery. Color faded from my features, and I looked like the very image of the Queen of the Dead, with my soulless eyes and ashen skin.

Day and night, I remained there. The Lord of the House was patient, as his realm was eternal and as I was immortal. He brought gifts to try to sway me: diamond birds perching on bronze branches, amethyst crocus bouquets with delicate sprigs of roses the colors of ripe peaches. I left them on the ground. They reminded me too much of what I no longer had. The treasures around me grew, but he persisted with his prizes and his attempts at conversation.

“There are many souls arriving today,” he would say. “How lovely,” I would reply.

“What do you think of the sky here?” he would ask, and I would tell him, “It is like you.”

“Would you like to see Cereberus again? I think he liked you,” to which I would answer, “I am content here.”

It was his offer to visit the Asphodel Meadows that drew me out of my fog.

We took his chariot, golden and gleaming as before. This time, he held out a hand for me, and I accepted. The three-headed dog at the entrance of the palace whined when I did not pat his heads like his master. The flowers I left as a peace offering earlier were gone, not even a broken stem lingering. I could only imagine that they were played with and eaten.

“He does like you,” the King whispered. He placed one arm around my shoulders as he held the reins with the other. I shrunk as much as I could, burying my nose in my hair so not to smell the death radiating off of him.

“Yes, I suppose he does.”

We stopped in one of the many fields, the asphodel ghostly white and fluttering in the breeze. The shades kept their distance when I stepped off the chariot and into the flowers. My bare feet touched the Underworld dirt, my ankles brushed the stalks as I roamed the meadow like I did that fateful day, plucking the prettiest blooms from their roots. The Dark-Haired One followed closely behind, and I did my best to keep my eyes on the iron sky as I wandered through more of the fields. Lone petals circled in the wind, adorning the false flowers of my crown with themselves. I thought about the nymphs — their songs, their chatter, their life — and nearly wept. Then I thought about my poor mother, with the beautiful garlands in her hair, finding no trace of me among the meadow, and I dropped to the ground.

“There is no need to cry,” said the Dark-Haired One softly. “The shades will not hurt you.”

“I want to go home,” I replied in-between my gasps. I thought that picking flowers would somehow soothe me, but they only pained my heart. “Please, let me return home.”

He held me up, and I saw up close the famed black locks that framed his face. “Home,” he smiled.

My spirits soared, and I clamored onto his chariot, eager to see the wispy clouds and splendid sun again. But I had deceived myself. For the Queen of the Underworld, the palace was home.

The throne was too far for my limp body to retire to, so he set me down upon a funeral couch. There, I laid and stared out the window at the vast number of souls inhabiting the fields. He brought me ambrosia and nectar once more, a feeble attempt that even he knew was wasted.

He ordered entertainers to sing and dance for me, but I stared at them like one of the many skulls carved on his throne.

However, my prayers were soon answered months later. The mighty Messenger of the Gods, with his golden wand, came and relayed my father’s message: I was to be returned to my mother, for she was wrathful against the gods. The Lord smiled and did not disobey the Thunderer’s orders.

“Go to your mother,” he said to me, “for I am not an unseemly husband. But you are my queen, and all those who do not perform your rituals with reverence, all those who do not perfectly burn offerings for you, will be punished.”

I did not care about those things. Still, I rejoiced and leapt from the couch with liveliness, my crown falling to the ground in my eagerness. To feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, to see the vibrant earth, to be with my mother — those were what mattered to me.

“Before you leave, I ask that you try the Underworld’s fruit,” he said, holding out a pomegranate. “As a blessing to us from the Queen of the Dead.”

“You have been nothing but kind to me, so I will,” I told him. I ate four of the seeds, red as the rubies on my Underworld crown and sweet as honey, before I could tolerate my impatience no longer.

The King’s chariot was already drawn with his sable-black horses. The dog eyed me curiously as I got onto the chariot with the Immortal Guide rather than his master. The messenger took the reins, and we ascended to the upper world. The taste of the pomegranate still coated my tongue when the earth cracked open.

We burst forth like a new sprout. The nymphs came out from the sea and flocked around, fussing like they did before. This time, I did not mind. I let them pull at my clothing and let them weave fragrant flowers in my hair.

My mother, with a dark robe, soon arrived. She saw me, stretched her arms out, and I ran into them, breathing in her familiar scent. She stroked my hair, all while murmuring in my ear about how I was safe now, how happy she was. I was happy too. I recounted my tale to her in a frenzy, words crashing into one another like the churning tides. We stayed together, roaming the fields, soaking in the sun and earth I had missed. I danced in the streams, playing with my nymphs in celebration, for I was home.

It was later that I learned that I was bound to the Underworld, having eaten the pomegranate seeds. I left with a heavy heart and arrived to the expectant Lord, smiling with his brows.

“You tricked me,” I said. I would not weep; I could endure my time here.

“It was a request you accepted,” he said as he strode to me with my crown. He adorned me with it, and I let him brush the loose tendrils from my face. “Welcome home, my queen.”

In the beginning, it was a partial home.

I left the palace as often as I could to roam among the asphodels and the shades. The shades grew acquainted with my presence and bowed to me, moaning cries of worship in that strange tongue of theirs. I learned to feed the horses with sweet pomegranate seeds to entice them into being obedient, and the golden chariot of the King became one of my possessions. I stayed away from him, for I still felt betrayed.

Despite my frigidness, he adored me like no other. The entertainers seemed to be a constant at his court now that I present. He offered to dance with me, to which I rejected every time. He played knucklebones with me on the rare occasion I was receptive. I suspected he let me win on several occasions in an attempt to open me up like a blooming flower. And whenever I returned from a walk through the fields, he would have a lavish bouquet of false flowers waiting on my throne.

However, over time I grew to recognize my stature. After all, not many goddesses could say that they had power like mine. I began to wear my royal title like a mantle, draping it around my shoulders and letting it trail behind me in my wake. I was not always merciful, as you may well know yourself, mortal, but it is nigh impossible to say that I was not fair. The Lord took this fervor of mine as a sign that I had forgiven him. I still do not know if I have.

I sit beside him, as his equal, commanding the dead just like he does. I let him kiss my cheek and sometimes return the favor if I am feeling kind that day. I dance with him, resting my head over his heart and breathing in his musk.

But he is the one who made me his bride and thrust the Underworld upon me.

It is difficult to say that I resent him. It is much easier to say that I cannot, and will never be able to, love him in the same way he loves me.

Thus, for four months of the year, I live as the Queen of the Dead, never as his wife.

Now, dear mortal, you have heard it all. Tell it to the world.

~ ad.gray

Extra: Sorry for the unholy amount of name euphemisms and epithets. The TL;DR is that I didn’t want the associations of the Greek gods’ relationships, and by extension their names, in this story because they’re a mess by modern standards, so I opted for euphemisms and epithets instead. I decided to not use names at all because consistency, I guess? This kind of works though since “Persephone” is telling the story to a mortal and mortals avoided saying certain god’s names, Persephone and Hades among them, out of fear or respect (source). Saying a god’s name gets their attention, and getting the god’s of death attention was considered unlucky (source). This story’s version of Persephone is pretty understanding, I guess. Also, I tried to mimic the style of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter (this was the translation I used), and the amount of descriptors is insane. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

Hope you enjoyed this! <3

[portias-husband]

Floral Question - Julian x Male! reader

Contains : Julian buying u a bouquet

It had been 3 years since you and Julian had made your relationship official. Three years since Julian had been happy beyond his wildest dreams, since he had been blessed with an amazing guy such as yourself. 

Now here he was, stood in the market of Vesuvia, staring at the seemingly endless market stalls, wondering why it was so hard to think of a gift for you. You, the love of his life, who appreciated him for everything he was, who made sure that he was always okay, who deserved everything in the world. What could he possibly get you to pay you back for that?

“Flowers! Bouquets! Get those you love a personalised gift!”

His ears perked up at the sound of a seller, hollering at those passing by. Flowers? That sounded like a good idea. Flowers have meaning. He could tell you how he feels without actually saying it. That was it. It was decided. He would get you a bouquet.

As he approached the seller, his nerves began to grow. What bouquet would he get you? Which flowers? What do the flowers mean?

“You, sir! Want a special bouquet for that special person?”

Julian nodded and the seller smiled, motioning for him to step inside the shop. The instance that he did, he was hit with the smells of thousands of flowers, all seeming to turn and greet him when he walked in.

He could see colours, colours that mixed with each other and he took and involuntary gasp. This may be a problem. He had no idea what flowers you liked and there were so many to choose from.

A small laugh interrupted his thoughts. It came from the counter, from a young girl who couldn’t have been more than 10.

“You seem confused sir. I’m guessing you’ve never given a bouquet before.”

When Julian shook his head, she gave a knowing nod.

“I figured as much. Most folk don’t know how to start, especially when you have as many flowers to choose from as there are here. But maybe I can help you. You see, each type of flower has an individual meaning. These purple hyacinths for example - represent deep sorrow.”

She held up multiple flowers and explained their meaning, while Julian listened intently to her ramblings.

“So what are you looking for? Who are you giving them too”

Her question made him blush.

“I’m looking for a present, its an anniversary gift for my, well for my boyfriend.”

She smiled softly, writing on a piece of paper.

“Okay, so romantic flowers? Perfect. How about I make a bouquet, and tell you the meanings so you can give your special boy a true heartfelt gift”

Julian let out a noise of approval, still embarrassed but intrigued to see what this small child could come up with. She went into the back room, telling him to wait and that she may be a while. He obediently waited, staring at the colours and smelling the air, enjoying the soft vibe that this shop gave off.

She returned after a short while, holding two baskets which were filled to the brim with different flowers, all of different colours and shapes.

“First of all sir, I think that red roses should go into this bouquet. They represent love, romantic love. And also can represent plans for marriage in the future”

Julian’s cheeks went red again, not noticing the knowing grin and side eye that the girl gave him.

“What else should go in?”

He was very curious now, staring at the two baskets with the same wonder in his eyes as the girl.

“Well since they are for an anniversary, I would recommend dahlias. They represent a lasting bond and commitment. Is that okay?”

Not even waiting for him to respond she reached into the basket and pulled out more flowers. 4 more, in various colours.

“Now we have primroses, which tell someone that you can’t live without them. And since you seem to be very in love with this boy, I would also recommend yellow tulips which tell someone that they have sunshine in their smile. We also have green orchids which represent good health, nature and longevity. They are rumoured to bring good fortune which will help for an anniversary. Then, since all good relationships need good friendships, we have yellow roses which represent joy and friendship.”

Watching her work was mesmerising, and the bouquet, with all the colours mixing, looked perfect. 

“Oh but we aren’t done yet!”

She reached under the desk, and pulled out some more flowers, blue and white. 

“These will form the rim around the flowers. Forget me nots are meant to mean true love and memories. And the white one, mistletoe, symbolises affection and asks someone to kiss you.”

More blood flushed to Julian’s cheeks at that comment about kissing. All the flowers were perfect. Like the girl was reading his mind and knew what his relationship was like. She gave a small smile as she finished the bouquet and almost looked older than she was, as her focused gaze landed on him. 

He paid and grabbed the flowers.

“Good luck Julian”

He froze. His name? Turning around, the girl was gone. 

Shaking his head, he reasoned that he was crazy, and that she probably just recognised him from being close to the Countess. 

It didn’t matter now. He had a plan for tonight. Those red roses will definitely come in handy for what he wanted to do.

To be continued in part 2

[glacialltz]

hi ,, can i request some pining hcs for the diasomnia boys please ?? 👉👈- ☁️☁️

Cloud Anon!!! It’s such a nice thought that god herself descended from the heavens to my humble little bakery. I had to put a lot more effort into these sweets, so I really do hope you enjoy. I had a lot of fun writing them 💗. I do hope I followed the recipe enough and they’re “pining”-y enough. Please, don’t hesitate to tell me your review afterwards. I hope the taste is to your liking 💞🍰I have a hard time writing for the Disaomnia boys, so I hope it’s alright~~ It’s a bit long, so I’ll add in a read more after Malleus~~

Malleus could remember the night he met you perfectly.

He could remember the crispness of the cool air, the reflective light of the moon, and the sight of the cold, grey gargoyles perched on the edges of the school.

He could remember the sight of you too. Your flushed cheeks and rapidly rising and falling chest, coupled with your ragged breaths, gave away the fact that you had been desperately running through the courtyard, trying to find your pesky little friend, Grim. 

He was surprised, to say the least, to see someone other than himself out at such an hour. 

However, his surprise increased when, instead of shying away from him like most other students did, you smiled at him - a sincere and joyful smile spreading across your face as you looked at him.

He couldn’t believe his eyes - this little human, so small and frail compared to the likes of him, had decided to stay by his side for the night in order to talk to him.

“I don’t think I’ve met you before!” you had said. “My name is….”

The next night, he expected to be alone once again. Only himself and the gargoyles to keep him company. However, his expectations were, once again, shattered.

There you sat, in the same place he had met you the previous night, but this time, you held a dainty flower crown in your hands. 

“These purple hyacinths would look so pretty on you! Look, I made it special; it’ll fit around your horns!”

He could remember the way his heart squeezed at the sight - this little, fragile human, who was not only unafraid of him, unlike the other students, had not only returned to his company, but had brought such a sweet gift for him? He was….touched.

He could remember how over the next few days, the two of you met up more and more. You talked with him. Openly, and around the other students. You didn’t mind the weird looks you got. The weird student who talked to the terrifying Malleus Draconia. When was the last time someone outside of Diasomnia had done that? 

He could remember the way his heart longed for you when you weren’t by his side. The way he couldn’t wait to talk to you again, hear your sweet, musical laugh, or see your bright, almost blinding smile. 

Lilia had taken it upon himself to start teasing him, saying he had a crush, or that he was “pining” for you. He didn’t understand what Lilia had meant, at least, not then. Was it a crush? Was he pining? Was he just grateful to have a friend?

As the days continued on he realized that what he has was, in fact, a crush. That it was this thing that Lilia had referred to as “pining”.

He could remember the way he longed for you - how he longed to see you and be around you. The way he wanted to hold your hand while he told you about his “Gao-Gao Dragon-Kun”. The way he wanted to hear about you and your life. The way he wanted to have you stay as a part of his life, his newest friend, but how he also wanted you to be more than just a friend. 

He could remember the exact moment when it felt like the world stopped. The moment he realized he was in love with you.

To others - and himself - Lilia Vanrouge did not seem like the type to have a crush on, let alone pine for, anyone.

The only problem with that was, well, Lilia had never met anyone like you before.

The first time Lilia ran into you, it was actually the other way around. You ran into him.

It had been a loud thud - you weren’t looking and he hadn’t been expecting it. He had previously been hanging upside down, planning on finding something to do in order to mess with Sebek, so the sight of a little human running into him, certainly took him off guard.

He couldn’t help but find it cute - the way your cheeks flamed red and you stuttered out an apology, who wouldn’t find it cute? 

He watched with glee as you ran away embarrassed. He thought that would have been the last time he’d see you; the last he’d hear of that cute little human.But fate seemed to have something different in mind for this old soul.

A couple nights had passed and before he knew it, he caught a glimpse of your form heading back to your dorm, splitting away from the two troublemaking first years from Heartslabyul, and walking away on your own.

Being the polite man he was, Lilia casually walked up to you, offering to walk you home. Not wanting to resist such a kind offer, you accepted, and the two of you began walking back to your dorm together. 

The more you talked to him, the cuter he found you. The way your lips quirked into a smile and your eyes held so much light, he couldn’t help but find you absolutely adorable. 

The more you talked and told him about yourself, the more he wanted to talk to you again. 

After dropping you off in his dorm and returning to his own, Lilia had yet to wipe the gleeful smile off his face. Unluckily for him, Silver was very quick to pick up on it. 

“What are you smiling for, old man? What trouble did you stir up now?”

“Trouble? Fufufu~ What are you talking about, Silver?”

The young man sighed and walked away, leaving Lilia on his own to think. Was he...really smiling over simply walking you back?

Over the next few days, he found his gaze wandering over to you more and more often. He found entertainment in the way you fooled around with the braincell duo you seemed to spend most of your time with. He found entertainment in the way you laughed so carelessly with them. He found entertainment in your sweet laugh. 

He found entertainment in the way you reacted when he popped up around you, and the kind words you had to spare for him. He found entertainment in your reactions to his teasing and jokes. He found the most entertainment, however, in the way he found himself longing for your presence when you weren’t beside him. 

He missed you when you weren’t next to him. It was a weird feeling - a feeling he never thought he’d have toward a human - longing.

It didn’t take him long to figure out what was going on; he was able to decipher the reasoning behind the storm raging within his chest.

Lilia was no idiot. Not by a long shot. He had been around humans long enough to know he had developed a “crush” on you, and that his desire to be around you was “pining”.

While he may have been able to understand his feelings, he wasn't able to figure out what he should do next. 

For the time being, he decided he would continue to long for you from afar.

Just until he was confident he would be able to swoop in and steal your heart in return.

Silver’s uncanny ability to fall asleep at any moment was a bit of an exasperation for those around him. He just so happened to be asleep once again on the day you two met.

You were running through the courtyard - not the best decision on your part - when you tripped over a log. Or...was it a log?

After picking yourself up from off the ground, you realized it was, in fact, not a log you had tripped over, but a very sleepy young man. 

Frantic apologies spilled past your lips as you asked if he was okay, but with a simple hand movement he waved away all of your questions.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

A beat had passed in silence; the guilt was eating you up inside with every second you were beside him.

Due to his desire to want to be the best knight he could, Silver warmly offered to walk you to your next class, and away the two of you went. You struck up casual conversation and before he knew it your beautiful laugh was ringing through the halls, resounding in his ears, and reverberating in his heart. 

He thought walking you to your class would be the end of it. Never mind the whispers of your voice in his ears or the imprint of your smile in his brain. 

However, much to his surprise, you brought him a bento the very next day. You apologized once again for running into him while he was asleep, and causing him to subsequently go through the trouble of walking you to class.

The assurances he was ready to offer died on his tongue as he opened the lunch. Snug inside one of the compartments lay a small helping of some delicious mushroom risotto. 

He was confused, to say the least. How did you know this was his favorite food? Was it a lucky guess? Or did you ask Lilia or Sebek?

Before he got the chance to ask you, you bid him a sweet farewell before skipping off to your friends who were waiting for you. He looked down at the lunch, and he smiled.

For the following few days, he seemed to run into you everywhere. He’d catch sight of your back as you traversed through the halls, see a glimpse of your hair through the waves of students.

The thing that did the most damage to his heart, however, was the way you went out of your way for him. Every class you two had together, you’d greet him with a pleasant “hi!”. Every morning at breakfast and every night at lunch, you’d wave to him as you walked past. 

Every little sighting of you made his heart beat faster and faster.

He noticed he felt less sleepy when you were around. He felt more awake than ever, actually. He perked up at just the thought of you, or the idea that you may be around.

However, despite any attempts to be subtle on his part, it did not go unnoticed.

Lilia was quick to pick up on this massive shift in Silver.

“I’m surprised at this extraordinary change in you, Silver,” he would say. But Silver would pay him no mind - he didn’t feel like explaining the intricacies of his heart to his old man.

The longer time went on, and the more he met up with you to talk, or even to do homework together, the more his heart longed for you.

He didn’t know how he was able to handle it. The mere thought of you was enough to dye his ears all shades of pink. 

Was he….was he in love with you?

Eventually, Silver realized that must be the only answer - that he was utterly and hopelessly in love with you.

The more the days passed by, the more he wanted to confess to you; to tell you how he felt.

Would it really be okay for him to do so? “Well,” he thought, as he straightened his cap. “I suppose I’ll have to find out.”

Sebek’s first meeting with you really wasn’t anything special. 

The first time he had seen you, you had bumped into Malleus in the hallway. It was a complete accident, but Sebek didn’t see it that way.

The only thing keeping him from chewing you out right then and there in front of everyone was the presence of the Young Master. 

He couldn’t stop fuming as the day went on. “Who do they think they are, bumping into the Young Master like that.” 

Any spectators would have to admit that the second meeting went better than the first.

Upon seeing you for the second time, Sebek’s anger fueled rant (as he had not forgotten about the first meeting) quickly dissolved into simply just a Malleus rant.

When his speech finally came to a close, he was a bit embarrassed for having spoken so long about his dear young master.

But he was not sorry - no, not in the slightest. Why would he apologize for speaking so vehemently about his lovely young master? You should be grateful for being blessed with stories of his greatness. 

Sebek could vividly remember the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you that night. You hadn’t been annoyed while listening, while others often were. You had been patient, kind, and attentive to what he had been saying. 

What Sebek didn’t realize, however, was the shade of pink his ears were slowly turning.

This little blush didn’t go unnoticed by Lilia, who quickly picked up on it in order to tease the young man. 

Almost certain that Sebek was suffering from a crush, he crept up behind him before saying, “Sebek, are you aware that the more you think about someone you’re crushing on, the more they’ll think about you in return?” 

“R-really?” Sebek sputtered for a second before attempting to regain his composure. “It’s asinine that you would even begin to presume that I would have a crush on anyone. I am wholly devoted to serving the young master. I thought you knew that by now?”

“Fufufu. I wasn’t implying anything.~~ Just wanted to let you know.~~”

The more Sebek thought about you, and that night, the more his desire to speak to you again grew. 

Whenever he saw you out in the halls, his heart skipped a beat. It almost stopped completely when you raised your hand and waved to him, a pretty little smile dancing across your lips.

He remembered the way he held his breath when you skipped over to him at lunch. He remembers the feeling of his pulse quickening when you sat down beside him. He remembers the blood pounding in his ears when you turned to him, smiling, and asked him, “How’s the Young Master?”

Sebek had never taken interest in someone like you before. You listened to him talk, not even minding too much when he got a bit loud, and you showed interest in both Malleus... and Sebek himself. 

He was starstruck, and couldn't help but think of you what seemed like every few minutes. It seemed to him that no matter what he was doing, his thoughts somehow wandered to you.

Did you think he looked cool during p.e. class? Did you see the way he answered Crewel’s question perfectly? Do you think about him as much as he thinks about you?

He eventually realized that he did, in fact, have a rather large crush on you. 

This realization hit him like the Adeuce combo on a flying broomstick. What was he supposed to do now?

He couldn’t stop thinking of you, and he hated it. He was meant to be devoted to Malleus, yet here he was thinking about some mere human.

The crush continued to persist, despite Sebek’s half-hearted wishes for it to go away. 

The more he thought about you the more he realized he wanted to be more than friends with you.

Until the day he could confess, Sebek would continue to straighten himself up, fix his uniform, and proudly march over to (loudly) talk to you once again.

[dionnaea]

Could you possibly write Mikasa x fem reader? I absolutely love that women. Also just wanted to add that your writing is amazing <3

Only Fools Fall in Love | Mikasa x Reader

pairing: mikasa ackerman x reader

warnings: hanahaki disease, angst, character death

wc: 1.9k

a/n: this turned very sad. i am sorry. (and thank you!!)

flower key: columbine: foolishness; arborvitae: unchanging friendship; heliotrope: eternal love, devotion; pink camellia: longing; carnation: women, love; yellow hyacinth: jealousy

attack on titan masterlist | general masterlist

You didn’t know how it had come to this. How a small crush had turned into an infatuation had turned into love. How you had managed to get yourself into this ongoing situation, and how you were ever going to get yourself out of it. 

But now, trapped between the forest floor and a beautiful woman, you weren’t concerned about any of that. All you had on your mind was the sensation of Mikasa’s soft lips on yours and the desire to touch her further. 

You had already been out here for at least thirty minutes, and it was well past midnight at this point, but you didn’t care. So when Mikasa began to pull away, you placed a hand in her hair and tried to bring her right back in. To both your disappointment and expectation, Mikasa sat up anyways, her thighs trapping your own between them. It wasn’t surprising that she was the one to end things. She always was. 

“I…” She looked away, not willing to face the emotion in your eyes. “I can’t do this anymore.” Words escaped you, and you simply stared until she spoke again, shattering your heart with one short sentence. “It’s over.”

You were silent, knowing that this had been coming for quite some time. You had expected it, even wondered if it would happen tonight, but that didn’t keep the pain from hurting any less. You didn’t want to, God, you didn’t want to, but you forced yourself to accept that this was the end as she reached a hand down to help you up. You did your best to ignore the way her hand felt in yours, the way her warmth seeped into you and blocked out the chill of the night air. As she began to walk towards base, you stayed frozen, dreading what was about to happen. 

Mikasa glanced back for a moment, but seeing your face, she turned her head quickly and continued down the path. You knew she knew. She was well aware you had the disease, and she knew she was the cause of it. So why did she keep coming back? But then again, you asked yourself the same thing. 

As soon as Mikasa was out of sight, you dropped to your knees, coughs rippling up from your chest. You felt the petals before they left your mouth, and when they fell to the brown dirt, a part of you wanted to laugh at how pretty they looked. Columbine, marking your foolishness with purple and white. Yellow Hyacinth, reminding you of your jealousy. And pink Camellia, the one that hurt the most as it travelled up your windpipe, teasing you for the longing you so deeply felt. 

Tonight, though, you noticed another color, sprayed along the petals in droplets. Red, the color that told of your demise. You knew it had gotten worse, you could feel the roots implanting themselves in your lungs for weeks, but you didn’t expect this. You stopped and stared, holding your breath and watching as blood fell from your lips and seeped into the dirt. There was no one else to blame but yourself.

You hadn’t tried to be so obvious, but everyone was well aware of your crush on Mikasa, including the girl herself. For the most part, she kept her distance from you, attempting to be polite in her own way and let you down easily. So when she asked you to meet her behind the dining hall after curfew one night, you didn’t know what to think. 

You approached slowly, hesitantly, nervous for what Mikasa would say to you. Turning the corner, your eyes widened in shock. Mikasa was bent over, something pouring out of her mouth as she choked. Petals, you realized as you stepped closer. Petals of Arborvitae and Heliotrope flooded out of her mouth and fluttered down to the ground. 

You rushed to her side, calling out her name in a panic. Her body shook, and when she finally stopped coughing, she looked up at you with wet, desperate eyes. It was disturbing, seeing Mikasa, the strongest woman and fighter you knew, in such a pitiful state. She forced herself to stand up right, hands still trembling, and as she spoke, her voice was strained and raw.

“I need your help.” 

Easily, you agreed, knowing you would do anything for her. But as she said her next words, you froze. 

“I’m in love with Eren, and I need to be in love with you.” 

“What?” You recoiled, stepping away from her, confliction stirring in your stomach. The word love mocked you. “I… What?” 

Just as it was clear you had a crush on Mikasa, it was clear that she had a crush on Eren. She followed him around like a lost puppy, meeting his every need without concern for her own wellbeing. At first, you just felt annoyed at their interactions like pretty much every other soldier who witnessed Mikasa’s lovesick stare, but soon, that annoyance turned to jealousy, even a slight anger at Eren for not appreciating what he had rested in your mind. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you shook your head, searching Mikasa’s eyes as you tried to figure out just what she was thinking. Like always, though, she was unreadable, steel grey glassy from tears but just as unrelenting. “Mikasa, I don’t understand. Of course I want to help you, but… Just, can you please explain?” 

She bit her lip, a nervous habit she had never revealed before. For a moment, you got lost in the way the skin turned from pink to red. “I’m… I’m dying. I can feel it getting worse every day, I can feel the roots and thorns piercing my lungs.” It took every ounce of strength you had to not reach out and hug her right then, instead letting her keep talking until she was done. “And Eren…” She ran a hand through her hair, gripping the strands as if to choke them out. “Well, everyone knows Eren’s not in love with me, and I know that he never will be. He doesn’t even realize that I see him as more than family.” 

She was right. Eren had always made it apparent that she was like a sister to him, usually introducing her as such to new recruits. After about the third time it happened, you had taken note of how Mikasa’s hands had clenched into fists, the only indication that it bothered her at all. There was something that always pained you about watching it occur, though, like you knew Mikasa herself was hurting, too. 

She paused to see what you would say, but your thoughts were moving too fast to actually process anything. “Um, I still don’t understand, really.” You could tell she was getting frustrated that you weren’t following, and you worried that she would take it all back if you said the wrong thing. 

“Look.” Her hand dropped from her hair as she took a deep breath in, gathering her patience as best she could. “I know you like me, Y/N. And, I think I could like you, too, with time.” Your heart stopped. “You’re pretty, smart, and talented in the field, and I really can’t find anything wrong with you.” It was blunt and lacked any sense of romanticism, but it was Mikasa saying this, so your face bloomed with heat anyways. “I think… No, I believe that you could cure me. We just need to fall in love.” 

In the moment, you didn’t really see a downside. It seemed easy enough, and you’d get to be with Mikasa which was exactly what you had been craving for months now. But what you forgot, and ultimately what turned into your fatal flaw, is that love is never easy. 

Blinded by your rose-colored glasses, you agreed without hesitation, sending you to your doom with complete confidence. 

Once she heard the ‘yes’ slip out of your mouth, Mikasa’s lips were on yours. It was awkward and clumsy, and when she pulled away, her expression was bashful, a bit embarrassed. You were sure you looked the same. 

“Sorry,” she muttered. “That was my first kiss.” 

“Mine, too,” you confessed. 

It was bittersweet sharing your first kiss with Mikasa for you knew she had kissed you for a different reason than why you kissed her back. It was to prove something to herself, to force herself to jump into this so-called solution and not look back, and even though you knew that was the truth, your lovesick heart managed to convince you otherwise.

From that night on, Mikasa and you met in secret almost every night, discovering small clearings in the forest or simply sneaking into the other’s bed once the other girls were asleep. It was a dangerous game, but it was one you were happy to play. Sometimes, you even felt like you were winning. 

But on the nights that you lied in bed alone, your mind wondered if you had made the right choice. Sure, after a month or two, you noticed that Mikasa looked at Eren less and spent more time with other people, seemingly enjoying herself, but that time was never spent with you. Instead, even as you and Mikasa became closer in private, her public persona around you never changed. You were still the crushing girl staring longingly across the dining hall and never getting a glance back. Mikasa tried to tell you that she thought keeping it a secret made it more special, but you knew it was a lie. You could tell from how her eyes darted away when you whispered sweet things and how she always crawled out of bed first, preferring to be warmed by her sheets rather than you. 

Nothing brought you back to reality more, though, than when you accidentally said ‘I love you.’ It had been a couple of months since you had started this arrangement with Mikasa, and things had seemed to be going well for the most part. She appeared happy when she was with you, and that night she had brought you a carnation that she found on her trip off base. As she tucked it behind your ear with a small smile and found your eyes with her own, the words had slipped out before you could stop them. 

Even the crickets seemed to be silent as Mikasa stared at you. Her lips had parted in surprise, and her hand was stuck midair, on its way back to her side from your hair. 

You scrambled to fix the situation. “Uh, um, I don’t know why I said that.” But as you spoke the words, you knew it was a lie. You knew exactly why you told her you loved her, and it was because you did. Wholeheartedly, unabashedly, and without fear of the consequences. But now, seeing her struggle to find an acceptable expression to wear and response to speak, you wished you could take it back, swallow the words from the air and never speak them again. 

“Y/N…” She wouldn’t meet your gaze, and you suddenly began to hate yourself. 

“It’s fine,” you decided, choosing to lie to both you and her in hopes of protecting your fragile reality. “Just… just kiss me again.” 

And she did, and you kissed back. But once you were through, and Mikasa took her leave, you found yourself starting to choke, air unable to enter your lungs. In a desperate attempt to empty your chest of whatever had infected it, you coughed.

And Columbine fell to the floor. 

[sw124]

BonelyHearts Reader Insert5

{Female!ReaderXSkeleton household}

Camping! Pt.4

You woke to the sound of the local song birds, you could tell what some of them were but not all of them. Most prominent were the Morning Doves, they were the loudest other then the Chickadees. Blinked and could just make out the sun through your tent, you slowly sat up.

........

Around you was a group of skeletons, Russ by your feet, Blue by your left hip and Papyrus was curled in a awkward position on your right side. What in the world made them sneak into your tent...oh well it was too early to care. You slowly got up, maneuvering so you didn’t wake them, slipped on your shoes and unzipped the front of your tent. You stepped out and zipped it partly back up, you turned....and was greeted with such a beautiful sight.

The hills were bathed with clouds of silver mist, all suspended a little off the ground while others rolled up into the sky. The mist over the lake was just as beautiful, the sun was just rising. The silver instantly turned to gold with in a flash, the air was cold but just perfect. You felt little pin-prickles in your nose when you inhaled, you didn’t care though; it was all apart of the charm of the season.

You stretched out your arms to the side before straight up, you could feel your muscles tighten as you stretched before relaxing. You gave a small yawn before making your way to the communal showers, you needed the rest room. Once that was taken care of you walked back to the camp, you went to the kitchen tent and prepared some morning coco and some coffee. You could use a cup of coffee yourself, you had just finished making the last cup when you heard the tent zippers.

It was Russ, holding on to his pillow. He was swaying on his feet, poor thing still looked half asleep. You smiled and walked over to him, gently holding his arms to steady him. He muttered a thank you before shuffling to his chair, you took the pillow from him and place it back in the tent. By this time Papyrus and Blue were starting to wake up.

“Morning boys, I just made some fresh coco.”

Blue gave a yawn and smiled, eyes still closed. He waved to you, Papyrus was slowly sitting up as well. They were so cute, almost like kittens or puppies waking up from a nap. You left the tent flap open and check on the rest of the skeletons, Boss, Nox, and Poplar were just beginning to wake up. In the other tent Sans, Ash, Stretch and Red were still fast asleep; you found it best not to wake them up.

You decided to start breakfast, you planned a nice and simple dish of scrambled eggs with veggies and cheese. You also had some fresh fruit cut up as a little side dish, when it came to cooking for these boys you never messed around, you had just started heating up the pan when Papyrus walked over.

“Human let me do that, Boss an I had already voted on us making breakfast.” Pap gently took the pan from you.

“You sure on that, I don’t mind really.”

But it was no use arguing especially when Boss lead you back to your seat and made you sit down.

“You cooked dinner and dessert last night, you sit and enjoy the morning.”

Yeah you really couldn’t argue with Boss, especially with both of his hands planted on your shoulders; encouraging you to sit down. If that wasn’t enough, he threw a blanket over your lap and put your mug of coco back in your hands…he even tucked you into the blanket. He wasn’t messing around….

Well now you couldn’t move from your spot, you were too comfortable. You gave a small sigh, sipped your coco and just enjoyed the morning air. Russ had moved his chair next to you, he still looked half asleep. You smiled, reaching over you rubbed his shoulder; electing an adorable kitten -purr from him. You paused and turned to see the other skeletons staring to shamble out of their tents.

You smiled at them as they took their seats, you decided to go over the day’s plan. Today was the ‘Leisure’ group outing; the group had Ash, Stretch, Russ, Sans and lastly Red. The activities were the ‘Trail of Colors’ and the ‘Bridge Trail’ for starters, you pulled out the Pamphlet and examined it. You also saw the paddle boat ride but recalling how long it took you to do the Waterfall trail and the canoeing you’d probably wanted to wait an see what would happen after the hikes.

You were so wrapped up in the pamphlet you didn’t notice Sans leaning over your shoulder..well you noticed after he rested his head right on your shoulder.

“So whats the agenda today?”

“Well since its the ‘Leisure’ group today we’re doing a few trails and if we have time maybe a little boat ride, again only if we have time. The first trail we’re doing is the ‘Bridge Trail’; that one will take us into the ‘Trail of Colors’ which will lead us right back to the campsite. If all goes well it should only be an hour.” You set the pamphlet down.

Pap pulled Sans off your shoulder, scolding him saying it was rude to rest his head on your shoulder. You give Pap a little wave saying it was no problem, before you could say anything Boss gingerly placed a plate of food before you. Scrambled eggs with diced veggies and some of the leftover Parmesan cheese dusted on top of it, you wiggled with excitement and thanked him.

“No need to thank perfection human.” Was it your imagination or did Boss purr that statement.

You stifled another giggle before you started to eat, everyone was up and enjoying their breakfasts. Again you told everyone the agenda, no one seemed to object to this idea honestly. You reminded everyone in the ‘Leisure’ group to wear proper shoes, slippers don’t count. Sans gave his usual broad smile.

“You afraid one of us might ‘slipper’ up or something?”

“Sans!”

Pap went at Sans for his puns, of course egging him on to do more but you immediately spoke up.

“Sans I’m serious, your gonna hurt your feet if you don’t wear the proper shoes for this walk. The one thing I’m super concerned with is everyone’s safety on these hikes, no matter how trivial they might be.”

Sans raises his hands in surrender. “Easy there, I’m not gonna go walking around in slippers…accept around here.”

Well now you felt bad, you should have known he was joking but you still worry about them. You recalled the first time you went hiking and wore the wrong kind of shoes….for a week it felt like you were walking on nothing but bruises. You just didn’t want that for the other skeletons…

[After breakfast]

It was a tad colder today but nothing to bad, it was mostly the wind that made it chillier. You put on a windbreaker today, you never noticed but almost all the lazy-bone skeletons always wore a hoodie or jacket…in-fact almost all of them minus Poplar wore some kind of jacket. Ash was talking to his brother, it was so sweet to see the two of them dote on each other.

You went the kitchen tent and packed up bottles of water and some snacks just in case, knowing these lazy boys they’d want to have something to munch on. Before you left you went to the skeletons who were staying behind and asked them if they were ok staying behind.

“Of course human, don’t worry about us. A day like yesterday was quite invigorating but also left us a bit tired, we’ll relax a bit.” Said Poplar patting your hand, geez again that smile of his should be outlawed.

Blue and Pap agreed with Poplar, Boss waved a dismissive hand at you, Nox was lecturing Russ about something but you couldn’t tell what. All Russ did was nod, you were pretty sure it was a lecture on safety. Again you couldn’t tell cause by the time you got there Nox was already walking back towards the others. Russ seemed a bit…tired? Annoyed? You couldn’t be sure so you decided not to ask.

“Ok guys, everyone ready?”

“Yup.” Said Stretch.

You turned to the others, Ash still was looking back at Poplar; slightly shifting his weight from foot to foot. He jumped a little when you took his hand…his cheek bones grew a rather lovely hint of hyacinth.

“He’ll be ok Ash, he’s with Boss an the others. He’ll be just fine, come on; enjoy yourself.”

Gingerly you pulled him forward, he gave very little resistance…in fact he softly squeezed your hand, you were sure he wasn’t gonna want to let go. Not that you minded, it wouldn’t be the first time one of the skeletons held your hand. More often then not it was usually Poplar, Papyrus or Blue that held your hands. Ash sometimes but that was for situations where he was…nervous or if Poplar wasn’t there.

Well you finally had everything so you motioned the group to start walking, both trails were pretty much all flattened dirt paths unlike the ones you hiked yesterday. There was maybe one or two hills but nothing strenuous, it was perhaps ten minutes before you came to the first bridge.

There was a little plaque by it with some history and the name of this particular bridge.

“The ‘Music Bridge’ was named that way for unique creaking sounds it makes when stepped on. The bridge was constructed in 1909 by a Mr. Domen who designed and built the bridge specifically for children to enjoy along with those who were young at heart.” You read aloud.

“Huh….lets test it out.” Said Stretch.

The moment he stepped on the bridge there was high pitched squeak, almost like a mouse or bat. After that no one hesitated to run on to the bridge and make the worst cacophony of noises. Sans found a few particular boards that sounded like his Whoopie-cushions. Russ and Stretch found one that sounded like ducks quacking, Red was getting annoyed cause he was attempting to play “Heart an Soul” on the boards but everyone kept getting in his way. You and Ash were just having fun rocking on two particular boards, sort of in an ‘up,down’ style.

Once that was done you moved on, you were still having a bit of a giggle fit when you came to the next bridge. Nothing special about it so you simply walked it. The next bridge however was a bit more interesting, this bridge was completely made out of round cobble stones. Around the stones were carved flowers and even stone benches.

You and Ash walked up to the plaque, this time Ash read it allowed.

“The ‘Maiden Bridge’ was constructed in 1867 for local women to come and have a reprieve from large gatherings held nearby. It was often improper for men to stay on the bridge unless they were family or the spouse of said maiden. A common tradition for single women walking the bridge is to close her eyes and walk the length of the bridge while holding a flower, should she were to fall over into the water or drop the flower she’d be a spinster for her entire life but if succeeds she’d be blessed with only the best suitors.” Ash finished an gave you a side glance, you gave a playful wave, no you weren’t gonna try it.

“You gonna try it sweetheart?” Asked Red.

“No for two reasons, one, I don’t wanna fall over and two there aren’t any flowers around for me to hold.” Though you did like the idea of the tradition.

Everyone took a moment to appreciate the river below them, the water wasn’t deep. At most if you had to guess if you were to wade through it the water would come up just shy of your midsection or just under your bust line. You saw Russ toss a few stray rocks into the river, Sans watched. After a few minutes you motioned everyone to keep walking, the next couple of bridge were covered bridges.

Almost like elongated barns, one of them was so long it had a slight echo to it. The last bridge was just a run of the mill arched wooden bridge with iron supports, there wasn’t a plaque or anything but it was still nice to lean over the railings to watch the river flow by. There were some benches on the bridge too, you told the boys to sit an rest as you passed out the snacks and water.

After your small break you went back to walking and holding Ash’s hand…accept now your other hand was now taken, Russ having claimed it now. You didn’t mind, it was rather endearing and besides it wouldn’t be the first time. The next trail was the ‘Trail of Colors’ an it certainly lived up to its name. The entrance of the trail had two maple tree’s on both sides almost like sentinels. Their leaves the most perfect shade of crimson, just about the color a lit-matchstick.

Passed the crimson sentinels you were awash in autumns truest beauty, leaves of so many different trees painted with such luscious colors. Different shades of orange and yellows, crimson shades, even a few species of tree’s whose leaves were almost black..or perhaps purple. Regardless everything was just awash in pure beauty, you slowed your steps to be sure to appreciate everything.

A few times stopping to let Ash admire a tree or two, mostly the maples and aspens. You watching the two of them walk around one of the tree’s, Russ even reaching up to pull a branch down when you felt something tickle the top of your head. You ducked down thinking it was a bug or something…only to see it was a long piece of Reed grass…with Stretch holding the other end.

“Haha funny Stretch.” He smiled at you and handed the piece of long grass to you.

Oh why the heck not, you repeated the same thing on Red…who yelled out a curse and swatted the piece of grass away. When he saw it was you he took the grass and flung it into the woods….

Well there went your bit of fun.

You sighed, you an the boys continued walking and little before anyone knew it the trial had lead you back out to the campsite. You checked your watch…as you thought it took longer then you expected, the walk took you two hours instead of one but hey it wasn’t too bad an you had time for that little boat ride. Ok paddle boat ride, you hurry the lazy boys over to the rental kiosk and rent three boats. They weren’t the swan boat kind but regardless.

“Ok we got three bots so thats a boat for two people each, pick your partners and lets paddle around the lake!”

This was going to be fun…until you realize the boys were looking at you…

“Oh don’t tell me you want me to choose a partner…” you groaned.

“If ya don’t mind choosing one pairs for each of us.” Said Russ almost sheepishly.

You sigh and look at each skeleton…yes you knew how to pair this.

“Alright, Sans you and Russ get the yellow boat, Stretch you and Red get the white boat and lastly Ash an I get the green boat. Ok that’s done, no arguing lets go!” You had to shut down any protests Red would have, besides he got along well with Stretch…an if you paired him with Russ or Sans it’d end in disaster.

You all shuffled into the little boats, the bicycle peddles on the bottom of the boat had straps so your feet wouldn’t slip off them and a cute little wheel to turn the boat, it almost felt like a go-cart or bumper car. Once you an Ash secured your feet you began peddling. It was slightly hard to get started but once you got the momentum going it was smooth sailing from there.

The six of you wander around the lake in your little paddle boats, once in a while letting yourselves glide on the lake surface. You heard Russ call out his brothers name and wave, yes you could see your campsite and the others. They all waved back at Russ and even at you, you smile returned a wave.

After about another couple of hours you heard a bell, that meant all boats had to come back in. You sighed, you kinda wanted to stay out on the lake longer; oh well it was close to lunchtime anyway according to your watch. As you peddled…you heard something, it sounded like an engine or something-

[VWOOOOOOSH!!!!]

Just barely missing you was a speed boat, it rocked your own and caused a wave leap over the side and completely soak you! Ash was spared from the wave but sadly you weren’t. The wave covered you from head to toe; not a single part of you was dry, not to mention the water was nothing but pure ice; temperature wise. You stiffened and curled up, yeah it was just water but it was super cold, it almost hurt!

“H-Hey you ok?!” Ash reached out and touched your arm, you were shaking an the wind wasn’t doing you any favors.

“Hang on we’re almost to the dock…” he took over paddling for you.

You curled up tight, hunched over yourself. Oh geez you were cold, you managed to look up…to your surprise Red, Sans, Russ and Stretch all were at the dock. Having see what happened they were waiting at the ready to pull you out of that damn boat…an that they did. Ash angled the boat so you were directly by the dock. Stretch and Russ took hold of an arm and pulled you right out, Sans and Red helped Ash.

“C-c-c-cold….” You stammered.

“Easy now w-we got you.” Russ was drying your face with his sleeve.

“What the f**k was that anyway?!” Red barked, rhetorically.

“Don’t matter lets just get her back to camp before she gets hypothermia.” Said Sans, his tone was void of any humor.

The five of them came around you and in a blink you were back at the campsite…greeted with a roar of disbelief.

“What in blazes happened?!”

You felt Nox hand on your arm pulling you away from the group, squawking in shocked confusion at your soaked state. Papyrus and Boss hurried you by the fire to try an warm you, also trying their best to shield you from the wind. Blue wrapped a towel over your head. Poplar tried grab a blanket but, given his condition he couldn’t move as quickly.

“Some assholes in a boat almost ran into them, they missed but didn’t mean they didn’t splash them.” Said Red.

Once you were warm enough to at least move you went to your tent, Boss and Papyrus escorted you mostly to keep the wind off you. You crawled in and zipped up the flap, you waisted no time getting undressed and into some dry clothes. It took you a few minutes but you were now in dry clothes and your body was finally warming up. Your shoes were however soaked…as much as you didn’t want to..you put on a pair of slippers and walked out with your wet clothes in hand.

It was sweet of the boys to set up a makeshift clothesline by the fire to help dry your clothes.

This wasn’t what you expected….an now you were worried about what was going to come next…

To be continued…

[This is based on the Bonelyhearts game if you want to know more please see the official tumblr site @bonelyheartsclub ; an for those reading there’s more to this, I’m gonna add just a bit more drama but no emotional drama. What kind you ask? ….Well your gonna have to wait and see. Speaking of waiting sorry for this being late, new games came out and got me super distracted but here you go please enjoy]

[liang-rexy]

(AU stuff. Characters are OOC. 😂)

I am posting the drawings I created during Dannymay (FINALLY! ). (There is English translation of the dialogue below. 😂)

Sam: Danny, there are numerous ghostly fish outside! We are going fish-watching!

Tucker: Our equipments are ready!

Danny (thinks): (I) want to sleep.

Sam: Alright, let's go!

(I tried to translate the dialogue. I personally don't think it's the best translation I can do. I was busy and tired last month, and didn't want to do the translation and didn't post these. If you have advice on translating, please tell me about it. 😊)

They are going fish-watching (It's like bird-watching, but you will watch ghostly fish instead. I have to create this weird word in order to translate. ). There are shoals of ghostly fishes migrating, and it's a great time to have a close look at them. Also, to see those creatures clearly, a special equipment is required. 😄😄😄Those fish (fishes) (there are a few species actually) have names, and I might give them some names later. I will probably design the creatures, too. 🤔

The fifteenth prompt was "Favorite AU" (I usually use "favourite", but whatever), and I really love one of my own AUs, the one with a probably weird name, "Wings of the Ravens", of course. I have some screenshots that show parts of the drawing process (I have already posted a drawing video here! The video is a bit creepy. 😂), and I would love to share them with you. But Tumblr won't let me post those (long? they are "long" anyway) images, so I could only give you guys a link towards my post on Lofter:

Then, more drawings.

1. Eyes. Daniel yells.

I drew some concept sketches, but in the end I made sth different from these two sketches. I was too lazy to draw more than character or to find proper references of making a doll.

2. Flowers.

The design of the purple/blue plants (flowers) were inspired by hyacinth, but they are in fact fantasy creatures. The tree with blossoms is a creature I mentioned before (it's like an alternate version of Blood Blossom, but it's not really Blood Blossom).

(Some of the lines are messy. 😂) It isn't a very happy scene, but people can have their own opinions.

By the way I personally think many of my stuff is pretty serious. 🤔

I have finished my all of my final exams. 😂 My grades aren't as good as I expected. I was a bit angry but I am fine now. 😂😂😂 (I didn't failed any of my subjects anyway! 😉) Well, I suppose I can be a bit more active here this month. And I will try to post more art. It's not really convenient for me to post stuff. 😩 But I like sharing my works…

Rexy Leung's 54th original post.

于2020年7月7日发布。

[tripleaxeldiaz]

all was golden when the day met the night

chapter 5/5

read on ao3

start from the beginning

As the weekend wears on, Eddie feels more and more like himself. He chalks it up mostly to staying inside with Chris, Disney+, and takeout for two days straight, basking in the unbridled happiness that always seems to surround his son. He knows, though, that a big part of his feeling better is also because of Buck — he’s never had a catharsis like that with anyone, and he thanked Buck by essentially slamming the door in his face as soon as he tried to dig a little deeper. He wanted to help, Eddie wanted him to help, but it was too much and he was too raw, so he just shut down. Defaulted to being closed off as he usually was because it was safe and easy. But Buck is his best friend, one of the people he loves most, and he deserves someone who could be open and honest with him.

Eddie really wants to be that person.

He really needs to apologize.

He tries multiple times, writing and deleting texts, planning scripts in his head but never hitting the call button. The words keep getting jumbled and they don’t feel like enough, don’t feel like they’re fully expressing how much Eddie wants to tell Buck everything, wants to fully let him in, if Buck is still interested. If he’s not, Eddie’s really not sure what he’s going to do. 

He braces himself on Monday, but Buck doesn’t come in. He sees him through the window as he parks and all but falls out of his car, hurrying toward Armageddon. He stops at the front door of the shop, knocks, smiles, and waves, before hurrying off again.

It’s fine. It’s fine. He’s just running late.

He doesn’t see him at all Tuesday, but gets a selfie of a sad looking Buck wrapped in a blanket with a mug of tea and a message reading sinus infections suck ))):. He smiles as he tells him to feel better, and things almost feel normal. Maybe this is just how Buck wants to play it — pretend that Eddie didn’t have a complete breakdown and go back to how things used to be, to how they used to be, whatever that was. If that’s what’s going to make Buck happiest and keep him in Eddie’s life, that’s what Eddie will do. He’ll smash all his feelings back into a box and set it on fire if he has to. Whatever it takes to make sure Buck never leaves.

The door above the shop rings on Wednesday morning, but Eddie’s too absorbed in trying to balance the numbers of a recent wedding to notice. A shadow falls over his laptop, and when he looks up, he’s face to face with Buck, backlit in the golden glow of the early morning sunlight, looking like an angel even in his usual all black. Eddie feels his mouth go dry and his heartbeat pick up.

“You know,” Buck says, his smile easy as always, even if his shoulders look a little tense, “you’re pretty cute when you’re trying to do math.”

It’s a knee jerk reaction to roll his eyes and shake his head, and he smiles too as he sees Buck relax. “At least I know how to do math,” he fires back, laughing at Buck’s mock outrage. Just like that, they’re back in their old routine. 

“That’s what I have Maddie for. She’s the brains of the whole operation, and I’m the beauty.”

“What’s Chimney then?”

“He’s dead meat after he let my flowers die while I was gone for a day.”

Eddie snorts as he gets the craft paper. “Well, math might be hard, but replacing flowers is easy. Any requests?”

Buck just shrugs, smiling softly at Eddie now. “Whatever you’re feeling.”

Eddie’s been trying to figure that out for the past four days, but it’s so much easier when Buck asks him to do it with flowers. He wraps the bouquet and turns back to Buck, holding the flowers between them like a shield. 

Buck cocks his head, confused. Eddie clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “I’m really sorry about last week. You were just trying to help, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’ve got...a lot of stuff to sort through, and I didn’t want to put that burden on you.”

Buck’s smile gets softer still as he reaches out to hold Eddie’s wrist. “It’s okay, I get it. But I meant what I said — I’m here for you no matter what. However and whenever you need me.” He takes the bouquet from Eddie, holding it in the crook of his arm. “Are these apology flowers to match your apology speech?”

Eddie laughs, trying to ignore the embarrassed blush he feels growing on his cheeks. “I guess so. Yellow roses literally mean apology, purple hyacinth means asking for forgiveness, and red carnations—” mean something that you absolutely can’t tell him, he finishes in his head. He freezes for a second, scrambling for any other reason for including them, before lamely landing on— “They just looked nice.”

Luckily, Buck takes it, no questions asked. 

As he leaves, Eddie feels a weight go with him, feels more like himself than he has in days. Buck is still here. He saw Eddie at his lowest and it didn’t scare him off. And while that’s all well and good, it feels fragile and new, like something that could break the minute Eddie tries to make it more than friendship like he still so desperately wants. 

Instead, he resolves to ball his feelings back up in his chest, hiding them away like he’s done for months and months now. He promised himself he’d do whatever it takes to make sure Buck sticks around, and he meant it. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The sun is setting as he enters Armageddon, in a surprisingly good mood given everything that’s happened the past two weeks. He makes his way to the back, distracted by trying to figure out what to do with his weekend. Maybe they can go to the art museum Chris has been raving about, look at all the works that don’t make any sense to Eddie but can keep Chris enraptured for hours. Maybe Buck will come along to explain everything.

He’s distracted enough that he doesn’t register Buck and Chris’s conversation until he’s halfway to the table they’re sitting at in the back room. When he does finally tune in, he stops, just out of sight, and feels his whole body start to go numb.

“It says they mean ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Please forgive me’. Is that what Dad said they meant? Was he sorry about something?” Chris is reading from a school library book, the bouquet from earlier this week on the table between him and Buck. 

Buck looks at the flowers, smiling almost sadly, before turning back to Chris. “Yeah, that’s what he said too. We just got into an argument, but gave me these flowers, so it’s okay now.” He turns back to the flowers, fingers playing with a stray stem that had fallen off as they wilted. “What does it say about red carnations?”

Chris flips through the book, eventually landing on the page he was looking for. Eddie braces himself as quietly as he can, because he knows exactly what Chris is going to read. “There’s a lot of meanings for different colors, but it says that if you give someone red carnations, it means you love them and feel something special for them. What did Dad say?”

His sharp intake of breath is completely involuntary, fueled purely by panic. Both heads snap toward him immediately, Chris’s face lighting up, Buck’s looking stunned. He tries to keep his own face as normal as possible, but his eyes feel wild and he’s hot all over and he just needs to get Chris and get out.

“Dad! I got a book about flowers from the library so I can know what they mean just like you!”

He really hopes his smile is genuine, because as happy as he is that his son wants to be anything like him, he also feels about 15 seconds away from passing out. “That’s great, buddy. Can you grab your stuff so we can go?”

Chris hops off the chair to pack up, filling the would-be uncomfortable silence with his usual chatter about school, what he’s reading, and what he did with Buck all afternoon. Eddie very pointedly keeps his eyes on his son the whole time, nodding and commentating more than normal so he’s not tempted to look at Buck and completely fall apart. Chris hugs Buck tight around the middle before heading for the door, forcing Eddie to acknowledge Buck without any kind of buffer.

“Thanks for watching him, we’ll see you later, okay?” he says, looking at a spot just over Buck’s shoulder. He doesn’t wait for a response, just rushes out, following after Chris even as he hears Buck call his name.

Surely, Buck will just brush this off. He won’t think twice about why Eddie actually included the carnations and just move on. They’ll be fine, Eddie won’t lose him because of his loud, dumb feelings, and the whole thing will blow over by Monday. He repeats it in his head over and over, willing it to be true.

They’re through the front door and halfway down the sidewalk before Buck catches up with them.

“Eddie, wait!”

Apparently, his force of will is not as strong as he thought.

Eddie skids to a stop, letting Chris run ahead to the store. He closes his eyes and prepares himself, because this is it. The moment he had been trying to prevent for months. He’s off the edge of the cliff, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He takes a deep breath before he turns around.

Buck is watching him. He looks confused and a little worried, and Eddie’s palms itch to reach out and somehow make it better. He jams his hands into the pockets of his jeans instead.

“The carnations weren’t just for show, were they?” Buck asks, slowly, quietly, like he’s trying not to spook a caged animal. 

He could lie. He could tell him they didn’t mean anything, that they really just looked nice. He could deny it over and over, and he knows eventually Buck would give in and let it go. They’d go back to square one where they’ve been for so long that Eddie can see ruts forming in their routine.

He’s so tired, though. Tired of lying, tired of wrestling with his feelings and trying to keep them from cracking his ribs and breaking free. And Buck had already seen him lower than rock bottom, and he stayed. Maybe he would stay after this, too.

“No”, Eddie says, shaking his head. “They weren’t just for show. Neither were the gardenias or pink camellias or red tulips, none of them were. You can look them up if you don’t believe me.”

Buck freezes, eyes wide, still as Eddie has ever seen him. And for as much as Eddie is usually a coward, he decides this is the moment to be brave.

“I love you,” he says in a rush. “I’ve loved you for a while, and I didn’t know how to say it out loud, so I just gave you love in flowers instead. You’re everything, Buck, to me and to Chris, and I just didn’t want to lose you or scare you away because I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you left. We need you, in whatever way we can have you.”

He can feel himself shaking as he stops talking, face hot with a furious blush of embarrassment, he’s sure. He never stops looking at Buck though, waiting for him to say something, anything, even telling him to fuck off and never speak to him again would be better than silence. 

He waits, and Buck just looks at him with an expression he can’t decipher. He looks and looks, and with every passing second, Eddie feels the world crumbling down around him.

The numbness is back, this time laced with the sting of rejection. He takes a few steps backwards as he feels tears start to prick at the back of his eyes, turning toward the store before they’re too noticeable.

He stops when he feels Buck’s hand wrap around his wrist, holding him in place. “Eddie, please,” he says, sounding close to tears himself. “I— I don’t know what to say, I—”

Eddie pulls his wrist back, Buck letting go without a fight. “It’s fine, Buck. Just forget about it.”

He walks away, tears falling without shame. 

He half hopes Buck follows him. 

He doesn’t.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie is not hiding. He is strategically avoiding.

He tries to process everything over the weekend, but come Monday, he still can’t bring himself to face Buck, to have the talk where he tells Eddie that he just wants to be friends and nothing more. Because he’ll say that, but things won’t go back to normal. They’ll be awkward and stilted and they’ll drift farther and farther apart until they’re no longer in each other’s orbit, practically strangers. He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t know what he’d do with himself without Buck, and he really doesn’t want to try figuring that out now.

So Buck comes in every day like normal, and every day Eddie finds an excuse to busy himself in the back room and let Hen handle him. It only takes her two visits to catch on and pry every detail out of him.

“Eddie, I love you, but you’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met,” she tells him when he finishes his story.

“Thank you for kicking me when I’m down,” he says, voice muffled from where his head is pressed to the table. She grabs a hold of his wrist, tugging it until he sits up and gives her his attention.

“Look,” she says. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on in Buck’s head, but he looks about as heartbroken as you do, if not worse. You have to talk to him. If you love him like you say you do, you owe him that much, at the very least.”

She’s right, of course, but that doesn’t mean Eddie is happy about it. Nor does it mean he’s going to jump headfirst into talking about his feelings like he did the last time. He tried being brave, and look where that got him.

He’s still biding his time (and licking his wounds) when he comes back from a delivery a few days later to an eerily quiet store. It’s late afternoon, when they’re normally busy with people picking up bouquets for date nights on their way home from work, but he doesn’t hear any voices when he comes in the back door or see Hen running around with fistfuls of flowers. He walks to the front and stops dead before he can call out for anyone. 

Buck is there, once again lit up by the sunlight streaming through the windows, standing next to a vase holding the biggest bouquet Eddie thinks he’s ever seen. He looks nervous, biting his lip as he watches Eddie walk closer, no doubt waiting for a reaction. Eddie’s honestly dumbstruck, because not only is it huge, but he immediately registers the meaning behind each flower he sees.

Blue violets for devotion, forget-me-nots for true love, yarrow for everlasting love. Aster, red chrysanthemums, honeysuckle. Rainflowers asking for returned affection and jasmine for love without conditions. They’re all surrounded by moonflowers for dreaming of and hoping for love. The whole thing is an explosion of color and scents and emotions and it’s beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the man standing next to it.

“I didn’t know what to say last week,” Buck says quietly, gaze moving from the flowers to Eddie. There’s a blush crawling up his cheeks that rivals any rose or carnation. His smile unfurls like a lily in the summertime. “I figured I’d try speaking your language instead.”

Eddie turns to Buck fully, tries to say something, but the words get stuck in his throat as his mind tries to process the sheer amount of things he’s feeling. He has half a mind to pinch himself, make sure he’s not dreaming, but he knows he isn’t. This is better than anything in his wildest fantasies because it’s real.

He’s snapped back to the present moment when he feels Buck’s hands on his, slotting their fingers together. Eddie squeezes instinctually, holding on for dear life, because he feels like he’s about to crack again — not from despair this time, but from sheer, unfiltered joy. It only gets bigger when he looks at Buck and sees it reflected in his eyes, too.

“Eddie,” he says, a laugh bubbling out of him like the happiness is overwhelming. “I love you. I love you so much. I think I’ve loved you from the minute I ran into the store for the first time, and it’s been snowballing ever since.” He brings a hand up to Eddie’s cheek, wiping away tears he didn’t even know were falling. He leans into the touch, smile only growing because it’s warm and perfect, like he always knew it would be. “You said I was everything to you and Chris, but you two are more than everything to me. I want to be here, with you, for you, for as long as you’ll let me.”

And because he is who he is, because he’s been living with his parasitic self doubt for longer than anyone should, Eddie pauses. His mind flashes through all his shadows and darkness lingering under this momentary happiness, and while it’s overwhelming and good and true, he still doubts. 

“I’m a mess,” he says, feeling Buck tighten his hold like he’s afraid he’ll try to run. “You saw it up close. I can’t guarantee it won’t always be that bad. Are you sure you want to deal with all this?”

“I want everything with you, Eddie. Good, bad, and ugly. You can’t scare me away that easily. I won’t let you.”

For once, there’s no rebuttal. He knows Buck is telling the truth, feels it in every part of him. If he focuses enough, he swears he feels a little less darkness around him. But there’s so much going on in his head that he doesn’t know what to say anymore, can’t figure out how to express to Buck exactly what all of this means to him. 

He’s still not great at words, but he’s as good at actions as he is at flowers.

There’s no fireworks or angels singing when they kiss, and it takes a few tries for them to stop smiling enough for their teeth to get out of the way. But once they fall into a rhythm, Buck hands on Eddie’s hips, Eddie’s hands running through Bucks curls, the whole world falls away until it’s just them. It’s a slow, gentle thing, but Eddie pours everything he’s hiding into it, hoping that Buck picks up on how much and how deeply he loves him. If the smile he feels on Buck’s lips is any indication, he thinks the message is loud and clear.

They pull away eventually but only to rest their foreheads together, soaking up each other. Eddie’s still smiling as he leans in, placing kisses on whatever parts of Buck’s face he can reach, just because he can. He feels the rumble of Buck’s laugh in his own chest, and almost wants to cry again at the realization that he’s going to be able to feel that laugh whenever he wants, have it memorized and tucked away in his mind for when the darkness is too loud.

He always knew Buck had enough light in him for both of them. Now he gets to prove himself right.

He pulls back a little more, taking in every feature of Buck’s happiness, fingers coming up to gently trace over his birthmark.

“Does this mean I get free tattoos for life?” he asks. Buck’s laugh is sharp and surprised, and they dissolve into giggles and kisses and touches like they’re teenagers again.

Eddie knows that it won’t always be this perfect — things will be hard, they’ll be tested again and again, and sometimes things will feel too dark for either of them to bear. But the light will always come back, they’ll grow stronger, blossoming in ways they never could on their own.

Eddie has been hiding in the shadows for too long. Buck is finally bringing him into the sunshine.