#i’ve been wanting to do pink or lavender for such a long time

[andersonlore]

SWEET RELIEF (MINORS DNI / EIGHTEEN+)

notes. this request is a beautiful, god send. i've been wanting to write about this, but i've kinda been too scared to bc i wasn't sure if anyone would like it. nonnie, u made my week with this request nd i really hope it doesn't disappoint. i changed it a little bit, but not too much. yeahhhhh, i might be ovulating bc?????? anyways.

content desc. eighteen+, huge mommy!kink, sub!abby, dom!reader, masc coded!reader, tall!reader (coded) my lil shorties can still read it too, reader picks up abby, brief mention of reader working out, oral (abby!r), anal (just spit on), fingering, mentions of strap use, squirting, light degradation.

“you’ve been such a good girl. you deserve a reward, don’t you?” your stunner of a girlfriend was bare in front of you. she’s your personal adonis, every muscle sculpted to perfection. her abs clenching, anticipating what your next move would be. freckles scattered around her body, her pierced nipples were so sensitive from all the teasing, swollen and pink, just the way you liked them. abby’s moans were erratic, shallow breaths as you touched her everywhere except where she needs most.

“baby, please. need you to fuck me…so good. jus’ like you always do. you’re pretty little mouth, yeah? need you to taste me.” abby begged as her she found herself shivering. “i’ve been so good, so so good. i didn’t touch myself the entire two weeks you were gone. i’ll do anything, say anything. i just want you to fuck me.”

“you will, won’t you? my babygirl is so desperate to be fucked? isn’t that right?” you flick her clit with your digit. abby cries out your name, deprived of your touch for two weeks, she savors in every moment.

“god, you’re the only one who can make me come. couldn’t even if i tried without you.” as sweet and sensitive as she appears, intentional hands reach for your belt tugging at it, but you slap abby’s hands away.

“nothing is coming off until i make you cum at least….twice on my tongue. does that sound good, baby?” abby eagerly nods, not wanting to per long this any further.

you’re looking her dead in the eye, before your hands wrap around her thighs and pick her up, surprising your girl in the process.

“have you been working out?” you shrug like it’s nothing. abby leans in softly, her lips pressed against yours. she’s never been more attracted to you than she is right now. her strong legs are wrapped around your waist, clinging on as your throw her on the bed.

you climb onto to the bed with her, grabbing ahold of her hips and rotating her body so abby is sitting on her calves, legs bent, sculpted back facing you. she’s fucking divine, as she sits patiently waiting for your touch to guide her. you drinking in her beauty and for the first time, drowning has never sounded so lovely. pretty girl perfectly still for you. there’s nothing more than you need to fuck her so stupid. her cute eyebrows furrowed whenever you ask her question. abby does it when she tries to focus, but all that happens after is stuttering, maybe a fragment of a sentence, before she’s begging to let her come.

tonight isn’t going to be any different. she knows it as you sit behind her, your legs spread so her frame fits, but she doesn’t lean back. abby knows from experience you’ll punish her if she does.

“baby, i don’t think you’ve ever been this good.” you slowly undo the braid cascading down her back. her hair smiles of pine and lavender. you want to drown yourself in the scent.

abby keeps her hands at her sides, but you can tell she’s struggling. her strong hands are balled into fists, knuckles practically pearly white.

“now, bend over for me and show me your pretty hole, baby. show me what belongs to me.” you slap her ass as you lean on your hands, watching her follow your command.

the arc in her back is sinful as she supports her weight on her hands, her knees pressed against the mattress, her pretty pussy is deliciously wet. you’re itching for a taste, but not until you’ve got her a whimpering, pathetic mess.

you bent over her frame, your clothed body pressed against her exposed one. you whisper in abby’s ear, “does mommy have to show you how it’s done? apparently you’ve forgotten, babygirl.”

you create some space before placing a firm hand on her neck, planting her face first in the plush duvet. your hands trails down her spine, pressing enough so she gets the idea. abby arches her back like she’s a fucking pornstar and god you eat it up. she could turn her strength on you, the two of you know that, but she wants to shut her brain off and get fucked and you’ll happily oblige.

you kick her thighs apart further. abby whines but she doesn’t argue.

“babygirl, that’s what i’m talking about. just stay, just like this.” you slap her ass and she jolts forward, her moan caught by the duvet. your hand smooths over the skin, before slapping her again. “good girl. fuck yeah you are. hmm?”

you spit in her puckered hole, your saliva slides down and flows over her cunt. abby wants to just fuck you, wants to full her pussy on yours, she’s so sweet and you’re being a tease. it’s torture. pure fucking torture, but she just has to patient. you’re always so good to her. she knows she’ll get it eventually after you make her cum, but fuck she’s impatient and she wants it now.

for now, all she can do is beg.

“yes mommy, all yours.” abby manages to get out and you slap her cunt as a reward.

“want me to eat out this pretty cunt out? wanna feel my mouth make a mess of this pussy?” abby cries at your words, hands she loves touching the back of her thighs, inside of them, but never where she’s dripping for you.

“please, please, please. i need it so bad. you have no idea how much i missed you, mommy. couldn’t stop thinking about this.”

“thinking about what? tell me babygirl, don’t spare a single detail. you know how much i love hearing you pretty voice, abs.” you kiss her ass, as she struggles to continue. your teeth biting into her well earned glutes and you love to see the shiver wrack her body as she struggles to collect her thoughts.

“i thought about your fingers, how good they feel inside me. i-i thought about when you fucked me the last time, your cunt rubbing against mine and how good it felt. how i squirted all over you and fuck how you just keep going.” abby moaned, overcome with just the thought. “but i mainly thought about your tongue, your mouth sucking on my clit, fucking my pussy as you talk me through it.”

there it was, the soft sniffles clueing you to the tears streaming down her full cheeks. now, you could fucking ruin her.

your plump lips found home on her pussy, soft flicks of your tongue made purchase on her clit. abby was relieved at the sensation. you flattened your tongue against her vulva, her hips rotating so she was riding your skilled muscle. euphoria, it’s all abby felt. all she wanted to feel was this.

she could cum from this alone, but your middle and ring finger found her entrance easily, no resistance was met as you slide them inside her.

“mommy, you feel so good inside me. ah, yeah, right there. oh god, yes, yes, oh mommy. please don’t stop.”

“stop? is that what you said?”

“no! please…i-i need you to make me cum. please make me cum.”

“you think you deserve it?” you taunted abby, moaning against her pussy as your slurped up her sweet nectar, sending a shockwave through abby’s core.

your fingers are hitting the delicious spot deep in her pussy, and you’re hitting it over and over, not relenting for a moment. your tongue joins the whole with fingers for a moment, dipping in and it’s just enough to send abby reeling. not enough to make her cum, but she’s screaming your name, so loudly you wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors abby woke up your neighbors.

“tell me how good it feels, babygirl. yeah? maybe then i’ll let you come.” you command her.

“it feels amazing, mommy. i can’t get enough of it. fucking me so good, so perfect. love being your good little slut. let you do whatever, whenever, just please don’t stop. i’m getting so close.”

“yeah, are you going to cum all over my face? on my tongue?” you grab at her clit with your lips, pulling the bud into your mouth, before flicking it over with your tongue. you circle around the pearl, isolating as you suck on it. your fingers picking up the pace brutally.

abby sounds like an angel being drained by a succubus and maybe it’s what you were. your undergarments were ruined as you humping, well nothing, because this is what it did to you. when abby got off, so did you. she’s so close, you know she is.

you pull from her clit, your thumb doing the work for you so you can press against her frame and whisper in her ear, “cum for me babygirl. yeah? that’s right. squirt all over my fingers like i know you can. such a pretty girl, aren’t you? give it to me, baby. cum right now and i’ll ride your face tonight? c’mon angel, give it to me. right now.”

she does. all over your sinful fingers, she squirts and she gushes over over you as you fuck her through. “oh baby, you’re so good. such a perfect babygirl for me.” abby’s hips ride your fingers as her body wants to collapse, but your free hand holds her left hip and supports her weight.

“feels so good, mommy. fuuuckkkkk.” abby tries to not whimper as she feels the aftershocks of her orgasm hit her like a freight train. your fingers leave and she feels empty again, but you shove your fingers in her mouth and she sucks immediately. tasting herself as your hands press against her throat.

“such a pretty baby, aren’t you? jus’ need your holes stuffed and fucked?” you laugh cynically. “now, let me ride that gorgeous face of yours, alright baby? then, i’m going to fuck this pretty pussy with my cock. would you like that babygirl?”

“please mommy.”

#✭・۪ ⊹ ֗ ray’s works #this one is for my tall!readers <3 very coded though but still!!! #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x masc reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #abby x you #abby x reader #abby anderson x poc reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby anderson tlou2 #wlw sapphic #abby x poc!reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x y/n #abby fanfic #abby fanfiction #abby tlou #abby the last of us

[sapphire-writes]

Coin Toss ~ Aegon Targaryen

Aegon x Reader

summary: you are Aegon's paramour, and he teaches you a game to reveal secrets.

warnings: some angst, mostly comfort

word count: 1k

A/N: hope y’all enjoy! 💚

“Are you going to pay me for secrets?”

“I don’t pay you at all. Anymore,” he murmurs, the coin turning between his fingers. Aegon’s eyes are hungry, and your secrets are all that can satiate him.

You had met Aegon while working at the House of Kisses, a pleasure house in King’s Landing. The prince has grown quite fond of you and eventually paid your debt to the mistress of the house, returning to the Red Keep with you as his paramour. 

Though the Queen was not happy about your presence, she was pleased that Aegon’s visits to Flea Bottom and the Street of Silk became less frequent. He preferred to spend his time with you, and you alone. 

Many nights were spent as you are now, splayed in from the fire of Aegon’s chambers atop some furs. A pitcher of wine, now nearly empty, sits on a table beside you. Aegon often prefers the lounge on the floor, tangling his limbs with yours in front of the fire. 

The young prince lays across from you, as you sit knees atop each other, a cup dangling from your fingers. Aegon looks beautifully haunted, mouth reddened from the wine he has been sipping, the dark circles under his eyes accentuating the deep lavender color.

The light from the flames dances across his face, and he looks so handsome it nearly steals the breath from your lungs. You often find yourself just wanting to stare at him, and if you look away for too long you surely will wake up from this dream you find yourself in.

“That’s not the game anyhow, you flip the coin,” he says demonstrating, the coin landing in his palm. He beckons you to give him your hand, clad with several rings. You do so willingly, palm down, an amused smile beginning to form. He presses the cool coin against the back of your hand and scatters a kiss across your knuckles. 

“If the dragon faces up, you tell me a secret,” he says, removing his hand and revealing which side of the coin has landed. “Or you can take a drink.”

The coin has landed so the golden dragon peers up at you, causing Aegon to smile triumphantly. Your smile twists into a frown as you reach for your cup, taking a sip of wine. The liquid burns a trail down your throat and you note the disappointment that flashes across Aegon’s violet eyes. It disappears as quickly as it appeared, as he blows air through his lips noisily and rolls his eyes.  

“Boring,” he chastises, taking a sip from his goblet. Aegon firmly believes a woman should not be forced to drink alone.

You place the coin on your thumb before flicking it in the air. You repeat the action Aegon showed you, revealing the golden dragon once more. It is as though the gods themselves want you to share your secrets with them. You let out a frustrated breath. 

Aegon’s eyes flicker from the coin to your reddened face. 

“When I was a girl,” you begin, choosing your words carefully, “I dreamed of traveling to Braavos.” 

Aegon smiles with approval, and with the reveal, you feel as though his fingers are scratching the surface of your innermost thoughts. 

You toss him the coin, which he catches against his chest. The game continues, and when the gold dragon is hidden Aegon must reveal a secret. You watch him carefully through your lashes. 

“Fucking a woman is the only thing I’ve been successful at in this life,” he admits, pink blush dusting the tops of his cheeks. You are startled by his confession, though not surprised. You know he is telling the truth from experience. He fucks well. Still, it saddens you to hear that is the only thing he believes he is good at. 

Aegon is watching you carefully, expecting a witty remark or perhaps a filthy one to ease the tension in the space between you. His hand falls to your knee, his thumb beginning to rub light circles against the soft flesh. He sometimes uses this action as he begins to seduce you into bed with him, but it feels different now. Tender. 

The golden dragon appears again. You are thoughtful for a moment, wanting to share a vulnerability as he did to you. 

“I thought I was doomed to die in the House of Kisses before you rescued me,” you confess, a shiver rolling through you at the memory, “I’ve never been more grateful to anyone.”

Aegon holds your gaze, teeth sinking into his lower lip. The air between you is heavy, the secret hanging in the air between the both of you. You are a sinner confessing at Aegon’s altar. A log from the fire snaps, the only sound in the room.

“That’s two secrets,” he says, a grin splitting across his handsome face. 

You shrug, a laugh escaping you. You feel lightheaded from the wine, the sensuality that lingers in the space between you. 

“You’re very charismatic,” you tease, taking a sip from your cup. Your cheeks are on fire at your confession. 

“I owe you one then,” he tells you, “I don’t believe my father ever loved me.”

“Aegon-” you begin, feeling an overwhelming urge to comfort him. Your fingers glide across his arm. His lips have fallen into a pout, and you can see his shoulders rise and fall with shallow breath. 

“Do you love me?” he asks, eyes glassy as he looks at you. His voice is strained and desperate. This is a secret he wishes you to reveal freely, no party tricks, no tossing of the coin.

Your heart hammers against your chest. It would be easy to drown your confession, to prevent it from crawling up your throat with another swig of wine. 

“You know I do,” you whisper, placing your cup on the floor beside you. Aegon reaches out then, pulling your face towards him.

His kiss is soft as he uses his tongue to pry open your lips, demanding entrance. He tastes of wine and salt as his tongue probes the inside of your mouth as though he is still searching for secrets to pull from your lips. 

You can feel the cool streams of his tears as his cheeks press against yours. You hold him close, stroking his silver hair as he continues to kiss you, molding your bodies together until there is no space left for secrets between you. 

#aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon imagine #aegon ii #aegon the usurper #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x you

[wambsgansshoelaces]

i loveee you work! i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a roman x reader fic that’s kinda anyone but you vibes where she’s in shiv’s wedding party and her and roman hate each but have to pretend to get along for the weekend. this is so random but i’ve been stuck on this idea lately.

also for music recs i’d totally recommend eliza mclamb, i love her stuff and she has a new album coming out this friday.

xoxo!

Baby’s Breath

Roman Roy x Reader

oneshot

ahh I’m so so sorry this is extremely late!! I promise I’ll do better anons waiting. I hope you like it, though!! I honestly do not have the patience to slowburn but I hope I still wrote what you wanted. thank you so much for requesting, I love you anon <33

I’m also really sorry i haven’t been posting fics recently!! I’m getting to it all haah. I really hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think xxx

also, I listen to eliza mclamb now…

Word Count: 2.557k

“Roman and Y/N, you’re walking together.”

Immediately, the two of you exchange a strained look. You and Shiv are long time friends, having met in elementary school and been attached at the hip ever since. At some point in your life, you were spending more time at the Roy household with Shiv and her siblings then you were with your actual family. You and Kendall got along just fine- he was too quiet for your liking, anyway, and would just listen when you spoke. He’d give you advice in that soft way of his, and to this day you don’t think you’ve ever heard him raise his voice.

Roman, on the other hand?

Every conversation you’ve ever had with him had ended in some sort of argument. It’s not that you necessarily had opposing viewpoints, but rather you both wanted to be heard, almost always at the same time. The two of you have been clashing since the first time you’d gone over to their house, when you’d bickered over who got the pink Wii remote.

You weren’t going to argue over this, though. It was Shiv’s big day, and you were going to make sure it goes exactly how she wants it to. You weren’t going to be the reason she gets stressed out on her wedding day.

She continues on, giving the rundown on the rehearsal dinner. Everyone’s expected to be there at five p.m. sharp, in their places at five thirty.

She and her fiance decided that their wedding was going to be abroad, and your flight out to Athens is tonight. Shiv had gotten the entire bridal and groom’s party together just to go over everything beforehand.

She’d finished speaking a while ago, and you’re now sat scrolling through your notes app making sure you have everything at home ready to take with you to Greece. You were helping Shiv move a few of her things, like a few suitcases of clothing for her honeymoon, and were also bringing a gift for the couple.

You’re absorbed in your mental check listing, but you still feel the couch under you bow a little with the weight of someone sitting down next to you.

“We can get along for the next two weeks, can’t we?”

“I’d hope so, Roman.”

“As long as you don’t instigate anything,” he amends, looking up to meet your gaze.

“If I don’t instigate anything?”

“There you go, instigating.” You suppress a sigh, pressing your lips together, causing him to crack a smile. “So much better.”

“I’m only doing this for Shiv,” you remind him. “As soon as this is all over, I’m going back to praying you get clotheslined.”

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to do the matchy thing.”

“Don’t we have to?”

“I mean, yeah, but I was thinking I get you a corsage, you know? And I put matching flowers in my breast pocket. Maid of honor and best man and everything. So that we look good in photos.” His face pinkens as he speaks, and he’s suddenly unable to look you in the eye.

“I think that’d be cute,” you say honestly. The bridesmaid dresses were a muted lavender, the groomsmen’s suits a deep black. You knew they all had pocket squares to match, but Roman’s suggestion is strangely thoughtful. You like it.

“Okay. Great. I’ll text you,” he manages, pausing a bit to look over at you before getting up and leaving.

And he does.

You’re swaddled in bed, invigorating face mask on before you have to fly nine hours. He’s sent you a screenshot of a Google search on his phone.

help, he sends after it.

The search is just ‘pretty purple flower’.

look into baby’s breath, you send back.

what the fuck

is that a fucking flower

yes

what a godawful name

There’s a short pause as he presumably searches it up. He sends you another screenshot, this time of rows of photos of the flower.

yeah, those

can i find them here?

You don’t know why he’s asking you, but you respond.

probably

you’re already in athens?

but what if i can’t?

yeah, flew out after shiv’s town hall

then order fake ones online

god, you’re not very helpful

You think he’s done texting, but he sends you another five minutes later.

fuck you

You have to get to the airport bright and early the next morning. You can barely blink the sleep away from your eyes as you shuffle to your terminal, having checked your obscene amount of luggage with the help of a scary looking driver the Roys employ.

You’re bored out of your mind as you wait impatiently in line to board the plane. Shiv had gotten you a first-class ticket, so you at least had that to look forward to.

You’re delighted when you get on the plane and find a massive, plush seat waiting for you. You stick your carry-on into the overhead compartment and relax.

You sleep through the entire flight. Your seat converted into a bed, and you were provided with the softest pillow and blanket you’ve ever touched. You fell asleep the minute your eyes shut.

You don’t realize something’s wrong until you’re inside the airport.

Since you’d spent almost your whole life in close orbit of the Roys, you weren’t unfamiliar with the press. They knew who you were, you knew who they were. They endlessly pissed Shiv off. She’d done her best to keep her spouse-to-be out of the spotlight, to give them both as normal of a life as possible. The press was overly invasive, and when it came to her family in specific, destructive.

Which is why you suppose the press is targeting you.

A few flashes go off, and immediately, reporters are in your face. You don’t know how they were let in to the terminals, how they were allowed to get so close. You feel the heat creep up your neck. You don’t like the attention- especially not this kind.

You try to push through, but you can’t. They’re incessant, and all you have in your hands is your sweater and your suitcase. You have your headphones on, and you do your best to keep your eyes averted. Despite the fact that you can’t hear anything, you just know they’re demanding comments on Shiv’s marriage and her relationships.

Before you give up entirely, the crowd is shouldered apart by a built man you recognize as employed by the Roys. He’s immediately at your side, arm closing around your shoulder, and helping you bulldoze through the crowd.

You’re frazzled, trying to stamp down the anxiety swirling in your chest. You make a mental note to thank Shiv for thinking ahead. You’re guided out into a private parking garage and pointed to a car. You’re then told that all of the luggage you’d brought would be retrieved, as it was all tagged, and you’d be off the moment you could.

You climb into the backseat of the car, just to find Roman waiting for you.

He’s worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth, but he visibly relaxes once you slide into the seat next to him. Neither of you say anything until he glances sideways at you.

“I saw your face on an article online an hour ago. Someone posted your flight details. I was worried,” he offers lamely.

You blanch. “How do they even get that information?” you ask, voice cracking.

“I, uh, don’t know, but I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you got hurt.”

Neither of you say anything the entire way to the hotel.

It all feels wrong. The caring, the thoughtfulness. It feels like it shouldn’t be happening. But you like it. You like this side of him. It makes you happy.

All of your bickering had always been pointless, anyway. It’s not like you have some real vendetta against him. You hope he looks at you the same way.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, breaking the silence. “Thank you for thinking about me.” Shiv hadn’t. ๋࣭ ⭑

The day of the wedding, you’re rushing around, getting things done for Shiv. You’re running here and there, making sure the vendors know what they’re doing, making sure not a single hair is out of place. The entire day needs to be perfect. She deserves as much.

Your dress is on, your makeup is done, your hair is up. You’re all ready, and now you just need to make sure everyone else is, too. You aren’t about to let anything go wrong.

The makeup artist starts on Shiv, and you run over to the groom’s suite to check on them. You knock softly, and Roman slips out to meet you. He’s just in a plain cotton shirt and sweats.

“Are you not getting ready? Pictures are in an hour,” you tell him.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be fine. They’re all pre-gaming.” They all were. You can tell Roman is not.

“Can we take this seriously? We can’t have anybody be late. If we have to wait for anybody, then the entire schedule gets fucked up.”

“Fuckin’… calm down. We’ll be fine. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Miffed, but not in the mood to argue any further, you give him a look. “If you’re not all ready within the hour, I’ll kill all the groomsmen and then myself. Fucking hurry, Roman.”

You turn to leave, but he catches your elbow. “What asshole did up your dress?” he asks, annoyance seeping into his voice. He tugs you back to him, and you feel his hands smooth over your back, hunting for the string edges that controlled your corset. “Tell me if I go too tight.”

He pulls, slowly and softly, as to not disturb you. He stops when your dress sits snugly on your body, as it’s supposed to, and ties it tightly. He takes a half-step back, admiring his handiwork, hands ghosting over the curves of your hips.

“That feels a lot better,” you tell him.

His eyes flit up and down your body. “Looks a lot better, too. Whoever did that is trying to see you fail.” He trails off, but it looks like he wants to say something else. He’s in a sort of a daze, stare at you. He can’t seem to look away. He snaps out of it soon enough, and you come to realize it’d given you a rush of satisfaction to see him eyeing you like that. You liked it. “Fuck off. I have to get ready.”

So you do.

You make your way down to the ceremony space, inspecting everything. Thankfully, all is well, and nothing is out of place. Everything’s calm, quiet, and nearing perfection.

The time comes for you to help Shiv into her dress, and you’re both emotional, on the brink of tears. You tell her she looks beautiful, because she does, and you help lead her to her first look, where all of the couple’s portraits will be taken before the entire group gets together.

After you step out of the room, leaving them to it, Roman’s making his way up the hallway, this time dressed in a crisp black tuxedo, lavender pocket square tucked neatly.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re here. I have something to give to you,” he says, and you notice the small box gripped in his hand. You have to admit, he looks good in black tie dress. You could get used to the sight of him like this, every bit of clothing tailored exactly to his measurements. Not that you exactly found him unappealing other times, though. Because you certainly found him appealing.

He pops the box open, taking out a delicate corsage made up of purple and white baby’s breath. You have no idea where he got the thing, but it’s gorgeous. You offer your hand when he stretches out his own, and he carefully slips the corsage onto your wrist, adjusting it so that it’s straight. He keeps his eye on it, making sure it’s sitting perfectly on you before pulling away.

“It’s so pretty,” you murmur.

“I’d hoped you’d like it,” he murmurs back. “But, uh, if you don’t mind, I need some help.” He gestures vaguely at his breast pocket, where the pocket square currently sits all by itself. He takes you back to the groomsmen’s suite, beckoning you inside. He goes to root around in his stuff, which is all in a clumped pile in the corner of the massive bedroom. He cautiously takes out a glass tin, a single stem of white baby’s breath identical to the one on your wrist contained inside. “Every time I try putting it in it sticks out weird,” he clarifies, looking up at you, embarrassment tinging his features. “And, uh, you’re the only one who’ll give me the time of day.”

Your heart drops a bit. You feel bad, so you take the tin from him and motion for him to turn and face you. He does.

Roman doesn’t look you in the eyes as your hands smooth out his blazer. Again, these tender moments between the two of you felt like they shouldn’t be happening. It felt so right, though, you felt so at home, letting your hands linger on his chest. You gently tuck the stem of the flower into his breast pocket, letting it peek over and starkly contrast both the color of his suit and the pocket square. You smooth out any wrinkles you can find on his blazer, your hands sliding over the fronts of his shoulders, down his sides, over his stomach.

His face reddens, but he doesn’t stop you.

“You look nice,” you say quietly, straightening out his tie. He catches your hand before it leaves him, keeping it pressed to his chest.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You… you’re handsome.”

“You, uh, you’re always the prettiest out of all of them. All the time. Like, I’ll see other girls, but I… I always know they’ll never hold a torch to you. I always think- I mean, I know I’d just be happier with you.”

Your face heats, and you can’t help the smile that begins to spread over your face. He moves your hand from his chest up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Since when?” you ask, trying to keep yourself together as he turns your hand over and litters kisses along your palm.

“Since forever. I’ve been crushing on you since you yanked the Wii-mote from me then beat my ass in Super Smash Bros.”

You let out an airy giggle. “I’m sorry our relationship’s never been… amicable ’till now.”

Roman lets go of your hand, instead winding his arms around your hips and pulling you flush against him. “Don’t know what that means,” he says simply, fingers going up to brush gently along your jaw. He’s careful not to mess up your makeup or hair. He just wants to touch you. “Just glad you’re here.” His gaze flickers down to your lips. “Can I…?”

You don’t answer, instead leaning forward to capture his lips in a kiss. He makes a strangled noise at the contact, hand adjusting to instead cup your jaw, anchoring you to him. He immediately deepens the kiss, and you swear you can taste the universe on his tongue.

#roman roy #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #succession #succession hbo #succession fic #succession x reader #wambsgansshoelaces #anon ask #requests open

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 6

As time passes, your relationship with Joel changes and sometimes, life has other plans. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-5 found here on Tumblr.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 4.3k

Warnings: Mention of suicide and a suicide attempt, depiction of a panic attack, light smut, no use of Y/N. 18+ Minors DNI

August, 2000

In all honesty, you were surprised your baggage had held off as long as it did. 

You’d been dating Joel for a few months the first time your anxiety became an issue. It had been so much better when you were with him that you’d almost thought you were cured of it. Almost. 

It wasn’t anything new. You generally managed it well, planning ahead where you could, showing up everywhere a few minutes early, over-prepared for tests. With enough thinking and work, you could hide it. Take care of it yourself. It wasn’t something you talked about with anyone and it definitely wasn’t something you wanted Joel to know. 

But that was before back to school shopping day. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the mall this packed,” you frowned as Joel looked for a parking space. “Even at Christmas it wasn’t this bad.” 

“That’s tax free shopping weekend for you,” he sighed. “Like this every year.” 

You dug your nails into your thigh. You didn’t do well in crowds. Joel frowned. 

“You OK?” He asked. 

“Fine,” you smiled tightly. He looked skeptical but jumped on a parking space as someone else pulled out. 

“Alright kiddo,” Joel looked in the rear view mirror. “We’re staying’ focused. School clothes only, OK? Gotta meet the dress code rules. We’re not here for posters or toys or books, school clothes are the mission.” 

“Can we go to Dairy Queen if I only look at school clothes,” Sarah’s face was very serious. 

“I will consider Dairy Queen if we only look at school clothes,” Joel said. 

“Yes!” Sarah punched the air in victory and you smiled. Maybe everything would be fine. You’d never dealt with crowds with them before. Everything was better with them. So maybe this would be fine. 

It wasn’t. 

You lasted through the first few stores, anxiety getting worse the tighter the crowds got. But Sarah really wanted your opinion on clothes, the glittery t-shirts and matching jeans and you really wanted to give her something more to go on than Joel’s “Looks great, baby girl.” 

“This or the pink one?” She asked, coming out of the fitting room in a purple shirt. You tried to focus on something besides the press of people hovering at the back of the store. It was hot, hard to breathe. You swallowed. 

“I think the sleeves on that one are better,” you said. “You get cold in the air conditioning at school so you might want more coverage than the pink one. Both are cute though!” 

She crinkled her nose. 

“I think this one,” she said. “This was the last one here, I just need to get changed.” 

Someone bumped into you from behind, sending you stumbling into a woman next to you. 

“Watch where you’re going!” She snapped at you. 

“Sorry,” you said quickly, chest getting tight. You grabbed Joel’s arm. “I’ll be outside.” 

He frowned down at you. 

“You OK?” 

“Fine,” you said quickly. “I’m fine, just need air…” 

You didn’t wait for him to respond, you just all but ran for the entrance to the store, working your way through the crowd as best you could. 

But out in the mall wasn’t much better. You tried to breathe, the air feeling thick in your chest, legs wobbly. You made it to a corner that wasn’t as crowded, near the bathrooms, and all but collapsed into it. Your chest got tighter and you tried to breathe through it. 

The first time you’d had a panic attack was about 10 years earlier and you thought you were dying. Your grandmother had held you, helped you breathe through it, kept you grounded. Dealing with them alone was a lot harder. 

You sank down the wall, pulled your knees into your chest and pressed your forehead against them, closing your eyes. You weren’t quite sure how long you sat there like that when you heard Sarah over the dull roar of people. 

“Dad!” She yelled. “Found her!” 

You wanted to look at her, say something reassuring but you couldn’t make yourself move. “Hey Baby,” Joel’s arm went around you. “Woah, OK… What’s goin’ on?” 

You tried to get enough breath to talk but you couldn’t seem to make it happen. 

“Sarah,” he said quickly. “Run to the ladies’ room and get a damp, cold paper towel, OK?” 

“I’m fine,” you managed, almost choking on it. 

“No you’re not,” he said, tugging you against his side. “But I’ve got you, Baby. It’ll be OK.” 

A cool cloth pressed into your neck and you latched onto the feeling of it. It was cold, that you knew. Joel’s arms around you were strong, you knew that, too. The stone floor below you was hard. You took a deep breath. You could smell the lavender of your body spray, the calming pine sawdust smell of Joel, the cinnamon from the pretzel stand not too far from you. Joel kept saying “I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” somehow drowning out the noise of people. 

“Sarah,” he said after a minute. “You’re on bag and key duty, you got that?” 

“Yup,” she sounded confident. Your heart sank. You didn’t want to drag her into your crap, she was just a kid…. 

“We’re gonna get you out of here Baby,” Joel’s voice was calm. You pulled your head from where it had been buried in your arms and knees. Everything seemed oddly bright. It took a second for your eyes to adjust. “Think you can walk?” 

You thought for a moment. Your legs felt shaky but you could feel your legs, which was a good start. 

“Yeah,” you managed. 

“Here we go,” he pulled you up with him, holding you tightly against his side. Your legs felt like Jell-o but you stayed on your feet. “See, you’re OK Baby, I’ve got you…” 

You were thankful that you could at least walk. It was a little less mortifying that Joel wasn’t stuck carrying you out of the mall. If someone didn’t look too closely, you might just look like a clingy girlfriend. That was better. 

Joel helped you into the truck before climbing in himself. He pulled out his cellphone and pressed some buttons. 

“Hey Tommy, need a favor,” he said. “Can you take Sarah tonight? Something came up… Thanks. Yeah, I’ll drop her off in a bit.” 

“You don’t…” you started, voice oddly scratchy but Joel cut you off. 

“Already done.” 

Joel drove straight to Tommy’s, getting out of the car with Sarah and spending a minute talking with them both at the front door. There was a knot in your stomach, replacing the tightness in your chest that had overwhelmed you at the mall. This was it, you were getting dumped. 

You’d never really had a boyfriend before but you were pretty damn sure they weren’t huge fans of women who couldn’t keep it together enough to go shopping. And Joel wasn’t about to dump you in front of his daughter. You tapped your foot, nervous energy needing somewhere to go. Joel got back in the car. 

“How we doin’?” He asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Fine,” you said. 

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m not doin’ that.” 

“Doing what?” You frowned. 

“Where you lie to me about how you’re feeling,” he said. “You said you were fine earlier, you weren’t fine. How are you actually doing.” 

“Fine enough.” 

He sighed but drove the car to his house. You were surprised for a moment and it must have shown on your face.  

“Figured we’d not have you taking the stairs for a bit,” he said. He got out of the truck and went around, opening your door and helping you down. You were more stable on your feet now but leaned into his side anyway. If he was about to dump you, you were going to take what you could get. He led you to the kitchen and sat you down at the table before going and getting a tall glass of water, setting it in front of you. 

“Drink that,” he said, voice a little stern. You watched him cautiously but obeyed, not realizing how thirsty you were until you were chugging it. You set the empty glass down and he got up and refilled it, putting it back in front of you again. You drank half of that glass, too, before putting it back on the table. You just looked at him from across the table. 

“If you’re going to break up with me, can you get it over with?” You asked eventually. He looked taken aback. “Really, it’s OK. I get it. But I don’t want to drag it out, just do it like a band-aid, OK?” 

“Why in the world would I be dumping you?” He looked completely confused. You frowned. 

“Because I couldn’t even handle going to the mall today?” You asked more than answered.

“What the fuck difference does that make?” He asked. You didn’t really have an answer. “Baby, I love you whether you can go to the damn mall or not, you think I give a shit about that?” 

You just blinked for a moment. 

“What?” He asked. 

“You said you love me,” you said quietly. 

“‘Course I love you,” he said it like it was obvious. “Did you think I didn’t?” 

“You’ve never said it,” you said. “I didn’t… You just hadn’t said it, so…” 

“Oh,” he said after a moment. “Well. I love you. Head over heels for you. Don’t think much is going to change that.” 

You smiled and took a sip of water. 

“You haven’t said it either,” he said. 

“I was kind of waiting for you,” you half smiled. “Didn’t want to be the silly kid gushing at you. But I do.” 

“Do what?” 

“Love you,” you blushed as you said it. “Probably to an unhealthy degree. Not sure, I’m not a doctor.” 

He laughed once. 

“Well, Baby, I ain’t goin’ anywhere,” he said. “So want to tell me what happened today?” 

You sighed, biting your lip for a moment. 

“Remember when I said I had things that made it so I’m not exactly a dream to deal with?” You asked. 

“Figured you meant your smart mouth,” he smiled a bit. “Guessin’ there’s a bit more to it.” 

“One of those things is anxiety,” you winced as you said it. “I can usually handle it just fine. It’s not that bad. But crowds… I don’t know what it is but they freak me out. They’re just so loud and chaotic and you can get caught up in them and not know where you’re going… That doesn’t happen very often. It’s only the second time since I came to Texas and the first time was before I knew you.” 

He nodded slowly. 

“How long has that been happening?” He asked. 

“About 10 years.” 

“Anything that helps?”

“What you did today helped a lot,” you smiled a little. “You gave me something to focus on, which helps. Made me feel safe.” 

He nodded again. 

“I can do that,” he said. “I want to do that. Take care of you. Make you feel safe.” 

You smiled. No one had ever wanted to do that for you before. 

“You said it was one of the things,” Joel said after a minute. “Want to tell me the others?” 

You winced. 

“You don’t have to,” he said, watching you closely. “But I’m still not goin’ anywhere. And I want to know how to help you if you need it.” 

You bit your lip and sighed. 

“I’ve never really told anyone this,” you began. “And you already know a little of it, but you might not remember.” 

“Try me,” he said. 

“Remember the night we first…” you trailed off, brows raised. 

“Not about to forget a damn thing about that night,” he replied. You laughed a little. 

“I told you about my friend Becca who died when we were 16?” You asked more than said. He nodded once. “She didn’t just die, she killed herself. And I… Well, I tried to go with her.” 

Joel sat up, almost jumping out of his chair before sitting back down. 

“We’d both been bullied at school,” you said. “She’d been dating a guy who started a rumor that he’d slept with her and me when they broke up. It got rough for a while and one day she went home and…” 

You took a drink of water. 

“It wasn’t the only thing,” you continued. “I had… issues for a bit already. And it just felt like everyone was leaving me. I didn’t feel like I had a reason to really try… Anyway. That’s what the scar on my side is. I overheard someone telling my grandmother how Becca did it and how it almost didn’t work, I wanted something that seemed more certain but I didn’t really know what I was doing. My grandmother found me. Pulled me out of school for a bit. I still finished on time with good grades because I had some really great teachers who worked with me.”

“You don’t…” Joel paused. “Seem like someone…” 

“I know,” you smiled a little. “And I’m a lot better now than I was then, but I still have some rough patches. I just never want anyone to feel as bad as I did, you know?” 

He got up and knelt in front of you, a hand going around the back of your neck and pulling your forehead down to his own. 

“It ever gets bad, you talk to me,” his eyes were locked onto yours. “Don’t do it alone, you understand me?” 

“I’ve never told anyone that,” you said softly. 

“Tell me,” he said. “Always tell me. OK?” 

“OK.” 

***

May 2001 

Joel was pretty sure your grandmother didn’t like him much. 

She was polite enough when you were around but otherwise - like sitting in the stands for your graduation ceremony - she’d basically ignored him, only talking to Sarah and the people around them. 

“Do I have time to go to the bathroom?” Sarah asked as they sat waiting for the ceremony to start. Joel checked his watch, one you’d taken Sarah to buy for his birthday in September. She’d been very proud, picking it out on her own, stashing it away without his knowledge. 

“You’ve got 7 minutes,” he said. “Can you find it on your own?” 

“Dad, I’m 11,” she rolled her eyes, getting up to go without actually answering his question. He watched her leave, trying to stretch out awkwardly in the stadium seat he was stuck in. 

“I remember that age,” your grandmother smiled. “It doesn’t get easier.” 

“So I’ve heard,” Joel smiled. “I know I’m in for it once she gets to her teens.” 

“Wasn’t that long ago that I had a teen at home,” she glanced his way before looking back to the stage. Joel sighed. So this conversation was happening here. 

“Been a few years,” Joel replied. She actually turned to face him. 

“She’s a sweet girl, Mr. Miller,” she said. 

“Joel,” he replied. “And I know she is.” 

“Too sweet to see what she’s doing with you,” she continued. 

“And what’s that?” He asked, clenching his jaw. 

“You’ve got my granddaughter playing house with you at 22 years old,” she leaned across Sarah’s open seat, fire in her eyes. “She’s too young and too infatuated with you to know she doesn’t want to be a mother to a girl who’s half her age.” 

“I’m not asking her to be Sarah’s mother,” he said, doing his best to keep his temper under control. “I’m not asking her for anything.” 

“You’re asking her to give up her future, whether you know that or not,” she snapped. “She is so smart, far smarter than me or her mother, and she’s going to throw it all away so she can be close to you, I can feel it.” 

“I don’t want her to give up anything,” Joel said. “I wouldn’t ask her to give up anything…” 

“That doesn’t matter,” she said. “She’s already talking about maybe staying here…” 

“She can teach here.” 

“Can she go to grad school here?” She asked. Joel opened his mouth to respond but she wound’t let him. “While she’s fitting herself into your life?” 

Joel didn’t have anything to say. 

“You seem like a decent enough man, Mr. Miller,” she said, looking back toward the stage. “I just don’t want you anywhere near my granddaughter. She deserves more than this.” 

Joel watched you walk the stage, screaming and cheering with Sarah. You found them in the crowd and waved. You were glowing and he was worried your grandmother was right. 

You slept over at his house the night you took your grandmother to the airport, Joel sinking into your warm, soft body, holding you as close and tight as he could until he emptied himself into you. 

“Is everything OK?” Your fingers traced his chest. “That felt… different.” 

“Are you sure this is the right thing for you?” He asked softly. You frowned. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Bein’ with me,” he said. “I know you were talking about finding a teaching job here but I don’t want you doing things different because you’re with me. I want you to live your life…” 

“You’re a part of my life,” you said. “You, Sarah… You’re some of the most important people in the world to me. I want to be where you are.” 

“I don’t want you giving things up for me,” he brushed your hair back. 

“Who said you’re the only draw here, Miller,” you teased him. “I don’t think I can just go back to the frozen north now, I’ve become accustomed to a different climate. Austin is just stuck with me. You can be along for the ride or not.” 

“Guess I’m in then,” he kissed you, smiling against your mouth. “Can’t leave Austin to fend for itself against you.” 

July 2001

You were pacing when Joel got home from work. Sarah was blasting some kind of pop music from her room and you seemed beside yourself. 

“Baby,” he said, heading right for you the second he was in the door. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” 

“I heard from my grandmother today,” you were tapping your phone against the palm of your hand. 

“How’s she?” He asked after a moment. 

“Joel,” your voice cracked. His heart dropped. “She has cancer.” 

It was a late night. In just a day you’d gone from talking about moving into his house when your lease was up to making plans to move you across the country. Your grandmother needed to stay with her doctors in New York, Joel needed to stay with the business in Austin. You were stuck. 

You got a job teaching at a school not far from where you grew up and Joel helped you plan for the move. He insisted on driving you up himself, his truck loaded with what little you were taking back with you, him helping you sell your car before you left (“Baby, that thing is not making it to New York.”) 

“You’re sure you want to do this?” You were sitting outside with him on his last night in your hometown. The stars were bright here, the countryside quiet. “Long distance is shitty.” 

“I’m in if you are,” he replied. “I don’t want to hold you back…” 

“Will you stop worrying about holding me back?” You shook your head at him. “I know what I want. Please trust me on it.” 

“Then I’m in,” he looked at you. 

“Me too.” 

He made love to you on the grass in the dark, quiet and slow, committing as much of you to memory as he possibly could. 

*** 

June 2002 

“Joel!” 

You ran for him the second you saw him come through the security checkpoint, hurtling yourself at him. He caught you, clutching you close to him, your arms and legs wrapping around him. 

“I missed you,” you kissed his cheek, his neck, his shoulder, everything you could reach. “I missed you so much…” 

He’d come to New York, just him for a few days. You’d gotten a hotel room and tickets to Letterman. You hadn’t seen each other in months, long distance being harder than you’d ever thought it would be. 

You were happy you were there to take care of your grandmother. You liked teaching. It was challenging but satisfying. You’d made friends with one of your fellow science teachers - Louisa - who had a girl Sarah’s age which just made you miss Joel and Sarah even more. You talked daily but not being able to see him, touch him was taking its toll. 

He’d called you on the morning of 9/11, Joel being the one to tell you what was happening and to turn on the TV. That night, you sat in silence on the phone, watching the footage over and over, wishing he was next to you. You didn’t know what was going to happen next. The world felt uncertain and scarier than it had ever been and all you wanted was Joel beside you when it all came crashing down. But he was a country away and you hated it. 

He released you, setting you down but still holding you close, kissing you hard. 

“Please tell me the hotel is close,” he said, voice desperate. “I need you…” 

You barely made it in the door before he was ripping your clothes off and slipping into you with a satisfied moan. The tickets for Letterman were the next night. You barely made it. 

Sarah joined you a few days later, her thrilled to have made her first plane trip solo. The three of you took a hiking trip, getting eaten alive by mosquitos and eating burned marshmallows. You felt like a family. You loved every second of it. 

July 2003 

“I’m not ready to go back,” you sighed, sipping your coffee by the pool in Joel’s backyard. 

“I know,” he said softly. 

“Next year,” you looked at him. “If Nan’s still in remission…” 

“We can talk about it when the time comes,” he said, taking a sip of coffee. 

“I don’t want to be away from you anymore,” you said. “I don’t care what it takes, I need to be with you.” 

“I can’t let you blow up your life for me, Kid,” he looked over at you, clenching his jaw. “You’ve been teaching up there two years already…” 

“And I’m take correspondence classes to make my bio degree a pre-med degree,” you cut him off. “I’m already changing careers.” 

“Should you really be limiting med school choices to Austin?” He asked. 

“You saying you think I’m not smart enough to get into UT again?” You teased. 

“I’m sayin’ you’re smart enough that Harvard should be beaten’ down your door and you should let ‘em,” he replied. 

“Harvard’s overrated,” you shrugged. 

“Kid,” he sighed. 

“I know what I want, Joel,” you cut him off. “Unless you want something different…” 

“I’ll always want you, Baby,” he said. 

“Then let me worry about where I’m going to med school,” you said. “You worry about being up to snuff on your flash card quiz skills.” 

“My girl the doctor,” he smiled a little. 

“You really think I can do it?” You asked after a moment. 

“Know you can, Doc.” 

You got in the pool, Joel joining you. You wrapped your legs around him and he held you tight against him, nudging your swimsuit aside and freeing his cock, sliding inside your warmth slowly, gently. You moaned and kissed him as he softly worked your clit. Everything was slow and aching. You could feel every part of him inside of you, every detail as you rose and fell over him, holding him deep within you. 

“I love you,” he whispered, breathless, as he pressed so deep into you it almost hurt. You felt him cum, his pulsing triggering your orgasm. You felt every part of him he left inside you, your body holding onto him, almost like it somehow knew it would be the last time. 

August 2003 

“I just don’t think I can keep doing this, Baby.”  

“Joel,” your voice cracked as you stared up at your ceiling. “Please…” 

“It’s too hard,” he said. His voice was flat. “Maybe in a few years, if we’re in the same place again… hell, even the same time zone…” 

“I can visit more,” you were begging. It was pathetic. You didn’t care.  

“Not with your work and class schedule,” he said. 

“If this is because you think you’re holding me back…” 

“It’s not,” he said. “It’s just too stressful for me, too hard on Sarah. I’m spendin’ all my time on the phone with you to try and make up for not seein’ ya and it’s not fair to her.” 

You were quiet. Anything else you could argue with. You couldn’t argue with doing something for Sarah’s sake. 

“OK,” you said, trying to hold off on crying until you were off the phone. 

“I appreciate your understanding,” there was no emotion in his words at all. They were hollow. 

“I’ll always love you, Joel,” you said softly. “Til the day I die.” 

“I know, Kid.” 

You cried yourself to sleep for days. You’d never felt more empty. It took all your effort to go set up your classroom the next week and get all your supplies together. 

Life, you reminded yourself, had to keep moving. 

September was around the corner. 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #fanfic #smut fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction

[aclowntiny]

Blue Skies- Yeosang x Female!Baker!Reader

Word Count: 2,970 | Fluff | Warnings: none hehe

I have decided to do a coffee shop story for every member because why not 😌 feat. Wooyoung because I can dangit 😈

Sun filtered through the plants that dripped from window boxes, falling gently onto the crown of Yeosang’s head. He strolled gently down the sidewalk, inhaling the scent of spring breeze.

A new café had opened up around the corner from his building, so in one of the windows of free time he received he elected to check it out.

The sign and logo, which featured a blue sky dotted with pink clouds, promised the cozy atmosphere Yeosang expected and received as soon as he walked in, greeted by tables that each had a cute figurine on their center and pastel cushions on all the chairs. There were even couches to sit on and a game table with a sign that read ‘Come Play With Us 🩷’. Yeosang considered sitting there, but no one else was present to play with.

There was much that he expected about the place: open tables, a cute but hip atmosphere, the smell of cappuccino steam rising to greet him…but one thing he did not.

A figure bent serenely behind the surprisingly large bakery case, smoothing out the frosting on the most delicious-looking cake he’d ever seen with a pastry bench, eyelashes fluttering slightly as she worked. The frosting was pure white, enrobing a small round cake that was now getting striped with strawberries, and the woman had a small, calm smile on her face, which focused on placing each one just so. It was just about the most gorgeous sight Yeosang had ever seen; his heart fluttering as he approached the counter. No one else was there- would the baker be the one to take his order, too?

Apparently she would. “I’ll be right with you, sorry! Just finishing up these last few strawberries,” she told him with a small, sheepish but bright smile.

He gave her one right back. “Of course. Take your time.” Sure, the others may have his hide if he’s late for practice, but so what? It was one day. Hongjoong would live.

His eyes kept drifting between the white tile floors and the baker’s fingers deftly, but gently placing their décor around the cake, which was soon slid into the display case next to a chocolate torte and beneath a mouthwatering selection of breads and tartlets.

“D- did you make all of those?” Yeosang blurted out before he could stop himself.

“I did!” Your smile widened into a full-on grin and Yeosang thought he might have a heart attack. “I’m in charge of pastries around here! Well, and drinks right now since my co-barista is on lunch. I’m all finished with the cake now, so what can I make for you today?”

“Um…” It was at that moment that Yeosang realized he had not once looked at the menu. His mind completely blanked, floundering for a moment until… “I’ve never been here, what do you recommend?” Nailed it.

"Well, I suppose that depends on if you like coffee or not. If you don't, my favorite is the London Fog latte, which is earl grey tea with vanilla. If you do, the lavender latte is our specialty and that one is really good too! Very pretty!"

Just like you, Yeosang thought. "Well then, I'd like to try that, please," he actually said, shyly nodding his head as she tapped a few register keys.

"Were you going to be staying here or taking it on the go?"

"Ah," Yeosang rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I would love to stay but I should take it on the go."

"No problem! Your name?"

"Yeosang."

"What a nice name! I'll have that ready for you soon."

She was that nice to everyone. She had to be.

Yeosang thanked her, taking a seat at a table with a doraemon figurine winking at him. Cute. He didn't want to stare at the baker, whose name tag read (y/n), but his eyes had minds of their own, drifting constantly back over to the humming baker-barista. Eventually, he applied the three rule, counting to three before looking away so he never stared too long.

He was so focused on counting threes that he barely heard his name, practically jumping as (y/n) called him a second time.

"I hope you enjoy your latte, Yeosang!"

His heart flipped. He looked between his to-go cup, topped with lavender-tinted steamed milk poured in a heart shape, (y/n)'s beautiful smile, & that tantalizing bakery case.

"Er, before I go, how much is the cake?"

~

Just as Yeosang suspected, the boys were placated by free food.

"This is the best cake I've ever had," Mingi sighed, "where did you say you got this again?"

"The new café around the corner. The baker was really nice. She was finishing it up as I came in."

"If she bakes that good," the tall rapper continued, "I wanna marry her."

"She made my drink, too. That was really good. I really liked the atmosphere in there and she was very nice. Really makes you feel welcome."

"Watch out, Mingi, I think Yeosang is going to marry her," Wooyoung teased, sliding over the shining studio floor to claim a cake slice of his own.

Warmth flooded the singer's cheeks. "All I said was I liked Blue Skies."

"Whatever. Keep sweet-talking her and see if you can get some of this for free, huh?" Wooyoung suggested, elbowing Yeosang in the ribs.

"I might go back. I heard the London Fog is good there."

~

"Uh, oh, someone's baking a love cake!"

Placing the fat piping bag of green icing you'd held back onto the silver decorating table, you cocked a brow at your co-barista, Hakyeon. "Excuse me?"

"Look at you, piping little frogs holding hands on top of your cake. You and who?"

"Maybe I'm trying to get you a girlfriend," you teased, grinning and giggling at the way the tall man crossed his arms at you.

"No way, you're too happy to care that I'm single. What happened?"

Hakyeon stared at you, dark eyes boring into your soul in an attempt at a withering gaze that just made him look like an overgrown kitten. You couldn't take him seriously, bursting out with a laugh.

"See? I knew it."

"Ok, fine, a really cute guy came in yesterday and got a drink and a cake and I'm hoping he comes back and thinks the frog one is cute and maybe, just maybe, I can figure out who he bought a whole entire cake for the first time, especially if he wants a romantic cake."

Hakyeon blinked, stare melting into amusement. "Wow, that's an extremely elaborate substitute for just asking the guy out."

"He's a customer, I can't just-"

A wave of annoyingly well-manicured tan hands. "Yeah, yeah. What's this guy's name, anyway?"

You blushed. "Do I have to tell you everything?"

"I want to know who he is so I can tell if he's an axe murderer or not."

"Fine, his name is Yeosang, and he-"

Ding!

The bell hanging at your door chimed, sending you scrambling to finish your cake's green lattice sides and Hakyeon sauntering to the counter. Before he reached it, he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "When I'm working, I want you sitting at the game table."

"But I have to work-"

"Just do it."

"Only if I'm not working on something. I can't leave stuff in the oven to burn, you know."

A familiar deep voice interrupted your banter, though, sending a happy little shock through your chest. Yeosang was back. And ordering a London Fog, which you remembered mentioning as one of your favorites. You peered at him through your lashes, blushing and practically throwing the frog couple cake into the glass to free up a hand when you saw him wave at you.

"Hi (y/n)," he said softly.

"Hi! Sounds like you're trying tea today?"

He nodded. "You said it was your favorite right? Then I had to try it." Pointing at the display, he let his gaze fall to your latest creation. "That's a cute cake. Did someone order it?"

"No," you shook your head, "I just thought it would be cute if any couples or people with significant others came in."

"I'm sure they'll love it. Could I get some jjinppang today? The guys in my group really loved your cake, too, but I can't spoil them too much."

Suppressing a grin at the evidence your frog cake totally provided you with, thank you very much Hakyeon, you obliged.

Yeosang left, London Fog gripped cutely in both hands as he sighed in curling clouds of steam, and Hakyeon immediately whipped his head your way, chuckling at your own sigh.

"Sheesh, no wonder. Guy must be a model or something. You. Tomorrow. Game table."

All you could do was smile, blush, and shake your head.

~

True to your-well, Hakyeon's- word, you placed yourself next to the ‘Come Play With Us 🩷’ sign, legs crossed, chin resting in hand, and latte coastered at your side, casually taking a sip as Yeosang walked in again.

“No cake today?”

"I did a sort of plain German chocolate today and decorate-your-own cookies, so I finished early. Wanna play a game?"

He did indeed, challenging you to a really cute cat café-themed dice game, totally creaming you AKA collecting more cats, and icing a decorate-your-own cookie because quote 'the members were being annoying today, so no free food for them'. He drew the cutest little character on his, shocking you when you discovered it was his own creation.

"I wanna put him on a cake!"

"Go ahead," he said with a smile.

Feeling guilty for shirking helping the other Blue Skies customers who ordered pastries, you glanced up at Hakyeon, who simply gave you a cheeky grin and wave. Rolling your eyes, you returned your gaze to Yeosang, who challenged you to a quick card game before he went back to work.

You won, so he claimed he needed to come back to Blue Skies for a rematch. "I- if you're ok with that."

"Of course," you giggled.

~

"'Favorite game buddy?' Dude, she's totally flirting with you."

"She's nice to every customer. You should have seen the way she laughed and clapped for another person's joke."

"Yeah, but did she draw a hehetmon with a heart on their drink?" Wooyoung asked, hand on his hip.

"She drew a heart in the foam of my first drink last week," Yeosang shot back, making Wooyoung want to take him by the shoulders and shake the forever-singleness out of his handsome friend, "that's, like, the most common latte art there is?"

The worst part was, Yeosang looked genuinely confused by Wooyoung's insinuations. The man was too pure for his own good. That was ok, though. If he wanted to be an angel, Wooyoung was more than happy to play the devil role.

~

"I don't know why you suddenly want to come to Blue Skies with me," Yeosang questioned with a furrowed brow, long black hair falling onto his forehead, "I've been going for, like, two weeks now."

Because you don't know how to make a move, that's why. Clouds drifted lazily across the sky, faintly obscuring the sun as a breeze ruffled through the planter boxes. The weather wasn't quite as sunny-go-lucky as it had been, as if even the sky knew a scheme was brewing.

"Well, if the lovely, very kind baker isn't flirting with you, then maybe I want some," Wooyoung replied with a wide grin.

"What?" If looks could kill, oh boy would Wooyoung be six feet under. It was like his friend had been taking lessons from Hongjoong or something.

Plans were plans, though. "Why not? She sounds great."

"She's not your type," Yeosang replied a little too quickly, pushing his stray bangs back out of his dark stare.

"Well, I'll be the judge of that," Wooyoung said sweetly as he pushed open the door, head swaying a bit with the tinkling of the cute little bell.

There was a girl behind the counter expertly pouring mirror glaze over some petit fours. She was cute, but definitely not Wooyoung's type. Even better.

"Well hello there," he called out charmingly as the girl smiled and waved, clearly over the moon to see Yeosang.

"Hi! Are you one of the guys from the group Yeosang told me about?"

"Yes, and you must be the baker who made that excellent cake, but I had no idea you were so beautiful," he complimented (y/n), leaning on the counter where she took up her spot by the register.

It took all his willpower to suppress the grin that rose to his face as his whole body was wracked by a hard elbowing and then some to ignore the whisper of "don't be a creep".

"Well, thank you," (y/n) smiled, but her gaze still fluttered back to Yeosang. Oh yeah. Wooyoung could just see the pleading in her eyes. She didn't want this from him.

"I hear you make great lattes, too, which I don't doubt. What do you recommend for someone like me, hm?"

"Weren't you just wanting to get an Americano like usual?" Yeosang cut him off, glancing just as pleadingly at (y/n), who kept up an impressive customer-service poker smile.

"I can do that. If you like it sweet, we do a really good brown sugar one."

Wooyoung fiddled with his collar. "Oh, I do like it sweet."

(y/n) laughed, but it was clearly strained, and her whole body practically melted in relief when Yeosang gave him an 'I don't know this man' glance and ordered a latte extra politely, no rush thank you so much (y/n), practically batting his eyelashes at her.

"Maybe we can have our next cat café match next time, huh?" Emphasis on our.

She didn't look up, but (y/n) accidentally delivered a killing blow. Wooyoung choked back a laugh, disguising it as a cough because holy crap, Yeosang was not going to take that correctly.

"Oh, is Wooyoung not going to be a regular, too?"

"No, I think he's just visiting for now, aren't you?"

Wooyoung flipped his hair back, coyly focusing on studying the Badtz-Maru figurine on the table. "You never know."

"I see," said (y/n), "good to know."

Yeosang's gaze darted between (y/n) and his friend, expression falling into one of defeat. His shining eyes were hard to watch, and in any other situation Wooyoung would have grabbed his hand and given him a hug. But that hug was going to have to wait, as (y/n) was making her way over with their drinks. From what Wooyoung gathered, she didn't usually personally deliver what she made.

She didn't even meet his eyes when she reached the table, looking only between Yeosang and the drink she placed in front of him. Yeosang looked up at her, dumbfounded, as she folded her hands behind her back, dawdling at their table.

She'd drawn a hehetmon on each drink, completely ignoring the fact that Americanos didn't even have milk just so she could splash enough on there to make one stick his tongue out at Wooyoung.

"No heart," he very loudly whispered, giving his dear friend a coy look.

Meanwhile and in stark contrast, atop the other cup, hehetmon peered up at Yeosang with a wide smile and a speech bubble that read 'date?'

Wooyoung had the pleasure of watching years melt off Yeosang's face as his sad puppy look morphed back to pure shock and adoration, a finger pointing at his chest.

"Yes," (y/n) said softly, "you."

"Well," palming the sides of the table, Wooyoung stood up, satisfaction fully lighting his face, "if you'll excuse me, I need to go look for a pastry to get for my brother."

~

Yeosang's heart melted at the way you looked at him. Him, not the confident flirt that was his most annoying best friend, the guy who was too scared to ask you out.

He couldn't believe such a beautiful girl, someone as kind and talented at making sweet, lovely things, wanted to go on a date with him, but he would thank every cloud in the sky if he had to that you did. As long as you weren't just trying to scare Wooyoung off.

"Really? I mean, yeah, I-"

"Good. Then tell your friend there I'm not interested in him, just in my usual sweet regular," (y/n) replied, voice and smile as kind and honeyed as ever, "ok?"

"You are? You really are?" He asked, dreamy smile involuntarily widening.

You simply nodded, smiling that serene smile you always had on when you frosted a particularly pretty cake. "Of course I am. How could I not be when you've been nothing but kind and fun, huh? You can tell your buddy I said that, too!"

"I will. I'll tell everyone," Yeosang replied before he could stop himself.

Your eyes shone, that beautiful color pulling Yeosang in even more. "I like the sound of that."

~

You made your way back to the counter, swinging open the little door and stepping back into the kitchen by the pastry case, where Yeosang's friend wandered back and forth, eyes flicking up to meet yours. When he saw you, he grinned sheepishly, pulling out a wad of bills and slinking over to the tip jar, where he dropped them in.

"For putting up with me and finally, for the love of God, getting him that date."

"You're terrible."

"Funny thing, I hear that a lot."

"But thank you," you added, shaking your head in exasperated mirth, "I needed the excuse to not be as creepy as, well you. For a date, and only if you promise to never do that again, I'll give you one of whatever you were looking at on the house."

"I thought you'd never ask."

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #yeosang #yeosang x reader #yeosang x female reader #female reader #fluff #coffee shop au

[theeblackmedusa]

through your eyes

a/n: @designbydae thank you for this prompt!🩷your mind >>>

i decided to write this with richonne bc it seems very them

Prompt: "Can you write something about two people who have the bright idea to trade eyes so they can see themselves from the other person's perspective? Ideally they're in love but any other details are up to you. Who started the conversation? Do they both think it's a good idea? What are the chances that things could go wrong???...I just think it would be a neat concept if it was something that could happen on real life. Imagine how intimate it would be to feel your lovers eyes in your body or to really see your own body for the first time"

warnings: minors dni as always, language, don't ask me what universe this is set in bc idk lol i just known i love this prompt, fluff and angst, richonne loving each other

wc: 836

Rick didn't have the highest self esteem anymore. In his old life, he was a standout. Handsome, strong, capable. Now, all he saw when he looked at himself was a murderer. A bad man.

He’s killed. A lot. He’s sure that at this point, he’s unredeemable.

He tried to tell her that, tried to let her know that she can't possibly be making the right inference about who he is and the things that he's done, but every time, she told him that she knew what she saw.

She’d made the suggestion one night when he was wallowing in his self-hatred, trying to convince her to get away and to run as far as possible to save herself from his darkness.

I just want you to see what I see, Rick. Just…give it a try for me?

He’d so hesitantly agreed, unable to believe that she saw anything good when she looked at him. He trusted her. He’d put his life in her hands. But, he couldn't shut off the evil voice in the back of his mind telling him that she'd been lying to him the whole time.

More than anything, he wanted to please Michonne, so if him looking at himself through her eyes would make her happy, he’d drink a damn potion and take a look in the mirror.

Now, they were both standing in front of the bathroom mirror with closed eyes as they worked up the courage to open them. As excited as Michonne was to know what Rick saw when looking at her, she knew that something like this could go wrong. What if she didn't really want to know what he really thought? Rick was in the same boat, nervous to find out if that voice in his head had been right the entire time.

“I…I’m going to look,” Michonne finally spoke, breaking the silence that they’d been standing in for God knows how long.

“Thought we were lookin’ together.”

“Then, you look, too.”

Another beat of silence.

“I’m afraid,” he admitted, voice weak and wavering.

“You shouldn't be. This will only prove what I’ve been telling you.”

More silence.

“Alright. I’m ready,” he told her slowly.

“On three?”

1.

2.

3.

Michonne opened her eyes, which were now a piercing shade of blue, and looked at herself in the mirror. She was the most beautiful that she'd ever seen herself, surrounded by a haze of pink and lavender. She was…glowing and she felt her heart skip a beat as she looked at herself.

Emotions were overwhelming her. Admiration, adoration, love…they were all rushing through her when she looked from Rick’s point of view. She allowed herself a smile and she could swear it's never shone so bright.

“This is what you see? I look…perfect?”

She was truly shocked. Sure, she was a confident person, but she had her insecurities. Looking with Rick’s eyes, however, she couldn't spot a single problem with herself.

Rick had yet to respond to her, and she was growing concerned.

She let her gaze flicker to his reflection and her mood changed immediately. Loathing replacing love and abhorrence taking the place of adoration. Her heart broke for him, hating that this was how he felt when he saw himself.

“Rick,” her voice was shaky as if she might cry. “Rick, say something.”

She was hoping that her eyes weren't failing him, that he felt the same amount of love for him that she did when looking through her eyes.

“Rick-”

“I, uh, I don't…this is…new,” he finally spoke.

He didn't quite know how to place what he was feeling as he looked through Michonne’s deep brown eyes. His reflection was flickering between pink and a deep red glow. He didn't feel dark and scary anymore. That voice had finally stopped its raving about how bad he was. Instead, a softer one had replaced it, words like “strong” and “brave” and “nurturing” coming to mind instead of “killer” or “unworthy”.

“Rick, you have to know that what you see…that isn't real. None of it's true. You have to know that. I need you to know that.”

As she continued looking at him through those icy eyes of his, she could feel the shadows leaving her. That hatred had shifted into acceptance, and she couldn't be more relieved to know it.

It wasn't completely fixed, but it was progress. He was adjusting, learning that what he’d been seeing in himself wasn't really him. That was enough for her. She could work with that.

“I love you, Rick. I mean that,” she told him.

“I love you, too. God, I love you,” he exhaled, still staring at his reflection.

They stood in silence once more, taking in their reflections with the eyes of their lover. Neither of them know how long they’d been standing there letting passion and love flow through them, but it was Michonne who broke the silence again.

“I think I want to keep your eyes,” she joked. “I look hot. I mean…really hot.”

#idk what universe this is set in but i just really loved this request #once again thank you for requesting this!! #and thank everyone else who's submitted a request. more to come! #this is so helpful and i'm really appreciative that y'all actually sent stuff in🥰 #fanfiction #fanfic #rick x michonne #twd #richonne #the walking dead #rick grimes #michonne #danai gurira #andrew lincoln #black writer #theeblackmedusa🐍🐍

[imnotfunnysblog]

OK so I'm really excited because I'm finally writing Slytherin's heir again! So here's a little sniping from chapter 30! The next few chapters have been really kicking my ass so let's hope this motivation/ spite for my outline lasts lol.

Snippet:

My face was officially Weasley red, Oh fuck. In all technicality, there was nothing wrong with this article. Perhaps it was a bit iffy for her to look in on our conversation but she didn’t do anything particularly wrong…

On the other hand, I could already see the consequences of this article. Hannah looked like she was brushing off the scattered comments about her relationship with Neville but I could see the deep pink that was settling on her face. I could also see Neville was slowly shrinking into his seat, his eyes fixed on some undetermined point. I didn’t know if I should laugh or feel bad for them, at least they had already gone on a date. It wasn’t like a secret crush had been revealed. I tried my best to justify it but I just felt horrible, I was the one who said his name after all. Marcus had a hand over his mouth, looking like he might explode with laughter, he certainly was having fun. 

But it wasn’t them I was worried about, Daphne’s whole body was completely frozen. My mind rushed to her parents and all she had told me about them. I wrinkled my nose, they’d think her wish to have a relationship is improper. Words I’d heard her use before. If they didn’t speak to her after she won the first task I don’t want to know what they’d do when they found this. I could practically hear the howler that was coming. This was what I was trying to avoid. 

That thought came to a screeching halt as I reread the section about myself- the original reason for the expletive. Oh, no, nope, no, no one but them was supposed to hear that! At the time it was just a rambling mess of nonsense words but put onto paper it sounded so sappy. Marcus had said as much when it first tumbled dumbly out of my mouth. 

Ginny and Harry were staring at me with identical bewildered looks, the twins were as predicted laughing. Their favourite of the stuffed animals they stole clutched in their hands as they cackled. I cringed looking around at the people around us. None of them seemed to focus on their breakfasts. As my eyes roamed around I found Lavender and Pivarti clutching the magazine, Lavender's eyes met mine and I practically watched her swown. Oh fuck no. I looked away. 

“Did you actually say that?” Harry asked as he flipped through the long article. I had said it, and I’d meant every word. I just didn’t mean for people to hear it. 

“What did Hannah mean by her?” Hermione’s voice broke through and any answer I would give Harry. I froze that little detail not on my mind, I turned to Hermione slowly feeling like a cornered animal.  

“Ron?!” A voice interrupting the tense question, Neville who had been sitting a few seats down with Saumus and Dean (both of whom were trailing him with questions and laughter) was now standing right behind me waving his arms, “Please tell me you didn’t know Hannah liked me before I did?” I looked at Dean and Saumus who were both whispering questions about Hannah to Neville who was showing them off. 

I chuckled, “I’ve known since about the start of the tournament but she told me the day before the first task,” 

Dean and Saumus began cackling at the look on Neville's face, and as the twins realized what was happening they did as well, “And you didn’t tell me!” Neville agonised looking like he was going over some embarrassing memory. 

“No,” I said firmly thinking of how upset Hannah would have been if I shared, “Not my secret to tell, I’d be fucking pissed if someone told the girl I liked that I liked her without my permission,” I did not add that Hannah is also very scary and would kill me if I had done so. Neville looked peeved but he was going out with her now, he had no room to complain. I may be friends with him but I was also friends with Hannah. I chuckled thinking about Hannah’s response to my comment, he would definitely be more red if that had been included in the article. Dean and Seamus ushered him away asking questions about the date rather loudly. 

“So there is a girl?” Hermione questioned stopping the scattered laughter. 

#ron weasley #hermione granger #romione #hermione x ron #writers block is killing me #harry potter

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Crown of Flowers

[The Owl House] Amity Blight x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.02k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, but nothing too serious.

[A/N]: Story 2/3 for Amity--one more to go. I'll write for Boscha next, as promised.

Enjoy!

A soft chuckle of amusement slipped past Amity’s lips, her free hand coming up to cover them out of surprise. “What?” She questioned as her steps faltered from the increasing volume of her laughter as she replayed the statement in her mind. [Y/N]’s face flushed as she shared a smile. “Oh, I guess by that reaction I’m wrong.” Her finger gently tapped at her cheek before she looked down in embarrassment. “You really thought people said “break a leg” to actors because every play has a cast?” Again, Amity’s laughter grew in volume, adding to [Y/N]’s flustered expression and making the girl’s face turn an even brighter shade of red.

She playfully nudged Amity’s arm as she failed to bite back her own snicker. “It’s not my fault! Someone seriously told me that’s why people say that, okay?” Her gaze dropped down as she thought for a moment. “Although, now that I think about it, they probably just wanted to see how gullible I am. Guess I fell for it after all.” The two continued to laugh together as they sauntered through the field of grass, which now reached their knees.

A few minutes into walking forward led to a parting of the soft, green blades, revealing an opening of flat, neatly trimmed grass littered with multicolored flowers. [Y/N]’s eyes lit up at the sight of them, though she didn’t move towards them until the two decided they should set up their picnic there. She unfolded the blanket that she had tucked away in the crease of her elbow and let it flutter in the air for a moment before tugging the corners down to flatten it out on the ground. As Amity placed the carefully woven basket down and began to pull a few wrapped items out from it, [Y/N] moved to pick a few of the fully bloomed flowers nearby.

Lavender strands of hair twirled against Amity’s features and framed her face as she turned her head to find where [Y/N] had gone. An eyebrow raised, and she tilted her head to the side with a curious grin. “What’re you doing?” She asked, picking up one of the sandwiches and unwrapping it. She took a small bite out of one of the corners and hummed slightly at the flavor. “Oh, I just wanted to see if I still remember how to make a flower crown,” [Y/N] replied after a moment. She turned at length with a handful of wildflowers and lilies–the only ones that had fully grown in the area so far.

“Flower crown? What’s that?” Before the [h/c] girl could answer, Amity chuckled to herself and crossed her legs as she sat down. “Never mind. How do you make them?” [Y/N] drifted over and sat across from Amity, whose face turned pink at the realization of how close they were sitting to one another. “Well, it’s been a really long time since I’ve made one,” came her reply. A fond smile graced [Y/N]’s lips as she sorted the flowers out by color in front of her.

She plucked a few up from the fabric of the blanket beneath her and lightly bent the stems to test their flexibility. “My older cousin and I used to make them all the time when we were little.” Amity beamed at her and leaned forward to watch, wrapping her food back up and letting it settle on top of her lap. “Why’d you stop?” [Y/N] shrugged gently and let her smile drop. “After she got married–she’s much older than you and I–we stopped spending time together. We still talked here and there, but we never really saw each other in person. I guess I could’ve kept making them on my own, but…it just didn’t seem as special, you know?”

Amity’s gaze softened at seeing how upset she seemed. Without thinking it all the way through, her free hand came up and gently cupped one of [Y/N]’s. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that was why. I get the feeling I shouldn’t have asked about it.” “No, no, it’s okay, I promise. Those memories make me happy. And it’s not like she and I hate each other or anything. We just fell apart.”

The air, now filled with silence, fell uncomfortably upon their shoulders. Just as Amity parted her lips to ask if she was okay, [Y/N] cleared her throat and began to toy with the stems, weaving the flowers together almost effortlessly. “I think I remember how to do it,” she spoke softly. Her eyes flickered back up to Amity’s, prompting the girl to blush again and lean back, letting her hand drop down onto the blanket next to her.

“Want me to make you one?” Now surprised, Amity turned to her fully. “What?” [Y/N] smiled with a small hum and picked up another flower to add to the already growing chain. “Do you want me to make you a flower crown? I think it would look good on you.” If the question alone wasn’t enough to make the lavender-haired girl’s face turn a darker shade of red, the compliment at the end certainly was. It made her breath hitch temporarily in her throat. She coughed to stop herself from choking and covered her mouth with a fist to hide the sound of her gulping down her sheepishness.

“O-Oh, you don’t have to. It’s really up to you,” was all she could mutter out. The offer was small, she knew that, but it still had her heart hammering against her ribs and pounding in her ears.

She had met [Y/N] only a few months prior in school. Being the only human known to live on the Boiling Isles, [Y/N] immediately caught her interest. Not only because of the fact her ears were round and she was attending a school founded on magic without the ability to do so, but also because of how kind and carefree the girl appeared to be. She even seemed to be kind to the cruelest people around–always trying to hear them out to understand their point of view.

Before she knew it, Amity had fallen for her.

They hadn’t even had a proper conversation by the time she realized her feelings.

She kept her emotions hidden, of course, as was her mother’s expectations for all three of her children. Once she grew closer to [Y/N], Gus, and rekindled her previous friendship with Willow, however, it was evident that she wouldn’t be able to hide how she felt forever. One way or another, she’d have to confess. If she didn’t, she’d lose her mind worrying about whether or not someone else would come along and win [Y/N]’s heart over instead. On more than one occasion, she thought about asking Willow or Gus what to do, but she knew they’d probably find a way to let [Y/N] know of her feelings before she was ready. That was something she wasn’t willing to risk.

If she was going to confess to the girl of her dreams, she wanted to do it on her own terms. And if that meant waiting for the right time, then so be it. She would wait a million years if that’s what it took. Her plan so far was to ask her to Grom, and then hopefully confess either during or after the event. Despite how her mother would react, Amity knew she’d be proud to have [Y/N] on her arm. She always boasted about how amazing she was anyway–if they were to ever have something more, being able to call [Y/N] her own would leave her feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

It wasn’t just how [Y/N] treated others that made Amity fall so hard–it was also how selfless she seemed to be. She made Amity feel more loved than she ever had before. Anytime she felt down, whether it be over something that happened at home or at school, [Y/N] was always there to comfort her. Before the day ended, she’d have her crying from laughter rather than sorrow or pain, and she preferred those tears far more.

“Amity? Hello? Are you in there?”

Blinking from surprise, Amity snapped out of her trance, not realizing until then that she had been staring directly at [Y/N] without responding to her. She quickly averted her gaze, looking down at her hands as they picked at each other in her lap. “Sorry! I just–my mind wandered. I didn’t mean to stop listening.”

[Y/N] giggled at her words, forcing a smile to tug at the corners of her lips. “It’s alright, I do that all the time. I understand completely.” Finally, after a few moments, Amity lifted her head to make eye contact again. “So, uh…what were you asking me?” “Oh! I was just wondering if flower crowns are a thing on the Isles. You seemed really surprised when I mentioned them earlier.” [Y/N] glanced down at the crown she had made so far, which was now partially finished. “Well, okay, maybe not surprised, but confused.”

Amity thought for a second, trying to wrack her brain for any memory of them. “If they are a thing here, I haven’t ever seen or heard of one before. Then again, most of the plants here can be deadly in one way or another. It wouldn’t surprise me if people know of them, but are just too hesitant to make one.” A nervous expression creased [Y/N]’s features as her hands froze. She glanced at the flowers between her fingers.

“Uh, these aren’t going to kill me, are they?” Amity giggled and studied the petals of the ones that had been picked. “No, they shouldn’t. The plants that are dangerous–to us witches, anyway–are over towards the wilderness. Most of these are domesticated. A lot of people in the Plant Coven actually plant them to add to the scenery. Willow might’ve even helped at some point.”

A breath of relief escaped [Y/N], who then smiled and continued to work with the flowers in her hold. “Oh, thank goodness. I was worried I’d end up with some kind of rash or pus pockets. Again.” Amity laughed heartily and scooted forward. “No, you’ll be fine. If not, Emira can help treat pretty much everything.” They shared a grin. Silence fell between them again, though it was far more comforting this time. Amity silently watched [Y/N] work, admiring how deftly her fingers wove the thin stems together.

Several minutes later, a small, “aha!” sounded from [Y/N], who then held the crown up delicately. “I guess I do remember after all. Not bad, especially considering how long it’s been since I last made one.” She turned it in her hands before her eyes glanced back up at Amity, who smiled awkwardly. “Want me to put it on for you?” Again, her face turned a shade of crimson. The tips of her fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt and hooked around the hem to grip on. “Oh, I-I–suppose so.”

As [Y/N] lifted the crown up slightly higher, Amity dipped her head down far enough to reach. She shuddered almost unnoticeably at the feeling of the feathery petals grazing the top of her head before planting themselves around the crown of her head. “There we go.” At that, she lifted her head up again, tightening her grasp on her shirt as [Y/N] squealed and pulled out her phone.

“I was right! It looks so pretty on you!” Amity felt her head grow woozy from the amount of times she had grown flustered. She couldn’t have prevented the wide smile that graced her lips if she tried. “Mind if I take a picture? This whole scenery right here,” [Y/N] started, her hand coming up and making a circular motion to refer to what she saw in front of her, “is absolutely perfect.”

Apparently, [Y/N] hadn’t realized what her comment had really meant–or at least how it had come across to Amity. She seemed utterly confused when Amity was left rendered speechless. “Are you okay? There wasn’t something in that sandwich, was there?” After dragging both hands down her face and taking a deep breath, Amity managed to squeak out a small, “no, I’m fine,” before readjusting how she was sitting. “Is a picture okay? It’s fine if you say no,” [Y/N] reassured.

All Amity could do in her sheepish state was nod and give a thumbs up. Another smile crossed [Y/N]’s features as she tapped on her camera icon and held up her phone. She tilted the device a few times to find the perfect angle before pausing and snapping a quick photo. Her arms dropped down, and the pad of her thumb clicked on the most recent photo taken, allowing her to see what she had just captured. Her face burned brightly–almost reaching the same shade of red as Amity’s.

“Oh, wow,” she whispered.

Amity’s attention snapped to her again, her head perking up. “Is something wrong? Was there something on my face?” Absentmindedly, she swiped at her mouth, hoping there hadn’t been anything from the food left there. [Y/N] shook her head lightly, unable to tear her eyes away from her screen. “Was my hair doing something weird?” Again, a small shake of the head was her response. “Then what’s wrong?”

[Y/N] finally forced herself to clear her throat and speak. “Nothing’s wrong. I just, um…it’s not important, really. I was right though: you’re really pretty.” They gawked at each other in silence, both faces bright. Eventually, [Y/N]’s eyes snapped to the basket beside Amity. “So,” she started, mentally slapping herself when her voice cracked and shook. “What did you pack to eat?” Amity jumped at the sudden question. “Huh?” She turned around to look at the basket, which she had forgotten about entirely. “Oh, I just–I packed some–just some sandwiches and f-fruit.”

She picked out a random pair of the two and handed them over, unable to make even a split second of eye contact. “Thanks.”

Uneasily, [Y/N] unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite out of it. Neither of the girls knew what to say, although an idea came to mind when Amity finally let her hand lift up to feel the crown of flowers on her head. “So, do you think you could teach me how to make one of these?” [Y/N] hummed in confusion as she looked up. A small smile finally took place on her lips again. She swallowed her food and wiped her mouth before speaking. “Oh, yeah, of course I can. What kind of flowers do you want to use?”

 Several weeks had passed since [Y/N] taught Amity how to make a flower crown. Over those weeks, she had been working any chance she could to perfect her ability to make them. After school, before and after dinner, during lunch, every weekend, she’d find a decent amount of flowers and make a crown of them. Each time she started a new one, she’d refer to what she had done with the previous one, studying how the stems wrapped around one another and figuring out how to make it better.

And yet, somehow, she also managed to keep her grades up and go to every showcase her parents had planned for her father’s inventions. She was exhausted all the time, but she was fueled by her determination to make things perfect. During the days she spent working on improving the flower crown, she also planned the best way to confess how she felt to [Y/N], who was unaware of all that she was doing. She studied plant language with Willow’s help, and found the right flowers to use for her confession.

Finally, after weaving yet another flower crown together after school one evening, Amity held it up and smiled widely. She knew this was the one she wanted to use for the occasion. Carefully, she used part of her magic to summon a protective bubble around it before gently tucking it away in her closet to make sure Edric and Emira wouldn’t snoop around and find it. She didn’t want to ruin any part of her plan, and although she was on much better terms with her older siblings, she still didn’t want to risk anything.

The only two people who knew of Amity’s plans were Willow and Gus, who were both sworn to secrecy. She waited until it was only a day or two before she carried it out, already noticing that the two of her friends were acting strangely around [Y/N], squirming with excitement and struggling not to blurt out what was going to happen.

She fell asleep that night without struggle, the fatigue from the past several weeks finally catching up to her. She was anxious about things, sure, but she knew she’d have to be well rested in order for things to go according to plan, so she focused on the positive instead.

After classes the next day, [Y/N] waltzed to her locker and waved to a few of her classmates as they headed out the main entrance. She tickled the surface of said locker and quickly placed her books from the day into the large mouth, freezing once she spotted a folded sheet of paper tucked away in the corner. She pulled it from the small space and unfolded it after retrieving her arm before the mouth of the locker could shut on her. With piqued interest, she read the note. She blushed lightly once she recognized Amity’s pristine handwriting.

[Y/N],

Please meet me in the flower field we usually go to after school. I have something really important I need to talk to you about.

-Amity

She felt her fingers gripping the paper tightly, quickly loosening said grip before she could accidentally tear it. “She wants to talk to me about something?” She asked herself softly. A quick glance around the hallway let her know that no one had heard her. With a newfound excitement, she pocketed the letter and began jogging towards the exit and all the way toward where Eda usually picked her up. On time for once, Eda flew down quickly on Owlbert and greeted her.

“Hey, kiddo. Miss Bossy Boots told me I needed to take you out to that field by the Titan’s skull, and that I needed to make it quick. I was gonna just tell her no, but she offered to pay, and you know I’m not gonna turn down some easy money. Hop on.”

[Y/N] smiled at Eda’s nickname for Amity and chuckled at her comment about the payment. She hopped onto the staff and watched as Eda motioned for Owlbert to take off. The two of them flew through the air towards the same flower field she had made a flower crown for Amity over a month prior. About halfway there, Eda turned her head to talk. “So, do you know why she wants you there so quickly? She refused to fill me in on anything. Said I was gonna blab about it when I picked you up.”

“No, I have no idea what’s going on. She left a note for me before you got me though.” Carefully, [Y/N] plucked the sheet of paper out from her pocket and held it tight enough not to fly away with the high winds. Eda’s eyes seemed to sparkle, her eyebrows raising as she smirked knowingly. “Ah, I see,” was all she said. She turned back around and managed to get Owlbert to fly a bit faster to their destination.

After what felt like forever to [Y/N], they landed down in the center of the field. Eda gave her a small hug after she got off of the staff, then turned to face Amity and gave her a thumbs up before flying off again, giving the two girls privacy. Amity waited a moment, watching Eda fly further until she couldn’t be seen before letting her gaze drop down to [Y/N], who stared back at her expectantly.

She walked closer to the [h/c] girl with a sheepish smile. “Hey,” she mumbled out loud enough to hear. [Y/N] grinned back, her energy now matching Amity’s. “Hi,” she uttered back. They both glanced down at their own feet, unsure of what to say, before [Y/N] finally lifted up her hand to show the note that had been left in her locker. “You wanted to talk to me about something?” She questioned. Amity’s face flushed even more and she nodded. “Yeah, I figured now was the best time to do it. I didn’t want to wait any longer.” Barely noticing it, [Y/N] glanced at Amity’s arms, which were tucked behind her back as if they were hiding something. “What’s that?” She asked.

“You’ll see in a moment. It’s a surprise.”

[Y/N] cocked an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay…” She stepped a little closer, folding the letter again and tucking it away in the same pocket as before. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Amity sucked in a deep breath, cleared her throat, and forced herself to finally gaze into [Y/N]’s eyes, which were creased slightly with concern.

Her heart fluttered in her chest. She internally swooned at how kind [Y/N]’s steady glare was, even as the two of them struggled to maintain their composure. “Well,” she started, her voice breaking. She cleared her throat again out of embarrassment before trying again. “Well, I wanted to kind of…confess something to you.” The gears seemed to visibly turn in [Y/N]’s head at her words before a look of recognition and understanding crossed her features.

“Oh,” was all she could say. Amity inhaled as she repeated the words she had been rehearsing in her mind for days. She hoped her voice would remain steady enough to help [Y/N] understand that she wasn’t hesitant, just shy. This was the first time she had ever confessed to someone. She had read about it plenty of times in all of the stories she would read, but she had never even pictured herself carrying out a confession of her own until now.

She had never needed to gather so much courage before–this was all so new to her. Her mind raced with every possibility of how this could go wrong, every way she could be rejected by the one person who seemed to genuinely love and care for her. She just kept telling herself that she had to keep her composure long enough for this moment, and that if it went well, she wouldn’t have to do so much for a while.

“I’m not really sure how to transition into the whole speech I had planned in a smooth way, so I’m just gonna say what I’ve had on my mind for so long now. Ever since you came here, you’ve caught my interest. From the moment I saw you laughing and making friends so easily with everyone around you, I envied you. At least, I thought I did. Looking back on it now, I think I envied those you befriended–and I envied them because I wanted you to look at me and laugh with me the way you did with them. You’re so kind, and understanding, and patient, and so many other things I can’t even begin to describe.

“You make me feel like I’m deserving of every good thing that happens to me, all except you because you’re too good for me. You’re too good for this world. Sure, it seems like the human realm is far more cruel than the Isles, but no matter what happens, you always face everything with a sense of determination I’ve never seen in anyone before. You always seem to know what to say. I can’t even begin to imagine how many people you’ve helped without knowing. There’s always this…look in your eyes when you talk to someone. It’s one I can’t really describe, but I always love seeing it there.

“What I’m really trying to say is that I love you, [Y/N]. I know it may seem sudden, especially considering you’ve only been here for a little under a year, but it’s how I feel. And I thought for a while that maybe this feeling was something temporary, but now I can tell it’s not. You’re my everything, [Y/N]. I love everything about you, and I don’t want to picture my life without you in it, even if we’re just friends. After you showed me how to make those flower crowns, I haven’t been able to stop making them on my own.

“I wanted to make one for you, but I wanted it to be perfect, so…” Finally, her hands surfaced in front of her to reveal a flower crown made of daisies, apple blossoms, and red carnations. [Y/N]’s hands folded together and planted themselves to cover her mouth as she teared up, recognizing the meaning behind each flower.

The daisies a symbol of truly loving someone close,

The apple blossoms a way to say “I prefer you before all,”

And the red carnations a declaration of the presenter’s heart aching for who receives them.

A small whimper managed to escape her quivering lips, barely managing to tear her eyes away from the flowers to look Amity in the eye once more.

“I-I made this for you. I had Willow help me pick out the best ones and study the flower language. If you feel the same way, it would mean the world to me if you wore it. If not, I can…take it back home with me, and we can just–pretend this never happened. Whatever it takes to have you in my life, I’ll do it.” She sucked in a breath shakily and willed her hands to steady themselves as she continued to hold out the crown.

Sheepishly, she glanced at her feet for a moment before returning her gaze to meet [Y/N]’s. She gasped softly upon seeing the tears that pricked her eyes. Her build of confidence faltered at the sight, though she was interrupted before she could even get her words out. “I-I don’t even know what to say,” [Y/N] whispered softly, almost inaudibly. “Amity, I’d be proud to be your girlfriend. I’ll absolutely accept the crown.”

Amity’s eyebrows raised in surprise, a soft red dusting her cheeks. “Really?” She questioned after a moment of processing the words. “Of course.” With that, a smile wider than ever before cracked across her lips. She stepped forward and gently placed the flower crown on [Y/N]’s head once the girl leaned down far enough for her to. Once she was sure it was secure there, she stepped back to gaze at her lovingly. “You look beautiful,” she complimented with pure admiration. An idea presented itself in the front of her mind. She summoned her scroll and found her camera app. “Mind if I get a picture? I figured we could have matching wallpapers that way,” she suggested, still unable to wipe the grin from her face.

“Of course I don’t mind,” [Y/N] replied with a giggle. Proudly, Amity snapped a quick photo before opening her settings and selecting it as her wallpaper. She returned to her home screen and stared at the photo, not realizing how absolutely smitten she looked. Again, [Y/N] laughed softly, earning Amity’s attention. “So, that’s the reason you wanted to learn how to make these so badly, huh?”

Amity joined in with her own laughter and nodded. “You could say that, yeah. I also just like hearing you talk about things you’re passionate about. I like seeing the look in your eyes.” Her golden eyes flickered up to the crown of flowers adorning her girlfriend’s head. Her heart swelled at the realization she could now officially call [Y/N] her girlfriend. “And I really like seeing the flowers like this. You look amazing.”

It was [Y/N]’s turn to blush at the compliment. She rubbed the back of her neck shyly and grinned. “Thank you. You do too, but then again, you always do.” Amity couldn’t help the chuckle that sounded from her. “No way. Not as good as you always do.”

The two beamed at each other warmly–lovingly. After a moment or two, Amity held out her hand for [Y/N] to take. When she did, she led her over to a blanket set up in the same spot as last time, accompanied by a small woven basket filled with treats and a few drinks, which she set out once they sat down together. They chatted about things that had happened throughout the day, laughing at jokes they shared. Hours passed by, and by the time they were finished with their food, the sun had already begun to set. Stars made themselves known in the sky, illuminating the ground below until the moon rose and outshone all of them.

Amity motioned for the two of them to lie down, and once they were comfortable, they gazed up at the sky. Neither of them could wipe the lovestruck smiles from their faces. Every time they spoke, they’d glance at each other, and their smiles would widen again.

Finally, as the conversation died down and the sounds of the smaller wildlife grew to fill the silence, Amity’s hand hesitantly lowered itself down to interlock her fingers with [Y/N]’s. She finally let out a breath of fresh air at the feeling of [Y/N] gently squeezing her hand in her own. Her head turned far enough to let her silently study the vibrant flowers still resting atop her head. Her gaze softened even further. She wondered what kind of flowers she’d use when she made a crown for their first proper date. Maybe they could make one for each other to match.

#amity blight #toh amity blight #toh amity #amity blight x reader #amity blight x female reader #x reader #the owl house #fluff #toh eda #toh edric #toh emira

[mikasas-biggestwhore]

AOT headcanons part 2

We’re doing more random Attack on Titan headcanons to go along with my first post. Most of them are still in a modern age btw

It’s been like 3 months I’m sorry y’all 💀

Includes: Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, Marco, and Historia + Ymir

Reiner

Reiner 100% give his friends noogies. He’s known as the big brother type too and it just kinda comes naturally to him. He doesn’t do it for any specific reason he just does it randomly. The only time he really does them is just to show that he’s happy for someone and it’s a urge he has to give into

Sticking with the big brother thing. Reiner definitely slaps the back of Connie’s head simply because he’s bald. In Reiner’s defense look at Connie and tell me you wouldn’t slap his head isn’t slappable. Like I just want to pop it and that’s how Reiner feels as well.

Reiner sings randomly. I feel like if he honestly got bored and had nothing to do he would start singing the most random as lyrics. Like it can be any song that’s on the top of his head. If he doesn’t have a song he’ll just start make up a song as he looks around

He drinks from the milk jug. I have no reason behind this only that Reiner seems like the type to and simply does it just because he can

He is a big horror fan. He probably loves the classics like Jason, Freddie Krueger, and Cujo. At the same time he doesn’t min the newer horror movies but he just feels like he’s gone back in time when watching the older ones.

Bertholdt

I feel like he’s a big animal lover. After all, Bertholdt may be big but he’s a gentle giant. Dogs are probably one of his favorite animals especially Great Danes because they are gentle giants like he is

He works as a librarian. He seems like the type to work in a quiet and peaceful space because it’s not a taxing job and all he really does is organize books all day or I see him as a yoga teacher because of those poses he makes when he sleeps.

He did dance when he was younger. That’s my only reason on behind why he was so flexible when he sleeps. Ballet specifically. Like have you seen those ballerinas and how flexible they are. I’ve done ballet before and trust me the flexible is long lasting so after Bertholdt stopped he just remain flexible as a rubber band.

I feel like he cooks in his off time. Like he keeps him at piece and it’s easy. Bertholdt probably has anxiety over new things so it’s for him because all he has to do it follow a recipe with cooking. Because of him cooking all the time he is probably a amazing cook

He puts out food and water out for all the stray dogs and cats. Like Bertholdt’s house is probably a literal safe haven for all strays. Bertholdt tries his hardest to try and find them all good homes and so far he’s been successful but there’s still more animals to help

Annie

It’s known that Annie like sweets so I feel like her favorite drink to sip is hot chocolate. She drinks it a lot more during the colder months to have something that can warm her up

HEAR ME OUT BUT ANNIE AS A PROFESSIONAL BOXER. She would literally be so good and win tons of championships. Like as soon as her opponent gets word of them fighting her they usually drop out because they are terrified of Annie.

I feel like she goes to the gym 24/7. If she’s stressed she goes to the gym. Needs to think? Goes to the gym. Bored? She’s going to the gym. That’s the reason behind her being so muscular and just JDBSKJXJS in general. Yes I am Annie simp

If Annie were to ever have pets I feel like she would have tons of reptiles. She seems like the type to have tons of snakes and lizards mostly. She walks around in her house with them just hanging on her. It’s normal to see her walking around her house with a Bearded dragon on her shoulder and a python curled on the other and is sitting on her head.

She paints her nails every so often just to feel feminine. They are never any drastic colors like a neon pink or bright green. She prefers softer colors like maybe baby blue and light lavender. Sometimes she’ll be different and paint them in a pattern just to be different

Marco

Because of his freckles, I feel like Marco has mistaken one as something that was on his face only to figure out it was one of his freckles and felt stupid afterward 

I feel like Marco has small scars all over his body. Like he’s a clumsy person but most of them stemmed back from when he was a kid. Back then he was way more clumsy then he is now and it was normal for him to have bandaids in several places at a time.

I can’t imagine Marco holding his alcohol very well and he isn’t bad when drunk he’s just extremely cuddly. Like you have to watch him because he just wants to hug about everyone simply because he thinks everyone deserves a hug.

This mf is terrified of spiders. If you ever see one of those baby spiders crawling on him don’t say anything or Marco will actually flip. There have been several occurrences where Marco is in a chair or on top of a table because there’s a big ass spider on the floor

If he were to ever have a job I feel like he would be a florist that decorates peoples backyard and weddings. I don’t know how to explain it but he simply seems like he would be so great at it. Like you have a ugly ass backyard hire Marco and he will bring you to tears at the beauty of what he’s done

Historia +Ymir

(I can’t see them apart so they are together)

Historia likes forcing Ymir to go on cute dates she saw on the internet. Of course Ymir called them dumb and didn’t like going on them so after some negotiating they go on one once a week. Ymir says there still dumb but Historia can tell she’s enjoying them.

When they lay in bed together Historia will deny it but she hogs the covers and snores extremely loud like Ymir got really confused when she first realized it was Historia. Ymir isn’t any better because she talks in her sleep constantly

They have been caught making out numerous of time. Ymir can literally give to shits about what anyone says while Historia gets all panicked about them getting caught.

Your can’t tell me they wouldn’t go to a pride parade together. Of course it was pride month and it was Historia’s idea to go to the pride parade. You can bet Historia’s dressed herself in complete rainbows. Ymir was not as flashy but wore rainbow bracelets.

Honestly Historia probably has a strict skin routine and Ymir makes fun of her for it but once Historia did it for her and she’s been obsessed since. She loves how soft her face felt after Historia massaged essential oils into it. They now both do skin routines together

I might do a part 3 and then that’s probably gonna be it 👩🏽‍🦯

#attack on titan #aot headcanons #reiner braun #bertholdt hoover #annie leonhardt #marco bott #historia reiss #ymir snk #attack on titan reiner #snk bertholdt #annie snk #attack on titan ymir #ymir x historia #reiner headcanons #bertholdt headcanons #ymir headcanons #reiner snk #anime #animals #headcanons #writing #aot bertholdt #aot fluff #aot historia #aot reiner #aot marco #aot ymir #snk reiner #snk historia #aot anime

[clarepreed]

Fade Part Two: Small Beginnings

Story Content and Summary - 6,006 words. Deirdre and Archer, aware of an electric connection between them, begin to get to know each other as they make a new friend. No resus (yet). Symptoms.

Part One

--

Archer tamped down his nervous energy as he crossed the street, headed for the downtown breakfast place where he had agreed to meet Deirdre. Three days had passed since she’d saved him from a likely stabbing, just before fainting dead away in his arms. Three days of texting back and forth and one phone call. Three days of not being able to stop thinking about her, about her bravery and her voice and her eyes and her scent. 

The chime jingled as he opened the door, briefly dissipating his thoughts. He nodded to the host, murmuring that his date was already here, seated on the back patio. The young woman directed him to cut through the dining room and out the open garage-style door near the rear corner. He spotted Deirdre as soon as he was outside, at home in the restaurant’s garden, her hair down and her petite hands wrapped around a white mug. When she saw him, she sat the mug down and stood, pretty in a denim jacket and a dark blue dress that flared out from a fitted bodice down to her knees.

“You found it,” she murmured, gazing up at him with a broad smile.

Archer opened his arms instinctively before his thinking brain caught up with the rest of him. He offered her an apologetic grin, but didn’t lower his arms. “I’d like to hug you, if that’s okay.”

“Please.” Deirdre stepped closer to him, her arms sliding around his waist as he bent to embrace her. Her hair smelled like lavender and something sweet, and he had to force himself not to inhale deeply. He hugged her, aware he was holding her tight and too long, only to be surprised when he released her and she clung to him a few seconds longer. When she let go, she offered another smile and murmured in her careful way. “It’s good to see you.”

As they were seating themselves a server approached, setting a glass of water at Archer’s place and handing him a menu. “What can I get you to drink, sir?”

“Coffee, please.” He smiled up at the server. “With cream.”

The server nodded and reached for a small kettle near Deirdre. “I’ll get you some fresh hot water, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

He watched her drain the mug. “You got here early?”

“I did. I wanted to sit outside for a bit. Cheryl, the owner, told me she didn’t mind.” Deirdre leaned forward, her brow furrowing as she leafed through a small basket of sachets. “She just opened this place. I think I could like her. I met her at last months Downtown Business Association meeting.”

“It’s warmer out here than I expected.” Archer shrugged out of his brown leather jacket and draped it over the back of his chair.

“Autumn is a fickle season,” Deirdre replied, though her eyes were still on the tea. He watched her squint at one of the sachet tags before glancing up at him. “This is supposed to be a selection of herbal tisanes, but I like to make certain before I drink it.”

“You’re avoiding caffeine,” Archer guessed. He’d grilled Asa for any information about Deirdre’s condition that his brother could offer without examining her, from causes to antagonists to treatments. Asa had not held back, either from a professional desire to educate or from a sibling’s need to protect. Archer appreciated the information either way.

Deirdre arched an eyebrow at him, then nodded, her slim fingers plucking a tea bag from the basket. She unwrapped the sachet and dropped it into her empty mug. Her cheeks flushed pink. “It wouldn’t do to faint on you again.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t feel embarrassed, I mean. I’m glad you check these things.”

She smiled at him, then gestured at the menu. “My favorite thing here is the farmer’s breakfast, with fruit. I’ve been here multiple times a week since it opened.”

Archer grinned and dropped his eyes to the menu, skimming down the page until he found the dish in question. “Bacon or sausage, eggs to order, roasted tomato… I’ve never had grits.”

“Get them with jalapeño cheddar,” Deirdre said. He glanced up in time to catch her wink. 

“Alright, I’m entrusting my breakfast to your judgement,” he said. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling, especially when Deirdre kept smiling back at him. The server arrived then, dropping off a fresh pot of hot water for Deirdre, as well as a mug of coffee and a tiny pitcher of cream for Archer. He grinned ruefully at the server. “I’m having what she’s having.”

Deirdre laughed and explained: “Farmer’s breakfast. Bacon, eggs over easy, jalapeño cheddar grits, and fruit.”

“Perfect,” the server intoned. “Will this be one check, or—”

“One, please,” Deirdre replied, before Archer could open his mouth. “I’ve got it.”

“Deirdre—”

“Please, let me. As a thank you.” She smiled at the server as they left their table, then turned that smile on Archer. “I usually like to split, but I would very much like to treat you today.”

Archer poured a splash of cream into his coffee and stirred it with his spoon. He resisted the urge to dry the spoon with his mouth as he would have done at home, letting it drip for a moment into the mug before placing it on the saucer beneath. “The gesture is appreciated, and I won’t push it, but I’m pretty sure the entire reason you were unwell and needed help is because you saved my life. I should probably be buying you breakfast for the rest of my life, considering.”

He watched her fill her mug with hot water and then wrap her hands around the steaming mug.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you about your job,” Deirdre prompted, leaning forward in her chair. “But I wanted to ask you when I could watch you talk. You move your hands around a lot. And smile. I like watching you.”

“I don’t even notice what my hands are doing half the time,” Archer muttered, turning his hands palm-side up on the table. He felt warmth burn across his cheeks and in his chest as he thought about Deirdre enjoying the view. “Until I knock something over, that is.”

Then he took a sip of his coffee, wincing when it was still too hot. “As for my job, I write novels. I have two published books and I’m working on a third right now.”

“I have a confession,” Deirdre said, her grin canting sideways. “I Googled you.”

“I would be surprised if you hadn’t, honestly. I searched for you, too. Found lots of local news articles and your Instagram account. Thanks for accepting my follow, by the way. Oh, I found your business accounts, too. Your shop has a great online presence!”

“I bought your books. They should be here by the end of the day. I’d like you to tell me about them, though.” Deirdre wore a beaded necklace, several strands of seedlike beads in various shades of blue that wove together and nestled against her collarbones. Archer found his eyes tracing the line where the necklace met her skin. “You titled your debut Woe?”

Archer smiled, laughed, and shook his head. “My publisher named it that, and I was too anxious about getting published to argue. I originally called it Ides. I don’t want to give too much away, but that title will make sense once you read it. Also, thank you for buying my books. That’s…. It’s awesome, Deirdre. I still get just as excited each time someone I know wants to read my writing. Don’t, ah, let it stress you out, though. Woe, I mean.” He gave her what he hoped was only a half-serious look. 

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she replied, laughing softly. “But I’ll keep your warning in mind.”

“It’s about grief,” he explained. “I was getting some things out. The next book was much more lighthearted. Almost didn’t get that one published.”

“Why not?”

“It’s very different from Woe. It’s about a cardiologist who befriends a funeral home director. Asa helped me with the research. I employed a fair amount of magical realism.” He shook his head. “If you read it, you’ll see how different Bloodlines is from Woe, and I think you’ll understand why they were hesitant to publish a novel so different from my first.”

“I will be sure to let you know what I think.” She sipped her tea, her attention briefly caught by a squirrel hovering at the edge of the patio. Then she blinked and looked back at him. “What about your current work?”

“My agent and publisher hate me,” he laughed. “This one’s about fairies!”

***

Deirdre felt a wave of pleasant surprise roll through her and forced herself to take a deep breath before she smiled at Archer. “Fairies?”

She’d obviously thrilled him by asking, a boyish grin dominating his features and his big, long-fingered hands floating up to gesture as he spoke. “So, there are fae in every culture on Earth, at least as far as I’ve been able to determine. People think fairies are simply European mythology, but there are stories from Africa, Asia and the Middle East, Central and Latin America… Anyway…” He trailed off, his eyes shifting from her face to the server, who was approaching their table with two plates.

The server placed their food in front of them. “Is there anything else I can get you? Refresh your coffee?”

“Ah,” he glanced down at his mug and then met the server’s eyes. “Please.”

Deirdre reached for a piece of bacon, watching as he collected his thoughts and picked up his fork. She allowed herself a moment to enjoy the explosion of fat and salt when she bit into the thick-cut bacon they served here. Her eyes briefly closed, and when she opened them, Archer’s eyes were on her mouth.

“Must be good,” he said, and she watched him try not to laugh. “It looked like you went to heaven for a second there.”

“I like bacon.” She blotted her lips with her napkin, her cheeks flushing hot. “Tell me more about your book!”

“Oh, it’s… I just wanted to enjoy writing something. It turned out my favorite parts of Bloodlines were the parts where I indulged in magical realism. So I’m writing a fantasy novel, but it’s going to be published alongside Woe as literary fiction, or at least general fiction. I’m being sneaky.” He broke his yolks with the tines of his fork. “So my work-in-progress assumes that the stories about the fae are based in reality.”

Dierdre made herself spear a cube of cantaloupe with her fork, but she kept her attention focused on Archer. “I think I would very much like to read it when it’s finished. Is there anything else you can tell me, or is it off-limits while you write?”

Archer took a moment to eat his eggs, nodding at the server as they refilled his coffee. He splashed a bit of cream into his mug. “I could talk all day about my novel. But Asa tells me that’s rude, though he frequently indulges me.”

Before she could respond, he shrugged and continued speaking. “There’s also the danger I tell you all about it and then end up taking it in a different direction.”

“But what made you choose fairies?” She forced herself to dig into her meal once the question was out, though it was hard to eat, both because of her interest in the subject and the way his warm brown eyes continually drifted to her mouth. 

“I’ve thought about this a lot,” Archer replied, wiping his mouth with his napkin before he continued. “I was obsessed with magic as a child. You couldn’t have convinced me of anything except that it was real. I loved all of it. Dungeons and Dragons, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Wheel of Time, Mists of Avalon… I could keep going. Asa used to tease me, saying I was just waiting for my magic to come in.”

He fell abruptly silent, his eyes unfocused with memory. Deirdre gave him a few long seconds before she spoke. “Were you?”

Archer blinked and his eyes refocused, a grin edged with sadness pulling on his handsome face. “Yeah. I was, truthfully.” His face flushed red.

“I think that’s wonderful,” she murmured, her voice soft. “But you stopped?”

He hesitated, then made an apologetic face. “‘I grew up’ sounds like an asshole thing to say right now. Because you seem genuinely interested, and I’m over here…” He lifted his hands and shrugged.

“You aren’t embarrassed, are you?” Deirdre took a sip of tea. “I hope you know you’ve said nothing you should feel embarrassed about.”

He flashed her a rueful smile that took up a surprising portion of his face. Even embarrassed, or however he was feeling, his smiles seemed to come often and easily. “It’s just that I was about to sound bitter. And I don’t want to do that this morning. I like you, Deirdre.”

“I like you, too.” Deirdre reached across the table and one of his hands met hers halfway. Their fingers intertwined, and she let out a soft gasp at the energetic frisson that traveled through her skin at his touch. The sensation was akin to magic, and she pressed her other hand to her chest, afraid she would cast a telltale blue glow.

His fingers gripped hers. “Deidre? Are you okay?” His eyes dropped to her hand pressed to her chest.

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” After a second’s hesitation, she dropped her hand. His eyes lifted to her face; evidently she wasn’t doing anything else unusual as far as he was concerned. “It wasn’t my heart.”

***

Archer ran his thumb across Deirdre’s knuckles. She’d lowered her hand from her chest and he heard her reassure him that nothing was wrong. He gave her an evaluating look, noting her relaxed posture and pink petal coloring. Then he grinned. “You needed to burp, and I called you out.”

Deirdre’s light eyes went wide, and then she yelped with laughter. “Excuse me!”

“You’re excused.” Archer smiled and squeezed her hand. “Do you have time for a walk after this? We’ve finished our food, but I’m not ready for this… date to be over.”

“I have time.” Deirdre seemed to feel much the way he did, her face caught in an endless smile as she notably did not disagree with his classification of breakfast as a date. “This is a ‘by appointment only’ day. And I don’t have an appointment until late afternoon.”

“How was everything?” the server asked, appearing at their table.

“Great,” Archer said, looking up at them. “Thank you.”

Deirdre released his hand, reaching for the small padded folder as the server extended it. She tucked a card into the pocket at the top and handed it back.

“Thank you,” Archer said again. Deirdre winked at him. Sunlight trickled through the tree branches overhead, dappling Deirdre’s hair and making her eyes look especially blue. She drained the last of her tea as the server returned with her card and a receipt to sign.

They made their way out of the restaurant and turned right onto the tree-lined sidewalk. Archer extended his arm and found she was already reaching for him, their palms matching and fingers lacing together. He slowed his stride to account for her petite frame.

“This is okay, right?” He peered down at her. “Going for a walk? Is it safe for you, I mean?”

“This is great. Being sedentary is no better for me than anyone else.” She sighed. “I wouldn’t try to play a game of soccer or run a race, I don’t think. But walking is fine.”

Archer wished he could see her face. He let them walk in silence for the rest of the block, appreciating the fresh air and the feel of her hand in his. Finally, he asked: “Is it okay that I asked my brother about your condition?”

He felt rather than saw her startlement. “Is it okay? Yes, of course. Most people just look things up online, but you’ve got your brother for that. Do you have questions for me?” Deirdre, still gripping his hand, reached across her body with the other and took hold of his arm. The gesture pulled them closer together.

“I do, actually,” he chuckled ruefully. “I wanted very much to text you my questions, but I told myself to be patient.”

“What do you want to know?” She was still speaking in her careful and delicate way, evidently unperturbed by the conversation. He could feel her warmth beside him, and her hand, though small, felt solid in his. 

“Asa wondered if you had an implanted device. I keep trying to call it an IED. Or an IUD. But it’s—”

“An ICD,” she interrupted, laughing. “But no, I don’t have one.”

Archer frowned. Asa made it sound like it was important that she have one, that a patient actually experiencing symptoms from their LQTS was in quite a bit of danger. His brother also mentioned medications she might take, so Archer asked about them, trying to keep his worry from his voice. “Do you take medicine for it? Asa said you might.”

“A beta blocker.” She squeezed his hand, then asked carefully, “Are you worried?”

Archer didn’t know her well enough yet to read her tone. He slowed down and looked around them before spotting an empty bench. “Not worried, so much as… Ah. It’s probably not what you think. Could we sit for a minute?” He let all of his air out in an anxious rush. 

Deirdre consented, though her brows dipped slightly. She kept hold of his hand as they sat together, turned slightly toward each other. Cars drove past, and people walked behind them. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You were saying?”

“I’m making you nervous,” Archer said, feeling slightly horrified. “Deirdre—”

“I was just thinking that we were having a nice time and how much I wanted to see you again.” Her eyes looked almost purple in the shadow of a sapling.

“I want the same thing,” Archer said. He wanted to reassure her, his eyes roving over her face, trying to read the minutiae of her expressions. A little tension around her eyes, easing as she breathed, watching him in return. “And I thought if we were going to be spending time together, I ought to know about your heart condition. Just in case.”

“Oh,” she said, her voice quiet and her lips curling up into a smile. “Very pragmatic.”

“I know you live by yourself and run your own business. I wouldn’t want you to feel controlled or underestimated.” Archer looked down at their clasped hands, then up at Deirdre’s face. The tension he’d spotted around her eyes was gone. “We have a connection, I think. I just want to make sure I do everything I can if you ever need my help.”

“Do you have any life-threatening allergies?” Deirdre asked, surprising him.

“Allergies? Oh… ah, no, not that I’m aware of. Asa is allergic to bees. I know how to use his Epi-pen.”

“What about asthma? Seizures?”

“No. I’m very lucky,” he told her. He ran his thumb over her knuckles again. “I get an annual physical to satisfy Asa. My cholesterol is excellent.”

Deirdre smiled. The expression reached her eyes and made her face glow. “I’m good, aside from the arrhythmia.”

“Just that one little thing,” he said, raising his eyebrows and chuckling. His eyes dropped to her mouth. Her bottom lip was fuller than the top, and both lips looked like they would be soft and warm if he kissed her. When he kissed her. Perhaps not out here, however. The bench was uncomfortable, though the row of saplings was nice. There were too many people out and about, and a number of vehicles trundling up the one-way street. Perhaps when they got to her store, he could ask her—

Mew! A small, sweet sound from somewhere by Archer’s feet.

***

He was looking at her mouth again. Archer’s eyes were warm and dark, his own mouth pulled into a dreamy sort of smile. His hair slipped forward, curling against his temple and cheek.

Deirdre considered whether or not she should ask if she could kiss him now, or if she should wait until they got to her store. They could slip into the back for a few moments. She could make him tea, sit with him in the pleasant space she’d set up for her office. They could talk. Then she would come close to him and push his hair back and ask him—

Mew! A tiny voice, like a bell.

Deirdre looked for the source of the sound and spotted a little gray body threading itself between Archer’s feet. She released his hand and quickly bent over, nearly clocking her head against Archer’s as he did the same. He caught the kitten with one of his big hands, then gingerly handed it to her, leaning close.

“Hello, sweetling,” Deirdre crooned, cuddling the kitten against her abdomen and curling a finger underneath its chin. The kitten struggled briefly, then relaxed, and she felt a subtle vibration in its throat.

“It’s so small,” Archer murmured. He reached out and gently lifted the kitten’s back leg. “She’s so small.”

“Do you see any others? Sometimes when the little ones are loose like this, it means someone dumped a litter. I hope not.” Deidre kept the kitten cuddled close, watching as Archer stood and walked over to the entrance to a nearby alley. She glanced down at the kitten. “Or perhaps you were just smaller than your brothers and sisters and got separated. I know what that’s like.”

“I don’t know where she came from,” Archer said. He sat back down beside her and reached out carefully, scratching the kitten between her eyes with the tip of one of his long fingers. “She has your eyes. Blue. Almost purple.”

Deirdre laughed. “Does she?”

“Yes. Another similarity.” Archer looked up at her. “Your siblings are tall? I heard what you said.”

“Everyone in my family is tall but me,” she said, sighing. “I’m the runt.”

“That’s not the most flattering way to refer to someone who is petite,” Archer chastised gently.

“I know. Self-deprecation is a bad habit.”

His leg nudged hers. “In Regency era England, you’d have been called a ‘pocket Venus.’”

“A what?” Deirdre cocked an eyebrow at him. “Should I feel insulted?”

“Not at all. Possibly offended that I’m calling attention to your body.” He offered her a sideways grin that did something to her, low in her belly. “A ‘pocket Venus’ is a beautiful, petite woman with an hourglass figure.”

“That’s much nicer than ‘runt.’” Deirdre looked down at the kitten. “She’s falling asleep.”

“She seems very young. I’m sure she’s exhausted.”

“Do you think it would be wrong of me to keep her?” Deirdre felt a sharp pang in her chest. Not her syndrome, she didn’t think. Emotion. The idea of giving up this sweet creature in her lap pained her.

“Why would it be wrong?”

“She might already have a home…” Deirdre trailed off as Archer shook his head.

“I don’t think so. She’s tiny and needs a bath. I think that if you want her, you should take her with you. In fact…” Archer leaned back, looking further down the sidewalk. “Isn’t there some kind of pet boutique between here and your shop?”

“Yes. They should be open.” She looked up at Archer and nodded. “I’m keeping her. This is my cat. I’ll get her supplies for home and work. Hopefully she doesn’t mind the car…”

“What will you name her?”

“Fae.”

***

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take some of that off your hands?” Deirdre asked. She had the kitten cradled against her chest while she dug her keys out of the small bag she wore across her body.

“I’m fine. You’ve got your hands full of precious cargo.” Archer had a soft-sided cat carrier slung over his shoulder and carried bags with food, toys, bed, litter box, and small dishes inside. They’d already dropped another set of similar items off at Deirdre’s car. While they were there, she’d taken the crying kitten out of the carrier, whispering something in the kitten’s ear and holding her close.

Deirdre let them into her store and flipped on the lights before leading him toward the back. Archer registered a riot of plants and islands of color; the store appeared to be set up like a series of open-plan rooms. He followed Deirdre across the hardwood floor and past an attractive high top table and chairs. A few steps down to another locked door, and then she led him into a sunny office space with tall windows and another abundance of plants. A sofa lined the wall across from the windows. There was a small desk in the space, as well as a kitchenette and doors leading to a bathroom and the exterior.

“That’s why that interior door is so hefty. Makes it harder to smash the windows in the front or back and get to both the stock and my office. Just put everything on the sofa for now,” Deirdre directed, setting her purse on her desk. “Thank you so much for going shopping with me. I rarely make such impulsive decisions…”

“Your impulses have been saving lives,” Archer said, depositing the bags on the sofa as requested. “Mine, Fae’s… Maybe being impulsive isn’t so bad?”

Before she could answer, a chime pealed overhead. Deirdre sighed, then smiled. “A customer. Do you mind watching Fae?” She carefully detached one of the kitten’s claws from the front of her dress and held her out to Archer. He took the tiny, soft pouf into his hands, smiling involuntarily.

Archer watched Deirdre hurry through the office door, then looked down at the kitten in his hands. She was blinking sleepily and peering over his fingers, her diminutive tail lifting over her back. He cupped the kitten in his palm and scratched her between the ears. “Alright, little one. Let’s get you set up while Deirdre makes a sale.”

He attended to the task one-handed, finding a spot in the bathroom for the litter box and filling it with litter. He tucked the litter jug underneath the sink. Then he sat the shallow food and water bowls by the sofa after filling the water bowl at the sink. He sat the food and toys on Deirdre’s desk; the toys would need to have the tags cut off. The cat bed he tucked into a corner of the sofa. The bed was small and round, with a section of soft fabric curving over half of the bed to form a cave.

Archer leaned over the sofa, wondering if the kitten would tolerate the bed, or if she would hate the new scent and miss the warmth of her human companions. Experimentally, he gently deposited Fae into the bed, the corner of his mouth crooking as she stretched and yawned. Her little mouth opened, and she mewled at him. Then her attention caught on a fuzzy ball hanging from the mouth of the cave by a length of sisal. The kitten huddled, her little tail swishing back and forth. Then a paw reached up for the ball, tiny claws extending.

“…leave me be! GO!”

Deirdre’s voice, raised and carrying from the front of the store. Archer straightened, his eyes darting briefly to assure himself that the kitten remained occupied before he strode to the door.

“Deirdre, you need to come home.” Another woman’s voice, another woman who enunciated carefully like Deirdre. “This game you’re playing will kill you. Receive treatment and let us care for—”

“NO! I will never—” Deirdre’s voice dropped, and an unintelligible series of syllables escaped her. 

Archer stopped at the bottom of the steps, his eyes scanning the interior of the store. He spotted the customer first from behind, a tall woman with her hair swept up into a chignon and a plaid poncho around her shoulders. Deirdre faced her, standing slightly to the side. She looked distressed, her color high, and her hands curled into fists. “Deirdre? Is everything okay?”

The tall woman turned gracefully to face him, and Archer blinked in momentary confusion. The woman was very slim, her long-fingered hands slightly raised as she turned to face him. Her brows were thick like Deirdre’s, and her face closely resembled the smaller woman’s, though the features appeared thinner and more drawn out. The woman lowered her hands, gazing at Archer with open interest.

“This is my aunt, Foraoise.” Archer would have to ask Deirdre how to spell that name, which sounded like FOR-eesh. “She was just leaving.”

The woman nodded. “Deirdre, who is—”

“This is my friend Archer. And Archer and I have things to do, if you aren’t going to buy anything.” Deidre sounded fierce, but to Archer’s dismay, her eyes glistened.

Foraoise turned back to Deirdre. “Alright, child. I shouldn’t have come here and upset you. Please, lock the door behind me and take a moment to relax. Does he know about your condition?”

“Yes,” Deirdre replied, her voice low and flat. Then her tone softened. “He’s very good about it.”

“Then you’ve had more spells.”

“Foraoise—”

“I love you,” Foraoise said, though she followed that with a word Archer didn’t make out. “Please, take care of yourself.”

A few seconds passed, and Deirdre spoke softly. “I love you, too.”

The tall woman glanced over her shoulder at Archer, flashing him a quick smile even as he took in the worried lines between her brows. Then she was gone, striding with rapid grace from the store.

“I’ll be right there,” Deirdre murmured. He watched her lock the front door, then make her way to the back steps. She looked pale now, aside from a spot of color on each cheek.

Archer reached for her, his hands hovering a mere inch from her arms. “Are you okay?” he asked, as Deirdre descended to the step just above him. Her position put her closer to his face. He could kiss her simply by lowering his head, without having to bend so far over.

“Archer,” she said, her breath hitching.

“Deirdre?”

“May I kiss you?”

He answered her by dipping his head and covering her mouth with his own. The kiss began with softness, but then she inhaled audibly and her lips parted. Archer deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing just inside her bottom lip. She tasted vaguely sweet, like melon or honeyed tisane. His scalp and hands tingled, and he moved his body closer to hers, one hand sliding beneath her jacket to rest on her lower back, the other coming up to sink into the silk of her hair. Her delicate hands were on him; one pressed to his chest, the other curling around his nape.

Archer moved to rub her back in a big, slow circle, but when his fingers shifted upward, he encountered bare skin. The back of her dress was cut low, hidden by her jean jacket. He stroked her smooth skin, and Deirdre’s hand on his chest slid around to his back. Their bodies arched, pressing hard against each other, her breasts soft between them. The tingling sensation swept through his body before gathering in his groin, and he broke their kiss with a gasp, trailing a series of kisses up her jaw and then down her neck to soften the transition.

Deirdre breathed in short pants, her hands sliding up and down his back, over his shoulders, along his hips. “Archer…” Her voice came out a whisper.

Archer nuzzled beneath her ear. She smelled so nice, floral and herbal and sweet at the same time. He wanted to lick her skin there, nibble her earlobe. But he also knew they were moving fast. And she was technically at work. “Deirdre?”

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. She leaned forward, pressing her face into his shirt. “I got so upset earlier, and I’m so sorry, but I think I should sit down.”

Archer shifted her in his arms, trying not to let worry drive him as she swayed on her feet. “Hey, don’t apologize. I’ll carry you to the sofa.” Before she could respond, he scooped her up, one arm behind her back and the other behind her knees. Deirdre let out a surprised huff of air, grabbing first at his shirt and then his shoulder, and Archer reflected that this sudden action was possibly the opposite of what he should have done. Glancing down at his feet to make certain he wasn’t about to step on Fae, Archer carried Dierdre into the office and deposited her carefully on the end of the sofa opposite the cat bed. 

“Where is she?” Dierdre asked, her voice thick.

Archer leaned over, squinting into the little cave. The kitten’s wee form was barely visible in the back. He reached in and gently plucked her up, then deposited the sleepily struggling ball of fur into Deirdre’s lap. “Here she is. She’s been very sleepy.”

“I’ll take her to a vet tomorrow.” Deirdre stroked the kitten and took a deep breath.

“How are you feeling?” Archer crouched in front of her, his hands on her knees. “Do I need to call 9-1-1, or Asa?”

“Neither.” Deirdre patted the sofa cushion next to her. She looked pale, but nothing like she had the night of the attempted mugging. “I had palpitations and felt lightheaded when Foraoise left. I should have sat then. But I wanted to kiss you.”

Archer rose and sat beside her, careful not to sit on the cat bed or jar Deirdre and the kitten. “So it wasn’t the kiss that caused you to feel unwell?”

“No.” She smiled up at him, her color already better and her hand moving slowly over the kitten’s soft fur. “I enjoyed our kiss.”

“Seeing your aunt stressed you out.”

“I love her, and she’s not a bad person at all. But yes, seeing her gave me quite the shock. We’re… estranged.” She sounded sad, and Archer found himself reaching out and running his knuckles down her cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

She sighed, her hand lifting from Fae to reach up and rub the muscles in her neck. “My family worries about me. But they think that entitles them to make decisions about my life.”

“Here, let me do that.” Archer waited for her to lower her hand, then he slipped his own beneath her hair. He worked his fingers down the back of her neck, rubbing firmly as he sought out the knots and trigger points in the muscles. Deirdre closed her eyes. He saw her shoulders relax. 

He wanted to ask her more about her condition and why she was estranged from her family. Asa had made it clear to him that many people live symptom free with Long QT Syndrome. The patients his brother worried about were the ones reporting heart palpitations and fainting spells. This was, however, not the moment to bring it up. Archer cupped the back of her neck where he’d been rubbing, then leaned in to kiss her temple.

Deirdre tipped her head up toward him. “Kiss me again, Archer.”

Her eyes were pools, drawing him in. He could feel the energy flowing between them, an attraction like nothing he’d experienced before. A gnawing pain started in his stomach, a couple of inches below his sternum and just to the left. It was the spot that always hurt when he was anxious. Otherwise, his body was already responding to her, his limbs tingling and his muscles tightening. He felt alight with the painful knowledge of what he was getting into and the realization that he was going to get into it regardless.

Archer bent his head and kissed her.

--

Part Three

#resus writing #fantasy resus

[littlecinnamonroll]

Sweet Like Cinnamon

hi lovelies! still currently on my giyuu and rengoku brainrot and I have a lot of drafts I finally touched up that I’m excited to post again!! but for now, here’s a little drabble that I’ve been working on!

Ft. Giyuu Tomioka, fem!reader

She smells like cinnamon, he thought, eyes following your figure as you walked past in deep conversation with the Fire Pillar, the Love Pillar only several paces behind. The pink-haired woman had been waiting on her serpent counterpart, waving Obanai and his snake down from a ways away. Though he’d positioned himself to where he’d be less than noticeable, a small part of him hoped you’d see him as you turned around to beckon Obanai.

You usually smelled sweet to Giyuu Tomioka, his eyes softening slightly when you’d lean in to listen to him. His words were frugal and less than lively, but there was just something about you that kept words spilling off his tongue. Maybe it was that spicy scent that lingered whenever you were near, the hints of sugary vanilla that intoxicated his brain, the same one that made his heart pound.

“Tomioka!” You called with a smile, “I have a question!” His eyes widened as you barreled towards him, skidding to a halt just before hitting the man. “If you had five more minutes to live, what would you do?”

To say he was taken aback was an understatement. Not only were you living proof that he was not, in fact, hated by everyone, but you were actually quite nice to be around. Still, he couldn’t tell where your mind was. Were you planning to do something within the next five minutes that could compromise his life? He didn’t want to believe that was true, you were sunshine wrapped in a pretty package, but as a Hashira, he could never be too cautious. With every cinnamon-sugar thought that crossed his mind, he could only seem to focus on your alluring smell. “But I don’t have five more minutes. I’m in good health.”

“It is a hypothetical scenario, Giyuu! I have noticed how you are bad at answering these kinds of things!” Rengoku called from a ways away, perennial smile plastered to his face.

Shinobu was sure to tease him about that later, especially if both you and Mitsuri were giggling at the Fire Pillar’s comment. He wanted nothing more than to pull back into his comfortable shell, dreaming to be civil - perhaps even friends - with the rest of the Hashira. As you tried laughing off the intensity of his gaze, noting how electrifying his eyes truly were, he furrowed his brows.

“Only five minutes?”

“Only five.”

With utter nonchalance, he glanced off into the distance. “I would probably sit with you.”

You blinked several times; Giyuu presumed you’d been expecting a different answer. And though your smell of cinnamon lulled, your aura brightened. It was always lavender, he thought, now it’s gold.

“Tomioka…” For a moment, as your eyes softened, he longed for your touch, wishing to get just close enough to where you’d squish his cheeks and laugh at his surprise. “We do that already!” You finally retorted, scrunching up your nose with a smile.

“I know. It’s calming,” he admitted. “What would you do?”

Without hesitance, you grinned. “Pray that in our next life, we’re born into a peaceful world where no one has to suffer. I want everyone to be happy.” You were so genuine, so gentle. He felt wickedly selfish that a thought so selfless didn’t cross his mind. How ruined had he become? How bitterly distant and cold? What would his mother and father say; what about Sabito and his sister? “And,” your voice snapped him out of his self-depreciation, “I’d pray that I get to be with you in every lifetime.”

His eyes dilated. Young and naive, hopelessly in love with a cinnamon-scented sunshine girl — that’s all Giyuu Tomioka was. “I admire your wishes…” Averting his crystalline gaze from your own, a pit formed in his stomach. You pitied him. You must’ve. This must have been a sick joke, just a ploy to make everyone else laugh. You couldn’t seriously mean what you were saying. Right?

“If we weren’t demon slayers, I’d marry you in an instant!” Your voice splintered through his brain, bulldozing every wall, ripping down every layer, leaving only the barren bones of his love. Fully consumed and captivated by all of you, the moment you took his hands in your own, he could have sworn he saw flashes of a distant future.

Giyuu breathlessly squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment. You were so…direct! How could someone so modest and sweet be so open with their feelings? “The feeling’s mutual,” he whispered.

You cocked your head and blinked up at him. “I’m sorry, Tomi’! I didn’t quite hear you!”

Obanai and Mitsuri were in love, Sanemi swore to find Kanae in another life, Tengen had four wives; Giyuu was behind yet again. Sabito would have confessed to you by now, he would’ve known that he loved you instantly. Who wouldn’t love you? You pranced around the Ubuyashiki Estate after Hashira meetings with your heart on your sleeve and smile on your face; you were warm rain on a cool summer night, a sky full of stars for Tomioka’s lonesome eyes to gaze upon. He huffed - he won’t be late for the love of his life, not this time.

“He is so quiet! I always have to ask him to speak up too, do not fret my dear—!” Rengoku shouted again, Mitsuri quickly covering his mouth with her hands as she observed the two of you.

A smile painted his face a pretty shade of blue, the same blue of his eyes, the eyes you fell so ardently in love with. “I promise to come home from every mission for you.” Though he wasn’t as straightforward as you, you knew that was his special way of saying that he felt the same. And as he brought your hands to his heart, he took a shaky breath in. “And I know it might not be unscathed, I can’t promise that,” he began, “but I—”

Your body pressed flush against him in a hug, his words falling flat. “I’ll marry you one day, Tomioka. I mean it. Even if it has to be in our last five minutes.”

His heart was wholly yours, a pang in his chest overwhelming his senses as you pulled away. “Wait, don’t leave. Did you plan on courting me just to leave? Or…I’m very...confused. Are we courted now? I should be the one to court you— Do you want me to court you?”

He spoke so cluelessly that you couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, Tomioka!” Pinching his cheek affectionately, you continued, “Come eat dinner with us, Kyojurou made your favorite.”

You were gorgeous and a fighter, you were joyful - even if Giyuu knew the stronger the smell of cinnamon was, the more exhausted you’d become, you were you. And Giyuu loved you! In his pouty and gloomy, yet tender, quiet-loving kind of way, he vowed to always choose you. Letting his hand fall into yours, he gave a curt nod and followed behind you anxiously.

Mitsuri squealed as he placed his hand in yours, jumping ecstatically as the two of you made your way over together. “Oh yes! Yes, she did it! I knew you could do it! I knew she could do it!”

“I’ll kill you if you hurt her,” Obanai hissed curtly, despite the flushed pink spreading across his cheeks. Giyuu’s brows quirked at the confliction of his actions and words; was Iguro being nice? The Water Pillar knew the dislike the Serpent Pillar held for him, but he always was well aware the fondness the latter held for you.

“Iguro,” you chastised, hand resting on your hip, “don’t be like that.”

“I think it is actually very spectacular that Giyuu and you have decided to pair! Hopefully she will help you speak louder, Tomioka!” Rengoku boomed, laughing as he clapped the both of your shoulders. “Let us eat now, I am absolutely starved!”

The strong, spicy scent of cinnamon suddenly hit Tomioka once more as your head rested affectionately on his arm. He froze up as you did so, the content smile on your face making his heat up. The laugh that trickled from your lips seemed to make his chest swell with an admiration, one that was gentle, one that was shy and lovely. “So, we’ll eat first,” he mumbled, “and get married later.”

He nodded in agreement with his words, the corner of his lips quirking upwards. You bit your laughter back as you watched Giyuu talk to himself, squeezing his hand lovingly as you pulled away, rushing ahead of him to practically tackle Rengoku to the ground.

And even with the storm in the back of your throat and gleeful laughter that escaped your lips, Giyuu Tomioka was glad he had this lifetime with you.

thank you so much for reading loves! i really hope you enjoyed my little Giyuu ramble that totally was not self-indulgent

© 2022 littlecinnamonroll | do not copy, rewrite and repost, or translate my work - reblogs are greatly appreciated

#giyuu my love #tomioka giyuu #giyuu x y/n #kny giyuu #kny x reader #kny imagines #anime #drabbles #demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer fanart #hashira #giyuu imagines #giyuu fluff #mitsuri kanjori #rengoku kyojuro #obanai iguro #kny ubuyashiki

[elvensorceress]

wip Wednesday

my beloveds @rogerzsteven @swiftiediaz @spotsandsocks @monsterrae1 @shortsighted-owl @ajunerose @eddiediazisascorpio @kananjarus @prettyboybuckley​ 💕💕 all tagged me! 

tagging @ashavahishta​ @messyhairdiaz​ @ajunerose​ @dickley-buddie​ @the-likesofus​ @lostinabuddiehaze​ @bekkachaos @spaceprincessem @fatedbuck @swiftiebuckleys 😘💕

Here’s more of my holiday Hallmark Christmas fic (due out mid January - because we’re including New Year’s? Also it’s already over 50K 😭 idek) so have a nice long chunk because I like this scene 🫧

Eddie cups Buck’s cheek and watches the way Buck leans into the touch. “I’m going to make tea, let you get comfortable, and then I’ll come back. Do you want some, too?”

Buck smiles and nods. “Yeah. You’re going to get me hooked on hot tea every night before bed. I can already feel it starting.”

It’s only fair. Eddie already feels hooked on him. He lets Buck have privacy to undress and goes to fill up and start his kettle heating. When he returns with two steaming mugs, Buck is immersed chin-deep in the hot bath water. It smells faintly of lavender but also has thick, foamy bubbles floating on the surface of the cloudy water, and Buck tells him as he takes his mug, “I may have made my own mix. If you don’t have bubbles with a bath, are you even living?”

Eddie smiles and pulls out a stool that’s tucked under the cabinet so he can sit beside the tub. It’s been a long, long time since he’s used it — since Chris was little enough that he wanted to take baths and “go swimming” in the tub with bubbles and colored foam. Eddie would sit with him and play with rubber ducks and pirate ships and whatever else made him giggle. 

This, however, is entirely different. 

It’s hard not to think about how Buck is naked and not even a foot away from him. It’s even harder not to wonder about shedding everything and joining him. Or kissing him. His lips are so pink and must be raw and chapped from the cold like Eddie’s are. But they don’t look like it. Everything about Buck looks soft and sweet. 

There are little puffs of bubbles decorating the hair on his arms. Streams of steamy bathwater cling to his chest. His hair is wet and sticking up like he dunked himself and fluffed it around. It has clusters of bubbles, too. His cheeks are flushed and he holds the mug Eddie brought him in both hands. When he sips and tastes the tea Eddie chose for him, he closes his eyes first, but then gives Eddie a curious look. “This tastes like berries. Maybe blueberries? Is this a berry tea? I’ve never had berry tea. I love berries.”

Yeah, he definitely enjoys sleepy, adorable Buck.

 “I believe you mentioned that.” He gives him a smile in return and sips his own tea. The hot liquid floods his chest and usually Eddie needs that. Usually, he’s aching and cold without it. It’s still soothing, but he doesn’t quite ache so much tonight. His son is finally home and his Buck is here with him, and all Eddie has to worry about right now is how heavily his heart is beating. “It’s blueberry, lavender, wild berry. A mix of those. I thought you might like it.”

Buck drinks a little more and then sinks back into the steamy water and the bath cushion behind him. “It’s perfect. All of this. I don’t ever want to move. It feels so good. My leg was really hurting. Something about the angle of those plane seats is completely wrong for my stupid legs.”

Eddie starts to reach out for him. He could rub his leg or even hold his hand. Anything to offer him comfort. To be more connected. “You didn’t have to come with me.”  

“I wasn’t going to let you go alone. Plus, my whole job is supposed to be taking care of Chris. So. I’m very dedicated I’ll have you know. My kids are always the number one priority. I had to be there for him.”

Eddie did know. It was why he got attached to the idea of hiring Buck for Chris so quickly. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“And also for you,” Buck adds. “Someone needs to look out for you. Not in a bodyguard Athena way. In an everything way. You take care of everyone else and not yourself, and I worry. I want to take care of you, too. Since you keep looking out for me. No one looks out for me. Wow, I didn’t mean to take that to a pity party sort of way. I just mean. I’ve always been alone. By myself. Lone wolf. You know? Even though that whole term is bogus. Wolves are pack animals. They have families and communities. Maybe that’s where the idiom came from? Because wolves and people aren’t supposed to be all alone? Anyway, it was a long trip and I know planes have to be difficult for you. I had to be with you.”

Eddie chuckles a little and rests his elbow on the side of the tub and his head on his hand. “I have noticed that about you.” He’s also noticed the rambling way he talks when he gets tired. It’s different from the excited-about-everything rants he goes on or all the trivia he can spout when he wants to even when his random facts are mixed into everything. 

“I’m starting to think you’re right. It’s nice having a partner to do things with.” Buck drinks more of his tea and then sets it on the ledge behind him and shifts to his side so he’s stretched out, facing Eddie. “When did you get started on the tea thing? Or have you always liked it? What’s your favorite tea? Do you have one? Do you have it cold in the summer?”

No wonder Buck and Chris get along so well. Chris does this sometimes, too. Legions of semi-related questions but very attentive listening. Eddie sits up so he can brush slipping bubbles off Buck’s forehead. He smoothes a thumb over Buck’s eyebrow that’s gone wild and is sticking up much like his hair. And wonders if anyone’s ever kissed his pretty birthmark. 

“Yes, I drink it cold sometimes. I don’t know that I have a favorite? It depends on what I’m feeling like. But chamomile was one of the first ones I tried, and I love peppermint especially mixed with green tea. Chris gave me a chocolate chai for father’s day one year and a black tea with chilies and cinnamon that has a coffee sort of flavor to it, and I loved both of those. My sister, Adriana, gave me one a long time ago. A lavender rooibos that tasted like floral caramel. In a good way. If I had to pick just one as my favorite, it’d probably be that one.”

Buck catches his hand when Eddie starts to pull away. He weaves their fingers together and holds them under the surface of the hot water. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried anything but regular iced tea. And now this one you gave me.” He rests his head on the side of the tub, looking flushed and soggy and still adorable with the frosting of bubbles all over his exposed skin. “When did you start liking tea? What made you like it?” 

And here he thought Buck might have forgotten he’d asked that. He could make something up. Or talk about something else. But then it stays sad and secret, lost with everything else of his family. Eddie takes a deep breath. “My mother loved tea,” he swallows the lump that rises in his chest. He wants to talk about her. He wants to remember her. He wants to never forget how much he loved her. But there are tears that immediately flood his eyes. No matter what he does, it always happens. 

But Buck squeezes his hand and brings it up out of the water until he can kiss Eddie’s knuckles. 

When he lets go, Eddie cups the side of Buck’s face. His several days worth of stubble is tingly against Eddie’s palm, and Eddie wants to be closer. He wants to crack open and let him in. He doesn’t want to be alone and haunted anymore. “It started when I was discharged and came home from Afghanistan. There’d been a helicopter crash. A bad one. Everyone else… None of them made it. I was sure I wasn’t going to either. I was all sorts of fucked up. Mentally. Physically. I had three bad gunshot wounds and the doctors worried I had some kind of spinal trauma. I had cervical, vertebral fractures. And it meant I had to spend several weeks in bed. Doing nothing but lying there, literally losing my mind. And then there were a lot of months of recovery.” 

Buck doesn’t say anything but he nods and listens intently, still holding on to Eddie’s hand even when it slips from his face. 

“My mom would come see me. She’d visit with me and try to keep me from feeling too… well, I’m sure you can imagine how I felt. But every night, she’d make us tea and she’d sit beside me and it was something we always did together. Even after I was better. It started with the chamomile, to try and help me sleep, and it went on from there. She got me hooked. And then,” Eddie clears his throat and wipes at his face. It’s fine. He’s fine. It just hurts. It always does. “When it happened. When I lost her. I just… I wanted to keep her with me. It makes me think of her. So. That’s why. Tea every night.”

Buck wipes at his face, too, and then motions for Eddie to come closer until their foreheads are touching. His hand gently curves around the back of Eddie’s neck and keeps them tethered together. “I know I can’t replace what you lost. Nothing can make up for that. But you do have me now. Just like I have you. I’m here, I’ll be here as long as you want me to be.”

Eddie wants to believe that. God, does he want to believe that. He pulls away slightly, just enough so he can leave a kiss on Buck’s wet forehead. 

Buck makes a soft sighing noise like a happy, purring radiator. And Eddie can’t help wondering what he might sound like if Eddie kissed him on the mouth. 

Not if. When. What will he sound like when Eddie kisses him for real?

#buddie wip #I love all of you sooooo #fic: once upon a december #buddie #911 #jenwyn wip

[spencecreates]

Some Roan family that I haven't shared yet

Part 1 | Part 2

Words: 2348

It started exactly ten years after their parents’ deaths, a week before Yarrow’s 18th birthday. The fear and panic that overtook Oliver when he saw them in his dreams for the first time since they left woke him immediately and drove his first bout of insomnia. He stayed awake all night before his own body betrayed him and forced him to sleep, slumped over his desk as he tried to work.. 

“There you are,” came Edos’s warm pleasant voice. It made Oliver’s skin crawl. “Oh Ollie, I’ve missed you.” 

“What…are you doing here?” he asked, his breath coming in short gasps. “Why can’t you leave me alone?” 

Edos walked over, a smile stretched across their face like a scar. This form was handsome, long hair pulled back and a healthy pink to their skin. But their eyes were still a lavender color that made him sick and their smile was unnatural in a way he could never put into words. Perhaps it was because in their real form, they didn't have any lips. 

“Don’t be that way. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again. You can’t always avoid me again,” they said warmly. “And finally I am able to.” 

“I want nothing to do with you. How did you get past--”

“Those wards were mine, dear. I created those symbols to gift to you, didn’t I?” They smiled. “But I decided to give you time to grow up. You were so distraught when you left.” 

Oliver’s hands shook. His entire body had locked up, he couldn’t move. He had no idea if that was the fear or that was Edos’s doing. He couldn’t wake himself. Please wake up.

“You must know I wouldn’t give up so easily.”

“You’ve been going to Yarrow,” he said when finally he could breathe again. 

“Of course. Your parents promised me their son. And I intend to collect.” 

Oliver blinked tears from his eyes. “Leave him alone. Please…”

“Are you going to come back to me?” Edos lifted a brow at him and when Oliver looked away, they simply let out a hum. “I thought so. I thought you’d be happy, this means that no longer will you have to deal with me.”

“Please.” he choked out again and Edos sighed.

“Yarrow is choosing this,” they said. “He is here of his own choice. And I am here to tell you to…let it go. You need not follow along, but don’t stand in his way anymore.”

“What?” Oliver came back to himself all at once, feeling lightheaded and the edges of his vision blur. “No no. I’m not letting you take him.”

“He wants to help people. He wants to help me help people.” 

“You don’t help people!” Tears finally started their trek down his face. He blinked to himself, rubbing it from his eyes. Edos again just sighed. 

“I do. I’m so sorry that you ever had to doubt that. But Yarrow has--”

Oliver forced himself awake. Tears still fell and smeared the ink of his notes. He whimpered, putting his face into his hands as he sobbed into them. He choked on the sounds, feeling himself tremble with continued fear and his head start to throb. 

They couldn’t be here. He didn’t know how to deal with them anymore. And each day, Yarrow pushed more into their arms. He felt alone in this. He was alone. 

He stood and stumbled to the shower. He turned it on and stepped in fully clothed to shock himself awake. He stood shivering under the freezing water, head down as he stared at the tiles as he reminded himself he was alive and whole and safe. Whatever they told him in those dreams didn’t mean anything, that wasn’t how it worked. 

He didn’t fully believe it.

That was his life until Yarrow’s birthday. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw them waiting for him. He forced himself to stay awake for as long as he could, drinking coffee and continuing to use the cold water of the shower to force it. Dark circles grew beneath his eyes and his frame grew slight and paler. 

At some point he no longer had to close his eyes to see them. 

Whenever he was forced to finally sleep, it was the same. A plea to leave him and Yarrow alone that fell on deaf ears and them telling him to let Yarrow go and let him pursue the life Edos could give to him. 

When he was awake, it was nearly the same. Yarrow’s impassioned talk about Edos and asking Oliver to join him in following them. They could make the world better and finally finally things could be perfect again. They could fix it for everyone. Didn’t he want that? Wasn’t the world full of such grief horrifying to him? 

Oliver was always horrified to hear him talk about them. It had changed his personality almost too much. Yarrow had been depressed for so many years before Edos came to him, now his smile almost split his face in two and his laugh and voice were high and loud and agonizing.

The fights between them were always the worst he was. 

When Yarrow’s birthday came and went, the day was an argument of Oliver’s desperate pleading for him to rethink following Edos and Yarrow’s naive certainty into it. It was hopeless. But Oliver couldn’t stop trying. 

The two weeks following, he became numb to Edos’s presence within their lives, but he still avoided sleep and when finally the dreams came he felt nothing but anger and pain. They continued to take his family and his safety. They took over his home all the same. 

Could he really do nothing? The hopelessness grew, the pain of his heart made him wish he could carve it out. He couldn’t let them take his brother from him. There must have been something. 

He stumbled into the house, swaying as the weight of the groceries in his hand threw off his balance. He could feel his body begging for sleep that he refused to give into, he could outlast this. He had to…

He collapsed.

He was back at the top of the mountain. He looked out over the red valley he used to call home, his shoulders sagging. He turned to look at Edos, standing among ruins. 

“Edos..” he said, his voice drowning in defeat.

“You look horrible, Ollie. Is this all worth avoiding me?” they asked. He felt nothing, too tired to access the emotions they usually conjured. 

“I can’t do this anymore. Why won’t you leave me alone?”

“I want Yarrow. And you continue to stand against it.” They sighed as they walked over. “Is it really so awful to let him follow his heart?”

He flinched as their hand touched his cheek. “Yes. It is. You…you will simply chew him up and spit him out.”

“I’m wounded.” They put a hand to where Oliver supposed their heart would have been had they had one. They sighed to themself. “I want nothing more than to help him achieve his dreams. Make the world a far better place.”

“You’ll decimate the world.”

“Whatever it takes to make it better.”

A throbbing started behind Oliver’s left eye. It was useless to argue with them. 

“Please, leave him alone. I can’t do this anymore. But you can’t have him.”

Edos laughed and it still chilled Oliver. He sighed softly, closing his eyes. 

“He’s grown, Oliver. You can’t tell him what to do. You never even did a very good job though, did you? He was so…destroyed when I came to him. And you never helped him.”

He felt a lump in his throat. “You know why he was. You did that. Does he know that you killed our parents?”

“I would never. They were so dear to me,” Edos said warmly. “Please, Oliver. Is that how low you think of me? I entrusted them with magic, with my own special blend of it. All I wanted was to help them.”

“We know what you did. You--”

“Do you? Oliver, dear, you were a child. If it was truly so awful, I could have ended things amicably. You never had to run away because of nasty rumors.”

He felt he was going insane. How could they continue doing this? Their silvertongue still wormed its way into him, some part of him so desperately believed them. His savior in his youth. 

“Stop…stop it. I can’t do this anymore,” he repeated again. “I can’t-- Leave Yarrow alone. Go to anyone else, I can’t--”

“Oliver,” they said and caught his chin in their hand as they tilted it up. “You must believe I have only the best intentions. Let him follow this. I need nothing else from you.” 

Oliver yanked away from their hand, stumbling back. “No! No, absolutely not! I can’t…I can’t do that to him. I need to make him understand just what you are! I can’t abandon him to you!” 

“It’s too late for that, Oliver,” they said gently. “He already feels that. He has felt it for so long. You’ve only ever made him more and more reliant on me for the guidance he needs.”

“I never--”

“You have spent years wounding him. You blame him for it, don’t you? What happened?”

“No, I wouldn’t--” 

“He knows that, Ollie.” They moved, gently brushing a hand over his cheek. “Let him follow himself. Don’t you trust his judgment? Let him do this.”

Tears burned in Oliver’s eyes. “I couldn’t do that. I refuse. Leave us alone!” 

“You’re only ever going to hurt him, Ollie,” they said as he stepped back from them, back running into a tall pillar as they stood over him. “He told me all of it. You’ve only disparaged his dreams, made sure that he knew you would never love him unconditionally. Is that what family does?”

“And you would?” he hissed. 

“Of course I would. I do. It’s the same with you, Ollie, I still love you even as you turn your back to me.” He grimaced. “Can’t you trust me with him?”

“Go to Hell.”

“How unfortunate.” 

Roan forced himself back to the waking world again, looking up at Yarrow sitting beside him. 

“What…”

“Are you okay?” Yarrow asked worriedly, 

“I…I am,” he said, though the pain in his head made it hard to focus.

“You need more sleep. You’ve been walking around like the dead.” Yarrow laughed, the joy of it grating against it. 

“I’m going to make dinner.” Oliver pushed himself back to his feet. “How has your day been? Where were you?” 

“I was down the street at the park. Edos thought maybe I’d find someone there.”

Oliver slammed the groceries down on the counter, Yarrow jumping as he heard it. He blinked, looking over at him. Tears welled into Oliver’s eyes again. 

“Ollie…?”

“You…you need to stop talking to Edos. You need to leave them. You can not let them do this to you!” 

He turned to look at Yarrow, whose confusion was palpable. He shook his head. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so against them. They’ve helped me. They have given me this promise, they’re going to help everyone!” 

“They are lying to you! And you are too naive to even realize it!” He slammed his hand down onto the counter, the sound even startling him. He closed his eyes. 

“What do you know?” Yarrow asked, his expression dropping fully. “They have only ever been there for me. All you have done is lecture me about them. You can’t tell me what to do anymore, Oliver.”

“I’m not letting you do this. They are dangerous, Yarrow! Why can’t you just trust me!”

“Why would I? You’ve told me nothing. All you’ve said is not to do it.” He stepped closer, glaring down at his brother. “What are you going to do? You don’t get to dictate my life. All I want is to help people. And I’m going to.” 

His expression twisted. “You’re smarter than this.”

“Apparently not. I’m going to keep following them. I trust them with my entire heart, and I don’t care what you say. It doesn’t matter.”

Oliver stared up at him, feeling the entire weight of earth’s atmosphere and his heart being slowly crushed underneath it. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t handle losing Yarrow, but he couldn’t handle another minute of this. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Yarrow.”

Yarrow sighed to himself. “Ollie, maybe…maybe you should come with me. Edos could help you. Let me share this with you. It’s…it’ll be wonderful!”

Something in Roan broke. He looked at Yarrow, feeling something dig out the denial to reveal the certainty that it would always be this way. He’d lost his brother. 

“If you want to keep following them, leave.” He felt more calm than he expected to as he said it, though his heart pounded in his ears. “I can’t do this, I can’t listen to you talk to them like that.” 

“What?”

“I can’t do it! I don’t want to watch you fall into this anymore, Yarrow! Please…please just leave. Take them with you, get out of my house!” He looked up, seeing Edos standing behind Yarrow as tears welled in his eyes. “Leave me alone. I concede. Do…do whatever you want.”

“Ollie…” 

“Get out!”

He left the kitchen, walking down to his room and slamming the door shut. He sunk to the ground, leaning back against the door. He heard Yarrow’s hurried words, but no one else. Then his footsteps to his room before the front door slammed. 

Fatigue and anguish clung to his bones as he sat there, trying to will his body to move. He didn’t know what to do. Had he really done that? Did he lose? 

He crawled to his bed, pulling himself up to bury himself beneath the comforter. He cried himself to sleep.

He was on the mountain again. He looked at Edos, his expression as dead as he felt inside. 

“Thank you,” they said. 

And finally, he was alone, sinking into the darkness. 

#my writing #oc: roan #oc: yarrow #i haven't written anything for nano #but here have this thing #the garden of edos

[luvdsc]

i actually miss you so much here🧎🏻‍♀️

oh honey bee 🥺🤍 i miss you too 😭 thank you all soo much for all the wonderful messages everyone has sent in — there are so many of them, and i have read every single one and cried a little 🤧 i am so sorry that i don’t have the time to respond in detail to each one, but i am so so grateful and touched for all of them, and truly thank you for thinking of me 🌼 i hope you all have been doing well, and life has been treating you kindly 💛💛 it feels like coming home for the holidays after being away for so long 🥹

i finally logged back in today (after needing to reset the pw for this and for the email this blog is linked to oof) but i’m so out of the loop for kpop aside from shinee, bp, and taeyeon 🤧 i heard from alice that nct dream is touring !! 💘 i hope all of you were able to get tickets and i will live vicariously through you :’) and also hbd to renjun today !!!

a life update from me — i’ve been having the time of my life (minus some burnout from work but we won’t talk about that because it still pays the bills very well and then some), and i have long trips to japan with my friend and to australia to visit ti and steph coming up 💕 i have a fun work trip and a keshi concert with my friends including moon next month !! and i have two music festivals lined up for the summer already !!! dpr is coming to hitc nyc and i’m so sad that i’ll be out of the country when it happens but fingers crossed they come for the LA one ! and my friend just texted me a couple days ago about another music festival she randomly got tickets to so vegas here we gooo 🥳 and possibly a second vegas trip too that my other friend brought up today ??? also the usual weekend trips to LA, of course 🤩 omg and i saw jisoo irl up close at their concert and she is beautiful, and i can’t wait for her solo 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻 and i’m currently blonde 🤧 my hair is really going through it like i first dyed it all lavender, then silver, then blonde, then i chopped it mid length and dyed it pink, then pastel pink, now it’s blonde, and it’ll be rose gold in two weeks !!! also i made like $5k from my investments and stocks, and i’m so incredibly proud of myself even though i know it’s not much compared to others :’) and i bought a chanel bag to celebrate my career milestone when i was promoted last year and got a big raise and bonus !!!! 🥳 i found the one i wanted after checking shops over the span of five months in like 8 cities and 5 countries djjdjkskd OH and i still hang out with els and she is still very much in l*ve with taeyong and jaehyun 💞 also blind boxes, specifically sanrio ones, have taken a chokehold on me thanks to els, and i’m still playing genshin so gacha addiction go brrr

tldr ; i’m really happy and content with where i’m at, and i sincerely hope from the bottom of my heart that every single one of you is experiencing the same amount, if not, even more, of happiness in your lives, honey bees 🤍🐝✨ as always, i’m sending you all my love and well wishes, ily all so so much 🌷🌷

#asks #anonymous #flowers

[enchantedliving]

Model: Nala Botoma Diallo @nalabala4 Designer: Glimmerwood @glimmerwood MUA: @muanessa

Savannah Seeger, a.k.a. Simply Savannah Art, has long filled our social media feeds with dazzling, otherworldly visions of witches, goddesses, and fairies of every color, with giant shimmering wings and headdresses and swirling gowns, long tresses in shades of green and blue and lavender. We loved her frothy springtime enchantress in joyful hues of mint green and filmy pink—and thought she might be the perfect way to begin our “year of the witch,” along with her other visions shared on these pages. Below, we ask Seeger about her art.

Enchanted Living: Can you tell us a bit about yourself? Savannah Seeger: I’m a twenty-six-year-old full-time travel fantasy photographer and metalhead. I live in Wisconsin with my dog Ludo but travel as often as I can to magical destinations. I started this photo journey in 2017, trying to make a living from seeing the world and photographing mystical beings at the same time. I’ve been to twelve countries so far and plan to keep the number growing. If I’m not on shoots or in nature, I am painting, at a concert, staring at my sword collection, or crafting wardrobe for my next shoot.

EL: Can you talk about our cover image and the inspiration for this springtime witch? SS: Glimmerwood, a designer, sent me images of this beautiful set she created, and I was so taken aback by its originality and beauty. I wanted to do this piece as much justice as I could, and Nala was the perfect fit to bring it to life! When I saw the colors of the gown I knew it had to have some pastel pumpkins to go along with it. So I painted those up, wagoned the pink pumpkins into the woods, got Nala into wardrobe … and the springtime witch was born.

EL: Do you have any thoughts about witches generally? SS: My mom would always tell me stories of my great-great-great grandmother Lena who came from the Black Forest of Germany. She’d make herbal mixtures in a tree stump under the full moon. Lena would then take these mixtures and give them to my great-grandpa (her grandson) to help him heal from whatever ailment he had at the time. This story I was told made a big impact on my young mind and has carried over to my adult life and into my own spirituality. I know a lot of people say it, but it truly does run in my blood.

READ MORE AT enchantedlivingmagazine.com

#Savannah Seeger #Simply Savannah Art #enchanted living magazine #magic #enchanting #faerie #fairy #fantasy #whimsical #witch #witchy #article #writing #books #author #reading #indie #art #artist #illustration

[songofsaraneth]

I've been meaning to make a container garden update post for weeks now, but health/life kept getting in the way. So these photos are taken within the last week-ish but I've been getting it all set up over the last month! Including finally getting through the last of my rain barrel so I could scrub and rinse it out.

First major thing is I finally bit the bullet and bought the expensive porch loveseat of my dreams. I've been wanting a little couch or egg chair out there for 2.5 years but nothing ever appeared secondhand, and they're SO expensive. But finally there was a half off sale and so I went for this one from target. The best part about having that wicker back means I can use an umbrella or clip fabric to it as a shade cloth, and since it's already almost 90ºF here, that's a big motivator for spending time outside. Anyway here’s the breakdown of what I’ve got in now. Text and photos not in order bc it was too hard. Also, I tried to put a readmore here, but... I guess tumblrs not letting me have those today so sorry, long post it is! For edibles, I’ve got 4 containers of tomatoes (3 cherry/snacking and one slicing), 2 containers of strawberries (all that survived from last season!),  2 kinds of chives (normal and garlic), 2 kinds of basil (sweet and spicy globe), oregano with lemon thyme, and my hardy old rosemary. The basils got chewed up by a stray cat so I had to keep them inside for a week to recover. Then I sprayed the general area with orange oil to deter it and the orange oil ended up burning their fragile leaves, so thye’ve had a rough time of it. but! finally recovering 😬 And the big blue container I’m trying to repurpose for melons this spring, and will plant spaghetti squash later in the summer. Will I be able to get cantaloupes supported on the treils with netting? Not sure but I’m gonna try. Def most experimental inclusion this year. For perennial flowers from last year, almost all survived! I’ve got 4 kinds of sage (one of which seeded into an adjacent empty pot, so I left it and added some annual violas), guara, penstemon, 2 kinds of lavender, and a miniature rose. My red geranium kept blooming all through winter, so I got a pink and a purple one as well. The sages look a bit rough right now because I left for a week before I put in the other annuals and they’re the thirstiest of the bunch, so dropped a lot of blooms. Oh well.  For new additions and annuals, I went crazy lol. My most dangerous to shop with friend and I went to the local nursery and stores together so of course we both went overboard. I finally got one of the jasmine I’ve been eying for a year and a half, which just started blooming and already smells amazing. My 2 gailardia were tiny rosettes but ones forming a bloom and I’m so excited. Also marigolds, zinnias, petunias, lantanas, those fluffy spike ones I’m blanking on the name of, and a fuchsia! And probably some I forgot. The fuchsia’s been swapped to a shader spot already, but it’s getting ready to bloom and I’m excited. I also, while visiting Colorado two weeks ago, accompanied my friend to a nursery and ended up driving back with a clematis, one of my favorite flowers ever. It’s still vining up right now but fingers crossed for flowers.  SO. Lots of things in at the moment, so far been good for the last week and we’ll see what ends up surviving the summer heat or not once we get to the weeks of 100ºF+ days. I’ve got some other plans/tweaks, but this is the bulk of things. Otherwise, life has been a lot and I’m still goin through it...grad school, research, coping with the porch birds I love getting killed by the feral cats, and so on :( Getting up to water has been motivating at least for finally leaving bed in the morning despite all my eye pain troubles (easier to just keep them closed for an extra 3 hours than to start the sequence of drops and compresses it takes to get them open). But then I can do my morning doomscrolling at least surrounded by beautiful flowers and birdsong instead of huddled in my cave.

#ramblings #container garden #my stuff