#when i am attempting arts I like to have a corresponding playlist

[green-eyes-and-orange-ties]

The Harmony Kids Are Alright

Week 2 - Things in Echor that aren't as they first appear A playlist inspired by the Harmony Hall era of Night Shift (not sure what was going on at Harmony but I'm sure who ever was in charge was not super honest about it!)

This is for 30 Days of Echor to hype the Night Shift Season 2 crowdfunding they're already over 50% there after only a week!! More about 30 Days of Echor -> Here

[blissfulsun]

3rd installation of the lessons in love series, written for and with my angel Nics in mind because it’s my best frenssss bday!!! I love you so much💖@vlobsessed

word count: 2,311

A masterpiece in the making // Jeff Wittek

‘You’ve been quiet...’ 

It’s a simple observation made by Jeff, his fingers intertwined in your own as he leads the way and you follow. 

The fact you look so much like a couple right now is not lost on you, hands clasped tightly together and his jacket adorning your frame. 

An older lady even smiles as she walks past you two, it’s the fondness in his eyes that’s corresponding your own which makes her compliment how lovely of a couple you make. 

He’s right, you’ve been quiet since then, far too focused on the hammering in your chest and whether Jeff can hear it. 

If not that, then he can definitely feel just how clammy your palm has become. 

‘Angel?’ there’s humour in his tone, underlying concern that dances in his eye when you finally look up at him just as he pulls your clasped hand up and lays a feather light kiss to the rings adorning each finger. 

‘Sorry, ‘m just hungry’ it’s half a lie, since your stomach does grumble following the confession. 

Jeff knows there’s more to it, but he also knows how you operate, will tell him what’s on your mind when you’re ready. 

Besides, his primary concern right now is to feed you before you get grumpy, a look consisting of a permanent pout and furrowed brows that he secretly loves. 

‘What my girl wants she gets’ You soften, staring up at him with uncontrollable wonder but Jeff just misses it, already looking around the street for a place you might like. 

You end up in a quiet coffee shop, quaint and homely despite it’s location in the city, yourself taking a seat after Jeff has promised he already knows what you want as he goes to order. 

He sits close in the corner booth, your thighs touching and one of his arms around your shoulders while the other pushes another dose of caffeine your way. 

‘Is it-’ You begin to ask. ‘oat milk? Course, told you I know exactly what you like baby.’ 

He feels smug in the way his words seem to make you frazzled, teeth nipping at your bottom lip which makes his heart lodge itself in his throat in return, accidental payback. 

Because you are, frazzled that is, it’s a simple detail: knowing how you like your coffee or that you always forget to bring a jacket wherever you go. 

It’s the choosing to remember that keeps you in your own head so much on this day, Jeff’s choice to take notice of your habits, and you’re not even sure why it feels so different now, why it seems to have such an earth shattering effect on your thought process but it does. 

It feels good to be known without asking, you don’t remember the last time you’ve let someone close enough to even have the opportunity. 

Not like this, with his feet kicking against yours under the table as Jeff retells a story from a barbershop shoot you missed earlier that week, his fingers playing with the hair at the nape of your neck. 

Hours pass like this and you never really notice, afternoon slipping away without a care in the world, your usual habit of glancing at the clock forgotten in favour of looking at him, face animated in the storytelling, eyes reflecting the sunlight bouncing from the windows as strangers come and go but you don’t want to look away and miss a single thing. 

Has he always held your full attention like that? Hours turned to days spent in each other’s company, with your friends crowded around you but no one else truly in your sight. 

‘We should head back to the car if we wanna make our booking in time’ Jeff finally says, bursting the little bubble that’s somehow become your favourite spot in a couple of hours. 

You nod, standing up to follow him outside after thanking the barista in passing, hands once again intertwined. 

Maybe, just maybe your mind has been playing trick on you and there’s nothing different in the way Jeff glances down at you while you roam the streets, there’s nothing unusual about the comfort of his frame towering so closer over yours, or the way he opens the passenger door for you and lands his hand on the top of your thigh as he drives. 

It’s nothing more than two friends pushing boundaries in the name of your forsaken assignment. 

But then he’s smiling over at you, wind blowing his growing hair underneath the cap and cheeks full with bubbling laughter and you think, god, I love you, almost whisper it across the console when you’re sure the music playing is far too loud for him to ever hear it. 

Yeah, it’s definitely you that’s falling, simultaneously for your best friend and apart.

The day continues on, as if you haven’t had an epiphany that’s shaken you to the core. 

Jeff put the truck in park, runs around to your side of the car to open your door and reaches for your hand. 

You fight the urge to shiver when your fingers intertwine. 

‘You ready baby?’ He asks, dimples on show and brown eyes lit with underlying excitement at the prospect of the next part of your evening. 

‘I would be if you finally told me what it is exactly that we’re doing’ you whine, lips forming into a playful pout that Jeff mocks with his own before letting your hand go in favour of throwing his arm around your shoulder to pull you tight into side. 

He comes clean with his lips pressed against your forehead, a half peck accompanied by an instruction ‘We’re just around the corner, you’ll see’ Once you do, the excitement surges through you. 

‘The Broad?’ Jeff observes carefully, fondness sparking in his heart at how easily your expression brightens at the sight. 

Deep inside, he’s already sure you’re bound to be the most angelic work of art he’ll see tonight, a masterpiece of freckles, scars and booming laughter all wrapped up in the best girl he’s ever had. 

Jeff coughs, hand flying to rub at the back of his neck as he nods in answer to your question. 

‘I got us tickets to that light exhibit you wanted t-’ Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets as you interrupt. 

‘Kusama? I thought they were sold out’ your attempts at getting tickets proving futile in months passed. 

You watch the man shrug, expression a mixture between sheepish and smug, ‘I have my ways doll.’ 

The only thing left to do is leap into his awaiting arms, you whisper a gentle thank you with your head furrowed into his neck, lips pressed against the skin there momentarily, the touch is so feather light Jeff’s left wondering if it ever really happened as you pull away only to grab his hand and head inside with a new found bounce to your step.  

He’s right. The mirror rooms are beautiful, each installation of light stretching on in its endless path. 

Your eyes brightened by colour in wonder, each reflecting in the smile that shows your teeth and dimples as Jeff takes pictures and poses accordingly at your request. 

He listens to your explanations , every single thought, hangs on to every word as it leaves your pretty lips.

I could stay here forever. The thought presents itself through an exhale in your mouth, eyes travelling around the final room to land on the brunet that’s asking one of the other visitors to take a picture of you guys. Jeff returns with a sweet older lady in tow. 

‘C’mere doll’ he finds himself behind you, arm wrapped around your waist and palm splayed across your stomach, you smile, first at the lady and then again in preparation for the picture when the same hand turns your frame around and closer in his clasp, Jeff’s face leaning down. 

The flash goes off. He doesn’t kiss you, merely hovers with his forehead pressed against your own, but each of your erratic breaths makes the cupid bow of your upper lip graze the tip of his own. 

‘You two make a lovely couple, it’s sweet to see two young people so in love’ the older lady interrupts the storm brewing in your heart. 

The two of you reluctantly pull away, each reeling at the almost that hangs in the air as Jeff clears his throat and takes his phone back. 

We do..I am, you admit to yourself, gaze following the man that’s somehow the brightest beacon of light to your pacified mind. 

You’re surrounded by art, sculptures and reflections of beauty but there’s only one masterpiece worth observing in wonder for eternity if you get the chance. 

Unknowingly to you, Jeff’s heart is settling in his rib cage with the same realisation. What now? 

Something changes. Shifts as you exit the art gallery to be met with darkness of the night and sidewalks illuminated by streetlights. 

Jeff’s at ease, movements intentional as his hand slips into your own. 

You lift the intertwined fingers up to kiss his knuckles, pretending the blush you see dusting his cheeks and mirrored in your own is caused by evening breeze and not this new found quiet affection that feels so right. 

‘Hungry?’ Jeff asks, breaking the comfortably silence as he swings your hands as you walk to the car. 

‘Mmmm’ you ponder, ‘we could cook something back at mine?’ he nods, the journey spent listening to another one of your playlists made with him in mind. 

It should still terrify you. How your body slots against his, filling every space and gap with gentle precision, each of you mindfully working around the other as you teach him how to make the pasta dish of yours Jeff loves. 

The rest of the evening slipping past you in a domestic bubble of his aftershave wafting through the air and directly into your nose as you cuddle into his chest on the couch. 

‘Y/n...baby wake up’ the soft whisper stirs you awake. 

The moan of protest that leaves your mouth in realisation of being awake causes Jeff’s chest to rumble in laughter under your weight. 

‘Let’s get you to bed doll’ he insists again. 

‘Mhm...yeah, I wanna shower first’ you protest sleepily, body clinging to his warmth like a koala as Jeff sits up and begins the journey to your bedroom. 

Though once he sits you and pulls away you open your eyes to see the tiles of your bathroom from the sink counter. 

Your eyes watch his every move, white cotton shirt stretched along his muscled back as Jeff turns on the shower and sets it to a warm temperature that immediately fills the room with steam. 

He turns around to give you a soft smile, a sweet go ahead before turning to step out.

You’re not sure when you move, feet meeting the cold floor tiles as your small hand wraps around his wrist.

Jeff’s lost, brown eyes searching your own for an answer once he turns around, only seeing the vulnerability laced in your own that causes a stammer in his heart. 

You’re not sure what you’re doing, toeing this invisible line as you pause to momentarily fidget, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip before you whisper ‘Stay.’

One word, short and simple but enough to shatter the thin veil of almost that’s hang over both of you all day, if not for months. 

You think he’ll protest, respond with a Jeff like nervous giggle and the shake of his head that’s meant to let someone down easily, you’ve seen it happen in the past with your very own eyes. 

Instead, you watch the man take a shaky breath, eyes fleeting up and down your frame that’s changed into a hoodie of his earlier. 

He moves, hands instinctively reaching in your direction before they go for his own T-shirt instead, each garment falling to the floor with a thud as you slip your own off and step inside, distorted by the foggy window of your shower. 

Jeff hovers outside, inches of colourful glass separating him from you. 

Before you have a chance to call out his name he’s inside, pools of darkened brown tracing every detail of your bare face framed by wet hair. 

His gaze drops only for a short second, but it feels like a lifetime as you allow yourself to admire his toned chest and pause at the deep v lines of his hips without looking any lower.  

‘Turn around’ the gentle command pulls you away from reverie, you do as he asks. 

Breath quivering in your throat as you watch his hands reach to the shelf built into the wall to pull out your favourite bottle of shampoo before he squirts some onto his palm and begins to massage the soap into your strands, from the roots down to the ends that fall down against the lover skin of your back. 

The sensation is heavenly, Jeff’s long fingers gentle in their effort to clean your hair thoroughly before moving on to conditioner. 

You turn around after, silently returning the favour once he gets the hint and leans down slightly to match your height and allow you easier access to the locks matted against his forehead. 

There’s a moment of clarity, your eyes falling closed as he pulls you into his wet and naked chest, arms wrapping around your shoulder as you both sigh against each other. 

It remains, buzzing in the air when you slip into the bed and slot yourself against his side, head on his chest and leg thrown across his own as Jeff whispers a sweet good night that’s met with your soft snores.

It’s gone in the morning. When you wake up tangled in cold sheets and alone, tears blurring your vision at the realisation that your twenty four hours is finally up.

[magicksborn]

hello,  hello,  hello  my  friends  !  my  name  is  hannah.  i’m  22,  from  the  est,  and  i’m  currently  enrolled  in  school.  i  have  a  fairly  simple  schedule  this  semester  and  will  be  on  as  often  as  i  can  and  i’d  like  to  classify  myself  as  pretty  active.  my  baby,  alyra  mooton,  has  a  ton  of  information  about  her  under  the  cut  —  for  both  herself  and  house  mooton.  in  an  attempt  to  make  sure  this  post  isn’t  a  thousand  miles  long,  you  can  find  a  timeline  for  alyra’s  life  here,  all  of  her  stats  here,  and  all  of  her  connections  (  wanted  and  taken  !  ) here.  like  this  post  and  i’ll  come  at  you  for  plots  !

♔ →  westeros  presents  alyra  mooton,  the  lady  of  maidenpool  and  advisor  to  the  king  in  the  north.  a  raven  sent  word  that  she  bears  the  resemblance  to  hailee  steinfeld.  the  twenty  five  year  old  cis  female  was  tactful  &  intuitive  before  the  dawn  of  war,  but  have  now  become  opinionated  &  unyielding.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  bones  scattered  around  a  chalk  stained  witching  table  adorned  with  greenery  too  far  north,  soft  hands  made  callous  by  impatience  and  desperation,  and  feverishly  quick  quills  across  pages,  droplets  of  ink  scattered  across  notes  of  past  readings.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house  stark,  but  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  hannah,  22,  est,  she/her.  )

BIOGRAPHY

long  before  house  mooton  became  a  vassal  to  the  tullys,  in  the  time  before  the  andal  invasion,  there  was  a  heart  tree  that  the  first  men  protected.  the  original  mootons  worshipped  the  old  gods  of  the  forest,  the  mooton  sisters  still  do.  when  the  andals  invaded,  the  first  men  stood  their  ground  as  best  they  could,  hiding  away  their  stories  under  floorboards  and  in  the  hearts  of  their  children,  praying  they  would  be  passed  down.  the  old  gods  of  the  forest  heard  their  prayers,  the  old  gods  of  the  forest  made  sure  their  stories  were  told.

when  the  andals  brought  the  light  of  the  seven  with  them,  house  mooton  found  what  similarities  they  could.  they  promised  the  children  they  would  protect  the  tree  in  the  center  of  their  household  and  the  children  gave  them  a  gift  in  exchange.  they  approached  the  lady  mooton  who  was  newly  pregnant  and  placed  their  hands  on  her  stomach,  promising  her  prosperity,  foresight,  and  good  fortune.  the  children  kept  their  promise  and  so  did  the  mootons.  the  daughters  born  from  this  promise  millennia  ago  came  in  a  set  of  three,  each  utilizing  a  different  aspect  of  foresight.  every  few  hundred  years,  three  little  girls  come  again.  and  again.  and  again.  as  long  as  they  are  needed,  they  will  come.    

the  mooton  sisters,  regardless  of  which  three  you  speak  of  over  the  course  of  the  last  few  thousand  years,  always  come  in  the  same  three  order  and  always  pay  the  same  three  prices.  the  oldest  will  have  dreams,  vivid  and  hard  to  control  but  once  harnessed  an  irreplaceable  tool.  all  gifts  come  at  a  cost  and  this  gift  is  steep  and  takes  what  it  gives:  sight.  consider  the  silver  lining.  a  lack  of  clarity  in  this  world  gives  you  the  advantage  of  seeing  the  world  beyond  and  all  that  it  could  be.

the  middle  of  the  sisters  uses  bones  and  fire,  a  risk  every  time  she  reached  in  her  hand  to  the  fire.  wait  too  long  and  the  bones  crumple  to  ash,  not  enough  and  a  false  reading  comes  through.  all  gifts  come  at  a  cost  and  this  gift  balances  on  a  moral  scale:  how  many  times  are  you  willing  to  put  an  end  to  one  thing’s  life  to  learn  more  about  a  future  that  isn’t  guaranteed  ?

the  youngest  uses  cards  —  decorative,  artistic,  beautiful  —  just  like  her.  the  cards,  with  enough  good  intention  and  energy,  could  help  her  bring  truths  to  light.  but  asking  the  right  question  isn’t  always  easy.  all  gifts  come  at  a  cost  and  this  gift  requires  wisdom  that  must  be  honed  over  years.  even  an  experienced  seer  may  misinterpret  that  which  she  does  not  understand.  

each  of  the  daughters  also  corresponds  with  one  of  the  three  faces  of  the  seven  that  typically  have  feminine  characteristics.  though  they  do  not  follow  the  faith,  they  make  appearances  as  though  they  do  so  they  may  blend  in  with  other  houses  who  do  not  embrace  the  old  ways,  especially  in  the  riverlands.  the  oldest  represents  the  crone,  the  middle  represents  the  mother,  and  the  youngest  represents  the  maiden.  

her  childhood  was  one  of  confusing,  vivid  dreams  and  intuition  too  sharp  for  a  small  child.  she  was  too  keen,  too  curious,  too  wild,  and  then  the  birth  of  her  little  sister  came  and  things  started  to  make  more  sense.  these  are  the  next  three,  the  children  once  more  keeping  their  promise.  gods  save  the  king.    

alyra  has  a  memory,  from  when  she  was  a  little  girl,  that  told  her  to  scatter  the  bones  on  the  ground.  not  to  clutch  on  to  what  she  knew  but  to  scatter  them  against  the  wind,  to  have  faith  in  what  they  would  say.  in  the  beginning  she  wanted  everything  to  have  a  meaning,  for  everything  to  be  structured,  and  to  have  a  clear,  individual  voice.  but  they  are  bones  and  for  all  their  rigidity,  they  were  fluid  in  meaning.  every  time,  they  might  change  their  tune  or  stop  speaking  completely.  alyra  learned  early  on  that  she  needed  to  find  her  own  way  of  listening,  one  of  those  methods  was  fire.  her  proclivity  for  fire  is  inherently  different  from  a  red  priestess.  she  did  not  see  the  lord  of  light  in  the  flames  or  understand  his  message  or  hear  his  voice.  instead,  fire  was  the  conduit  for  the  bones  and  the  noises  the  bones  make  as  they  burn  in  the  fire  is  as  important  as  the  bones  when  they’ve  been  pulled  from  the  fire.

she  was  twenty  when  the  red  wedding  happened  and  in  her  readings,  no  matter  the  question,  find  robb  stark  was  the  answer.  she  ignored  the  bones  as  much  as  she  could  because  she  was  scared.  her  elder  sister  told  alyra  that  she  must  find  robb  stark  before  lions  sleep  in  a  garden  of  roses.  some  meanings  were  thinly  veiled.  these  were  not.  it  was  when  alyra’s  younger  sister,  all  of  sixteen,  demands  that  she  go  that  alyra  finally  accepted.  weeks  of  ignoring  the  bones  and  time  further  spent  traveling  and  she  wondered  what  might  happen  when  she  finally  crossed  paths  with  the  northern  army.  a  young  woman  alone  on  horseback  was  not  the  cavalry  that  they  needed  but  the  mootons  were  loyal  to  house  stark  and  had  declared  for  them  long  before  she  had  finally  decided  to  ride  out.  the  bones  led  her  to  the  camp,  the  first  example  of  her  gifts.  

let  stannis  have  his  red  priestess.  the  children  of  the  forest  have  sent  their  gift.

OTHER COOL THINGS I PUT IN MY APP BUT DON’T HAVE A PLACE ABOVE: 

while i didn’t make a playlist, these are a couple of the songs that i listened to while creating alyra and her family. they’re not necessarily songs that she would listen to or enjoy, they have significantly influenced the build of her character and the way that i can understand her. 

this city → sam fischer

          the line that struck me the most: I remember mornings when my head didn't hurt / And I remember nights when art didn't feel like work           why it makes an impact: alyra was fresh to war when she joined the northern army. she knew the stories of victors and the way they spoke of the battles but they were so romanticized for her. they didn’t tell her of the carnage, of the blood stains that would never come out, of the way she’d see it all at night. though not desensitized to it entirely now, alyra has found her ways to cope. sometimes when she does too many readings in a row, when she’s desperate for answers that she’s not ready for, she might wake up with flu-like symptoms; aches in her bones, a quiet, thrumming pain in her head, and a grip on her heart that doesn’t relax. 

this feeling → the chainsmokers ft kelsi ballerini

          the line that struck me the most: i’ll tell you a story before it tells itself and they tell me think with my head, not that thing in my chest           why it makes an impact: when alyra is questioned, because there are certainly people who have accused her being a witch and i’m sure once in a while those accusations still fly, she has the same measured response, “i am of the land, the land is of me, and i can tell you what i see.” it has a similar energy to “i’ll tell you a story before it tells itself” and while some people might call her a hopeful child, she is confident in what she does and says. they tell her to think with her heart but they don’t know that cuts her off from her gift more than anything. she learned from a young age that overthinking the bones is the worst mistake she can make. her open heart is sensitive, but she is steadfast in her beliefs. gods save the people who try to convince her otherwise.

[juniperallura]

Woman King: Chapter Thirteen

ao3 / header art / playlist

Dear Lance,

I pray this letter finds you well, cousin. It has been nearly a fortnight since I last received news from you, and as it would be a fool’s errand to attempt to discern good or bad omens from nothing, I can only assume that you are resolving this matter at your own pace. The thought occurs to me— as glad as I would be to hear from you, I do hope that a letter of yours is not making its way to my court as I write this, only waiting until the wax of the seal dries to render these sentiments obsolete. Regardless of all this, I have a some recent developments of which I must inform you.

The most significant comes from the war front. We have been engaged in a series of skirmishes with the Galran generals, all of which are still ongoing but not entirely bleak in their prospects. However, a much more pressing obstacle has emerged; our efforts to preempt the arrival of the Galran Prince were for naught. Lotor has emerged from his exile in the North East and essentially taken his father’s place— curiously, though, there has not been a coronation. I am sure you are too young to remember the time before the war, when our kingdoms were at peace and he would accompany his father on visits to the Altean court. My own memories are vague, but I remember we played together in the garden while our fathers talked…. 

But I digress. Our troops briefly clashed along the base of the Komar Mountains, with a victory on our side. Now I have received a communication from the Prince himself. He desires a parley; beginning, apparently, with a meeting between the two of us. To what end he intends to pursue these talks, I am unsure. Naturally no one in the court trusts this tentative olive branch, but I have been sensing of late that victory may be within reach, and this could help to clear the path somewhat. Coran and I agree it is a risk, but it may be a valuable way to better discern his character. 

In other news, you will be interested to know that your Keith has received a promotion. He is now a member of my personal guard entourage, and is helping to coordinate my security detail as we prepare for this imminent meeting. I believe he is happy to be moved onto the project- Shiro sensed he was growing restless training the soldiers from the pitch. I know you will be worried for him as we move forward, but try to put yourself at ease. He is as capable a swordsman as I have ever seen, and I will do my best to ensure his safety, as he will mine. Busy as he has become, he did not have time enough to write you a letter, but I have included a note which he asked me to deliver to you. (He has a terrible scrawl, I haven’t the faintest idea how you can decipher it. Not that I peeked!)

I will confess that in these weeks my court has again become quite lonely. Of course I am occupied enough with this forsaken war, but I find myself missing your lighthearted presence. And Keith has informed you of Shiro’s quest, I am sure. All I have heard of him is a note dashed off as he reached the northern border, where he dares approach that Galran camp alone. I understand his sense of duty, but even the thought of losing him makes my hand tremble- can you see it in my script? I’m sure Shiro would point out the irony of that, given my own daunting situation. Still, my worry has not allowed me many- if any- a peaceful night.

Do you also sense change once again on the horizon?

My life is already so different than it was only five years ago, but I cannot shake the feeling that we are all at a crossroads. It is foreboding, and unsettling, but maybe there is also hope in the future.

Well, enough poetics. I will try to write again before I depart, but if I do not get the chance… I pray you are doing well in your parent’s court and that we may be happily reunited under my roof as soon as the fates permit. Wish me good fortune as I undertake this gamble, and hope that it is a fruitful one. 

Should something urgent arise, you may address your correspondence to Coran and he will be sure it reaches me. Give your family my regards.

All My Love,

Allura

For the first time in weeks, Lance felt light. The air was golden and warm, and his whole body felt enveloped by a familiar musk. He sighed and the arms that wrapped around his waist pulled him tighter. 

“I love you, Lance. I’ll never let you go.” Keith’s low whisper tickled his ear.

Lance reached out, his hands finding the side of Keith’s face. “Never,” he echoed. He smiled and Keith leaned in to kiss him. His lips were sweet like berry wine, their tender touch washing over Lance in a wave of joy. 

Then, before Lance could really savor the feeling, Keith pulled away. Lance reached to tug at his collar but Keith pushed his hand away. “It is starting, don’t you know?” Keith asked, boring into him with dark eyes. 

Lance blinked. He was standing on a street, at the edge of a large crowd. Knights marched past in glinting armor as the people let out a reverberating cry of victory. He recognized Keith and Shiro among the soldiers, each carrying a bejeweled crown. They approached a wide staircase at the end of the street, where Allura stood waiting. Shiro bowed to Keith, who placed the crown atop his head. Shiro then turned to Allura and did the same to her. The crowd cheered uproariously, and then abruptly fell silent. 

Lance blinked again. He was at the foot of the steps. Allura towered over him. Keith and Shiro were gone. He met her eyes, unnaturally blue, and felt a icy chill trace its way down his neck. “Where were you?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, “What were you doing? How can you stand by and watch?”

Lance opened his mouth to speak but suddenly Allura crumpled to the ground and the world went black.

His eyelids fluttered open, but the bright light made them feel like lead and they dropped closed again. A groan, muffled against the crook of his elbow, escaped him as he vaguely registered a pressure on his shoulder. His mind longed to drop back into inky unconsciousness but whatever force was pitching his shoulder back and forth dragged him back into that light, now coming in through the cracks in his squinting eyes. There was a noise, distant and unintelligible at first but growing louder and more distinct by the second.

“-Lord Prince, you must wake up! Your sister is here.”

Lance sucked in a breath, propping himself heavily against his elbow. He blinked against the morning light, Miri’s looming face still fuzzy.  “Tell Allura she can wait,” he mumbled, dragging a hand down his face.

His chambermaid’s face came into tighter focus, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Prince Lance, your sister.”

He followed her gaze over to his bedroom doorway, where his youngest sister stood looking at him with wide eyes and a tight frown. Lance sat up fully. His dawning consciousness brought back the memory of his odd dream, and with it a growing pit in his stomach.  He shook his head, running a hand over his face to wipe away his disorientation. “Oh, Sophia-” He pushed aside his covers, inhaling and exhaling quickly. “What’s- is something wrong?” 

Sophia wrung her hands together. “Not quite, it’s only…we need to talk. Will you walk with me?”

Lance frowned, rubbing at his eyes. “Yes, of course, just- give me a moment-”

A few minutes later he emerged, washed and dressed, from his bedchamber to find Sophia waiting in the sitting room. He paused in the doorway, momentarily struck by the sight of her. Gone were the days when she would flop unabashedly onto his couch, skirts laying wildly as she twisted about, chattering on about this and that. Gone were the tightly spiraling ringlets that bounced beside a round face. The girl before him was perched gracefully at the edge of the couch, quietly smoothing the skirts that flowed from a corseted bodice. Her face, thinner now, with prominent cheek bones like their mother, was framed by loose, careful curls, secured in the back by a blue bow. Her features had an almost mature set to them, like a preemptive echo of the future. She was beautiful— and somehow, that stirred a sentimental kind of melancholy deep in Lance’s chest. 

“-Lance?” Sophia looked up at him, and Lance was relieved to see the same earnest look in her round, blue eyes. It was as if all her words, rather than tumbling out of her mouth like a waterfall, had begun to pool in her gaze, bright and expressive. 

“I’m sorry,” Lance shook his head, walking over to take her hand in his, “I just cannot believe how much you’ve grown. It’s like I left you a little caterpillar and I come back to find you a butterfly.”

“Oh, stop,” Sophia chided, although she smiled widely, “You sound as if you’re giving me away on my wedding day.” She stood, something in her smile faltering into bittersweetness. “But I suppose much has changed in your absence. You heard about Avin, I’m sure?”

He nodded, his gaze momentarily dropping to the floor. Avin, who had been one of his closest confidants for all those years. He remembered their goodbye, the feeling that nothing, not time nor distance, could come between them. By the end of the first year, their letters had dwindled from weekly to monthly. By the end of the second they had stopped completely. Six months ago he had received news, written formally and awkwardly, that she had been married. His sisters informed him that she now lived with her husband in the southern region of the kingdom, within the ranks of some lower court. “Yes, I heard,” Lance sighed, “I’m sure she is very happy.” Sophia squeezed his elbow, probably sensing his discomfort. He forced a smile. “But enough reminiscing— what is so pressing that you had to drag me out of bed?”

“Well,” she chewed on her lip, “It was not me, so much as Nat…”

Sophia pulled at his arm but Lance stood fast, frowning at the thought. “Natalia? You mean she has been giving me the cold shoulder since my arrival, and now she is using you as a carrier pigeon?”

She tugged again at his wrist, clearly anxious to have the matter settled. “Well, Elena said their quarters have more privacy, and you would-” 

Lance scoffed. His twin sisters, younger than he and older than Sophia by three years, could never be one without the other. Elena in particular could let nothing happen without her nose stuck in the middle of it. He and Natalia had been close, once upon a time, but Elena had always been too concerned about their parent’s approval for them to be anything more than civil. Still, Lance had thought it odd when Nat refused to say even a word to him upon his return; and that Elena was conspiring to weasel her way into the conversation now that she did want to talk meant something was afoot. 

“Alright, alright,” he sighed, “Lead the way.”

He followed his sister through the winding corridors until she ushered him into the large quarters that Natalia and Elena still shared. Although the spring day was warm enough there was a bright fire in the hearth, where girls were sitting together on a plush couch. 

It was obvious they had been talking about him; when he entered their heads snapped toward the door and they fell immediately into silence. They were wearing coordinating dresses and their hair was done in the same braided bun, giving their movements an unnervingly synchronized quality.

Lance met their eyes with a stony expression, spreading his hands palm up. “Sophie said you needed to speak with me, so— here I am.”

Natalia rose briefly, gesturing toward the chairs across from her. “Yes, thank you for coming, Lance.” As she sank back down she began to wring her hands over her lap. “Listen- I know we have not always been on the best of terms, and I wanted to say that I am sorry for that. Especially for how I have treated you these past few weeks-”

“You mean how you blatantly ignored me?” Lance raised a brow, “Yes, that was certainly a warm welcome home.”

Elena shot him a dirty look but Natalia grimaced, twisting her fingers together even tighter. “I know, I know, that was horrible and petty, especially in light of-” She sighed and covered her face with her hands. For a moment Lance thought she was crying, but then she gripped her knees and met his gaze with a sudden determination. “Lance, there is something I must confess to you. I should have spoken up sooner, but I- I am in love with Reina’s brother.”

Reina. His faceless betrothed. Lance had tried to shove the thought of her down whenever he could, but the word felt like a knife to the gut. Of course his mind went immediately to Keith, and how every time someone said her name it was like another betrayal of him. But then he processed what Natalia had said. “You- you’re in love with her brother?” Lance blinked.

“Max,” Elena cut in with an almost gleeful undertone.

“Y-yes, Max. We met at the solstice ball, last winter, and he has been writing me ever since, secretly, of course, and he- he said he wanted to propose, but then Mother and Father arranged the marriage for you and Reina, and he does not want to go against his parents, and I- I hated you for it—”

Sophia jumped up to put her arm around Natalia as her words caught in her throat with a shaky breath.

Lance frowned, his brow knitting. Distant as he and his sister may have been, he understood her pain all too well. “I feel for you, Nat, really. And believe me when I say that I do not wish this marriage for myself. I have been searching for some way to convince Father to dissolve the engagement, but so far- nothing.” Lance dragged a hand down his face, his chest tightening as a wave of helplessness washed over him. Images from his dream came flooding back, the phantom pressure of Keith’s kiss tingling against his lips. The situation couldn’t be hopeless. He had a promise to keep. But what could he do?

Natalia buried her head in her hands as her sisters rubbed her back sympathetically. “I would pay anything to change this,” she said through another shuddering sigh.

Suddenly an idea stuck him like a bolt of lightening. “That could be it!” Lance cried, leaping out of his seat. His sisters met his wild eyes with confusion, but he was too agitated to stop and explain. “Tonight, at dinner- you’ll see! It could work! There might be hope!” Sophia stood to try and sit him down, but he just grinned at her, laying a hand on either side of her head and smacking a kiss against her forehead. “Until dinner,” he called, already halfway out of the room.

“-A preposterous plan,” his brother scoffed. Leo, sitting at the left hand of their father. Evidently he had gained some confidence in the past three years, after taking their eldest brother’s place as the King’s echo. It suited him in an unfortunate kind of way. Alexander, two years Leo’s senior, had graduated to carrying out their father’s will in his own estate with his new bride. Flat and cold as he was, Lance thought his oldest brother had at least played the role with a modicum of dignity. Leo was a pompous idiot with none of Alexander’s grace.

Their father held up his hand. All heads, which had been turning between Lance and Leo like a volley, snapped to him. He gazed at Lance coolly. “Enough. The matter is not up for debate, or negotiation. It has already been settled.”

His mother set down her glass, giving him a pitying smile. “To set up the marriage between them- you do not understand what you propose, Lance. Max is their eldest son-” She glanced at Natalia- “And with your sister’s dowry, the trade would be quite uneven, you see?” Nat took a slow sip from her goblet, as if pretending she hadn’t heard.

Lance gripped the arm of his chair with white knuckles, his jaw clenched as it had been for all of dinner. His father’s detachment, his brother’s dismissal, his mother’s condescension- it all grated against his nerves until they were raw and frayed. And now, to see Natalia avert her eyes while their mother insinuated that she would not be worth the marriage? Thoughts of countless conversations, off hand comments, petty jabs from their parents came back to him. Sophia had mused that much had changed at court while he was away, but in fact, he was realizing, nothing had changed. Nothing at all. His parents were always weighing the worth of their children, like gold with which to barter. Voices seemed to swirl around him, closing in like dark fog- Allura’s challenge, issued so long ago, to be more, the solemn oath he made to Keith before his departure, the question in his dream that still haunted him. How can you stand by and watch? 

Suddenly, the pounding in his veins stilled with a moment of clarity.

Lance sat forward, meeting his father’s eyes with a new determination. “-Then I will tip the scales. Take my inheritance, however much is necessary. I will sell my possessions, even, if that would add enough to her dowry as to make the marriage viable.”

Every member of his family stared at him with wide eyes. Natalia covered her mouth with her hand. His father set down his goblet, slowly and deliberately, his mouth pulling into a scowl. “What is the meaning of this?” His voice nearly shook with anger, “You would really go to such lengths to disobey me?”

“This has nothing to do with you, Father.” Lance caught Natalia’s eyes, gleaming with hope. A flood of warmth and courage washed over him. He thought of Allura, comforting him even as she bore the fate of the kingdom on her shoulders. He thought of Keith, always pushing and giving even though the world had already taken so much from him. They were right- he needn’t be afraid. He clenched his fist and stood. “I do not consent to marry Reina. I will not be a pawn in some petty alliance, and I will not deprive Natalia of the one she loves.” Then Lance said something that even surprised himself. “I am leaving tonight, returning to Queen Allura’s court to- to train with her archers and help coordinate the military effort. I will no longer stand idly by. This is my decision, it is final.”

Before he could change his mind, Lance turned and left his family at the table. 

Lance could at least consider himself lucky to have an understanding chambermaid. He was shaking when he returned to his quarters, where Miri had not expected him for another hour. All that happened spilled from him in a wild rush of words; but when he informed her that they must make all their journey’s preparations that night she didn’t say a word, only pressed a motherly kiss to his forehead and told him to change into his travel clothes.

As he was tucking some final items into his trunk, a familiar figure appeared again in his doorway. “You are really leaving?” Sophia asked, surveying the chaos of the room with wide, somber eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sophie.” Lance beckoned her close, a frown pulling at his lips. “I did not intend to cut our time together short, after so long apart, but I- I have to.”

She said with him on the edge of the trunk, turning his hand over in hers. “I have not seen you so serious about anything since you tried to convince Mother to stop your mathematics tutoring,” she murmured, smiling softly. “You must have really been touched by what Natalia said.”

Lance bit his lip, clasping her hand with a sigh. He met her gaze, earnest and questioning, and found himself again compelled by a twinge in his chest. “Well, actually- there is something more to my motives which I must confess…” He squeezed her hand, leaning in and speaking low. “But Sophie, you must promise me that this will stay between us. That is very important. Not even Natalia can know, and certainly not anyone else in the family. Understand?”

His sister swallowed, nodding solemnly. “Of course, Lance. I promise.”

“Thank you. You see, Nat is not the only one in love. I could not marry Reina because there is someone else, at Allura’s court, whom- whom I wish to marry.” His hands started trembling at the words. He sucked in a breath, whispering, “His name is Keith, and I love him.”

Sophia’s lip dropped, her gaze glazing over and then flashing with understanding. “H-he? You mean-?”

Lance nodded slowly. “Yes.” A smile curled over his lips as he continued, “And Sophie, he’s…everything and nothing I could have ever dreamed. He’s the most exceptional swordsman in the kingdom. He’s brash and impulsive, he’s driven, he’s fierce, but kind, intelligent, and he’s brave, so brave, and- and-”

“Oh, Lance-” 

He hadn’t even realized he was crying until Sophia threw her arms around his neck and the hot tears that coursed down his cheeks began to soak into her shoulder. “He is risking his life, for all of us,” he said through a shuddering breath, muffled against the fabric of her dress, “I must do something or I’ll- I’ll-”

Sophia just nodded, clinging to him harder until Miri came and knocked gently on the door frame. “Lord Prince, the preparations are finished. We may depart whenever you are ready.”

Lance pulled away, composing himself with a sharp sigh. He wiped the moisture from his eyes and managed a smile. “Well then, I guess I should be off. Thank you, Sophia. You’ll be sure to write me, yes?”

“Of course, brother.” Her head bobbed wildly as she squeezed his hand one last time. “And Lance-” She looked up at him with gleaming eyes. “What you did, what you are doing- it’s the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Lance met her smile, a surge of warmth rising in his veins. He leaned down to kiss the crown of her head. “Goodbye, Sophie.”

Soon after, Lance was staring out the window of his carriage into the inky blackness of passing wilderness, the figures of Sophia and Natalia waving him off long swallowed by the night. Despite the knot that tied itself in his stomach whenever his thoughts turned to the uncertain future, there was a lightness in his chest that Lance never experienced leaving his parent’s court before. It was different from the false, alluring bliss of his dream. It was pride, and hope. He would be with Keith. He would build something with his life. He would help win the war. Lance smiled.

A sudden lurch pulled him from his reverie. He blinked at his guards. “Why have we stopped?”  

Just as the words left his mouth, a convoy guard approached; he rapped on the carriage window, his expression tight in the lantern light. As the door opened, the sound of thundering horse hooves faded into the distance behind them. “Lord Prince, we have just intercepted a messenger, who continues urgently on to the court of your parents,” the guard reported, offering a quick bow. As he spoke, the pit in Lance’s stomach began to feel like ice. “Evidently the advancement of our departure for Queen Allura’s court was fortunate-”

“Out with it!” Lance cried, “What is going on?”

“Well, Lord Prince-” The guard’s expression faltered momentarily- “Queen Allura has been shot.”

[thebandcampdiaries]

God Moore the Elixir - Passport: Ego Sum Qui Sum

God Moore the Elixir is more than just your average hip-hop artist. Unlike so many modern rappers who just chase trends and copy the lyrical styles of the most trending artists at any given time, he developed a thoughtful and personal sound. His rap flow is deeply tied to the art of parablism, that is,  verbally projecting thoughts or ideas to the listener. He managed to accomplish that by exploring a vast array of topics, and concepts that have the power to really connect with the audience.

Recently, the artist released a brand new album titled “Passport: Ego Sum Qui Sum.” This record denotes a really special approach to production, with a sound that feels clear and sophisticated, yet warm and organic.

This astonishing release features 9 studio tracks, each blurring the lines between different sonic aesthetics and creative directions. The first song on the set list is titled “Chess Move.” Much like it requires some thought to come up with the perfect chess move to win a game, this track is filled with clever lyrics and searing topics, igniting the listener with a witty spark of intelligent songwriting. “WYFW (Catch Me On The Way Back)” is a great song, which combines its unapologetic lyricism with a really dense and organic background track. “So Kosher 1.0” combines a sharp lyrical flow with a beat that has a nice old-school vibe, making for a gritty, yet melodic approach. This song has a modern and polished production, which really allows the mix to stand out for its clarity and depth. On the next track, “GNLFY”, there is even room for a stellar collaboration with Glance Conway, who helped shape this song into something that truly stands out. The 5th track on this release is a song named “Focus 1.0 (Without The Blind Eyes)” and it stands out for its golden age flair. I love the combination of cross-cultural references and classic hip-hop grooves! In addition to that, “Facade (P.B.S)” is yet another lyrically strong track, which actually ties right into the concept of the next song, “So Racist.” The subject of this release speaks for itself, and this song really stands out as a strong title, a very unapologetic look at some of the world’s most controversial issues in this day and age. The next song, “Passport 1.0 (Krill & Steak)” is one of the best tracks on the album, with its catchy melodies and intelligent composition. On this one, the low end is really fat and punchy, while the mid-range is warm, but never harsh. In addition to that, the top end has a nice, silky tone that really contributes to a smooth sounding mix that puts the vocals at the forefront. Last, but definitely not least, “From Predecess To Tha Predeceed” serves as a perfect curtain closer, reiterating what this album is really supposed to be all about! This song in particular showcases the artist’s personal philosophy and spiritual beliefs, from a truly interesting point of view. It’s a deeper reflection on faith, identity, and more. 

One of the most interesting and striking features of this release is definitely its remarkable consistency. Not many artists can easily pull off a project that features such a wide variety of elements and influences. The most obvious risk is that the material can end up sounding quite disconnected and loose - but this is definitely not the case.  

God Moore the Elixir is a master at creating organic, cohesive and consistent vibes, which really flow well throughout the span of this release. The performances are loaded with passion and integrity, while the production aesthetics are also excellent. The mixing quality is indeed absolutely world-class, with some amazing definition in the top end and lots of punch in the low-end and midrange. The results sound warm and present, yet never harsh or fatiguing, which is quite an amazing achievement, particularly in this genre! With this release, the artist really made a point to set the bar higher, not only for himself, but also for his listeners, genuinely delivering something that’s catchy and direct, yet forward-thinking and challenging in the best possible way.

Ultimately, this is an album for pioneers. For the forward-thinkers who like honest and meaningful music that’s more art than entertainment!

Find out more about God Moore the Elixir and listen to this release:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_k5ghJQF0RUxdt--KT_aD-sZ9seUs9giOc

We also had the chance to catch up with this talented artist. Keep reading for a full interview!

I love how you manage to render your tracks so personal and organic. Does the melody come first, or do you focus on the beat the most?

My appreciations and thank you for the review you constructed of my album.  You’re truly exceptional at what you do.

You know, you're the first to ask me that in an interview....there are times when other artists make fair and welcomed attempts to extract an idea by asking how I structure my lyrics or what gave me the idea for a track.   Quite frankly, there are times in which I let the beat tell me a story and I correspond with one similar, but verbally....that approach is literally no different from indulging in a cordial conversation with someone who shares a similar view.   That's a conversation that'll take you off schedule and make you a few minutes late to your intended destination.   Other times, the rhythm of life brings forth that which is within the subconscious.   An example would be when you arrive at that destination and don't recall the duration of the drive itself because of mental activity; the time within the drive granted the mind the perfect opportunity to reflect, explore, and bestow the findings to the conscious....I hope that answer is fitting enough.

Do you perform live? If so, do you feel more comfortable on a stage or within the walls of the recording studio?

Yes, but not as often as my peers and others think I should.  I'm quite comfortable in both.  It's been a while since I actually performed on stage.  Like over 10 years.  I took a well-deserved hiatus to work on separating the mentality I developed while deployed as a contractor overseas.   I won't go into the content of my service, but once I returned, I had to really look at what I had become.  Returning to the things I left during the first deployment wasn't a difficult transition because my time there was like a vacation....but the others were a little different....there was a change that I didn't want to be a constant within my identity....so it takes time to truly analyze yourself and be blatantly honest with yourself about yourself....10 years may sound a bit extensive to some, but it was necessary.  And even with that passage of time, the stage is nothing foreign nor are the sound-proof walls of a studio.

If you could only pick one song to make a “first impression” on a new listener, which song would you pick and why?

It would, hands down, have to be From Predecess To Tha Predeceed and quite frankly, it's not difficult to understand why if who I am is attributed wisely.  FPTTP is an accurate portrayal of identity greater than my observation of an individual, individuals, or an event for inspirational purposes, writing from the position of someone else and projecting what my primitive reaction would be upon aligning with the lesser of choices, or me just having a moment of raw grit because a memory ensued for whatever reason (which is normally to maintain a healthy balance of personal cohesiveness)....FPTTP is what I Am from a point of what I can accurately articulate....some things (thoughts, feelings, emotions, aspects of self, experiences, etc.) can't be explained because there are no words to explain or fully describe them.  The articulation of such findings remain sacred until another is met who are operating on or within a similar frequency....and the connection is apparent but nonverbal.  All other attempts to express may provide some degree of minute reference. Nonetheless, they will always fall short of exactness.

What does it take to be “innovative” in music?

Innovation - as well as the opportunity to be innovative - is always in existence.   From the standpoint of creating music, the opportunities are just as apparent.  Being alert of your direct atmosphere/environment (what's happening around you) and staying aware of what your mind is manifesting (what's happening within you) at all times indefinitely, like, really being in tune with what is being imparted to you from your higher faculties and recognizing at that very moment that this is God Mode (a moment of creation), is ideal.  Honestly, innovation is inward and dormant until the perfect circumstances occur to awaken it.  So all it takes are the tools to pinpoint it for further crafting and the desire to allow it to manifest for universal utilization.  And the amazing truth about these tools is that they are already within you.

Any upcoming release or tour your way?

Yes to the releases, and not at current on the tour front.  But to all my supporters, globally, I will be looking forward to making the Passport Tour official soon, so don't fret.  I want to take time to be fair to this venture I have finally accepted as ordained.  Let those that listen and support me and my art have adequate time to “see with their ears” before the visual entertainment aspect is approached.  That's out of respect and love for my supporters and exercising patience so every box is checked and no stones are skipped on my behalf. Pebbles are perfect for skipping, but if you skip a stone in life, you'll only get so far before you'll have to return to it, so if I'm going to do it, I'm going to make certain it's done right.  I’m not going anywhere; we’ll have a lifetime to connect.

As for upcoming releases, I recognize from projections that the bulk of my fan base and supporters (quite naturally) have been women.  So Kosher 2.0 will be liberated this fall along with J.C.L (Just Can't Leave).  Both were completed (the rough mixes) in 2015 so I have an archive of content.  To expound a bit on what I consider my archive, I've been writing quality lyrics since 1997 and there hasn't been a year that I haven't written at least 8 songs.  Some years begat upwards of 20, but never have I fallen below 8.  Now, as for performing, I had to extract myself from it and it's not like I was well known during that time, but life took its course and some things were put on hold.  Writing was never one of them.  I share this to inform my supporters that I have a lot of content to put out that will be somewhat toxic if released "as is"; it is who I was at whatever time period I created it....I didn't become The Elixir overnight.  But those experiences I was blessed to fulfill equates to the God Moore I am at current.

Anywhere online where curious fans can listen to your music and find out more about you?

Indeed, I'm on every major music and streaming platform globally for those who wish to listen to my art which can be found on Spotify, Tidal, Pandora, Deezer, YouTube Music, Amazon Music, iTunes, Apple Music, you name it, I'm there. Hopefully, we can provide a few quick links for convenience after the interview is concluded.

Also, if you are a supporter, you are considered a member of the New Freedom Guild.  Don’t be hesitant in connecting with me.  I’m not on all social platforms, so the connections will be more personal.  Link with me anytime and when I’m able and time is ample enough, I’ll respond whether it be directly or live.  God Moore is more than a name....it's a movement for positive growth and universal evolution.  My ulterior motives extend well beyond the realm of music….when you’re given the mental capacity to upgrade and change the world for the betterment of mankind, and you’re provided a platform and a supportive following, you may tend to cater to obedience.  Within the facets extending from forward-thinking to technological advancements, my impressions will manifest.  In time, the revelation of this claim will be appreciated.  Love you all.  I humbly do this for ALL.

Health, Peace, and Prosperity.

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[ladysonder]

Bloom - Prologue

AN - Hey there! So, you’re welcome to read this (rather extensive) author’s note of mine, but thank you for stopping by! This will be my very first fanfiction that I’ve ever written, and instead of easing myself into things I decided to tackle a proper story from the get-go. I must admit...I found it quite amusing at first when I saw where I drew my inspiration to write from in the first place. I never could’ve imagined I would write a BTS fanfiction of all things! Timeline-wise, this story starts around the beginning of September 2016, and if you’ve been following BTS since then, you’ll recognize them in a lot of real-life events. I’ve tried to stay as true to it as possible in the beginning, but it will start deviating as the story goes along. Unlike most fanfictions I’ve read in this particular fandom, I opted for an OC to star along the guys. It’s not a popular choice of course, but it was mainly because I failed horribly at writing something from the first-person narrative, aaaand where I constantly had to use “Y/N”. There was a lot of thought put into my main OC, so I hope you guys grow to like her. For the majority of the chapters, I will include a title of a song I strongly recommend the reader to listen to as they read. They portray the mood of the corresponding chapter, and they were all carefully selected. I might create a playlist at some point, but for now I want to concentrate on completing the story. This is going to be slow burn story, so I hope you stick around. Very frustrating and fluffy in the beginning, but the angst isn’t too far off. English is not my first language, and I proofread all the stuff myself so you must forgive me if there are any errors ^^” Constructive criticism and reviews are always welcome. The quick cover art sketch for ‘Bloom’ (as seen above), was drawn by me as well. Done in PS5. SO! Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get right into it shall we? <3 ------------------------------------*✲*PAGEBREAK*✲*------------------------------------ -Prologue- Theme song: Jonathan Morali - Golden Hour Idly sipping on the cooling beverage in her hand whilst glancing at the blank screen of her phone, Lily Paterson was quickly losing all patience with her current situation. She was waiting on a call from a friend, nervously tapping away on the table she was seated at. Looking at the open screen of her laptop in front of her, she nearly missed the cafe door opening, allowing a group of three young men inside. Peering at them over the rim of her cup, she vaguely recognized them. Gasping in realization and nearly choking on her tea, she shuffled through the small heap of papers laying scattered next to her computer. She hastily scrambled through them until she found a folder containing a few photos.Yes, it was them alright. Glancing at them and wondering where the others might be, she accidentally made eye contact with one of them. He had blonde hair now, instead of the jet black that was in the photo she was given. Why Sejin would give her an outdated photo was beyond her. He was looking at her rather intently, and she fought the instinct to check whether or not she had something on her face or managed to mess something on her clothing. She momentarily looked down at herself, nearly jumping out of her seat when her phone finally rung.

Her sudden movement and the noise of her ringtone must've startled the elderly lady seated a few tables away, as she shot a disapproving glare in the sound's direction. Lily pointedly ignored the old lady's grumbling, answering her phone on a rush.

"Sejin! What the devil took you so long!? I've been waiting almost the whole morning on your call!" she hissed over the line, shifting slightly lower in her seat in an attempt to hide behind her laptop's screen.

Two of the young men were now looking in her direction, whilst the third placed an order at the register.

"Sorry about that, the meeting took a little bit longer than I thought it would. I just arrived at the dorms to check on the guys. Sent a few of them on a coffee run in the meantime...did you manage to go over the documents?" Sejin asked quietly.

"Wha...? Yeah I did, I have them here with me. Signed and sealed. Speaking of the coffee run, three of your guys just waltzed into the shop I am sitting in. Great job on that one..." she said sarcastically, groaning inwardly when she saw all of them taking seats at the table across from her.

"They did? Shit, I didn't think you were already here. You're gonna have to give me a few minutes with them before you come over, please. Think you can do that?" he said, sounding slightly panicked.

"I wasn't going to wait any longer Sejin. The sooner we can get this over and done with, the happier I'll be. I do have work to do, and a coffee shop isn't all that conducive to my workflow. Too many bloody distractions." Lily said, shooting an annoyed look at the group of men who were now chatting rather loudly.

The guy she recognized from the photos glanced up at her again, his eyes widening slightly when he noticed the irritable expression on her face before she shifted her gaze to one of the windows to her right.

"I understand. Just wait until they leave, and I'll send you a text when you can come through. You have the address I sent you?" Sejin asked.

"Yes I do. Just...make it quick, would you?" she asked, rubbing at her temples in a distracted manner. The day was really just turning out to be one massive waiting game, and she had never been the patient type.

"Are you alright....? I mean, for now..." he asked, concern lacing his voice.

"Yes...now stop fussing please. I'll be on the lookout for your text." she said, not waiting for his response before ending the call. She almost felt bad for snapping at him, but her head was pounding at this point and the strong smell of coffee wasn't helping.

Putting her phone down and propping her chin on one of her hands, she stared blankly out of the shop's front whilst trying to ignore the nausea her headache was starting to induce. Feeling the prickle of someone watching her, her vision focused and realized she'd been essentially staring through the head of one the guys that had moved in the way of her view of the street outside.

It just had to be the one with the blonde hair, yet again. And he was now watching her with a distrustful look, probably thinking she was some foreign stranger that couldn't stop staring dreamily at him.

Fantastic.

She shot him a defiant glare of her own, and sat back in her chair whilst crossing her arms. His two friends whispered to him, probably asking him what he was looking at, before he nodded his head slightly in her direction.

Three sets of eyes locked onto her, and she fought the desire to shift uncomfortably in her seat. Her eyes narrowed into slits when the other light-haired guy stood up, slowly walking over to her table.

Thankfully she was saved by the barista, calling their order number. They hurried over to the counter, now thankfully ignoring her and finally left the cafe with their drinks. A heavy sigh of relief left her lips as soon as the cafe door swung shut.

Twenty minutes came and went with no text in sight. Muttering angrily under her breath, she just decided to go ahead and pack up anyway. Cursing when a few of her papers tumbled to the ground, she gingerly crouched down to gather them up, but paused when she saw a now-familiar face peek up at her from the thin folder Sejin had given her in the week before.

Slowly lifting the paper that listed a few personal details about the person in the photo, a rueful smile worked itself onto her face. She was pretty sure she hadn't made a good impression on him and his friends, but knowing how much more drama she had yet to go through that day...well, she just couldn't find it within herself to care much.

She stuffed the last of the papers messily into her laptop bag and marched out of the cafe, glancing at her phone for directions before steering off quickly towards the end of the street. ------------------------------------*✲*PAGEBREAK*✲*------------------------------------