#unsure whether i should tag the uhh... other person here...

[snakesinsocks2005]

Hey sister

[mxliv-oftheendless]

Black Dahlia (Chapter 5)

Hello, and welcome back to Black Dahlia! I’m particularly excited about this one, as it contains a scene that was really fun and heartwarming to write. But I’ll let you discover that for yourselves. ;) Enjoy!

The kids and Heather were luckily able to transport Shaggy and Scooby to the hospital building. Heather did find it a little suspicious that Delilah Domino didn’t come running the second she heard the screaming. And it couldn’t be because she was on the other side of the park and didn’t hear—Shaggy and Scooby were notoriously loud screamers.

As they waited for Shaggy and Scooby to wake up, the doors opened and KISS came into the room. “We heard what happened,” Spaceman said to them by way of an explanation. “Are they okay?”

“Well, they haven’t woken up yet,” Velma replied, gesturing to Shaggy and Scooby. They were lying on their beds, still passed out. “But they’re fine. Not hurt or anything.”

Heather looked pointedly at the band, raising her eyebrow. Once the gang had looked away from them, Starchild pressed a finger to his lips and winked at her.

After about another ten minutes of waiting, Daphne went over to their bedsides. “Poor Scooby and Shaggy,” she lamented. “They’re still out.”

Seemingly out of nowhere, the man in the green suit popped up behind her. “Pardon me. Chip McGhoo, KISS road manager, executive officer of merchandise.” He held up a bottle of smelling salts with the KISS label on them. “These KISS Smelling Salts work twice as fast, and they’re only $15.95.”

Daphne stared at him, then sighed and pulled out her wallet.

“Daphne, I don’t think you should—” Heather started, but before she could finish, Daphne handed Chip a twenty. “Buy those,” she finished, sighing in frustration.

Daphne uncorked the bottle and waved it under Scooby and Shaggy’s noses. Nothing happened. She rounded on Chip angrily. “They’re still not coming around!”

“Sorry, no refunds,”

Heather frowned and glared at him. “What are you even doing here?” 

Fred was luckily able to provide another means of waking them up. “I think I might have the solution.” He held up a paper bag and pulled out a churro. “Try this churro I grabbed from the concession stand.”

Daphne took the churro and held it between Shaggy and Scooby’s heads. Immediately, their noses twitched, and, eyes still closed, they moved their heads and began to eat the churro. They ate their way through from either end, until they reached the middle.

Then, in an awkward moment, their mouths pressed together. They froze, their eyes opened, and they stared at each other. Then they broke away. “Hey, man!”

“Ri, Shaggy!”

Heather smiled at them. Same old Shaggy and Scooby. “How are you guys feeling?” she asked.

Shaggy sat up, while Scooby laid back down. “I feel like a couple more churros,” Shaggy said cheerfully. “How about you, Scooby Doo?”

Scooby sat up happily. “Reah! And donuts, too!”

Chip popped up again, this time holding a box of pastries. “How about some KISS Kakes? Now with Spaceman Sprinkles!”

Growling darkly, Heather grabbed Chip’s shoulder and pulled him back, turning him around so he could see the furious look in her eyes. “Beat it, little man!”

Chip trembled in fear. “U-Uh, got it.” He made a break for the doors, Fred moving out of the way to let him pass.

Once he was gone, Fred turned to Shaggy. “What happened?”  

Shaggy put his chin in his hand as he thought back. “Well, first we got some ice cream… which Scooby Doo licked away from me,” he added, glaring annoyedly at Scooby.

Scooby just licked his lips happily. “Yummy, yummy, yummy!”

“And then there was this smell, and the stinky witch, and all this running and music, and spinning, and then… uh, and then…” Shaggy suddenly pointed at KISS. “Like, they saved us! KISS and their superpowers!”

Scooby wagged his tail. “That’s right! KISS has superpowers!”

Heather’s smile dropped and she looked over at the band. Catman was doing a good job of looking confused, Spaceman and Starchild looked a little concerned, and Demon looked indifferent as always.

Velma, on the other hand, looked like she didn’t believe them at all. “Sounds like they spun around one too many times in those drums,” she said to Heather.

Shaggy heard them. “No!” he protested, and pointed at each band member, listing off whatever power they used. “Like, he shot eye beams, he grew claws, he did lightning bolts, and he flew in and blew the biggest fire ever!”

Scooby leapt out of bed and hugged Demon. “Thank you, Mr. Demon!”

Demon glared at him. “Beat it, mutt, before you dent my armor,” he growled.

Scooby immediately pulled away, shrinking back in fear. “Y-Yes, sir. O-Of course, sir.”

“Shaggy, you’re imagining things,” Velma said logically to him.

“Well, he didn’t imagine the witch,” Heather said. “I smelled something terrible when I got to the drums, too.”

“What should we do now?” Daphne asked aloud.

The doors suddenly banged open. “You must leave!”

They all jumped and whirled around. Standing in the doorway was a woman with long brown hair, wearing a green dress and blue shawl with no shoes, gazing angrily at the gang.

“Trust me, KISS,” she said, her voice sounding way more dramatic than necessary. “These children are nothing but trouble! You think they’re allies, but in the end, the only person they’ll help, is the Crimson Witch, in her plans to bring total devastation to this world!”

Heather thought she was finished, but then the woman turned and pointed at her, eyes wild. “And you, Black Dahlia, you never should have returned to KISS! Your stolen powers will only serve the Crimson Witch and her plans for destruction!”

Heather stared at her, eyes wide. How did she know…

There was a beat of silence, then the sound of shaking metal reached everyone’s ears. Heather turned away from the woman and saw that Shaggy and Scooby’s beds were empty, and that a locker off to the side was vibrating. Fred went over and opened the door, revealing Scooby and Shaggy cowering inside. “Guys, you’ve gotta stop doing this,”

“If you wish to speak further, you know where to find me,” the woman said. Then she turned on her heel, and vanished through the doors.

Once she was gone, Velma immediately rounded on KISS. “Who was that?”

“Chikara, the psychic,” Starchild explained.

“She works at the park,” Catman said.

“She tells people’s fortunes,” Spaceman finished.

“Well, she smells like a mixture of patchouli and hobo,” Velma deadpanned.

“She’s actually very wise. Maybe someone should talk to her,” Starchild suggested.

“I’ll go,” Spaceman volunteered.

Velma went over to him. “Mind if I tag along?” she asked. “I find it odd that she thinks she knows so much about the witch.”

“I don’t mind,” Spaceman said to her. “Would that be okay with you, Heather?” They both turned to Heather.

Heather was rubbing the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. She waved a hand at them. “Why’re you asking me? Go ahead, Velm.”

Spaceman turned back around and offered his arm to Velma. Smiling, Velma took it, and they both left.

“Some of us should go back to the drum ride and try to pick up the witch’s trail,” Daphne suggested.

Starchild leaned over to her, smiling. “I’ll go with you, if you want,”

Daphne smiled eagerly. “I want…”

Fred frowned, and cut in, “I’ll go, too. Aunt Heather, wanna come with?” He looked at her with a pleading look on his face.

Heather shrugged. “Yeah, sure,”

Starchild offered his arm to Daphne and they began to head out the door, Fred and Heather behind them. He turned to Demon and Catman, the only ones left in the room with Scooby and Shaggy. “Demon, Catman, keep an eye on Scooby and Shaggy,”

As they headed down the hallway, Daphne suddenly thought of something and turned to Heather. “Hey, Heather, why did Chikara call you Black Dahlia?”

Heather froze. She was trying not to let on, but Chikara’s words had shaken her, more than a bit. “Uh… did she? I didn’t hear her say that.”

Fred looked at her, unimpressed. “Aunt Heather, everyone heard her say it. You’re avoiding the question.”

“No, I’m not, because I didn’t hear her say that. Starchild, did you hear her say that?”

Starchild turned to her in confusion. “Of course I—” Heather shot him a glare, and he immediately changed his words. “Uhh… no, I didn’t hear her say that, either.”

Heather nodded and turned back to Fred. “See? Starchild didn’t hear that, either.” When Fred went to say more, she cut him off. “Shouldn’t we be focusing on the witch?”

Once Starchild and Daphne had walked ahead, Fred rounded on Heather. “C’mon, Aunt Heather, you clearly heard her call you Black Dahlia. Why deny it?”

“I’m…” Heather sighed. “It’s… it’s just complicated, Fred. But if this is just the usual kind of mystery you guys deal with,” and she was hoping and praying it was, “then you don’t need to worry about it.”

Fred still looked unsure. Heather wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Fred, really, you don’t need to worry about it. You just worry about the witch and whether Starchild will keep hitting on Daphne.”

“I do not worry about that!”

“Oh, Freddy… yes you do.”

-KISSTERIA-

When they arrived at the drum ride, Heather immediately went off to inspect one of the drums, while Fred went to find some evidence. Daphne just kept gazing dreamily at Starchild.

According to what she knew, the Crimson Witch had most likely used a glowing red scythe. The drum she inspected had part of the rim sliced clean off. Any further away from the rim and it could have sliced through Shaggy or Scooby. She hoped it was from a real scythe, a real, solid one that couldn’t be conjured up from nowhere. And yet… something about the drum ride felt very off, just from the Crimson Witch’s presence there.

Heather sighed and ran a hand over her face. What was she even doing here? She’d agreed to come with the gang so she could see a KISS concert. That was it. She was just going to watch the concert, see her boys live again, then leave; she hadn’t even been hoping they would spot her. And now she was potentially going to run into the one being in the entire galaxy she didn’t want to see ever again.

Her thoughts turned to her family. Did they even worry about her anymore? Or had they abandoned her, resigned to the fact that she was here on Earth, powerless because of the choice she made to leave? Even if she was able to go back one day, she thought, they probably wouldn’t accept her back. They had offered her the chance to come home only once before, but she had turned it down.

“Let me see let me see let me see!”

Heather was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of an excited Daphne, and she turned her head to see her scrambling to take her phone from Fred. He must have been forced to take pictures of her and Starchild. Heather smiled and shook her head, then walked back over to them as Daphne looked at her phone.

“I found a slice mark on one of the drums,” she informed Fred. “But no other evidence.” Well, besides the evidence she knew Fred wouldn’t buy. “Did you find something?”

Fred held up a plastic evidence bag, and Heather saw some red powder inside. “I found some residue from the red mist the witch had.”

Heather gazed at the powder, impressed. “Huh. I never would have seen that. Nice work, Fred.”

Fred smiled proudly.

Daphne suddenly said, “Fred, your thumb was in the way!... On all of them!”

Heather looked at her phone screen. Sure enough, Fred’s thumb was in the picture of Daphne posing with Starchild, his thumb just so happening to be right over Starchild’s head.

Fred pretended to look apologetic, but was failing miserably. “Oh, gosh! Heh, I’m sorry…”

“Are you doing this on purpose?” Daphne asked him angrily.

“No! I just don’t see what the big deal is. We’ve solved over a thousand mysteries together, and you’ve never once asked to have a picture taken with me!”

Heather had to let out a small smile of amusement. Her nephew was so jealous.

“No worries,” At Starchild’s voice, they turned and found him sitting at an easel, seemingly produced out of nowhere, holding a painting palate and paintbrush. He also had a red beret on his head. “I got one of the both of you. In vibrant, colorful acrylic!”

Heather raised an eyebrow. “Where did you get the—never mind.”

Daphne ran over and gazed at the portrait in amazement. “You just painted our portrait?”

“Sure.” Heather could tell Starchild was trying not to be too smug about it.

“Just now?”

“No big deal. Just something I do in my spare time.”

Heather and Fred went over and looked at the portrait. It would have been a well-done picture of Fred and Daphne… if there wasn’t a huge thumb over Fred’s head.

“Oops,” Starchild said in mock-surprise. “Well, look, my thumb got in the way!”

“But you painted it,” Fred deadpanned.

“Luckily,” Starchild grabbed the paintings by his boots and held them up, “I did a couple more for safety.”

Heather looked at the paintings. Daphne was painted exactly how she looked in real life… while Fred’s head looked like a monkey’s.

She let out a bark of laughter and smacked Starchild’s shoulder. “Petty. And give me that.” She snatched the beret off Starchild’s head.

“Hey!”

“The beret makes you look ridiculous,”

Fred did not look amused. “I think I liked your thumb better. We should take some more pictures of the scene itself.”

“No need,” said Starchild as he folded up the easel. “One scan with my special eye will tell us all we need to know.” He leaned over to Daphne, smiling conspiratorially. “It puts the ‘X’ in x-ray.”

Fred scoffed. “My nephew had a special eye. A pink one called conjunctivitis.”

“Oh, that reminds me, how’s he doing?” Heather asked Fred.

“Better, thanks,”

The four headed over to where Heather had found the mark on the drum. Starchild held out his arms dramatically. “There’s definitely a supernatural presence at work here…”

Heather didn’t look at him. She felt it too; it was the residual magic left behind by the Crimson Witch. She didn’t even have magic powers anymore and she still felt it.

“Hey, guys, wait,” Daphne said suddenly. “Listen.” She stamped her foot down on the ground, and they heard nothing out of the ordinary. Then she stamped her other foot, and Heather heard an echoing sound.

“Not bad,” Starchild commented, “but I am not into tap dancing. I am purely into rock n’ roll!” He pumped his fists. “Whoa yeah!”

Daphne, Fred, and Heather stared at him. Heather had a smile on her face as she shook her head.

“… Okay,” Daphne said after a second. “Well, one side sounds solid, and the other hollow…”

Fred got what she was saying. “As if it’s some sort of trapdoor!”

“Exactly!”

Daphne stamped down on the ground again, then knelt and felt around. She finally found what she was looking for, and the trapdoor swung open. The four of them looked down into the darkness beyond the trapdoor.

“It looks like one of the doors to the catacombs,” Starchild observed.

Daphne looked up at him. “The what-a-combs?”

“The catacombs are what we call the maze of hallways that run under the park,” Starchild explained. “They give us access to any area, including the main stage.”

“I’ll bet this is how the witch disappeared!” Daphne concluded.

“Which means,” Heather said aloud, “only someone who knew about the catacombs could have used it.”

“Sounds dangerous.” Starchild pushed Fred back. “Stay back, Frank!”

“Fred,” Fred corrected in irritation.

“I’ll go first to make sure it’s safe.” Starchild turned and grinned at Heather. “Care to join me?”

Heather grinned back. “Sure, sounds fun,”

Starchild gestured to the trapdoor. “Ladies first,”

“Oh no, it could be dangerous. You go first,”

“If you insist,”

And without another word, Starchild leapt through the trapdoor and down into the darkness below.

“You’re not seriously going, are you?” Fred asked Heather.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” Then she shouted down into the darkness, “My turn!”

She leapt through the opening. “Whee!”

Heather fell for a couple seconds, then let out an “Oof!” as Starchild caught her in his arms.

He smiled jokingly at her. “Ma’am,”

Heather snickered, rolling her eyes. “Such a gentleman. Now put me down.”

Starchild put her down and they both looked around. “Pretty dark down here,” Heather commented. “Got a flashlight?”

“How dare you assume I need a flashlight,” replied Starchild in mock-offense.

“Well, I don’t see one on that tight costume of yours,”

The star around Starchild’s eye glowed purple, and soon the corridor was lit up in a purple light. Starchild grinned at her. “How’s that for a flashlight?”

Heather rolled her eyes fondly. “Good to see you’re still a show-off,”

They set off down the corridor, intending to search the sector of the catacombs they were in. Heather did think back to Daphne and Fred, but she wasn’t too worried about them. They were smart; they’d find their way around.

“So how are you related to Fred?” Starchild asked as they walked down the hall.

Heather raised an eyebrow at him. “If you knew his name this whole time, why have you been calling him Frank? Are you trying to get a rise out of him?”

Starchild shrugged, smiling innocently. “Maybe. And you haven’t answered my question. Is he your…” he trailed off.

“Is he my… what?” There was a pause where they stopped walking and Heather stared blankly at him.

Then it suddenly clicked as to what he was asking. “Is he my son?”

Starchild nodded.

Heather’s mouth dropped open, and she gave him a scandalized look. “Oh gods, Starchild, no!”

Starchild raised his hands placatingly. “Sorry, sorry! It’s just you two look similar, and I thought—”

“Well, you thought wrong!” Heather barked.

“Okay, sorry! Really, Bla—Heather, I’m sorry.”

Heather sighed and waved a hand. “It’s fine. If you really want to know, I’m his godmother. I met his mom when I came to Ohio.”

“Oh. What’s her name?”

Heather smiled slightly at the thought of her honorary sister. “Her name’s Judy. Fred takes after her more than he realizes. He doesn’t have her good taste in music, though.”

“Does he also take after her in terms of snark, or does he get that from you?”

Heather’s smile widened. “From me, of course.”

Starchild laughed, and they continued walking. They had almost reached the other end of the sector when he spoke again. “So, how’ve you been, Bla—Heather?”

Heather glanced at him as he corrected himself. “I’ve been… I’ve been good. I’ve got a place to live where I can play and grow flowers, and I’ve got a sort-of family… Yeah, I’ve been good.”

“You’ve also gotten old,” Starchild couldn’t help saying.

Heather scoffed humorlessly. “Still prettier than you. And that wasn’t really my choice, was it?”

Both of them fell silent at that. Starchild glanced at the floor awkwardly. “No… I guess not…”

Heather’s face softened at Starchild’s regretful look. “Listen, you know that wasn’t your fault. And me leaving wasn’t your fault, either. I just… I didn’t want to be deadweight to you guys anymore.”

“You were never deadweight,” Starchild protested, but Heather cut him off.

“I know, I but I felt like I was. Besides, if I hadn’t left, I never would’ve met Judy. So don’t feel bad over something that was never your fault.”

There was a pause. Then Starchild smiled fondly at her. “Y’know, I kinda missed your bluntness,”

Heather smiled and linked their arms together. “I missed you, too,”

There was a pause, then Starchild looked around again. “We should probably keep searching.”

“Lead the way,”

As they continued, there was a shift in the air between the two old friends, and Heather inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. She had her best friend back—though something told her she never lost him in the first place.

[hey-mrsunshine]

demisexualmerrill:

Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?”

Pairing: Kihyun x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Tag: AU!Florist

Word count: 2584

“Can I have a bouquet of red roses?”

“What is the occasion if I may know?”

“I want to propose to my girlfriend, you know…ask her if she wants to live with me forever,” the man chuckles shyly.

I smile at the man, “What do you think about arbutus?” I walk out from the counter to take the arbutus, "They mean ‘Thee who only I love’ - it sounds perfect for proposing.”

The man looks at the flower for a moment before shaking his head sheepishly. “It is great but nah. I think red roses are still prettier and my girlfriend like them more.”

I can only force a smile as the man’s decision has been absolute. I grimace before wrapping the man a bouquet of red roses, just like what he first ordered. I hand the bouquet and the man walks with it with a content heart.

I can only watch his figure walks away, quite concerned. Red roses do have meaning of love and respect, loved by many people, but I do not understand people who buy red roses just because it is more beautiful than the others. Every flower is pretty and they have their own meaning and I think, red roses do not have the meaning that arbutus holds for proposing event - you are the only one I love. I sigh, it is unfortunate.

Not long after that, a girl storms in. Her face is scrunched, eyebrows almost meet in the center, and hands are fisted tightly. She stops in front of the counter and slams it hard with her palms. I do think that she is in pain, but it is nothing compares to her anger.

“How do I passive-aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in flower?��

I raise an eyebrow, “Excuse me?”

“I need a flower that means ‘fuck you’,” she hisses, emphasizing the word ‘fuck you’ real hard.

Now looking at the girl closer, I notice the girl’s face is red in furry, her eyes are red too and they are swollen. I guess she was crying before she came into my shop.

I clear my throat and adjust my eyeglasses, “I’m sorry, but first - what do you mean by ‘passive-aggressively’?”

The girl rolls her eyes and snorts, “Just give me the fucking flowers!”

I chuckle, “I’m sorry, there is no flowers that can express that.”

“I will pay as much as you want, just give me! Or make one for me! I don’t know!”

I smile, “I’m sorry, but I’m scared that there’s no flowers that can describe your current feeling now.”

She bites her lower lip as she closes her eyes. Her hands are fisted again. She takes a deep breath before she opens her eyes. I think she is now very annoyed, I literally can see smoke comes out from her ears because I answered her back and is persistent to not give the flowers to her. However, I have my own reason.

I believe there is no flower with that kind of evil meaning that the girl wants.

Of course there are flowers those mean disappointment, hatred, but ‘fuck you’? There is no flower that is rude like that.

“Aish! Pain in the ass,” she curses before storming out from the store angrily.

I just shake my head. Kids these days.

The next morning comes and unfortunately, it is raining. There is no flower that can bear the extreme weather and so, the flower shop feels very gloomy. There is no one stopping by the flower shop until that girl. The very same girl that stormed into the store and asking for the flower that speaks ‘fuck you’.

“I want a mauve carnation!” she says as she slams 20 bucks on the desk again.

I chuckle as I scan the girl from head to toe. She is really angry until she does not care whether she is drenched by the rain or not. “Are you horny now?”

The girl raises an eyebrow, very offended. “Did you just throw sexual remark?! I’m going to report you,” the girl hisses as she takes out her phone.

I laugh again, “No…It’s not that…But I think that flower is not the one that you are searching for.”

“What are you saying?! Don’t lie to me, I’ve searched for the meaning and it means ‘fuck’!”

“But not that way Miss,” I stop laughing and walks out from the counter. “Mauve carnation means dreams of fantasy. Yes, it can means ‘fuck’ - but in sexual way.”

The girl goes silent for a second before falling on the ground and pulls her hair, sobbing. “I don’t know! Just make one!!! I really hate them - my best friend fucking cheats with my boyfriend!!!” she screams.

I sigh, thinking that the girl is very pitiful indeed. I take my scissors and proceeds to group of lilies, “It seems like you are really desperate, so I’ll make you one - one bouquet of ‘fuck you’.”

I cut the flowers, flowers those describe her anger. I don’t know why she wants a very ugly bouquet, but I hope this flowers can heal her anger.

“Orange lilies for hatred,” I cut the flower, she must have really hated her friend and her boyfriend - or should I say, ex-boyfriend.

“Foxglove means insincerity,” for her boyfriend’s insincerity while dating the girl and her best friend who isn not loyal to her.

“Meadowsweet for uselessness,” to show how worthless both person are for her. The girl does not need people who are useless like them.

“Geraniums for stupidity,” to show that they are very stupid to hurt someone close to them, for the boy who leaves a pretty girl behind for another bitch.

“And last but not the least, yellow carnation for ‘you have disappointed me’,” to show how disappointed the girl is toward her best friend and her boyfriend too.

I finish the bouquet prettily, with a black ribbon to symbolizes her feelings for them is already dead - gone with all of her trusts toward them.

The girl wipes her tears on as she takes the bouquet.

“It becomes too pretty to be given to bastards like them,” she states as she stares at the bouquet.

“That’s why I refused to make you one before - there’s no flowers those mean as ugly as ‘fuck you’,” I chuckle as I put her money into the cashier machine.

She actually smiles as she holds the bouquet closer to her. Her very first smile since she stepped into this flower shop. She can be prettier than any flowers out there if just she was not hurt.

“Thank you,” the girl says as she walks out from the flower shop.

“Wait!” I stop her. I jog to her and takes an umbrella that is resting beside the door. “Don’t catch cold if you want to scream on your enemies - it is embarrassing.”

The girl chuckles and takes the umbrella, “I’ll give it back,” and then she gets out and disappears.

The next day, when the weather is great, the girl comes again. This time, she is putting her brightest expression like she has win a lottery and brings a bouquet of flowers too, pink and peach roses.

“Thank you,” she says as she gives it to me, “I get the meaning correct, right?”

I chuckle as I take the flowers, “Yes, it’s right now,” I smell the flowers, “But I hope you buy the flowers from here though, so I can get the money.”

The girl rolls her eyes but laughs, “I buy it on the other shop because it should be a surprise for you. However, I will make sure to buy flowers from you next time.” She puts the umbrella that I lend it yesterday, “Thank you again from the umbrella.”

I nod my head, “That’s great. To whom you give the bouquet?”

She smiles, “My ex-best friend. We were sitting in the cafe and I handed her the flowers with smile on my face.

I listen to her, very curious what kind of effect those pretty flowers give to her best friend. I hope it is effective.

“She looked at the flowers like she was sorry and she did say sorry to me. After that, I told her the meaning of the flowers calmly. She was fucking flabbergasted that I would like to take a picture of it and showed it to you,” she laughed.

“Whoa, I bet you’re very cool back then,” I smile.

She nods her head, “Right, I felt like I win.”

The bell shop rings and I see a male enters my shop.

“Hello, may I help you?” I ask politely.

“Uhh…I would like red roses…I want to confess to a girl today,” he states with a sheepish smile.

“Whoaa, congrats to you,” the girl says.

The guy chuckles, “Ahh, thank you very much. It is love at first sight and I thought it wasn’t going to work…”

“Rather than red roses, how about gloxinia? It means ‘love at first sight’,” I say.

The guy glances unsurely at me, “I’m not sure…will she like it? She says roses are the best.”

The girl pats the guy’s shoulder, “Listen to him. You can buy the flowers and explain the meaning to her. It’s effective,” the girl says with two thumbs up, making me chuckle at her cuteness.

“Ahh, really?”

“Yeah, really! Yesterday I took revenge to my best friend who cheated with my boyfriend - I felt like I won over her once I saw her flabbergasted expression after I explained the meaning.”

The guy is convinced and decides to buy gloxinia. But he says to keep one or two stalks of roses too, so the girl is not disappointed. I do as he says and hands the flower bouquet gladly.

“Thank you for buying the flowers,” I say, “I hope the confession will go smoothly.”

The guy smiles and nods his head, then walks out with big expectation of his confession today.

The girl turns again toward me, “Are you always like that? Recommending flowers depending on the buyer?”

I nod my head, “That is how flower’s language works.”

“That’s very unique of you. I bought the flowers from another florist and the florist did not even know the meaning when I asked,” she pouts, “But fortunately the meaning is right~”

She says that with a big smile on her face and it makes me smile too. I was right - she is really pretty with smile instead of tears. She is more colorful than all flowers that I own.

“You are prettier when you smile, so please smile a lot,” I say.

The girl raises an eyebrow, “Is that a pickup line?”

“I’m praising you, but if you want to take it that way, you can do that too.”

The girl pouts, “Why are you trying to confuse me? I’ve just broken up though.”

I just smile and decide to not reply her.

Afterward, she keeps coming to the shop. I am very happy for her company and just know her name after her third visit. Usually I just take care of the flowers alone, now I have a partner beside me. Even though she only comes to play and just casually talks, I feel much better with her around.

She does not spend a day with me as she actually has a job. She just drops and talks to me while she is on break - about her annoying boss, her works those are piled, or maybe gossiping about her coworkers. Sometimes, she will bring her coworkers, work partner, or her boss when they all need to buy flowers for special occasion.

“Y/N, can you take a flower behind the counter?” I ask her. Y/N obeys and takes the flower, bringing it to me.

“It’s for you,” I say as I water the flowers carefully.

“What does this mean?” she asks as she smells the flower.

“Gardenia for good luck,” I say, “You have been coming here frequently and sometimes you bring friends with you. I’m really glad of that and I think you are my good luck charm - I would like you to know that.”

Y/N smiles and if I am not wrong, I see a tint of pink on her cheeks.

“That’s so cheeky,” she mutters, “But thank you.”

What she does not know is that gardenia has another meanings too - secret love for what I have been feeling these days, and joy to show that I am really happy for her presence.

Another meaning is sweet love - which I hope it will be in our future.

“I’ve decided,” I say to Y/N. I bring up a small pot of gorse and hands it to Y/N, “I think I like you, do you want to date with me?” I ask.

Y/N takes the pot and smiles, admiring the pot of gorse. However, soon she drops the smile, looking a tad disappointed.

She makes me scared all of sudden - what if between all of these times, when she frequently visits me for months, she already gets someone who she likes? What if she already gets boyfriend? To think about it, I have never asked her before, whether she is close to someone or not.

“Y-you can cut the flowers if you don’t like me back,” I mutter.

“No…It’s not that,” Y/N smiles, “It’s just…You don’t feel like you are in love with me.”

“You seem so cool, never stuttering, not even shy. You keep throwing words those make me thinking - do you really like me or those words are just words without meaning?” Y/N says and smiles as she strokes the flowers carefully, “But I’m glad that you have the same feeling with me.”

I sigh and lick my dry lips unconsciously, “You got me.”

Y/N laughs, “You really looked like you’re going to faint when I stopped smiling.”

I chuckle too without knowing, “You know know how much you make my heart skips a beat - that just shows how much I actually like you.”

“What does this mean anyway?”

“Love in all seasons,” I say.

“Do you wish for our love to stay in all seasons? Forever?” she asks and I nod.

“You are very romantic,” she states. She puts down the pot and walk toward me. Surprisingly, she wraps her arms around my waist and hugs me tightly.

I slowly bring up my arms, hugging her back. She feels so warm and so tiny, makes me want to protect her forever.

“Thank you,” she whispers. She smiles and looks up to me.

“For what?”

“For everything,” she grins.

She is really cute that I can not help myself to give a peck on her lips. Every time she smiles, she really makes me happy and it is the only thing that matters.

She tiptoes and pecks my lips back. When she wants to let go, I peck her again and without knowing, we are drowning into our own world. Her lips taste sweet and I just can not let it go. I just pull her closer to me when it can not be closer than this already.

Then someone clears their throat.

We break our kiss and right away jump at the sudden interruption. I clear my throat and dust my apron, while Y/N looks away and mutters nonsense before fleeing away.

“Kids these days,” the grandpa mutters, “I was the one that ordered jasmines. I want to take them”

“Ah yes, I’ll take them.”

[xdepthsofwinterx]

Shipping Q&A:

SHIPPING INFO // Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog. REPOST. Don’t reblog.

What’s your OTP for your Muse?:

 It’sComplicated x EvasiveLilShite

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?:

Platonic partnerships, heated one-night stands, prolonged flirtatious banter that’s just that. Deep friendships that sprout into something more – those can be the most rewarding. Pretty much anything, given how fickle my muse is. This excludes emotional and physically abusive ships of course. I won’t stand for that shit in real life, so why should I in fictional settings?

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?:

Anything below RL legal ages is an instant NO. I personally prefer no more than 10-15 years older (30-40) and 2-3 years younger (20/21), but that isn’t to say that Dhana won’t be interested to an older person – especially if they’re much older by racial means. It’s just my comfort zone for writing.

Are you selective when shipping?:

Marginally. I won’t permit shipping with someone I don’t know or who hasn’t interacted with Dhana at least once. And that’s just me. If my muse gives off the ‘no’ vibes, then sorry folks – the answers gonna be a negative. Like I said, she’s a fickle bugger.

Unless we’re talking drunken shenanigans or crack, then anything is possible!

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?:

When the hand slips beneath the belt you mean? I would considered most forms of foreplay NSFW, so those go under the cut. I will admit, I prefer not writing all out smut. I just don’t see the need for it. Cutting to black after a certain extent is preferable, but if I felt comfortable enough with the RP partner, I might be willing to write throughout. My apologies if this disappoints.

Who are other muses you ship your muse with?:

I am not sure I actively ship her with anyone in particular, not all out ship anyway. In her canon!verse, Dhana has history with Xanos, but it was merely physical. There are also embers of affection for Elithrar – these are largely platonic. I seesawed between wanting to ship them romantically, and wanting them to be epically close friends. Who knows! xD

Valen could be another option. In game, I tried romancing him with Dhana and it felt wrong. This could be largely due to Dhana’s personality being a quite different from the given personality options. And so far seeing how well @shadowbreathing & Dhana’s interactions have progressed, it could be possible.

Speaking of HotU characters, I really wish there had been an option to romance Nathyrra as a female PC. I always felt Dhana had a thing for her, but it would most likely be one-sided x’D

Of course, I will forever ship her and Deekin as the platonic soul buddies~!

Does one have to ask to ship with you?:

I would prefer to discuss it, yes. After all, if it’s a serious thing, our muses are gonna need chemistry of some sort. Planning is good too, but can stifle if overworked. So long as the ship has some direction, it’s all good. The end result doesn’t have to be good and happy either – after all, when do relationships go swimmingly?

How often do you like to ship?:

One in a while? Keep a slowburner going, yank it over the coals from time to time. I ain’t fussy, but I can’t help it if Dhana wants to get her flirt on.

Are you multiship?:

Yep, yasss, definitely. Even in the same verse if all parties involved are happy with it.

Are you obsessed or ship more-or-less?:

I used to be, but I’ve become pretty weary with ship hype over the years. I prefer slow burners for sure - they are no less intense, but more manageable I find. Though given Dhana’s tendency to bring home ‘strays’, I’ve had to adapted somewhat ¬-¬’ –sounds like an old grumpy granny-.

What is your favourite ship in your current fandom?:

Uhh….Dhana x her quilt? x’D What, she loves that thing! If we are talking in the FR community here, it is probably TomixRith >83

Finally, how does one ship with you?:

Specify whether crack or not! Then just bump into my muse and I, maybe buy us dinner and a drink, and hey presto – you’re on track to begin!

Otherwise, just send a PM to inquire if you are unsure x’D.

TAGGED BY: No one, I am the lone wolf~! TAGGING: N/A

[cass-trash]

Honey and Rain (Part One)

A/N: I had to post it twice since the Continue reading button wasn’t working for mobile, but hopefully it’s up and running by now. 

Warnings: Mild swearing, blood

Next Chapter: Part Two

You had never asked for this to happen to you.

You weren't a believer of God or angels and demons and that sort of stuff. You thought it was all crap. That is, until you were rudely awoken by a pair of muscular arms holding you down, another hand keeping your mouth open while somebody brought a container holding some sort of bright white light towards your face.

The pastoral fragrance filled your nose, practically hitting you in the face with a mixture of honey, pine needles and rain. Was that from the light? No, that's impossible.  

You kicked and thrashed against the men's holds, but it was as if they had you tied down. Your arms could barely move an inch. Screaming out for help only seemed to make them angrier, causing one of them to get a few punches into your stomach.

The men shoved the light into your mouth, finally releasing your struggling limbs once you had swallowed it. The light had left a lingering taste of honey behind. Maybe it is possible? Soon after, they vanished into thin air. Did they really vanish into thin air or were you going insane?

Seconds after they had left you could feel a sharp pain running from your head all the way to the bottom of your spine, as if somebody was running a blade deep into your flesh and pouring some sort of burning substance into the wound. Running to the joint bathroom, you stared into the mirror and watched as something black and feathery sprouted from your back. You screamed in pain, wishing your roommate was here to help you, but she had left to Hawaii a week ago. "What the hell!?" You growled.

You fell to the floor on your knees, the cold tiles sending chills up your legs. Your arms being the only limps cooperating with you, keeping you from falling face first into the floor. "Those ba-" You screamed out again, watching something that looked like a wing stretch out from your back. "Bastards!" You yelled.

Ever since that night, you hated angels. You couldn't explain what happened to you and your friends only thought you were insane. After three days of constant talking about wings and weird abilities, they sent you to a physiatric ward. That's when you figured out how to teleport.

A day later, you had orders from angels to protect and watch over a child named Liam. That didn't go as planned. You were supposed to make sure nothing happened to him, he was important. A prophet.

You had found Liam's body hanging from his living room's ceiling fan, his neck purple and bruised from the tight rope and his eyes open with tears. His parents were out on a family business trip to Texas and the babysitter had chosen to not do her job. You remember the horrible smell of expired Chinese food filling the house, the soda cans littered everywhere, but you remembered the look on Liam's lifeless face the most. Complete and utter sadness.

After that, you had enough. You hated angels with a passion. You killed any angel you found, whether they tried to persuade you they "weren't like the others" or not. You hated angels for making you into this monster and forcing you to go through the pain of watching a child's body hang from his own ceiling.

Within days, you killed nearly a decade worth of angels. They had tried to boss you around, giving you complicated orders on who to follow or who to protect, but you eventually blocked them out of your head. Until today.

"Y/n." You heard the familiar voice of the angel that was bossing you around from day one. You still didn't know his name but you decided one for him. Bastard. He never showed his face to you, but that never stopped him from talking to you in your head.

Scowling at his voice, you gripped tighter to the blade in your hands. "What do you want, Bastard?"

He chuckled. "Still have that silly name for me? Anyways...I have your next human's name for you."

"No." You growled. You swore.

"Yes."

"NO." You shouted, placing the blade into the back of your pants and punching the closest wall towards you.

Bastard's voice got deeper. "Yes. You will protect this human, otherwise I will kill your brothers. Do you hear me? I have them in my sights right now, and don't even try to warn them." Fearing you'd never be able to see your brothers again, you agreed.

"Fine." Your voice was strained. Great, just great. Typical, threats from an angel.

"His name is Castiel. His last location was Sunshine Road motel, hurry."

With that, you flew to the motel, forgetting about the angel you were hunting down at the warehouse. They'd probably manage to find you anyways.

Angels only ever asked you to protect humans that were important, or ones they could eventually use for powerful vessels, so what was up with this Castiel guy? Was he supposed to be a vessel?

You glanced around the run-down motel, noticing water stains in the corners of the ceiling. This only has a few years left. Taking a step towards the desk, you stepped on a newspaper lying on the brown patterned carpet. Picking it up, you saw the headline read "Two females dead, hearts missing." You would do anything to go back before you knew what that meant. Warewolfs.

With an uninterested stance, you threw the paper back to the ground and walked to the cream coloured front desk. "Excuse me, has somebody named Castiel checked in here lately?" You walked up to the lady at the front desk. Violet, her name tag read.

She rolled her eyes. "I can't give that information out." Violet loudly chewed on a piece of gum, wishing you could just smite her for being annoying.

"I'm the boss's niece." You sassed back, you didn't have time for this rubbish. "He needs it."

She gave you a questioning look and reached for the phone. "My boss is a woman,"

Without hesitating, you pressed two fingers to her forehead and knocked her unconscious, listening to the satisfying sound of her body falling to the floor. You wiped her memory of this encounter while she was out, before moving behind the desk and looking over the security tapes.

There had been three people that came in last night. Two were obviously a couple, that probably couldn't afford a better motel.

But the third had caught your attention. A scruffy looking man wearing a dark blue hoodie was clutching onto his side. You zoomed in, barely able to recognise the red liquid from the pixelated image on the screen. His knuckles looked as red and bloody as his clothes, you were unsure whether he was the attacker or the victim. In this line of work, he was probably both.

Following the man through the cameras, you found his room. Retracing his steps, you tried to think of a way to introduced yourself to him. Finally reaching the eleventh door on the left, you knocked on the wood and listened closely. Nothing.

You flew yourself inside of his room, too impatient to try the handle. You were being hurried, after all. Bed sheets were messily placed, hanging off the near side towards the window. Looking even closer, a trail of items lead to the window.

A chilly breeze flew into the room, causing the thin fabric hanging above the window to sway back and forth before finally resting once again. Stepping in front of the open window, you placed your hand on the sill, leaning out and taking a look around. He was no where to be found. As your hand retreated back to your side, you felt something different. Exposing your palm upwards, you saw blood smeared across your palm to your fingertips.

"In a rush?" You asked yourself, looking back to the window sill. Blood was smeared across the wood but you could make out a hand print, the white paint peaked out underneath telling you it was beginning to dry.

This was definitely Castiel. You just had to find him now, and fast. If any of the angels find out you've already lost him, you're dead. Luckily for you, you learnt how to find locations of people by thinking of their name.

Castiel.

Nothing. It was as if he vanished from the face of earth. You prayed- no. Hoped. You hoped he wasn't dead, for yours and his own sake.

Whoever this Castiel guy was, he must be important so you had to make sure he stayed alive unlike Liam. You couldn't see another one of your humans die because of you or your actions.

Thinking hard, you managed to remember a witches name you met a while ago.

"Circe," you whispered to yourself. Flying yourself to her apartment complex, you were met with a strong familiar scent. Herbs, a lot of them, too.

"What the fuck?!" She yelled, crossing her arms. "Fuck sake, Y/n!"

"Sorry," You mumbled, trying to neaten up the paper stack you had blown all over the place. "Uhm- I'll just...place these here..." You said, placing a heavy box full of animal bones on a shelf, only for it to fall to the floor along with even more herbs.

"Oh my-" She frustratingly growled, slapping you in the back of the head. "Just leave it alone you damn angel."

Rubbing the back of your head, you took a step away from the mess and awkwardly sat at the table with bowls full of blood and other witch stuff. "I uhm- I should have called." You mumbled, finally looking into her brown eyes.

"Yeah, you should have." She growled, crossing her arms like a mother. "What do you need this time?" She asked, tilting her head slightly, allowing her brown curls to cover one eye.

For a witch, Circe wasn't that bad. She only used her spells on people who deserve them. Criminals. "Uhh, I need a guys location, names Castiel." You said, gnawing on your finger nervously. Sure, you were an angel and probably could smite her with a flick of the wrist, but Circe scared you. She was more human than witch, at least her personality was, and that scared you. After you had swallowed that light, you basically lost all humanity that was ever inside of you. Who wouldn't be afraid of Circe after everything she's done, she can still act and feel like a human?

Circe understood your panic and hurry and removed the bowls from the table immediately, replacing it with a map of Kansas. You watched impatiently, listening to her chant something and light the map on fire. Within seconds, the map had burnt to ashes besides a spot in the left hand corner. "He's there," She said, tapping on the street name. "Most likely in that motel," She tapped on the closest motel.

Smiling gratefully, you nodded your head as a thank you and quickly flew to the motel she had mentioned. Just like the other, this motel was on its few last years. Wallpaper looked as if it had been slowly torn day by day, while the furniture's mould was bent in and looked incredibly unclean.

Without bothering to check-in at the front desk, you went from door to door trying to find this dang human. After the fifth door, you finally saw the face from the video cameras. "Hello?" He asked wearily, hiding behind the door.

You squinted at his behaviour, wondering what he was hiding behind the panel of wood separating the two of you. Remembering you had strict orders from heaven, you came up with a lame excuse. "I'm Y/n. I saw you outside earlier and was wondering if you'd like to go out for drinks later tonight?" You smiled, pretending to act as normal as possible.

He smiled warmly and moved something around behind his back before stepping away from the door. "I'd really like that, Y/n,"

"Can I uhm- know your name?" Like you needed it.

"Steve,"

Ooh, he is important isn't he?

"Nice to meet you Steve,"

"You too," He shifted on his feet and glanced around before finally opening his mouth to speak once again. "What time do we leave?"

Perfect.