#carnation queen is back everyone

[blackhairedjjun]

flowers of every color | 7. striped carnations

overall summary: when your father is assigned as the new head gardener to the royal family, you are also tasked with helping him maintain the castle's many gardens and extensive floral arrangements. by chance you find yourself crossing paths with the "ice-cold" crown prince, choi yeonjun... who turns out to be not as ice-cold as everyone says he is.

chapter summary: as you are confronted with stigma from the court after your punishment as well as the reality of yeonjun's engagement, you send him one last message -- and make a decision that you regret.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: angst angst angst, confrontations, exactly one (1) swear word

notes: i am posting this earlier than planned bc i got a sudden burst of inspiration over the last few days and i've been writing more! same as last chapter, there are OCs here to fill out the other kingdom so that i don't depict others' faves as the "villain" of the story

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by the time you are released from your punishment, the ongoing efforts to secure a marriage for the crown prince are no longer a secret. the whole castle seems to be abuzz with preparations for the first of several meetings with the prospective bride, princess ajin, and her mother, queen hwayoung. everywhere you go, you see the castle spruced up for them, from new velvet curtains hanging from the windows to the rarely-used porcelain dinnerware placed in the dining hall.

to aid the preparations, you and your father have been assigned to make floral arrangements that are both welcoming and hardy. today you are planting some marigolds by the front entrance; you know that the bright orange blooms will both cheer the guests up and ward off pests. the skies are thankfully clear as you work.

while you are crouched down making sure that each plant is positioned well enough without overcrowding, you overhear two servants chatting as they each carry a stack of cream-colored linen. you’ve been part of the castle long enough to recognize that this particular linen is reserved only for the most important guests.

“...if it will be a good match,” one of them says to the other.

“princess ajin is going to have a hell of a time with his majesty,” the other replies with a snicker. “let’s see if her charms are enough to thaw an ice-cold prince’s heart!”

“oh no, i heard the princess is pretty ice-cold herself. she had to be dragged to come here and won’t look anyone in the eye, like she thinks she’s better than everyone else.”

“they’re perfect for each other, then! you couldn’t arrange a better match.”

they both burst into laughter. you ball your gloved hands into fists and grit your teeth, fighting the urge to stand up and tell them off that yeonjun is not the cold-hearted prince they think he is. but before your anger rises too much, one of them spots you from the corner of his eye. he gives his companion a light shove with his elbow and they both move away from you, their voices becoming more hushed. still, the other servant can’t help but stare at you with wide eyes before turning away.

you swallow hard and turn back to your marigolds, sighing to yourself as you secure the soil around each plant. you’re in no position to defend yeonjun from the servants’ rumors, not when you yourself are also the target of gossip; what more for preventing something as important as his marriage?

you pause in the middle of your gardening to wonder why yeonjun’s arranged marriage bothered you so much in the first place. you always assumed that he would stop being friends with you when he got married, but why? surely the royal household would benefit in keeping you and your father as long as you didn’t cause trouble; capable staff are hard to replace, after all. aside from that, yeonjun liked you well enough to actively seek out your company, and he would probably do so as long as he could squeeze out free time. 

so why are you so afraid of this marriage? 

you try to delve deeper into the question, but you hit a wall of emotions that you dare not climb over. perhaps you could climb it if you want to, but whenever you try to, you are overcome with a strange dread. a feeling settles over you that whatever is on the other side of the wall will make things much more complicated than they already are.

instead of climbing the wall then, you step away from it and resume planting the marigolds.

一

you spend the next few days avoiding yeonjun and, to some extent, soobin and beomgyu. while you are busy planting more marigolds in the western gardens, a servant passes by and asks if you can deliver some fresh flowers to the tearoom, and you politely decline. “i can prepare them if you like, but i’m too busy with other things to personally deliver them,” you say. the servant simply nods and leaves, but you still catch her shaking her head and muttering to herself.

you decline a few more of these errand-invitations, and you find yourself avoiding parts of the castle that you know yeonjun frequents: the tea house, the horseback riding grounds, even the portion of the castle grounds overlooking the library where he has his lessons. you stop delivering flower vases to his room altogether. the preparations for the princess’ arrival even provide you with convenient excuses: i’m busy replanting some flowers at the southern gardens, or i’m making the floral decor for the dining hall. even if you do want to see them, the work you’ve been assigned is just too much.

still, you catch glimpses of yeonjun or soobin or beomgyu from time to time as they carry on with their duties. you deliver flowers to the castle and pass by a study room where yeonjun is practicing etiquette (for the princess, maybe — you don’t dwell on it), or you’re on your way back to the greenhouse and hear excited screaming, only to see that soobin and beomgyu are playing a badminton game that has gotten a little too heated.

on arrival day you’re at the southern gardens on watering duty. with the days getting warmer, you need to make sure that the soil doesn’t get too dry, and you’re more than willing to distract yourself with the job. you’re so immersed in your work that you don’t even see the small party strolling by; you only notice them because of the sound of a familiar voice.

“your majesty should not rely on me too much, because i won’t…”

you look up before you can stop yourself. yeonjun is walking some distance away, flanked by queen hwayoung on one side and princess ajin the other. you notice that the princess’ arm is linked with yeonjun’s, just as he used to do with you, and you feel a sting in your heart.

as soon as the princess walks close enough, your insides freeze. she looks absolutely beautiful, her dress studded with tiny rubies against wine-colored silk and her updo emphasizing her sharp features. but as beautiful as she looks, you can’t read her face at all. her lips show no trace of pleasure or displeasure, and her eyes seem to be empty of all feeling. the servants were right too; she faces straight ahead, not even bothering to look at either yeonjun or her mother during their conversation. you wonder if she really is as cold-hearted as they say.

the trio passes you by. neither princess ajin nor queen hwayoung seems to notice you, but yeonjun turns his head ever so slightly to face the princess 一 then he sees you.

to those who know him less, the change in his expression would be imperceptible. but you see the way his eyes soften, the way his lips part by a sliver, the way the stern tone of his voice mid-conversation loses a bit of its edge. his eyes meet yours for a moment, sending an unspoken message, until queen hwayoung turns toward him and his attention is taken elsewhere.

you feel… heavy. the old sudden warmth in your chest comes back, but this time it never settles comfortably in you, filling you with a sinking feeling instead. you turn away and look down at the flowers you’ve been watering and shake your head as if to shake off the unpleasant feelings.

you need to put a stop to things, you think. as much as you want to cling to him again like old times, it makes your heart ache too much — and you know it makes his heart ache too much as well.

the next day you prepare a flower vase for yeonjun’s room for the first time in who knows how long. your hands tremble the whole time as you fuss over the arrangement, and once you make the journey to his quarters, you feel the heaviness in you again. you head up the steps and down the hallways as quietly as possible, ducking into a room whenever you pass by a servant or a court official; it’s a miracle that no one sees you or the vase held snugly in your arms. your heartbeat quickens the closer you get to his room, and though part of it is from the adrenaline of trying to stay hidden, much of it is from something else entirely.

as you make your trip, all sorts of images flash in your mind. one moment you see princess ajin staring blankly ahead, arm firmly linked with yeonjun’s; the next you see yeonjun facing you inside the gazebo on ball night and gazing at you with fondness. you see the yellow roses you delivered to his bedroom when you declared that you’d be friends, then you see the ornate arrangements of zinnias you made for his prospective bride and her mother. with each step you the images feel sharper, and you feel yourself closing in on that dreaded wall of emotions again.

when you enter the prince’s quarters, each footstep feels heavier than the last; when you finally reach the ledge for his vase, you have to position yourself and screw your eyes shut before setting the vase down with trembling hands. once the vase is in position, you slip out the door and nearly run all the way down back the way you came. you don’t allow yourself to think, and instead pray to whatever gods are listening that you made the right choice.

you leave behind a vase of striped carnations: frilly white flowers with crimson staining the edges of each petal. a beautiful sight, but their stems hide a solemn message.

i can’t be around you anymore. i’m sorry and thank you for everything.

一

you fill the next few days with work, taking even the portions of work for your father or the other servants. you water and fertilize both the western and southern gardens, you replant and tend to dozens of plants in the greenhouse, you run to and from the castle to provide fresh flowers and herbs 一 as long as the assigned area is in the opposite side of the castle as yeonjun’s bedroom, at least. the work takes your mind off the thoughts that were plaguing you, and if you focus on them enough you could tune the worries out. it’s easy for you to ignore the stares of the court officials or the whispers of the servants when you are too busy pulling weeds out of the bed of daisies or trimming off rose cuttings in the greenhouse for planting.

yet no matter how much you trick yourself into believing that you can work your worries away, they eventually catch up to you one day as you head to the kitchen to deliver a fresh batch of herbs. as you round the corner, you spot a familiar figure walking towards you.

“y/n!” you hear yeonjun call out.

 you pretend not to notice him and try to walk past, but he steps in front of you.

“y/n, please!” yeonjun moves closer and looks at you with desperation in his eyes. “can we talk for once? you’ve been avoiding me for a week. what’s going on with you?”

“i’m busy,” you say, and you try not to look him in the eye. “i have to bring these to the kitchen.”

“don’t do this to me, please. you can spare a few minutes to talk.”

“no, i really can’t.” you try to step past him but he only moves in front of you again.

“you can at least explain what you meant by your message. what do you mean, you can’t be around me anymore? is something wrong? none of the staff have told me anything. i’ll do anything in my power to make things work for you. i can talk to the chamberlain, the servants, anything一”

you swallow and stare at the bag of herbs in your hands. “there’s nothing to explain,” you lie. “just... don’t be around me, okay? it’s not good for either of us, yeonjun. it’ll get us into more trouble. i’m sorry.”

“‘not good for either of us’?! don’t tell me you really believe that!” he’s half-shouting now, but there seems to be more fear than anger in his voice. “i don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn! why won’t you let me help you? there has to be a way to make things work!”

“there really isn’t, okay?! it wasn’t meant to end up like this in the first place! that’s what got us in trouble!”

 “end up like what? end up as friends? but we一” you try to ignore the crack in his voice一 “we said we’d be friends. can’t we act like friends just this one time then, at least? or do you seriously believe that it’s not good for either of us?”

“i said what i said, okay?! maybe we shouldn’t be friends!”

you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth. now they hang in the air as silence fills the space between you and yeonjun.

he stares at you and opens his mouth to speak, but only lets out a pained whimper. you see his eyes start to water and you look away.

“that’s how you really feel, huh?” he barely manages to string the words together. “fine, then. if that’s what you think is good for us, then maybe we shouldn’t.”

he turns on his heel and leaves.

“yeonjun, wait一” you run after him, but as soon as you turn a corner he seems to have diseappeared.

you curse yourself and bite your lip to keep yourself from screaming in the middle of the hallway. you stare at the bag of herbs you’re still holding and feel the urge to throw them onto the ground, but instead you let out a long exhale and focus your gaze on a still life of fruits hanging on the wall. your attention falls on one of the painted oranges, and whenever your frustration starts to build up again, you stare at the orange as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

it’s a miracle that you manage to calm down long enough to deliver the herbs to the kitchen. when one of the chefs asks you what’s wrong, you ignore her and head straight back to your quarters.

in your room you lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, realizing just how badly you fucked up. in your attempt to protect yourself from punishment and yeonjun from abandoning his duties, and especially in your attempt to get away from the wall of emotions that you can’t confront, you ended up breaking the one thing you cherished most in the whole castle: his friendship.

you curl the blankets around yourself and try to sleep, hoping that you’ve simply ended up in a bad dream.

end notes: hehe i love angst :) also princess ajin was originally not part of this chapter in the original outline, but after seeing the feedback from ch6 + thinking about the setup for her from there, i decided that i should probably introduce her here

taglist (open!) @seosalad @lilplilplilp @yeonboy @pyuae @hyuneyeon @strawbrinkofdeath @yushiu @mazeinthemoon @banggyu0308 @shytubatu @kyaneosprincess

#txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x you #choi yeonjun x reader #kpop x reader #txt imagines #kpop imagines #yeonjun imagines #txt angst #txt fluff #yeonjun angst #yeonjun fluff #tomorrow x together imagines #txt fic #bhj originals #fic:flowers of every color

[mysterycharacterflowers]

Tiebreaker round; A bouquet of sunflowers, dandelions, ferns, foxglove, hollyhock, lotus, balsamine, green carnation, fennel, black eyed susan and queen of night Vs A bouquet of star magnolia, lavender, dark crimson rose, white carnations, sweet pea and forget me nots

First, let's talk about the bouquet of sunflowers, dandelions, ferns, foxglove, hollyhock, lotus, balsamine, green carnation, fennel, black eyed susan and queen of night

Why and meaning: Sunflowers- very literal in their relation to the sun. Dandelions- overcoming hardship Ferns- magic or enchantment Foxglove- insecurity Hollyhock- ambition Lotus- rebirth Balsamine- impatience Green Carnation- he is homosexual Fennel- strength Black eyed Susan- justice Queen of the Night- enjoy small moments because they do not last Description: Hes sooooo silly your honor. Hes my skrunkly blorbo oongly. THE babygirl. Hes 35 years old, hes the chosen one, he has a sickass sword. He keeps adopting stray children like pokemon cards, hes broke as a goddamn joke. He managed to score a major fucking hottie by being peculiar and having sopping wet cat energy. He’s gay, he's gray-ace, he has a layered, complex queer platonic relationship with his best friend and every single woman he knows could throttle him. He's my special little boy please

Check his post here

Now, let's talk about the bouquet of star magnolia, lavender, dark crimson rose, white carnations, sweet pea and forget me nots

Meaning and why this flower was chosen: – Lavender for distrust. Dark crimson rose for mourning. White carnations and sweet pea for when truth has gone. Forget me nots for the girl who refuses to be erased. – Star magnolia: it means perseverance, purity, it was chosen because it resembles the flower she wears in her hair Description: — She’s a paradox. She can’t exist yet her existence is what drives the story. She’s the mastermind. She never had a choice. She’s never told a lie. You can’t trust her as far as you can throw her. She saw the end of the universe at twelve years old. She caused the apocalypse. She saved the world. She spends the rest of her life atoning for the sin of keeping herself alive. Yet, her life is what makes the universe keep spinning. — Kidnapped as a child by a rich company studying psychic powers and forced to play a deadly game unlocked her latent psychic abilities... that allowed her to see into, and manipulate, the future and other timelines. Trapped and afraid and full of newfound power, she used this ability to manipulate her best friend into saving her life, years in the future. In the future, then, it was up to her to set the gears in motion to create the scenario that saved her life in the past. The power, once she harnessed it, never left her. She could see the threads of all the timelines and the outcomes of decisions... and she saw an apocalypse coming. She had to choose between staying with her friend, who she had come to love, and abandoning him to dedicate herself to preventing the apocalypse she saw (that he could not be part of). And she did. The apocalypse came so soon, and in its aftermath, she spent decades of her life using her timeline-reaching abilities to find and formulate a plan that would have stopped the apocalypse, and taught it to the person who could time-travel to implement it. She could not, herself, travel back to the past; she could only see the threads of decisions, what would be and could be, and use that information to construct the perfect timeline. The version of her that survived the apocalypse knew that she would never get to live in the saved timeline; she wrote off herself, and everyone else in this timeline, for a chance to set things right for another version of her and another version of everyone. She is dedicated to the point of being frightening, and consequentialist to the point of being cold. But it's in the name of saving the world - and never being at the mercy of another selfish cruel rich powerful people who thinks that their money means they can do whatever they want, ever again.

Check her post here

#tiebreaker round 4 #mysterious character: a bouquet of sunflowers - dandelions - ferns - foxglove - hollyhock - lotus - balsamine - green carnation - fennel + #mysterious character: a bouquet of star magnolia - lavender - dark crimson rose - white carnations - sweet pea - forget me nots

[lemonhemlock]

Fun little ask, what are your fav perfumes or colognes?

I'm one of those people who need to match their fragrance to their outfit and vibe. 🙈 So it's not enough for me to have one fragrance or even a family of fragrances, I need to have one for every occasion. 🤦‍♂️

That being said, one of my go-tos has to be Diorissimo by Dior (obvs, lol), since it contains every white flower imaginable on the planet and I simply adore the scent of white flowers - lilies of the valley, hyacinths, jasmine, lilac, I love it. I have many white-flower-based perfumes; they are well-tolerated and appropriate for many situations. Elie Saab - Le Parfum is similar to this.

But I wouldn't be me if I wasn't on some oddball shit! So I'm really drawn to vintage perfumes - that cloying, heady, powdery smell of opening an old lady's handbag, of vintage makeup and sweets. The smell of lipstick I find very attractive (I think it's given by the iris note), so, for example, I wear Dior - Homme, even though I wish it'd be stronger. (I'm also one of those oversprayers who wants to leave a scent trail when I walk. 😅) The classic Agent Provocateur is another example - a very heavy, slutty rose* with an intoxicating presence that makes you cough - very powdery, very reminiscent of a boudoir - the kind of scent Satine from Mouline Rouge might wear. Loulou by Cacharel is literally how old ladies smelt like when I was a little girl, so ofc I overspray that, too. My neighbour who lives on the ground floor says she can tell I left because she can smell it in the hallway. ☠ It's very hard to describe, something like plum with wood? and incense with a white floral background. It's very, very 90s. Just an amalgamation that's very hard to separate but very distinctive. Other stuff I have and enjoy from this category are Angel by Mugler, which is similarly hard to define because it seems to have every note in existence, with a powdery finish + Cabotine by Gres - very strong, very potent carnation, very green, which may not be to everyone's liking. Loulou & Cabotine are also what I'd describe as pretty unfriendly, unapologetically spiky perfumes; you either love them or you hate them.

I'm going to be basic now for a second, but my first foray into vintage scents was when I whiffed Chanel no 5 in Sephora and I instantly fell for that artificial, cold, standoffish aldehydic smell. I had a bottle of Shalimar back in the day and her sister, Casmir by Chopard, and 10/10 would purchase again. Jungle L'Elephant by Kenzo is also a strong vintage scent, with spicy cloves, dark citrus and amber that shares that heady quality I'm drawn to. For a long time I kept a big bottle of Opium by YSL, which remains the queen of spicy scents to me, it's like all possible condiments condensed into this hegemonic cloud of aroma. The people around you will always know you're wearing this. 😂 Sometime in the future, I would like to try some similar scents like Aromatics Elixir (Clinique), Cinnabar & Youth Dew (Estee Lauder) and Magie Noir by Lancome. Not a priority, but they're on my list. I used to have Fame by Lady Gaga and it smelt very incense-y, which was fine by me, since I love all church smells - myrrh and the like.

I'm very fond of nostalgia scents from my childhood. Weirdly enough, cough syrup. Which is exactly what Egoiste by Chanel reminds me of. :)) Which is why I put it on my list. There's also a recurring motif I keep encountering in my choices - something I associate with my grandmother's house, slightly Oriental, caramel, but somehow also minty. Like all old ladies, she used to keep all kinds of sweets in an ornate bowl - mint drops and other kinds of sucking candy or toffees. And, like all children, I greatly coveted that bowl. Perhaps the saffron note has something to do with this, but it's something I recognise in perfumes like Shaghaf Oud by Swiss Arabian, the oil Tanasuk (Al Haramain) or Herod (Parfums de Marly). So those kinds of scents feel v comforting and familiar to me. Herod is so well-named, too, that's 100% what thee Herod would actually wear.

*I love rose in all its forms. The idea that someone could dislike rose is very peculiar to me. :)) I have a bright, sirupy rose in Madame Gres (though it doesn't list in the notes, weirdly enough, so must be the combination of pineapple and peony that I perceive as rose) and the sparkliest, girliest, pinkest rose in my Delina dupe. I couldn't get the rotting, sickening rose note out of my head when I first smelt Portait of a Lady, so I had to buy a replica (I'm categorically not dishing out 300 euros for a bottle of perfume, lol). I'm so curious about Rosenrot by Rammstein (💀) because it's supposed to smell like roses with blood, but I read it unfortunately doesn't lasts very long.

There are not many smells I tend to dislike - heavy oud is one of them, for example Cuir Intense by Guerlain smells like wet dog on me. I once smelled Hacivat by Nishane out of curiosity and it legit made me think of feces. I love chocolate and think it smells complex and appetizing, but I wouldn't really buy such a fragrance for myself.

A bit unusual since I do love gourmands. Anything that smells like candy or sugar or fruits. Recent purchases are Safeer by Lattafa, which smells literally like a sparkling, sugary lemon cut in half, so bright that approaching it makes your mouth water + Amber is Great by Zimaya, which legit reminds me of Skittles. :)) More conventional perfumes I wore were Lost Cherry and Bitter Peach by Tom Ford. My replicas at least did not have the longevity weaknesses of the original and were really mouth-watering.

I would say I'm fairly adventurous when it comes to perfume, since I enjoy a wide variety of notes. Green fragrances are also right up my alley. Strong notes of patchouli, vetiver, grass, leaves. My boyfriend is getting me Nerolia Vetiver Forte for Christmas and it's the greenest woody white floral, I can't wait to overspray and exasperate people. :)) Tobacco is a weird note for me because I seem to love it in perfume but absolutely detest it IRL. Tobacco Vanille (Tom Ford) and Aventus for Her (Creed) may be very hyped, but I still got people very frequently asking me what I'm wearing. They're hits with the public! Leather I also find complex scent, though I don't think I have anything with leather in it right now. I went through a phase this year where I used up half a bottle of Libre by YSL because I couldn't get enough of the lavender. Olympea by Paco Rabanne got the same treatment from me - just the cleanest, soapiest, most comforting, intriguingly salty perfume. Works so well with the Layali oil by Swiss Arabian.

For the future, I'd like to collect more generally unusual scents. Or anything that can be described as evil or witchy or dark (because I'm a 13 year-old edgelord 😂). For example, Toskovat make this perfume that is supposed to smell like gasoline and bubblegum and another that's supposed to smell like gunpowder, ozone and blood bandages. I also have my eye on La Couche du Diable by Serge Lutens - just.... everything about that concept. :)) I already have something that I think is similar, By the Fireplace by Maison Margiela - it smells of FLAMES and roasting chestnuts. I also have the famed Habanita by Mollinard and it's certainly very witchy, dark & mysterious, like someone is preparing bitters or a potion and they have a whole cauldron of plants macerating.

And, of course, I am dying to get my hands on a milk fragrance.

As for men's, I feel like a lot of them are so generic fresh-smelling, citrus, pine etc and, while I can't say they're not nice, they're very basic and too similar to each other. Sauvage by Dior is the perfect example of this. Men are way less adventurous when it comes to perfume, so the men's fragrances that end up making an impression on me are honestly something that would be considered unisex or, at the very least, different. Something like Amouage - Epic or Sunshine Man or Penhaligon - The Tragedy of Lord George (I'm curious about Halfeti, too). Boozy fragrances work well on men, too, like the very cheap (but surprisingly good) Bentley for Men. Tobacco and leather work well - Tom Ford have quite a few of these: Ombre Leather, Tuscan Leather, Tobacco Vanille, Tobacco Oud etc alongside stuff like Black Orchid, which is rarer to see on a man, because they have no sense of style. I'm also curious about quite a few Parfums de Marly: Carlisle, Godolphin, Pegasus, Sedley. My beloved Herod is labeled as a man's fragrance, but that hasn't stopped me! My bf has quite a few distinctive & memorable creations from Mancera: Red Tobacco, Oud Violet and Deep Forest.

Deep Forest I probably like the most but it's also the most difficult for me to wear. I'm not convinced I can pull it off on my skin, but I will keep investigating. 😅 It's the darker coin flip of my Eden by Cacharel. Both are cloying, intense and unusual, both carry the feeling of being enclosed in deep vegetation. I like to think of Eden like a trip through the jungle on the hottest day of the year, in your best beige archaeologist outfit. The smell of burning rubber from your ATV fills your nostrils, beads of sweat on your forehead, lush greenery and so much of it, white flowers bloom around you, sickly sweet, musty and ripe. You close your eyes. You're bright and weightless and floating off the ground. This is the best day of your life.

Whereas with Deep Forest, you're trekking on foot, through the warm, musky trails the woodland creatures left behind. The sun can only trickle arrows of light through the thick bed of trees. You reach a clearing. The flowers are blooming, but there is no sky. The foliage swallowed it whole. You lie down. The ground is yawning for you.

#it's giving mental illness #i buy a lot of dupes because your girl does NOT have an unlimited budget lmao #fortunately we have a v good dupe company here & i'm able to keep myself well-stocked #that & i research arabian perfumes for good deals #lemonposting #perfume

[imbiowaresbitch]

Suptober22 Day 31 - Costumes

Destiel, background pairings

Halloween party in the bunker, Marriage proposal, mild smut

Rated M

~~

Dean finished tying his shoes, swiping away a smudge on the leather carefully. He straightened the little bows of the laces, his head snapping up from his fidgeting when there was a knock on his door. He stood and straightened his slacks, making the crease fall neatly down the front of his legs. He did up one button on his jacket absently, and patted at his pocket, making sure nothing was missing.

Opening the door, he found Charlie in a fantastic gold flapper dress, the sequined frills swaying as she left into his arms with a squeal and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Handmaiden, you look amazing! It’s so not fair, leave some looks for the rest of us!” she teased, and Dean rolled his eyes, even as he grinned at her a little. 

“Didja bring it?” he asked, and she unhooked a bag from her wrist and held it up. 

“Would your Queen fail you?” she retorted, her nose in the air, and Dean bent and kissed her cheek.

“Never.”

He opened the bag and drew out the small flower box, and his fingers trembled as he opened it. Pulling out the red carnation boutonnière, he carefully pulled the pin loose, only to drop it, sending it bouncing across his bedroom floor.

“Shit!” he swore, and began to scramble after it, only for Charlie to push against his chest hard.

“You! Don’t move. Just hold onto the boutennière, I’ll get the pin.” She quickly located it and scooped it up, and imperiously held out her hand. “Gimme. Your hands are shaking too much; you’ll stab yourself and then where would we be?”

“It’s barely an inch and a half long,” Dean pointed out, but still, he handed over the flower and stood still while she carefully pinned it to the lapel of his ivory dinner jacket. She reached up and tweaked his crisp black bowtie, then stepped back to give him a sweeping glance. He shuffled his feet nervously. “So?”

“You’ll do,” she teased, and he snorted.

"Wish Garth and Bess could come, but with the kids…"

"And the full moon…" Charlie remarked with an arched eyebrow.

"Well, yeah, that too."

He headed for his bedroom door, and paused with his hand on the knob, taking a deep breath. Glancing back at Charlie, he threw her a wink.

“Here’s looking at you, kid.”

~~

Read the rest on AO3.

Many thanks to everyone who has liked and reblogged along the way, and particularly to @winchester-reload for organizing this herd of cats!

(BTW, Jackie, I wasn't joking, I have a reminder in my calendar for August to nag you until you ask for help.)

#destiel #castiel #dean winchester #suptober22 #redamber79writes

[echantedtoon]

Cagney Carnation x Rumor Honeybottoms

-Takes place a few years after the events of the game- It had been almost....scratch that.....It HAD been too long since he had seen her. He could understand the need to get away from the cold weather as bees and flowers didn't like it all that much...But, now that the cold weather was gone.... He had expected her to show up within the first two weeks. When she didn't, it concerned him but he dismissed it as she was Queen of thousands of bee employees and a respectable business woman. So he assumed that she was just busy with whatever work had thrown at her. It had almost been a month when he finally decided to go see what was taking so long. Of course he couldn't just go and travel to a whole 'nother isle. Especially over water. Good thing his friend owned a boat.....and a giant flower pot. It wasn't too hard to travel on land without legs. His roots acted sorta like octopus tentacles. Pulling him along and over concrete and steps and such. No one ever saw though, because of the four huge leaves covering them. "Mister Carnation. Hello." A young bee lady looked up at the taller flower. Her blonde locks and blue eyes made her seem younger than what she really was. He smiled down at her. On the rare occasions that he would make the long journey to visit the hive, he would often be greeted by the young secretary. She was no nonsense and completely professional, which he admired. "Hello, Beetrice. Is Rumor in?" "Yes. Her majesty hasn't been out for nearly five months now." At this, he looked at her confused. She hadn't been out of the hive for five month? That didn't sound like her. Sure she'd be les likely to go out during the cold, but considering she'd often go out for business deals and such made no sense. "....I see. Where is she now?" "In her office on the top floor. She wasn't feeling well this morning." "Thanks." She nodded before he left. He had to pass some bees to get to the stairs. All of which waved or said a quick hi. It was amazing how many bees served Rumor. Not only on this Isle, but all three. Despite the many bees, she wasn't related to a single one. Rumor had come from the main land with her mother who forced herself into the queen title.....Which would sometimes cause problems since many of the young males would gladly love to become her spouse and therefore King. It caused quite the commotion when everyone found out about their relationship. Which soon quieted down after her angry outburst at them. ".....Heh." It still surprised him at how well it worked out. He never met someone else who took their business of flowers so seriously. He appreciated how serious she was whenever they discussed anything important instead of just thinking he was overreacting like most of his friends. She was also someone he could let his guard down around......which wasn't an easy feat. They got along pretty well despite the species difference.

The trip up the stairs didn't take long, despite how tall the building was. The top floor was empty except for the occasional bee buzzing from one of the rooms. He stopped at one of the doors, smiled, and knocked. "........Who is it?," called a female voice. "Hi, Honey.~ Did ya miss me?~" A sudden noise came from the room. "Cagney!?" He grabbed the doorknob and began slowly opening it. "I hope ya don't mind me dropping by.~ I-" "DON'T COME IN!!" He stopped at the sudden shout. The door only a crack open. ".......Is everything ok in there?" On the other side of the door, the Queen bee was sweating bullets. "O-Of course," she shouted back trying to keep her voice steady. Of course he would show up today. Unannounced. When she had a huge weight on her shoulders....or should I say stomach. "You don't sound ok. What's wrong?" She immediately blurted the first thing that came to mind. "I-I'm ........not decent." Well......It was sort of the truth. She wasn't feeling decent. There was a pause. ".......Oh, really?~ Mind if I come in?~" "YES!! Yes, I do mind!!" "Honeybunch, calm down. It's not like I haven't seen you 'not decent' before." "Well.....I....feel different this time." "Feel different? What's going on?," he pressed. She felt her stomach drop. If there was one thing Cagney was, it was definitely territorial over HIS things. His property. His garden. His friends. And ESPECIALLY her. If you said or looked at her the wrong way, you could expect a visit from the giant carnation. And he was very good at finding problems with what he considered his. "I....You need to leave. Now!" "Leave? I just got here." She couldn't let him see her. At least, not right now. Not like this. "I said GO AWAY!!" She reached for the silent alarm. "That's it!" The door slammed open. "What's with the whole-!?" They both froze at the sight of each other. She was still frozen, hand outstretched for the silent alarm, when she dared to sneak a look at him. He stared wide eyed at her.....or more specifically her giant mid section. ".........." He slowly looked up to meet her eyes."...............Exactly how much honey have you been eating?" She didn't answer. Instead she sat back down at her desk with her face in her hands. It took him a moment to realize that she was crying. He immediately felt guilt rise up his stem. He walked over to her and rubbed one of her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. "H-Hey! C'mon. I didn't mean anything by it. You're still as beautiful as ever." She shook her head. "No. It's not that. I'm not fat." "Of course not. You're just........well rounded." "No. I mean my stomach isn't sticking out from too much food." "Wha-? You're making no sense!" "Do you remember our last visit? 'The birds and the bees' theme had a big role that night."

''Heh. More like one flower and one sensitive bee.~" "Be serious!!," she yelled whipping around to face him. "What?! It's not like I could cross pollinate with you!" "There's more than one way to reproduce." "So, what? You're acting like a moody.......mother...." He did a double take at her stomach. "Holy F--king stem-wades!!" A hand flew up to clutch his head. "You're pregnant, aren't you?!" "I SWEAR to you. I've NEVER cheated on you." "How the heck does that even-? I-I-I didn't even know that was possible." "You're.....not mad?," she asked incredibly surprised. "What?! Nonono! I'm just very.....very surprised...........Why didn't you tell me in the first place?" "Because......I was scared. I never had children before. It's hard enough running a honey hive empire. Now, I'm expecting. I didn't know how you'd react." He bent down to wrap his viney arms around her trembling form. "Hey. Hey. Calm down. Stress is bad for the baby. It's ok." "I.......I'm glad you aren't mad, but...won't it be hard for you? Considering how long distance our relationship is." "I......could always move my garden to the meadow where your guys get all that pollen on this Isle. Although it might take a while to get all my plants over there." "I couldn't ask you to do that. You love your garden." "And I love you." She looked up at him. "I'm willing to do it." "............I suppose I could have some of my workers help. Only if you really want to do this." "I do." "Alright." They sat there for a little bit. "Cagney.....I made a decision." "What?" "The baby is not going to have any plant related names." "WHAT?!"

Author's Note: Submission and regular posting wouldn't accept it so I had to post it through the ask box.

#Cuphead #cagney carnation #Rumor Honeybottoms

[shinobirain24]

Iceberg - If Beacon Never Fell

Weiss was waiting in front of the courtyard for a date she was asked out for. While awaiting for the boy of her dreams. There is someone showing up in front of her, but not her date. She felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Miss Schnee." No, it wasn't the person she was expecting. But someone she knew from her past. It was a young man her age dressed in a suit and vest. Presenting her with a huge bouquet of roses, lilies and carnations.

"Henry Marigold, what are you doing here? In front of Beacon Academy? You're not a huntsman student, in fact, you don't have any training." Weiss scoffed.

"Just here to pick you up. I had been waiting to ask you to come to dinner with me." Henry smiled as he knelt down, expecting Weiss to say yes to the invitation.

But to his dismay, she frowned and sighed, "No way." Henry shook his head and went wide-eyed.

"B-but... " Henry collected his thoughts and became very insistent. "Hey, look. You are alone and won't be able to find someone like me. Face it, you and I are in the same circle. Forget these low-lifes of Beacon and come with me."

Henry then grabbed her hand, and Weiss quickly snatched it back from him. And steps backwards. "I SAID NO!"

"Snow Angel, are you okay? I thought I heard something." Neptune came just in time with a single white rose in his hand and a box of chocolates. Weiss is relieved that her real knight in shining armor arrived.

"And who is this guy?" Neptune asked. Turning to Henry, thinking he is bothering Weiss. And would do anything to protect her.

"He's been bothering me no matter how many times I told him no."

To show Henry their point, Neptune then narrowed his eyes and told him off. "Listen, man. If a lady says no, she means no. Besides, you don't know a thing about her." Neptune lightly pushes Henry away from Weiss and stands next to her.

Neptune then knelt down and held up a one rose and chocolates. It was just a single rose. But it was enough for Weiss to feel enamored towards Neptune even more. Weiss takes the rose from Neptune and smiles.

"Neptune... " Weiss said, dreamily. Henry stood shocked. He has 100 flowers on a bouquet. But Weiss chose the rose from Neptune.

"Shall we, my Queen?" Neptune stood up and offers Weiss his hand. Weiss happily takes it. "Of course." Then Weiss held onto his arms and walked with Neptune. It was a total loss for Henry.

"What? You and that loser? Why him?!"

Then Cardin came out in front of Henry and shouted out. "Hey everyone! This guy asked Weiss Schnee on a date and got totally rejected!" But it was only because Cardin hates Marigold for being a show off with money and his father for shading dealings as Jacques Schnee wasn't the only one who dealt with backlash. Everyone present in the courtyard heard it and laughed at him.

Henry stood frozen. Embarrassed and in the state of shock. Sun then puts an arm around Henry and said to him, "Man, girls must really hate you. You may have the looks and the money, but you have no soul, whatsoever."

Ruby joins Sun, as she also sees the kind of person Henry is. "I know, right?!" Ruby laughed.

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

The next day, after a wonderful date to the movies, Weiss and Neptune held hands together as they were no longer afraid to become a couple. Two teens from different classes fell in love. Neither could care less of what either of their families would say. But Neptune's father did approve by the time they coincidentally met him around the city.

Whispers can be heard. Some agreed on how good they were together. Others disagree because of different backgrounds or the outcome of the relationship. But Weiss and Neptune are too busy being happy with each other to care.

Weiss confidently kissed Neptune on the cheek. Neptune smiled back as he continued to walk with her.

-----

Nora, who sees the couple, fist pumps in joy. "YES! I knew those two would end up together!" She shouted in joy.

Author's note: Nora is a shipper and predicted Neptune and Weiss becoming a couple.

#rwby #rwby fanfic #rwby fanfiction #weiss schnee x neptune vasilias #neptune x weiss #weiss x neptune #weiss schnee #neptune vasilias #rwby ice planet #iceberg rwby #henry marigold

[more-than-a-princess]

Continued from here for @causalitylinked​ !

She supposed he had a point: not everyone was well-aware of flower meanings anymore, but they still had a hold on the aristocracy. At least where she came from, it was a part of every upper class child's education, divulged by private etiquette tutors that detailed how to properly court, and turn down, prospective partners and lovers alike. It was one of the differences of social class in Novoselic: everyone could drive a tank, but when a vase of yellow carnations arrived at a lavish townhome or country manor, often during a house party to truly drive the knife in further, everyone involved knew what it meant. Japan, it seemed, was not quite as strict with etiquette lessons as Novoselic was. For that, Sonia was grateful: combat and strategy training had been simple in comparison to all of the required social rules and traditions she was expected to master.

"I know we're trying to riddle out a difficult situation with as little grief as possible right now," She left half the macaron uneaten on her plate: it was quite rich, so she'd save some of it after another sip or two of her drink. The hotel exclusively used Novoselic chocolate in their restaurants and cafes, which had ensured Sonia to be able to request privacy, as well as the discretion of the staff. She didn't feel compelled to mention it to Ryuto, though: not unless he asked. "But I find it wonderful that two different cultures can share a language. Perhaps a dying one, but a language nonetheless. It makes this country feel a little less foreign to me, I suppose: not that I mind the vast differences between here and home. In fact, that's part of Japan's appeal."

As she pushed the long plate slightly closer to Ryuto, mostly so lemon bar crumbs wouldn't litter the white tablecloth, Sonia pursed her lips in thought of how to best deal with Ryuto's problem. "Well, the only other polite ways I've heard of to spurn lovers, particularly lovers a man no longer cares for, is to send them a piece of fine jewelry and have them be on their way. It was apparently more popular back in the early 20th Century, until the son of an esteemed Duke gave away a diamond and emerald bracelet to an actress he'd had an affair with. Not that they couldn't afford it, but the bracelet had been a gift from the King and Queen to the young man's now-deceased mother. And he was expected to give it as a token of respect and intent to marry one of the royal princesses, as their families had arranged, until the actress flaunted the jewelry onstage in front of the entire aristocracy one evening during a performance, humiliating everyone involved. That made the case to always buy parting jewelry and not use heirloom jewelry, though I think such a gesture might be just as confusing as the flowers for the girl you've mentioned."

The only other option she could think of was a restraining order if the girl didn't cease her advances, but Ryuto had pointed out the obvious: no one wanted to make a scene. Well, to be frank, no one wanted to make a scene but everyone wanted to witness them. It would fuel gossip among the 1% for months afterward. "I know you dislike loud places and crowds, but for the topic at hand especially, I didn't think a busy place would be suitable," She remarked as a server pushed a small cart towards the table. Sonia had requested a pot of tea alongside her champagne, and it had just finished brewing. Quietly, the server poured the steaming hot liquid through a silver tea strainer over the cup before placing it in front of her. The pot, milk, and sugar were then laid beside the cup and saucer before the server made themselves scarce once more. "And no matter what life demands of me," She continued, stirring in her preferred amounts of both condiments, "I'll always have time for you, Tsukishima-san. We could return here as frequently as we'd like. Though maybe under less dire circumstances. Surely you can't keep tolerating her advances, but beyond getting law enforcement involved, I'm at a loss. I'm close to requesting assistance with my stalker: if only he weren't a classmate."

#causalitylinked #Non-Despair AU: Hope's Peak Academy verse #(Sonia can go off on plenty of stories/tangents if prompted) #(prompted meaning: she wants to help someone out) #(Unfortunately her polite methods of rejection may not translate to his situation) #(Sonia vc: Shall we get restraining orders together then?)

[pinkfluffybunnyy]

sidelines chapter 3: purple lilac

previous chapter: yellow rose next chapter: yellow carnation

(Y/N) stepped into Armin’s private room, admiring his space. It was clean and tidy apart from the desk, papers and books strewn about the surface. He had multiple bookcases filled to the brim with books of different genres. He essentially had his own personal library. 

She smiled, her eyes lighting up with the sunlight that shone into the room through his window. “This is a lovely space.” she commented.

Armin chuckled shyly. “Thanks, it’s a bit simple but I like it that way.” 

She nodded in response, strolling over to his bookcase and admiring the spines, running her finger along one of the wooden shelves. 

Armin, once again, came up behind her, the heat from his chest pulsating onto her body and neck. She was very short, and from here she could tell that the top of her head barely came up to his chin. 

“Here, I think you’ll like this one.” he said quietly, reaching around her and pulling a book bound in brown leather from its home on the shelf. She felt her heartbeat quickening its pace at his close proximity, the way his body almost pressed against hers. She wanted to step back and close the space between them, have him wrap his arms around her in a tight embrace. Her cheeks tingled at the thought. 

He pulled back from her and examined the cover before holding it out to her. 

“It’s a romance, about a boy and a girl who meet in a flower shop and fall in love. The ending is very sad though, I will warn you.” he said, his facial features painting a picture of seriousness, not wanting to give her a story that could break her heart. 

“Oh, thank you.” (Y/N) replied quietly, taking the book from him. Their fingers grazed one another as she did. His skin was rough and calloused, from lots of training, she decided. “I’m a sucker for a good heartbreaker, to be honest. Sometimes I just want my heart crushed and destroyed.” she laughed, turning the book over and reading the blurb. 

He simply nodded in return. 

“Thank you for lending me this, Armin. I promise I’ll start reading it tonight.” she sighed with a smile. 

“Great, please let me know what you think of it?” 

“Of course.” she replied with a soft smile, clutching the book to her chest. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Yeah, uh, see you at dinner.” The words tumbled from his lips. He felt slightly flustered at the image of her before him, in her white button up and pink skirt, holding the book he gave her to her chest, a serene smile on her face while the golden hour sunlight from his window washed over her. She gave him a small wave and exited his room, walking down the hall and towards her own room. 

Armin let out a long sigh after she left, the breath he didn’t know he was holding onto escaping his lungs. He didn’t know a woman could make him feel this way, flustered and hot, especially not a woman he’d known for less than twenty four hours. 

He’d never subscribed to the idea of love at first sight, of the cheesy romance he’d read about in the books he’d cultivated. Yet, here she was, a woman he’d essentially just met, changing his mind. He flopped down onto his bed and rubbed his hands down his face. 

This was bad. 

Her first week in Paradise was very eventful, overwhelming even. She was given a nurse's tunic dress by Trost Hospital to wear while she was on shift so that she blended in with the other nurses. It was a plain white colour, it looked smart but she scrunched up her face when she received it. Not quite the best colour to be wearing if you’re sprayed with vomit or blood, but it would have to do.

When she got back to headquarters, she strolled into the meeting room where her new friends resided, giving them a little fashion show complete with silly little poses.

“Yeeesss queen, slay!” Onyankopon shouted and jeered as she posed, clicking his fingers in applause. Her smile grew wider.

Everyone admired her in the uniform, how it accentuated her figure, made her look very professional. Onyankopon stood up and circled her to take in her full look. 

“Makes the booty look good.” he commented.

“It do?” she laughed.

“Yes ma’am.” he nodded in agreement, and they both laughed in tandem.

Armin felt his heart pang at the sight of her in her nurse's uniform. She looked beautiful, ethereal, a goddess of healing. It was amazing, really, how a boring, plain tunic dress could get him so flustered. Maybe he had a thing for women in uniform? He had no idea. He knew that he certainly had never felt this way about anyone else that he’d ever seen in uniform. 

While everyone stood and complimented her, egged her on with wolf whistles and cheers, Armin sat back, his face burning and his body sweaty. He quietly excused himself and went outside for some air, attempting to calm himself down.

Within the first week of her arrival, (Y/N) felt extremely close to her new friends. She knew that they didn’t trust her fully, but she understood; she was an outsider they didn’t know until a week ago, being entrusted with some of their deepest secrets. She appreciated their position and held no untoward feelings towards them.

Occasionally, she would find Armin sat by a large window in his free time, propped up on the windowsill, reading a book. She joined him one of those times, and it quickly became their little ritual. Each evening, leaving dinner together to go sit by the window and read in comfortable silence. 

She finished the book Armin had given her in one night, staying up into the early hours to finish it. He was right to warn her, it was extremely heartbreaking, the book ending with the boy dying and the girl being left to move on and live her life without him. She finished the book in floods of tears, and when she saw him for breakfast a few hours later, he asked her if she was okay, her eyes puffy and dull.  “I stayed up and read the whole book, Armin. You were right. I’m devastated.” she pouted.

He chuckled softly and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving her a sympathetic expression. “I told you.”

“I know.”

Another two weeks passed, and (Y/N) sat in her bed, reminiscing on her time spent in Paradis. She smiled at the memories she had made; laughing at Connie and Sasha’s friendly banter and arguments and Eren and Jean’s semi-friendly feuds. She had gotten close to Sasha and Mikasa, the three of them going out for coffee occasionally on their off days and putting the world to rights.

But the times she treasured the most were the times she spent with Armin.

The times they’d go to the market together, window shopping and browsing the bookstore. The conversations they had over dinner where she told him more and more about the outside world, even teaching him some phrases of Spanish, the other language she spoke, taught to her by other prisoners of war whilst they were held in camps. He was amazed at her knowledge, at her ability to effortlessly teach him the foreign words, at her patience when he was struggling with pronunciation. 

Her favourite times spent with him were of course sitting at the window together, reading in tandem, not conversing, just silently enjoying each other's company. 

A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

“Come in.” she shouted after readjusted her nightgown, ensuring that her breasts weren’t spilling out the top. 

When the door opened, cerulean eyes and a golden halo of hair greeted her.

“Hi Armin!” she exclaimed, rubbing one of her eyes with her fist.  “Sorry, did I wake you?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

“No, no, I was just daydreaming.” she laughed. “What's up?”

He stridded over and sat down on her bed, eyes glazed over with apprehension, his body tense with nerves. She resisted the urge to pull a face upon noticing his nerves.

“I, uh… I have something for you.” His baby blues darted back and forth between hers, his breath shaky.

“Oh, okay. What is it?” she asked, giving him a warm smile, hoping it would help calm his nerves.

A shy smile graced his lips. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

“Oh god, what is it?” she giggled, obliging his request.

She felt him place a soft, velvet pouch into her palms.

“You can open your eyes now.” he said, apprehension laced in his voice.

She opened her eyes and furrowed her brows at the sight before her. “What’s this?” she asked, cocking her head to the side slightly in curiosity. She opened the small pouch and reached inside, pulling out

the golden locket from the marketplace.

“Oh Armin, you didn’t…” she whispered, her mouth open in shock. She held it up in front of her, admiring the way the gold gleamed in the early morning sunlight.

“There's no photo or anything in it, so you can put in whatever you want. I saw it at the marketplace this morning, still for sale at the stall, and I remembered you looking at it, so… I thought I would buy it for you.” he said meekly, looking at the floor. His cheeks blossomed with a deep shade of rouge.

(Y/N) felt her heart melt into a puddle beneath her, tears welling in her eyes. God, he was so sweet, so cute, so kind, so considerate, so thoughtful.

She leaned forward and pulled him into a tight embrace, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Oh my god Armin, thank you so much. This is the nicest, sweetest thing anyones ever done for me.”

He gasped as he felt her bring his body towards hers, apprehensively wrapping his arms around her in return. “I’ve just… really enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. I really appreciate your companionship, and I wanted to say thank you.”

She could have died . This sweet boy, soft, sweet Armin, sat in front of her, holding her gently in his arms, stringing these saccharine sweet words together to express his appreciation of her. What did she do to deserve him?

She pulled back to look at him, her hand gently cupping his cheek. “I’ve really enjoyed our time together, too. God, Armin, you’re just so sweet and kind, I’ve never met another person like you.” she babbled, her mind racing, desperately trying to convey how much his presence meant to her. “It’s so nice to just be around you, to know that I don't have to force myself to say or do anything, just enjoy your company. Thank you again, Armin.” She smiled brightly, looking into his eyes, her own filled with adoration.

He felt himself being pulled into her like a magnet. She had this hold on him, one that no one else possessed, and he felt himself leaning in towards her.

“Do you want to put it on me?” she asked, looking down at the locket, pulling him from his thoughts.

‘ Damn it,’ he scolded himself. ‘ Too damn slow! ’

He smiled down at her. “Of course.” He pushed himself off the bed and stepped around her, standing behind her as she shifted on the bed so that her back was facing him. (Y/N) gently passed the locket to him, and he laid it onto her decolletage, snapping the clasp into place. She turned around to face him again, tracing the chain with her delicate finger, smiling down at it. “I absolutely love it. Thank you again, Armin. I’ll never let this go…” she whispered.

Armin slumped back down on the bed as she stood up, stretching, her nightgown pulling taught to her petite figure. He felt himself blush again at the sight of her, the way the thin material hugged her supple breasts and curves as she stretched.

“I need to get ready to go to the hospital.” she huffed, groaning at the thought of the arduous 10 hour shift ahead of her.

“O-Oh, of course…” he stammered meekly. “I’ll meet you at the hospital when you finish if you want? We can go for a walk? I know of a really nice place I’d like to show you. The view is stunning.” he said, pushing a false confidence into his voice.

She looked down at him with a smile, and he had to bite back a grin at her slightly dishevelled appearance. “I would love to.”

#my writings #sidelines #armin x y/n #armin x reader #ocean prince #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

[kamreadsandrecs]

Title: The Lure of the Moonflower (Pink Carnation #12) Author: Lauren Willig Genre/s: romance, historical, Regency romance Content/Trigger Warning/s: period-accurate misogyny, period-accurate racism, one use of the N-word in a period context, mention of a parent’s suicide (in a character’s past) Summary (from the author’s website): Portugal, December 1807. Jack Reid, the British agent known as the Moonflower (formerly the French agent known as the Moonflower), has been stationed in Portugal and is awaiting his new contact. He does not expect to be paired with a woman—especially not the legendary Pink Carnation. All of Portugal believes that the royal family departed for Brazil just before the French troops marched into Lisbon. Only the English government knows that mad seventy-three-year-old Queen Maria was spirited away by a group of loyalists determined to rally a resistance. But as the French garrison scours the countryside, it's only a matter of time before she's found and taken. It's up to Jane to find her first and ensure her safety. But she has no knowledge of Portugal or the language. Though she is loath to admit it, she needs the Moonflower. Operating alone has taught her to respect her own limitations. But she knows better than to show weakness around the Moonflower—an agent with a reputation for brilliance, a tendency toward insubordination, and a history of going rogue. Buy Here: https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-lure-of-the-moonflower-lauren-willig/11145744 Spoiler-Free Review: Now I’ll admit: one of the reasons it took be so very long to pick this up is because of the pairing. I wanted to know what happened to Jane, of course, given the events of Purple Plumeria, but I wasn’t feeling very kindly towards Jack, who had caused everyone a world of trouble in Blood Lily and again in Purple Plumeria. And since I wasn’t all that into the pairing, I decided to pass on it until I was in the mood...which basically took me almost a decade to get over. But hey, that was the point of this massive reread: to finally just get on with it. Plus, my feelings regarding Jack had softened over time (and the fact that I’d forgotten most of what he’d done haha), so I decided to just get on with it and read it to finally finish the series. And I’ll admit, I was pleasantly surprised by how the pairing worked! My dislike of Jack came back over the course of the reread, albeit in a milder form than when I first read the series, and the way he acted in the first few chapters of this book certainly didn’t help. He struck me as an unnecessarily edgy SOB, whose past was certainly tragic but: come on. To be fair though, I thought that Jane was rather unlikable as well in the first chapters - something I didn’t notice in my previous read but which I finally noticed in the reread leading up to this book. Jane is, frankly speaking, a bit of a bitch: high-handed, snooty, and a know-it-all on a level that’s pretty annoying. There’s glimpses of it in Garden Intrigue, and then again in Purple Plumeria, but you really get a front-row seat for it in this book and BOY is it annoying. So you’d think these two wouldn’t have any sort of chemistry, and for the first couple of chapters, that is very true. I was skeptical of the pairing initially, wondering how the author would make it work. But I am glad to say that the author DID make it work - mostly by having these two abrasive personalities rub up against each other (metaphorically speaking - though, okay, also a bit literally in certain scenes) until their prickliness smoothed out and they, finally, became honest with each other about their past experience and emotions. Willig also used this as an opportunity to explore how the racism that Jack experienced as someone of half-British, half-Indian descent meant that he could not truly belong anywhere and engage with society as he wished to, unable to put his immense talents to good use in a legitimate way, In a similar fashion, the constant overwhelming misogyny and chauvinism of British society at the time meant Jane could not serve her country in the traditional way. Both Jack and Jane have been denied the traditional/legitimate paths to service and glory because society has denied them the opportunity to do more - Jack for being mixed race, and Jane for being a woman. And it is this connection that draws them together, and then as the novel progresses, becomes the foundation on which their romantic relationship is built. While the love story is certainly something I enjoyed, I will say that the fate of the Gardener is...something I kind of predicted. I guess it comes from the intense familiarity I have with the series because of the reread, but suffice to say that I already knew how a certain scene was going to turn out, which means the tension of the scene itself was entirely lost on me. Speaking of things I saw coming from a mile away: Eloise and Colin get a happy ending, though there’s a bit of family drama that rears its head up in this novel that, like the aforementioned scene involving the Gardener, loses all its tension - not just because I already knew how it would turn out, but because it just seemed a bit...silly? Anyway: I AM FINALLY DONE WITH THIS SERIES AND CAN PUT IT TO BED BABYEEEEE~! And now I think to cleanse my brain with something a bit harder-edged. Rating: four moonflowers

#book review #book reviews #historical #romance #regency #the lure of the moonflower #pink carnation series #lauren willig #books

[highlifestyleindia]

‘Remarkable women’ celebrated through floral exhibit in New York

The Fleurs de Villes FEMMES floral exhibition in New York City welcomed guests with thousands of flowers in vibrant shades of pink, purple, blue, orange, and yellow.

"We're so thrilled to be back here for our third show at Hudson Yards. And we're bringing our FEMME show, which is a celebration of remarkable women," said Tina Barkley, co-founder of Fleurs de Villes. "So you'll see everyone from the queen to J. Lo to Bella Abzug to Serena Williams to Billie Holiday, Chita Rivera."

A local New York florist, according to Barkley, planned and constructed each display of these iconic women mannequins covered in flowers.

The sixteen over 10-foot-tall mannequins are draped in hydrangeas, baby's breath, violets, and other flowers.

Over 700 flowers, according to Daica Skrobala, owner of Polycarp Flowers and floral designer, were used to create her Fanny Brice flower arrangement.

"We decided to do the marquee and on the other side, 'Hello gorgeous,' which is Fanny Brice's tagline," she said. "We had the Playbill on the base and we hope that all the different textures and the designs will really attract people to take a look, deeper."

According to Skrobala, her team's use of creativity allowed them to bring the concept to life.

"We used a lot of botanicals, fresh florals in the skirt, roses, carnations, spray roses," she said. "We have orchids in there because it gives it a different texture and it doesn't look so flat if it was just all roses."

Every significant life event, whether joyous or tragic, according to Barkley, is commemorated with flowers.

"It doesn't matter your income level, where you come from, what language you speak. Flowers transcend all of that."

The show will go on through October 16.

#new york #women #flowers #exhibition #celebration #floral #instadaily #instagood #insta #followback #follow #news #trending #like #likesforlike #trends #explorepage #explore #instagram

[leweebdepoche]

The carnation princess with cotton hands (Short story)

Once upon a time there was a kingdom of flowers in which all the flowers were happy. Everyone ate their fill, had a roof over their heads, basic rights were protected, and no one feared murder or theft because no one had a reason to kill or steal. In this wonderful world where everyone was happy, the little flowers lived in harmony under the benevolent care of King Orchid and Queen Peony and their daughter, Princess Carnation, named Asabée. They were loved and respected throughout the kingdom, and Princess Asabée in particular for her great beauty and kindness. Very close to the people, she often spent time with the young flowers and those about to wither to accompany them in their last moments. Her liveliness and warm smile radiated all around her, bringing a little more happiness to the inhabitants of the kingdom.

Princess Asabée was happy too. She loved this kingdom in which everyone was happy, and she prayed every day that this peace would still be there when she got up in the morning. She had been raised with love by her parents, and had benefited from an education common to all flower children, provided by her teacher Chrysanthemum. She learned to read, to write, the history of the kingdom and the way it was able to work on its own. The kingdom was self-sufficient : everything it needed was produced within its borders. It did not transport anything outside, nor did it have any diplomatic contact with the other kingdoms around it. Most of the flowers in the kingdom thought that the kingdom was the only state in the world, and that the world stopped at the kingdom's borders.

Asabée had never really thought about this situation. She had taken it for granted and did not question it any further. For her, things were as they were, and that was all. One day, as she was walking alone in the village where she had come to spend some time looking after flowers in need, she came across a poor rose that was very damaged. It lay unconscious on the path, its stem and leaves covered with wounds. Asabée had never seen a flower in such a state! Since there was no crime in her kingdom, flowers were only injured by accident, nothing this rose seemed to have encountered.

She picked him up and dragged him as best she could to an isolated shed in the village. It was the nearest building she could find. After laying him on the ground, she began to dress his wounds. She realised that the rose's life would not be in danger. She sighed with relief once she had finished tending to the injured flower. She fetched some berries to prepare a healing decoction for her patient. As she did so, a host of questions began to fill her mind. Where had he come from? Why was he in this state? Why was he in such a state? And who had done this to him?

Shaking her head to get rid of all these questions, the carnation princess concentrated on her gathering. She returned to the shed with a basket full of medicinal herbs. As she approached the door of the small wooden cottage, she saw that the rose was hanging on the door and trying to stand up, but could not, his legs were so weak. Asabée rushed to his aid. Supporting him with one shoulder she led him back into the shed and helped him to lie down on the floor.

"Why did you get up? In the state you're in, you shouldn't even be moving!" she lectured him as she replaced the bandages that had slipped off her patient's body. The rose held her by the arm, trying to say something. Seeing the state in which he was putting himself despite all the efforts she was making to help him heal, she got angry.

"That's enough, I forbid you to move!" she said. "You're badly hurt, if you do more stupid things like that, you'll never heal!”

She took the hand that the rose had placed on her arm and placed it back on the ground, against his body. She got up and walked to the small fireplace in the corner of the shed and prepared her decoction, throwing the leaves and branches into the boiling water, which she rinsed and sorted meticulously beforehand. The princess was used to this kind of thing, as she often took care of the old and the sick in the villages she visited.

Once the drink was ready, she approached the rose and gently lifted his head, placing the bowl gently between its bruised lips. Softly, she poured the contents of the bowl down his throat, making sure he drank at least half of it. But the rose was half-conscious, and it was not an easy task for the princess. She did manage to get him to drink about a third of his drink. Resting her head on the floor with all the care in the world, she went out of the shed and blocked the door to make sure her patient did not try to escape again. She pulled her bonnet over her head to protect herself from the cool evening air and headed for the village. Her tutor was probably still waiting for her there, very worried about her disappearance.

She found him walking up and down the central square, surrounded by flowers looking just as worried as he was. The Chrysanthemums ran up to the carnation princess as soon as he saw her.

"Princess! I've been worried sick! Where have you been? You suddenly disappeared after saying you wanted to go for a walk in the forest surrounding the village! Nothing happened to you, did it?"

The tall Chrysanthemums turned her around to inspect her and finally calmed down when he saw that the little carnation was not hurt at all. Losing her patience, Asabée ordered him to calm down and listen to her. She told him that she wanted to spend the night under the stars, that she had found a clearing and that she wanted to stay there alone. The weather was fine and warm, she was sure there would be no rain. The Chrysanthemums waddled with hesitation. He was reluctant to leave the princess alone, but he knew that she was right and that she would be safe. Besides, the princess often needed time alone. He knew that. But his job was to worry, so he was torn about the right decision to make. He looked at the princess who was begging him with her imploring eyes. He gave in with a sigh. The princess jumped for joy. She promised to return the next day before noon.

Excited, she took some things for the night from the local shopkeeper, and returned to the shed. At least she could keep an eye on the condition of the rose during the night. If he made it through the night, he would survive without any problems. His condition was not critical. She sat in the corner, level with her sleeping patient's head, her knees bent against her. She let her thoughts wander and quickly drifted off into a much-needed restful sleep. It had been a long day for her.

The next morning she was awakened by the sun's rays caressing her warm cheek. The chirping of the birds told her that it was close to seven o'clock. She got up, stretched her aching body from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position, and took her basket to fetch another potion.

She returned an hour later with her basket full. When she pushed open the door of the cottage to enter, she saw the rose leaning on an elbow, trying to sit up. She quickly put down her basket and rushed to the convalescent to help him. Once seated, she put her shoulder against his to help him hold himself up. The rose wobbled slightly from the pain. He thanked the carnation princess in a soft voice. Asabée looked at him more carefully. His petals were damaged, but their colour was a sublime orange, as warm as the summer sun. "What a beautiful rose!" she thought in admiration.

"Did you treat me yesterday?" the rose asked. The carnation princess replied that yes, she had dressed his wounds and had given him a concoction to heal him last night. She also told him that he had tried to escape while she had gone to collect the plants she needed. The rose apologised for this and explained that he had wanted to leave because he thought that someone had locked him up there to abuse him. He had therefore tried to run away, but had changed his mind when he saw Asabée who had come running. He had understood that she would not do anything to harm him and so had let herself be harmed.

The princess nodded, now understanding the situation. She had a million questions to ask him, but first she had to make him another concoction to get him back on his feet. Supporting him as best she could, she helped him to the wall, against which he leaned to keep himself upright. She rekindled the fire and put water on to boil. In the cramped, silent room, she began to sort out the plants and throw them into the small pot she had placed on the hearth.

Watching her do this, the rose finally began to speak.

"Please don't tell anyone I'm here! I don't want to be sent away, I'm tired of running away all the time." Asabée gave him a pitying look. She could see the desperation in the rose's face. She pressed her lips together and told him that she would nurse him back to health and then send him away. The rose looked at her imploringly. She turned her back, running away from the guilt she didn't know how to fight.

"I have no choice..." she explained. "If they find out I've been hiding you, they'll send you back immediately and I'll be put on trial.”

She knew that was not a good excuse, but she didn't know what to do. It was the first time she had done something like this. It was the first time she had broken the laws of her country and met a stranger. It was all too new and she felt lost. She didn't want to abandon him, but she was afraid of the consequences and of her inability to deal with them. She thought for a moment and then turned around.

"I will stay in the village while you heal. I'll visit you every day, and I'll make sure you're completely healed before I take you back to the border," she told him, having found no other way. "You have nothing to fear here, no one ever comes. I don't think anyone knows about this place."

The rose gave him a faint, grateful smile. He thanked her warmly, which made the princess' cheeks turn pink. She was doing the minimum so she was ashamed of how thankful he was to her.

"What is your name?" he asked her then.

"Asabée," she replied. "And you?"

"Niris," he said in turn. “Nice to meet you, Asabée ! I am infinitely grateful for the help you have given me. I will repay you in some way.”

The princess began to stir her concoction again before answering him. For her, kindness meant doing things without expecting anything in return. Knowing how to give all of one's time and energy without any ulterior motive, that is what being good meant. She explained her vision of things to him, telling him that the best way to give back what she had done for him was to get better and to leave in good health. The rose smiled.

"Few people know what true kindness means. You are one of those few, Asabée, know that."

The carnation did not answer. She was troubled by this newcomer who seemed to know so much. He intimidated her and fascinated her at the same time. Curious, she turned to him, a bowl full of the remedy she had just prepared in her hands. She handed him the bowl, which he quickly emptied before returning it to her. She put some of the ingredients back into the pot that was waiting on the stove for breakfast, and then asked him, unable to take it any longer.

"Niris, where are you from? And why are you so hurt? What happened to you?"

The rose turned his head towards the single small window at the top of the wall opposite the one he was leaning against. He thought for a moment and then, seemingly making up his mind, turned to Asabée who was eagerly awaiting his answers.

"Asabée, may I tell you my story? It's a bit long, but I think you'll understand better what happened to me. And I trust you, which is why I want to tell you why I am here today.

Asabée nodded with a very serious look on her face. She was happy to have gained the rose's trust. Her eagerness to know the reason for his situation made her feverish. She opened her ears wide and focused her attention on what the rose had to say. The injured flower began his story.

Far away from here there was a kingdom inhabited by many flowers, so large that it could contain twice the kingdom of Asabée within its borders. This country was large and densely populated, but it had no great wealth. Its inhabitants worked hard to earn a living, they experienced poverty and loneliness, justice was far from perfect and security was only existing for those who could afford it. The rulers were not necessarily bad, but they had to deal with a lot of parameters they could not control.

Niris had grown up in this kingdom. One of the reasons why this kingdom had difficulty developing a decent economy was the war that had been raging for over twenty years. They alternated between short periods of peace lasting two-three years and periods of conflict lasting five years. This put a huge strain on their economy, which failed to stabilise at all. Niris had grown up in this unstable environment. He had seen misery, flowers dying for no reason or fleeing their homes and leaving everything behind. He had seen the famine, the orphans and the inability of the government to resolve the situation. That is why he left. After years of living in this country that he loved in spite of everything, he had decided to leave it to find a way to save it.

He had heard about a country in books, a country where all the flowers were happy, where there was no misery, no war. A country where everyone could live as they pleased without suffering from their differences or having to worry about what they would eat at the end of the day. He wanted to find out about such a country and how they managed to establish such a thing. In his search for this dream country, he had unfortunately learned that it was closed to the rest of the world and did not accept any foreigners.

But he was desperate and tried to enter it anyway, and was confronted by the guards of the neighbouring country who were in charge of preventing foreigners from crossing the borders. He had managed to get through, but only after a hard fight, which explained his numerous injuries. He had fainted on the way from exhaustion, and Asabée knew the rest, since she had picked him up and brought him to this hut to heal him.

The carnation princess listened attentively while eating her breakfast. She had no idea what Niris was telling her. The books she had read spoke of nothing but her kingdom. She knew nothing of the rest of the world, although she suspected that it must exist beyond the confines of her country. She didn't think Niris was lying, she just found it hard to imagine. Famine and war were only things she had read about in books.

She was also completely unaware that neighbouring countries were hunting intruders for them. Lost in her thoughts, she gasped when the rose put his hand on her arm to make sure she was still listening. Batting her eyelashes quickly, she apologised for having strayed from the conversation and told him she was listening.

"I am the prince of this country, and to see my people suffer in this way without my mother, the queen, being able to put an end to this endless war, is unbearable to me. I have gone to meet the king and queen of this country and ask for their help. I don't know if I will succeed, but I want to try.”

Asabée smiled weakly at him. She did not know what to say to him. That's why she didn't say anything for the moment. She served him more soup before helping him to lie down again. She told him again that she would take care of him until he recovered and took her things. The carnation had to go to Chrysanthemum to reassure him and get her to live in the village for a while. She would use the outbreak of aphids that were harming the young flowers in the area as an argument. She pulled her light cloak over her shoulders, picked up her basket and took one last look at the rose that had already fallen asleep. She was tortured inside and did not know what to do. Resigned, the princess told herself that she would think about it later, and that for now, she would be satisfied with fulfilling her part of the deal. She closed the door meticulously behind her.

The days passed peacefully. Asabée had managed to convince her tutor to let her live in the village until the aphid pandemic was over. She went to the cottage three times a day. Very early in the morning, in the middle of the day and late at night. Sometimes she even stayed the night because they had talked so long with Niris that she had not seen them pass and the night was already well underway. The wounds of the rose took longer than she had expected to heal. She took meticulous care of them, but she had underestimated how difficult it was for roses to regenerate.

Meanwhile, Niris was talking to her about the outside world. He told her about the country he had lived in, its people, its culture, its climate... This country was warmer and more mountainous than her little kingdom, which was wedged between the mountains and very green because it was full of water. In the country of Niris, the sun was much stronger and burned the earth. Few things could grow in this arid soil, and water was a rare commodity that the flower population shared with care. It was highly industrialised and advanced in mechanics and steelmaking. It was also because of the war that these sectors had developed a lot.

But the flowers loved the heat and the sun, they loved the dry land and danced and sang to forget the harsh climate. They lived close to each other, sharing their joys to overcome the hardships together. Asabée was fascinated. This world that she did not know and that she discovered through Niris' stories, she was eager to discover it for herself. Her curiosity grew as the rose told her about his life and his journey. The places he had seen, she wanted to see too. She now felt suffocated in this small country cut off from the world and longed for only one thing: to leave it to discover the outside world. But she knew that her parents would be opposed to this.

One day, she couldn't stand it any longer and told Niris that she was the princess of this kingdom. Stunned by the news, the prince took her hands and begged her to take her to her parents so that he could defend his cause. Asabée told him that they would not listen to him and they would send him away immediately once they discovered his presence. Seeing the desperation of the rose after her many refusals, she felt her heart clench and could not refuse any longer. She agreed to look for a way to get him an audience. She did not know if she would succeed, but she could not bear to see the rose prince so sad. In the few weeks she had spent with him, she had become very attached to him and had developed feelings that she was experiencing for the first time, which made her very confused about the situation.

So when Niris passed his leaves around her to embrace her in a grateful hug, the little carnation's heart leapt in her chest. She stammered that she wasn't promising anything and that she would just try to find a solution. Embarrassed by her behaviour, she suddenly got up and gathered her things, claiming that it was already getting dark and that she had to get back to the village before she aroused any more suspicion.

A few days passed after that. There was still a wound on the stem of the rose that stubbornly refused to heal despite the carnation's best efforts. No matter how much she rubbed ointments, salves and other remedies on it, nothing helped! The wound was still open and bleeding the next morning. Opening the bandage for the umpteenth time, she sighed in despair when she saw the wound in the same state as the day before. She gave a sorry look to the prince, who stubbornly avoided her gaze. She apologised for her incompetence in treating the wound and as she went to get a new ointment to apply to it, the prince suddenly held her by the arm. He apologised confusedly, admitting that he reopened the wound every night so that it would not heal. He didn't want to leave the dreamland, and above all, his heart was tearing at the idea of having to leave Asabée, with whom he had been in love since his arrival.

Feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, the carnation princess put her hands in front of her mouth, overwhelmed by emotion. This was what she felt! Love! She had just realised it when she heard Niris' words. Turning his head to the side, red with embarrassment after his declaration, the rose prince did not dare look the carnation princess in the eyes. Asabée smiled gently and placed her hands on either side of the prince's face. She forced him to turn to her and look into her eyes.

"I too, my prince, have feelings for you. I don't know how long or why, but I am sure that the thought of seeing you suffer or having to leave you tears my heart apart. I love you Niris."

The prince's eyes widened at Asabée' words. She was definitely braver than he was. Losing themselves in each other's eyes, they they tenderly embraced, expressing their love far more than the words they had just spoken. Indulging in their passio, they were suddenly startled by footsteps coming dangerously close to the shed. Frightened, Asabée rushed to the door to try to block it before the intruders entered, but it was too late. The palace guards burst into the small shed. Backing away as she saw them enter, the princess threw herself on the rose to protect him with her body. She begged them not to hurt him or she would hurt herself.

They tried as hard as they could to separate them, but the two lovers were clinging so tightly to each other that it was impossible to move them apart. Seeing that the situation could turn out badly, Niris begged the guards to let him have an interview with the king and queen, after which he would leave of his own accord without causing any trouble. As the princess cried and told him not to give in, he tried to comfort her by telling her to trust him and that everything would be fine. Resigned, Asabée accepted the walk, and the guards led them to the palace.

Throughout the journey, the carnation princess turned her mind back and forth to find a solution. She wanted to live with Niris, she had decided, and she wanted to help him in his quest. She wanted to discover this world she knew nothing about and use her knowledge and willingness to help those in need. And above all she wanted to share this goal with the rose prince. She understood the extent of her feelings and was ready to accept the consequences.

She also knew that she would find herself in a delicate situation since she had violated a fundamental rule by protecting and harbouring a stranger on the territory of her kingdom. She would have to go to court to be judged for this violation of a fundamental right. This is why she was ready to put her parents in front of a relatively simple choice: either she would be judged for her crimes, or they would let them go quietly and she would leave her title of princess to live a difficult life with Niris. It was her choice, and she hoped her parents would understand.

They finally arrived at the castle, and were both placed in a cell beneath the palace. The guards had tried to separate them again without success. So they gave up and locked them up together until the hearing in the morning.

Still embracing each other, the two flowers huddled in the back of the cell to protect themselves from the humidity and cold of the night that was setting in. Asabée told Niris of her plan, and he approved. He thanked her for following him and sharing his plan. He then promised to take care of her as long as they were together.

The day of the hearing came quickly. Bravely facing her parents and the solemn assembly, Asabée did not flinch and announced that she wanted to leave the country to travel the world. Her parents tried to dissuade her, of course, but nothing helped. She told them how she disapproved of the way her country was living, even though she recognised that the people of the kingdom were happy and that she had no other alternative to propose. The princess explained that ignorance was, in her opinion, not a virtue but rather an evil, and that those who chose it bore the consequences. She refused to live in ignorance because she refused to bear that guilt. The more the days passed, the more she wondered why she prayed every night for a happiness that was only available to a small part of the population of their world, simply because they were born in the right place at the right time. Ending her speech on this point, she waited attentively for her parents' answer.

Closing her eyes for a moment, her mother told her that she was acknowledging her decision while her father was crying his eyes out. The Poeny warned her, however, that she would not be allowed to return, regardless of her situation. If things did not go well with the rose prince, or if she did not achieve her goal, she would have to fend for herself, for she would find the country she chose to leave closed to her. Responding to the harshness of her mother's tone, Asabée replied that she understood and that she would fully assume the consequences of her words and actions by never returning to seek refuge in her parents' country. After that, it was decided that the two flowers would leave in the night and be accompanied to the border. Once they would have reached it, they would be left to their own devices.

When the time came, the farewell between the carnation princess and her parents was heart-breaking, although her mother did not shed a tear, but Asabée knew she was hiding her pain from seeing her dear daughter leave and never return. Fleeing into the dark night, the couple made their way across the border and then found themselves alone in a foreign land. They travelled for many months, braving the many perils that came their way, but never wavered. Finding in each other the support they needed, they managed to overcome the difficulties and reach a peaceful land where they founded a republic.

Accepting their inability to resolve the conflict in the land of Niris, they decided to found their own country to take in the survivors of this deadly conflict. Working tirelessly to build a world of peace and acceptance, they dedicated their lives to this exhausting task, which took the life of the rose prince who left his beloved behind. Despite the harshness of the life she had chosen, the carnation princess had never for a moment regretted her choice. And when Niris had closed his eyes for the last time, she knew that he had been happy too. She was grateful for the love he had given her and the life they had chosen together.

And so she proudly continued her journey through this world, setting out again to achieve her original goal: to end the war in her late husband's kingdom. Leaving their country in the hands of its citizens, who had formed a participatory government that respected the voice of its inhabitants, she set out again for parts unknown. No one heard from her again after that, and she was remembered as the Princess Carnation with Cotton Hands for her gifts as a healer, which she had put at the service of the weak.

THE END

#tale #short story #fiction #love story #romance #red carnations #roses #flowers #prose poetry #prose #original prose #my prose #poetry #poetic #writers and poets #relationship

[mysterycharacterflowers]

Round 4; A bouquet of sunflowers, dandelions, ferns, foxglove, hollyhock, lotus, balsamine, green carnation, fennel, black eyed susan and queen of night Vs A bouquet of star magnolia, lavender, dark crimson rose, white carnations, sweet pea and forget me nots

First, let's talk about the bouquet of sunflowers, dandelions, ferns, foxglove, hollyhock, lotus, balsamine, green carnation, fennel, black eyed susan and queen of night

Why and meaning: Sunflowers- very literal in their relation to the sun. Dandelions- overcoming hardship Ferns- magic or enchantment Foxglove- insecurity Hollyhock- ambition Lotus- rebirth Balsamine- impatience Green Carnation- he is homosexual Fennel- strength Black eyed Susan- justice Queen of the Night- enjoy small moments because they do not last Description: Hes sooooo silly your honor. Hes my skrunkly blorbo oongly. THE babygirl. Hes 35 years old, hes the chosen one, he has a sickass sword. He keeps adopting stray children like pokemon cards, hes broke as a goddamn joke. He managed to score a major fucking hottie by being peculiar and having sopping wet cat energy. He’s gay, he's gray-ace, he has a layered, complex queer platonic relationship with his best friend and every single woman he knows could throttle him. He's my special little boy please

Check his post here

Now, let's talk about the bouquet of star magnolia, lavender, dark crimson rose, white carnations, sweet pea and forget me nots

Meaning and why this flower was chosen: – Lavender for distrust. Dark crimson rose for mourning. White carnations and sweet pea for when truth has gone. Forget me nots for the girl who refuses to be erased. – Star magnolia: it means perseverance, purity, it was chosen because it resembles the flower she wears in her hair Description: — She’s a paradox. She can’t exist yet her existence is what drives the story. She’s the mastermind. She never had a choice. She’s never told a lie. You can’t trust her as far as you can throw her. She saw the end of the universe at twelve years old. She caused the apocalypse. She saved the world. She spends the rest of her life atoning for the sin of keeping herself alive. Yet, her life is what makes the universe keep spinning. — Kidnapped as a child by a rich company studying psychic powers and forced to play a deadly game unlocked her latent psychic abilities... that allowed her to see into, and manipulate, the future and other timelines. Trapped and afraid and full of newfound power, she used this ability to manipulate her best friend into saving her life, years in the future. In the future, then, it was up to her to set the gears in motion to create the scenario that saved her life in the past. The power, once she harnessed it, never left her. She could see the threads of all the timelines and the outcomes of decisions... and she saw an apocalypse coming. She had to choose between staying with her friend, who she had come to love, and abandoning him to dedicate herself to preventing the apocalypse she saw (that he could not be part of). And she did. The apocalypse came so soon, and in its aftermath, she spent decades of her life using her timeline-reaching abilities to find and formulate a plan that would have stopped the apocalypse, and taught it to the person who could time-travel to implement it. She could not, herself, travel back to the past; she could only see the threads of decisions, what would be and could be, and use that information to construct the perfect timeline. The version of her that survived the apocalypse knew that she would never get to live in the saved timeline; she wrote off herself, and everyone else in this timeline, for a chance to set things right for another version of her and another version of everyone. She is dedicated to the point of being frightening, and consequentialist to the point of being cold. But it's in the name of saving the world - and never being at the mercy of another selfish cruel rich powerful people who thinks that their money means they can do whatever they want, ever again.

Check her post here

#round 4 #mysterious character: a bouquet of sunflowers - dandelions - ferns - foxglove - hollyhock - lotus - balsamine - green carnation - fennel + #mysterious character: a bouquet of star magnolia - lavender - dark crimson rose - white carnations - sweet pea - forget me nots

[dontcare77ghj]

Don’t Touch That Dial

Wanda x reader x Vision

Non-reader POV

It was the middle of the night. Vision, Y/N, and Wanda were all sound asleep in their single beds when Wanda bolted upright at a loud thudding sound.

"What was that?" Wanda wondered aloud. She looked to her right to see Y/N and Vision sleeping. For a second, she questioned if she should chance to wake them up, but when the thuds continued, she turned the light on with her magic.

Stop being silly, Wanda chided herself, turning the light off. But what if it is something? Wanda wondered, snapping the light back on. It's probably nothing, Wanda. She decided turning the light off again, this time for good.

While Wanda was debating waking her loves, she hadn't noticed they had already woken.

"Wanda?" Vision asked, pulling his eye mask off.

"Yes, dear?" 

"Are you using your powers to turn on the light?" Vision questioned, staring at the window.

"Yes, dear," Wanda admitted, feeling guilty.

"Allow me, dear." Vision said, getting out of bed as Y/N sat up.

"What even woke you up?" Y/N asked before there was another loud thud. "Never mind."

"What do you see?" Wanda questioned Vision, who was now standing at the window.

"Only your lovely rosebushes and carnations," Vision told her.

"That's all?" Y/N wondered.

"Are you using your night vision, Vision?" Wanda quizzed the man.

"I assure you, my love, I see nothing amiss." Vision promised, turning to face both women. "You have absolutely no reason to be frightened." The android said before there was another loud bang. Vision let out a loud yelp and jumped back into bed quickly.

"You were saying?" Y/N asked, raising a brow while Wanda shook her head. 

"Actually, I did overhear a couple of lads at work remarking on a few unsavory characters settling in the neighborhood. Now, who knows what those ne'er-do-wells might be up to? Robbing houses, vandalizing property." Vision suggested.

"Walking through walls. Moving objects without touching them. Causing lightning of sunny days." Wanda teased.

"I did that once, and it was because you scared me," Y/N grumbled. 

"Wanda, sweetheart, you can't possibly be suggesting my colleagues were referring to us," Vision asked before there was another bang.

The three jumped, and Wanda caused all three beds to join.

"One of us should really determine the source of that sound." Vision commented.

"That's something we could do," Y/N said, clutching her blankets.

"One of us should." Wanda agreed.

It was more a bang this time that caused them all to jump.

"Oh, this getting ridiculous." Y/N snapped, pushing her blankets down. "I am going to take a look." 

"Be careful, Y/N."

"Oh, God." 

Without moving from her spot, Y/N blew the curtains open to reveal the tree. Its branches, crashing against the window.

"Well, I think we handled that well," Wanda said, sinking down into the bed.

"Yes, I must say I'm rather proud of myself. And look how you seized the opportunity to redecorate." Vision said, noting that all their beds were pressed together.

"This is better, isn't it?" Wanda asked.

"Mmm." Vision nodded before Wanda pointed her finger, and instead of three separate beds, the three of you were now on one large joint bed.

"Why did it take us this long?" Y/N asked, smiling at how close she was to her husband and wife.

"Wanda, darling?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Hit the lights." 

The three pulled the blankets over their heads, and Wanda snapped the lights off.

"Ladies and gentlemen, for my final trick, I bring you The Cabinet of Mysteries." Vision practiced in front of an invisible audience. "Wanda, that's your cue." 

"You said "The Cabinet of Mysteries?" Wanda called from behind him. 

"I said "The Cabinet of Mysteries."

"Then that's my cue." Wanda agreed and began to wheel a large cabinet into their living room.

"Holy Toledo!" Vision exclaimed, rushing to help Wanda. "Darling, do all the other acts in the talent show have such elaborate props?"

"Are you kidding? Fred and Linda are building a moat and a fully functioning portcullis, and no-one knows why." Wanda shook her head. 

"I heard Fred was going to throw Linda into the moat," Y/N said from inside the cabinet. "Can we hurry this along? I'm getting claustrophobic." She added.

"Let's keep going." Wanda nodded, taking her place.

"Yes. Yes. Where was I? Ah, yes, watch closely as I, Illusion, Master of Enigma, make my captivating assistant, Glamour, disappear." Vision rehearsed as Wanda held her hand up and gasped. The two opened the doors, and Vision helped Wanda into the cabinet.

"You really are very dashing." Wanda complimented, breaking character.

"Thank you, darling." Vision smiled. "Fear not, Glamour, for I, Illusion vow, to bring you back." The android said, shutting the doors on Wanda. "Abracadabra." He announced, opening the doors to reveal Y/N standing in Wanda's place. "What's this? I seem to have changed my lovely assistant into another lovely being." 

"I saw your assistant in the dimension of the cabinet," Y/N said as Vision helped her out. "To bring her back, I think you'll have to try the spell again."

"So we shall." Vision nodded. He and Y/N closed the doors once more, and Vision held his wand at the ready. "Abracadabra." He said, tapping the cabinet twice, and when the doors opened, this time, there stood Wanda, who was clapping her hands and grinning widely.

"Darlings, you're not at all worried that the audience might just see through this little charade?"

"That's the whole point, sweetheart," Y/N assured her husband. "In a real magic act, everything is fake. Not everyone can do what Wanda does."

"The talent show fundraiser is the most important event of the season, and it's our neighborly duty to participate." Wanda fretted. "Plus, it's our chance to appear as normal as possible while doing so."

"Well, I don't think that should be a problem." Vision joked, gesturing to his undisguised face.

Y/N and Vision chuckled at Vision's joke, but Wanda just stared between the two.

"This is our home now. I just want us to fit in." Wanda admitted.

"Oh, Wand, of course, we fit in," Y/N promised, resting her hand on the woman's waist.

"And if not, then we shall. And we're going to knock the neighborhood's socks off. Especially if the two of you are dressed like this." Vision commented, picking up one of his wife's costumes.

"Oh, that's actually the rest of your costume." Wanda joked, cracking a smile. "Oh, Y/N, we better get going if we want to make the planning committee meeting." Wanda gasped, noting the time on her wristwatch.

"That's me off too, actually." Vision said, pulling on his sweater. "There's a gathering of the neighborhood watch at the public library. After last night's excitement, I want to make sure this town's security is up to snuff." He admitted.

"That's an outta sight idea, Vis." Y/N complimented.

"Real swell, sweetheart. You tell those tree branches whose boss." Wanda teased, leaning up to kiss the man.

"Would you look at us? Wanda, Y/N, and Vision, Westview fitter-inners." Vision smiled before kissing Y/N. "I'll see you both at curtain call." He said, moving to leave.

"Do you have your keys, Vis?" Y/N aked before he left the house. 

"Of course." Vision said, pulling on a hat and his glasses. "When have I ever forgot them?" He wondered, causing Y/N and Wanda to share a look.

"Just now, to name one time," Wanda said, floating Vision his set of keys.

"Oh. Perhaps my processors need a cleaning." Vision mused, changing his appearance and taking the floating keys. "Until curtain call!" He exclaimed.

"Until curtain call!" Both women called back.

Y/N and Wanda still had several minutes before they had to leave for the committee meeting. The two moved around the house, putting dishes away, straightening trinkets, and fluffing pillows when there was a loud noise outside.

"Do you think it's the tree?" Y/N wondered as Wanda began to move out the front door. 

But Wanda didn't respond as she continued to walk in a trance-like state.

"Sweetheart?" Y/N asked, following after her wife. Wanda moved outside and towards the rosebushes where a toy helicopter sat. "Do any of our neighbors have children?" Y/N asked, receiving no response once again.

Wanda pulled the toy out of the bush and stared at it in confusion. 

"Wanda? Sweetheart?" Y/N asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Howdie stars!" Agnes exclaimed, suddenly appearing at the gate. 

Both Y/N and Wanda jumped as Agnes chuckled.

"Agnes! Y/N!" Wanda chuckled, holding one hand to her chest. "I'm sorry, what did you say, Agnes?" Wanda asked, taking Y/N's hand and clutching it tightly.

"I brought my pet rabbit," Agnes said, holding up a cage with a large rabbit. "For your magic act." She explained.

"Yes, of course! Thank you, Agnes." Wanda nodded. 

"We promise we will take good care of him," Y/N added, taking the cage into her arms. "I'll take him inside." She told Wanda.

"I'll come with. I'll lock the back door." Wanda said, following her wife.

"Senor Scratchy just loves the stage. He played baby Jesus in last year's Christmas pageant." Agnes bragged loudly as the two Vision women took her rabbit into their home. "Good morning, Dennis." That was the last thing Y/N and Wanda heard from Agnes as they disappeared into their home.

"You gonna tell me what all that was about?" Y/N asked, putting Senor Scratchy's cage beside the couch.

"What what was all about?" Wanda asked, locking the back door.

"The helicopter." Y/N reminded. "You blanked out on me." She said as they moved back towards the front door.

"I'm having a spacey day, sweetheart. That's all." Wanda assured, closing the front door and stopping Y/N on the porch. "I promise." She said, pressing a kiss to Y/N's lips, taking her hand, and walking back down to Agnes. "Shall we?"

"We shall." Agnes smiled, hooking her arm around Wanda's free one. "So, are you ready to meet Queen Cul de Sac and her merry homemakers?" Agnes questioned the two.

"Dottie, can't be as bad as you say, Agnes." Wanda laughed.

"Wanda, have you met most women? Not everyone's like Agnes or us." Y/N asked, causing Agnes to laugh.

"She's right, you know? You'll notice Dottie's roses bloom under the penalty of death." Agnes told the two, though Wanda scoffed a little. "Can I give you girls a bit of friendly advice?" Agnes asked, stopping in her tracks.

"Is it about how we're dressed?"

"Yes, but it's too late for that now," Agnes said, looking the two over. 

Wanda looked concerned, but Y/N couldn't bring herself to care.

Pants were slowly becoming more incorporated in women's daily wardrobe, and Y/N wouldn't be giving them up for anyone.

"Dottie is the key to everything in this town." Agnes continued. "Country club memberships, parties, school admissions." She teased the two. 

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Wanda shook her head, though there was a smile on her face.

"You get in with Dotties, and it'll be smooth sailing from here on out," Agnes told them. "Just mind your P's and Q's, and you're gonna do just fine." She said assuringly.

"Why can't we just be ourselves?" Y/N asked.

"More or less so," Wanda added.

Agnes stared at the two in confusion before letting out a laugh.

"That's good, girls. Very good." She said.

"Everyone, hurry up, please." A new voice called. 

The three women turned to the left and noticed a fair-haired woman leaving a house with a procession of women behind her.

"Hiya, Dottie!" Agnes called. "Your roses are divine!" She complimented, waving a hand.

Y/N and Wanda both followed suit and waved as well. Wanda little more enthusiastically than Y/N's awkward one.

"Well, thank you." Dottie smiled politely and waved daintily. 

Neither Y/N nor Wanda knew just what they were getting themselves into.

Y/N, Wanda, and Agnes all followed Dottie and her group to the country club. The three had sat to the side as Dottie's followers meticulously set everything up.

As one woman spoke about the fundraiser's progress, Wanda watched Dottie intently as the woman made her ice tea to her liking.

"The rotary club is finishing the stage set-up as we speak. They've given the gazebo a fresh coat of paint, and they'll be installing the final decorations all throughout the town square. And if you recognize the antique footlights, it's because they're from my store." The lady standing finished explaining with a fake smile.

"And the chairs?" Dottie asked, tilting her head to the side.

The woman seemingly froze at Dottie's question before she forced a smile back onto her face.

"I'm sorry, Dottie. I didn't ask about the chairs." She admitted.

"So you better not ask me if you can chair any committees in the future," Dottie said, grinning at the other women who laughed at her words. "The devil's in the details, Bev," Dottie said, standing as Bev rushed back to her seat in shame.

"That's not the only place he is," Agnes said to Wanda.

"As you all know, the talent show is the sole fundraiser for Westview Elementary," Dottie explained.

"This might help," Agnes said, raising a small flask.

"Do you have any spare?" Y/N asked, leaning over Wanda, but Agnes shook her head.

"In the eight years since I founded our little club, this event has gotten bigger and better every season." Dottie bragged as a woman passed around a tray of biscuits to Y/N, who handed them onto Wanda.

"Say, those pants are peachy keen. Both sets." The mystery woman complimented.

"Do you really think so?" Wanda asked with wide eyes. "The other ladies are in skirts. I was worried."

"Not me," Y/N mumbled, sipping her drink.

"We only have a few hours until showtime. So, a little less cross chatter and a little more focus would be greatly appreciated," Dottie interrupted, causing the three to freeze.

"Okay." Wanda nodded, passing along the tray. 

"Those little boys and girls are counting on us. All of this is for the children." Dottie said.

The other women, bar Y/N and Wanda, parroted back the phrase, 

"For the children."

Y/N looked very uncomfortable at the chanting women and muttered,

"This is a cult."

But Wanda had been eating her biscuit and parroted the phrase back after everyone else had finished. 

Everyone turned to stare at the Vision women, and Dottie looked more than displeased at the two.

"So I want you all to give yourselves a big hand," Dottie started but was interrupted by Wanda clapping loudly. "At the appropriate time, of course." Dottie scolded as you grabbed Wanda's hands and pulled them down. "But first, let's review event etiquette. The dress code is, of course, upscale garden party,"

"The only reason I didn't clap is that I'm afraid to move." The woman beside Y/N leaned over to whisper.

"I don't think I was paying enough attention to clap," Y/N told her. The woman smiled while Wanda lightly hit her wife's leg.

"I actually don't know what I'm doing here." The mystery woman admitted. 

"I'm starting to feel that way myself," Wanda admitted. "I'm Wanda." She said, holding her hand out.

"I'm, uh, Geraldine." The woman introduced herself after taking Wanda's hand.

"And I'm Y/N."

"And I'm irritated." Dottie interrupted, staring at the three of you, her features pinched together in anger. "Tickets for tonight are completely sold out. Now you can clap." Dottie commanded. The woman allowed everyone to clap for five seconds before she raised her hand. "And stop."

"How is anyone doing this sober?" Agnes muttered, shaking her head.

Across town, Vision had finally made his way to the library and was rushing inside. Afraid to have missed his chance at joining the committee.

Vision quickly found the group he was looking for, surrounding a table, speaking quietly amongst themselves.

"Pardon me, is this the neighborhood watch meeting?" Vision asked, standing to the left of the group, his hat in his hands.

Everyone turned to stare at the man, all clearly unsure what he was doing there.

"Oh, hiya Vision. Didn't expect to see you here." Norm said. "This is sort of a 'members only' type of deal." He informed his coworker.

"Oh certainly! Right, well." Vision stuttered, rocking back on his heels. "I'll just stay here and be quiet as a church mouse until you open up the floor for new business." Vision assured the assembled group.

"Well, in truth, we were just getting to new business." Herb, his next-door neighbor, admitted.

"Oh, splendid! Could you tell me how often you rotate security patrols?" Vision inquired, pulling up a chair between Herb and Norm. "Do you interface directly with local law enforcement? And what are your protocols for threats such as burglary, graffiti, and reckless driving?" He pushed.

"No Vision," Norm started, but Vision interrupted him.

"I know these are indeed grave matters." Vision nodded.

"New business actually means another round of Danish," Norm admitted.

"Raspberry or cheese-filled?" Jones asked, pulling a box onto the table and sitting it before Vision.

"Oh, neither for me, thank you. I don't eat food." Vision said without thinking. 

Vision didn't even register what he had said until he noticed the rest of the table staring at him in confusion.

"What I mean to say is that I don't eat food in between meals but at mealtimes. I'm a regular eating machine." Vision rambled.

There were a couple nods at Vision's reasoning, and Herb even huffed out a short laugh before he leaned in close to the table.

"Hey fellas. Vision here does have a point. Now listen up because I got some top-secret intelligence for you." Herb told everyone who leaned in closer to hear.

"Oh, excellent!"

"You know how Johnson's been braggin' about that treehouse he built for his kids?"

"Yeah?"

"It's a prefab job," Herb informed everyone. The table immediately scoffed at his words and nodded along.

"That blockhead can't even hold a hammer." One mocked.

"I can do you one better." Norm bragged. "You know those bowling trophies Arthur's always polishing? He bought 'em all at a yard sale in Hackensack."

"I knew it! I've never once seen him down at the lanes." Herb shook his head.

Is this how I'm to fit in? Vision pondered. By peddling gossip and stories? Well, if it is to fit in. He decided, nodding to himself.

"I, too have, some top-secret gossip to share." Vision announced. "Norm here's a communist." He declared.

Norm froze for a second as the rest of the table turned to face him. But he didn't have to worry as everyone burst out into boisterous laughter, Norm included.

"Vision, you're a real cut up." Jones complimented.

"You know, I always thought you were kinda square," Norm told him.

"Me? No! I'm as round as they come." Vision said, causing the rest of the men to laugh once more.

"Hey, Vis, card for a stick big Red?" Herb asked, offering a stick of gum to the android.

"Well, hold on a second. Didn't you hear the man? He doesn't eat food." Norm teased as Vision held the gum between two fingers.

"Is gum food?"

"Well, my understanding is that it's purely for mastication." Vision shrugged, turning his head to Herb for began to stutter.

"Oh no, I don't do that!" Herb denied, shaking his head firmly.

"Well, when in Westview." Vision shrugged, unwrapping the gum. "Cheers." He said, raising the stick before putting it in his mouth.

"Who knew you were such a funny guy?" Norm asked.

"And to think you came here all hot and bothered about protocols and nonsense." Herb chuckled. "We actually thought you were serious," Herb said, slapping Vision on the back.

At the rough and sudden movement, Vision accidentally swallowed the gum in his mouth.

Vision could feel the wad of gum sliding down his throat and getting stuck in his internal processors.

"He's funny. All right, so, back to the barbeque." Herb directed the meeting back on topic. 

But what none of the other men noticed was Vision's growing panic at the foreign object now stuck in his internal processors.

Back at the country club, it was now only Y/N, Wanda, and Dottie. 

Wanda and Y/N had been tasked with cleaning up after the meeting while Dottie sat prissily behind them.

"And this is why you never do a seating chart on an empty stomach," Dottie commented as Wanda heaved a heavy tray of plates onto the table.

"Golly, you're a whiz at all the committee stuff, Dottie." Wanda complimented as Y/N picked up two stacks of teacups. "Thank you for choosing us to help you clean up. I feel so lucky." Wanda commented, taking one stack off Y/N's hands.

"You are." Dottie shrugged as they lugged the china onto the cart.

"I don't like her," Y/N whispered into her wife's ear once their backs were to their host. "Let's just split now."

"Not yet." Wanda denied before turning back to Dottie. "I can't help but wonder if the three of us haven't gotten off on the wrong foot, Dottie. And I'd like to, we'd like to, correct that if we can."

"And how would you do that?" Dottie asked, her face void of emotion.

Wanda didn't have an answer for Dottie as she chuckled awkwardly and glanced at her wife for an answer. But Y/N didn't have one either.

"I've heard things about you," Dottie revealed, rising to a stand. "About you, about your husband, and about your wife," Dottie said, pointing at both women.

"Well, I don't know what you've been told, but I assure you we don't mean anyone any harm," Wanda said as Y/N moved to stand beside her.

"I don't believe you," Dottie said, staring the two women down with a mean glare.

For a minute, the three women merely stared at one another. Dottie glared in distrust, Wanda looked almost scared, and Y/N was glaring at Dottie for threatening her wife, husband, and their life here.

The staring contest was interrupted by the radio crackling loudly before a man's voice came through it.

"Wanda. Wanda, can you hear? Agent Barton, do you read me?"

"Who is that?" Dottie asked, looking at the radio in fear.

"Wanda? Y/N?"

"Who are you?" Dottie gasped, now turning her fearful gaze to Wanda and Y/N.

The voice continued to call for both Wanda and Y/N. It kept repeating their names until a glass shattered.

The glass in Dottie's hand shattered, and the radio silenced.

"Dottie!" Wanda gasped, gazing at Dottie's bleeding hand in shock.

Wanda quickly took the woman's hand into her own as Y/N pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket.

"Pop quiz, Wanda," Dottie said as Y/N wrapped her hand. "How does a housewife get a bloodstain out white linen?" She asked. When neither woman gave her an answer, she answered her own question. "By doing it herself."

And with that, Dottie walked away.

"Wanda, what is going on?" Y/N demanded as Wanda glanced down at the radio. "What was that? Was that you? That couldn't have been you. Why was it calling me Agent Barton?" Y/N questioned her.

Wanda had never seen her wife really lose her cool in all their time together.

Y/N was always the level-headed one of the trio.

"Sweetheart," Wanda said, taking Y/N's face in her hands. At Wanda's touch, Y/N physically slacked in her grip. "You're exhausted," Wanda explained, running her thumb under Y/N's eye. "It's been a long day, and we didn't sleep last night. You need rest." 

"I need rest." Y/N agreed, nodding her head gently.

"We have time before the show to go home and take a nap." Wanda determined. "Maybe we can find something for your head at home or some tea? Does that sound okay?" 

"That sounds okay." Y/N nodded, smiling at her wife. "You know it's really your fault we didn't get any sleep last night." Y/N teased as she stood upright.

"Of course it was." Wanda smiled, wrapping her arm around Y/N's waist. "Let's get you home."

As the two began to walk away, Wanda couldn't stop herself from looking back and at the radio.

Just what was that?

Wanda and Y/N had gone home and taken an hour for themselves before they had to get ready for the show and bring their props down to the town square.

All of their neighbors had prepared an act. Everyone was performing.

Wanda, Y/N, and Vision were the last act on the agenda. The only problem with their performance was that they were missing a key component.

They were missing Vision.

"I'd hate to go after this guy." Geraldine giggled, staring at what was happening through the curtains while Wanda paced.

"What?" Wanda panicked. 

"Oh no, not like that. You guys are gonna be great." Geraldine assured. 

"Oh, what time is it now?" Wanda asked, beginning to pace again.

"Wanda, it's been two minutes," Y/N told the woman.

"I just don't know where he could be."

"Wanda, Vision will be here," Y/N promised, stopping her wife in her pacing by taking her hands. "He promised, and he'd never break a promise to us."

"Is that him?" Geraldine interrupted, pointing to a man stumbling up the stairs. 

Y/N and Wanda both turned to see their husband stumbling up the steps of the gazebo.

"It looks like he's got a little hitch in his giddyup," Geraldine commented, shaking her head.

"Vis?" Wanda asked, moving towards the man.

"Wanda! Wanda, my little cabbage, you look smashing!" Vision complimented before letting out a groan.

"What have you been doing?" Y/N asked, stepping next to Wanda.

"Not to worry, my little squash, me and the boys were just playing a rather thrilling game of horses with shoes." Vision said before shaking his head. "No, that's not right. Shoe horses. Horse's shoes!"

"Listen, something strange happened with Dottie," Y/N said, grabbing Vision's arms. "And before that. Something strange has been going on all day. It's hard to explain." Y/N told him.

"I was just playing with his shoes!" Vision yelled, pointing his finger at a man walking by in a horse costume.

Both Y/N and Wanda stared at their husband in confusion. He'd never acted like this before.

"What is going on?" Wanda asked a tad hysterically.

"You are!" Geraldine interrupted.

Wanda rushed to the curtains where Geraldine was peeking her head out to see Dottie giving a speech.

"I want to thank you all for coming out to support Westview Elementary, "For the Children." Dottie gushed.

"For the children." The crowd parroted back.

"The whole town's in this cult." Y/N shook her head.

"And for our final act, I give you Wanda, Y/N, and Vision," Dottie announced, politely clapping as she left the stage to sit with her husbands.

Wanda grabbed Y/N's hand and pulled the woman through the curtains.

The two smiled at the audience as they moved to their spot and, at the same time, gestured for Vision to exit.

Except Vision didn't exit. He completely missed his cue. 

"Hey! Hey you! You're up, Cowboy!" Geraldine snapped backstage at Vision.

"What?" Vision asked, struggling with a deck of cards. "Oh, shoot! I've got to go!"

Vision rushed towards the stage, and instead of exiting calmly, as they had planned, Vision burst through the curtains.

"Hello, Westview!" Vision exclaimed as Y/N and Wanda exchanged looks. "It's so lovely to be. I'm so sorry!" Vision apologized to a handrail he had bumped into. "Excuse me. I am Allure, and these are my delightful assistant's Illusion and Glamour."

"I am Glamour," Wanda interjected, raising a hand in a flourish.

"And I am Allure," Y/N added, copying Wanda's movements. "And this is the incredible,

"Illusion." The two introduced.

"Whatever they said." Vision nodded along. "Today, we will lie to you, and yet you will believe our little deceptions because human beings are easily fooled. But that's not your fault!" Vision told the audience. "It's because of human's limited understanding of the inner workings of the universe." He shrugged while his wife's once again stared at him questioningly. "Flourish!"

"You don't have to say it out loud, honey," Wanda muttered.

"You just do it. Like we practiced." Y/N added.

"Bah!" Vision waved off the advice. "And now, my wive's and I will delight in your dumbstruck little faces. Flourish!" He called before he was suddenly floating above the stage.

Wanda and Y/N froze at their husband's actions. And they weren't the only ones. 

Everyone in the audience saw what Vision was doing, and they all gasped at the sight of him floating.

What was he thinking?

Wanda's head snapped to the audience, and she noticed Dottie watching intently. 

Thinking quickly, Wanda pointed at Vision and conjured a wire for him to float from.

Y/N, noticing Wanda's actions, rushed across the stage and moved a poster board revealing the lever connected to the rope and pully.

"Ha! Do you see? He's using a rope!" Norm called from the audience.

"Wanda, what's, oh God! No! Y/N, stop her!" Vision yelled as Wanda began to pull Vision higher, to the audience's delight. "Darlings, let me down! I'm feeling pukey!"

After that line, Wanda finally lowered Vision to the ground as the audience clapped loudly.

"Thank you!" Vision smiled. "What's next? Oh, yeah, this is, this is gonna be great!" He said, moving over to the piano. "A staggering feat of strength!" He bragged, raising the piano with one hand.

The audience gasped and stared at the man in confusion.

"What do you think of that?" Vision asked the crowd.

"Illusion." Wanda gasped, struggling to think of how to fix this. "Illusion, Master of Engima, allow me." She said, wiggling her fingers subtly before rushing across the stage.

Wanda grabbed the piano out of Vision's hand, and it was replaced by a cardboard replica.

"Whoops!" Wanda gasped as she showed the audience the fake back. "You weren't supposed to see how we did that trick!" She teased, causing the audience to clap and giggle.

"That was my grandmother's piano," Jones said in the audience, watching as Wanda threw the piano to Y/N.

As the piano was removed from the stage, Vision turned his sights to the audience before excitedly exclaiming,

"Sherbert! This is my old mate Sherbert!" Vision yelled, moving towards the crowd. "Stand up, Sherbert! Say hello to the crowd!" He demanded, rushing beside the other man.

"It's Herbert. Herb." Herb clarified.

"Pipe down, Sherbie, and pick a card." Vision said, pushing the deck in Herb's direction. "Any card, now put it back in the deck." He ordered, turning his back to his neighbor. "I'm not looking. All right, watch this."

Vision halved the deck and pulled out the King of Diamonds, holding it smugly in front of Herb.

"Is this your card?"

"No." Herb shook his head.

"I beg to differ." Vision scoffed, thrusting the card towards Herb.

"It's not."

"Really?" Vision asked, cocking his head to the side. "Is this your card?" He questioned, pulling out another card.

"Vision," Y/N said from the stage, a fake smile on her face.

But Vision ignored her as he continued to pull cards from the deck.

"Is this your card? Is this your card? Is your card?" Vision kept repeating, showing cards and then throwing them to the side as Herb denied him.

"Sweetheart?" Wanda asked as cards flew everywhere.

"Is this your card?" Vision demanded, pulling out the King of Spades.

"Oh, it is," Herb said, surprised at it finally being pulled out.

"It is what?" Vision asked, staring at him in confusion. 

"It's my card." Herb smiled.

"Well, pardon me, Herb. Have it back." Vision scoffed, thrusting the card into the man's hands.

"No, that's not what I meant. You did the trick right." Herb told him as Vision stormed away.

"Well, of course, I did the trick right. I'm Illusion!" Vision exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "Flourish!" He emitted, bowing deeply.

Wanda and Y/N quickly began to clap at Vision's trick', causing the audience to join.

"And now, for my next trick," Vision began to announce.

"He's still going?" Y/N whispered to her wife, who sighed.

"Where's my hat? Who stole my hat?" Vision asked, turning to see his hat on the stage floor, Senor Scratchy hopping out of it. "Oh! Stop that rabbit!" He called as Y/N, and Wanda chased after the rabbit. "I've got to pull a hat out of you!"

"Senor Scratchy's got real star quality, don't you think?" Agnes asked anyone who would listen as Wanda caught him.

"Maybe we leave the poor bunny out of this one, shall we?" Wanda questioned, stroking the rabbit's fur gently.

"That sounds swell," Y/N said, approaching Wanda with the cage.

"Well then, I will just have to pull this hat out of myself!" Vision determined, facing the audience with a grin.

"Vision no." Wanda gasped, staring at him pleadingly.

"I'm doing it."

"Don't you dare," Y/N said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Ah-ha!" Vision cheered. Having ignored his wives pleading, Vision had gone ahead and pushed his hat through his torso.

The crowd didn't clap, and they didn't gasp. Everyone merely stared in confusion, not understanding what they just saw.

"If only we could tell you our secret." Y/N awkwardly smiled as Wanda wiggled her fingers.

The curtains opened behind the three, revealing a set of mirrors to the audience.

The assembled crowd let out sounds of recognition and began to clap, now understanding the trick.

"Is that how mirrors work?" Bev wondered a costume horse head on her lap.

"Shut up, Bev." Dottie scolded the other woman without even turning to look at her.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, for our grand finale." Vision announced as Wanda moved to get the cabinet while Y/N closed the curtains. "I bring you the Magnet of Crysteries!"

"The Cabinet of Mysteries," Wanda told the crowd, a slight snap in her tone.

Wanda was so fed up with how the day had gone that all she wanted was to get the show over with.

But she was so focused on her frustration that she never noticed, Y/N wasn't in the cabinet.

"I will now make my wife disappear!" Vision announced, opening the doors to show the crowd and shutting them before Wanda could enter.

"Are you sure you don't want an audience volunteer named "My husband Ralph?" Agnes called from the crowd.

The rest of the crowd, particularly the women, laughed at Agnes' joke.

"No. Abracadabra!" Vision cheered, tapping his wand on the cabinet door.

"Uh, Vision, sweetheart?" Wanda said from where she still stood.

"Yeah?"

"Hi." Wanda waved, causing Vision to freeze.

"Oh."

"Hiya, darlings," Y/N announced, now standing beside Vision.

"Oh." Both her partners said, now staring at her.

"What's in the box?" The crowd began to chant. "What's in the box? What's in the box?"

"What is in the box?" Vision asked, staring at his wives in confusion.

"What's in the box? What's in the box?"

Wanda pointed at the cabinet, and when she and Vision opened the doors, there stood Geraldine.

The audience all gasped at the woman's appearance before beginning to clap wildly.

"Let's bounce," Y/N said, grabbing Vision's hand and dragging him off stage with Wanda following behind.

Once away from the crowd, Vision immediately began to cry.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so stupid." Vision cried.

"Vis, it is all right," Wanda assured, putting her hands on Vision's chest.

"Vision, it's okay, everything is fine. You're not stupid." Y/N added, taking his hand in one of hers.

"But what is going on with you?" Wanda demanded of him.

"I have no idea!" Vision cried. "I've been feeling weirdy all day!"

"It's okay. We can solve this," Y/N told him soothingly.

Wanda stepped back and raised her hand towards him. She began to scan through Vision's systems and stopped in the middle of his torso. 

Vision let out a groan at the sensation as Wanda's eyes widened.

Wanda worked her magic and forced the gum out of Vision's systems.

The gum forced itself up Vision's throat and out of his mouth.

"Disgusting," Y/N said, cringing at the scene.

"Well, would you look at that? That really gummed up the works, didn't it?" Vision joked, the gum that had caused so many problems between his fingers. "I'm not as funny without it, am I?" He asked when neither of his wives responded.

"Oh, honey, no," Y/N said, squeezing his hand. "You weren't funny with it either." She teased.

"Well, you're back to yourself." Wanda sighed, relieved.

"And that's all we really need," Y/N promised, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"Now, let's get out of here before Dottie, and the planning committee, string us up for ruining the show," Wanda said to the two.

"Don't joke. The cult might actually do that." Y/N commented.

"I'm sorry, what cult?" Vision asked, looking quite concerned.

"I'll explain later," Y/N promised as the three reached the edge of the curtains.

The three tried to inconspicuously sneak away from the show but were stopped with a cry.

"You three, stop right there!"

"Oh, we're dead." Y/N cringed as the three began to turn around with grimaces adorning their faces. 

"Nothing, like what the three of you just did up there, has ever happened in the history of our talent show," Dottie told the three.

"Dottie, we are so,"

"Hilarious." Dottie cut Wanda off. "That was the most hilarious act we've ever seen. Wouldn't you agree?" Dottie asked the crowd, who applauded in agreeance.

Wanda let out a relieved chuckle while Y/N grinned victoriously.

"Oh, yes, of course!" Vision exclaimed, playing along as if everything that had just happened was intentional.

"You three, come on up. Come on." Dottie ordered. 

The married three all looked at one another before agreeing it was safe to move on stage.

"On behalf of the planning committee, I would like to award you with the inaugural Comedy Performance of the year," Dottie announced, handing Wanda the trophy.

The audience rose to their feet and began to cheer for the three.

Wanda, Y/N, and Vision all giddily grinned as Wanda raised the trophy, and they indulged in their moment.

Wanda heard clapping from the stage side and turned her head to see Geraldine clapping happily.

Y/N, noticing where Wanda was looking, also turned to Geraldine and began to gesture her over.

"Come on." Wanda mouthed as the other woman hesitated.

With a bit more encouraging, and Vision pulling her over, Geraldine finally moved to stand with the three, a smile on her face.

"I do have to ask," Geraldine whispered, turning her head to Vision. "One second I'm backstage, and the next, I'm in a dark cubby hole." She said as the four bowed. "How'd you do it?"

"Oh, a magician never reveals his secrets." Vision said sagely. "He leaves that to his assistants.

"And she's not talking," Y/N told the curious woman.

"Nope. Neither of them are." Wanda added with a sly smile.

"Why did I have a feeling you'd say that?" Geraldine asked with a giggle.

"For the children!" Norm called from the crowd.

"For the children!" The rest of the crowd repeated.

"It's still culty," Y/N whispered in her wife's ear.

The three were in a joyful mood as they walked home. Despite the show not going the way they had wanted it to, everything had turned out okay.

They had fit in with their neighbors, entertained their friends, and no-one was any the wiser about their secrets.

"When did you learn to salsa dance?" Wanda laughed, watching as Y/N and Vision danced down the street.

"I don't remember when I learned to, I just know it was at night, and I read many books on the subject." Vision said as he twirled Y/N out.

"Of course you." Y/N laughed before she took over the dominant role and began to lead. She then spun Vision towards Wanda.

The three continued to dance into their home, their costumes and other items balanced in skilled hands.

"You were tremendous, Glamour." Vision complimented, opening the door as Wanda dramatically fell into his arms.

"As were you, Illusion," Wanda said, grinning up at the man.

"Despite the circumstances." Y/N smiled, entering behind the two. Wanda had moved out of Vision's arms to put the trophy away, allowing Vision to wrap both arms around Y/N's waist.

"Why, thank you, Allure." Vision said, smiling down at his wife. Y/N returned the smile before leaning up to kiss the man.

"I don't know what I was so worried about." Wanda sighed, taking her seat on the couch. "It wasn't so hard to fit in at all." 

"And all we had to do was be ourselves." Vision agreed, sitting to her right.

"At least the public version," Y/N smirked, sitting on Wanda's other side.

"And it was all for the children."

"For the children."

"For the children."

"Well, I think the children might need some popcorn," Wanda commented.

"And some coffee," Y/N added as she and Wanda rose to their feet.

"Wanda. Y/N." Vision said, stopping the two of them in their tracks.

"Hmm, what?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" 

As Vision rose from the couch, his gaze remained focused on their stomachs, causing the two to finally look down.

"Oh shoot." Y/N gasped, noting hers and Wanda's matching bellies. 

"Is this really happening?" Wanda asked, a hand on her engorged stomach and her other on Y/N's.

"Yes, my love." Vision smiled, leaning down to kiss Wanda gently as if she would break if he applied too much pressure.

"We're gonna have a family." Y/N smiled, pressing her fingertips onto Wanda's stomach as her husband and wife pulled apart.

"We are, my dove." Vision nodded, grin still attached to his face, before leaning down and kissing Y/N with the same gentleness.

"We're pregnant." Wanda grinned, her eyes slightly glassy before she pulled Y/N into a kiss. Hers more firm than the one's Vision had done.

As Wanda kissed Y/N, there was a loud banging outside, causing the three to jump.

"If that's that damn tree again, I'm going to rip it out by the roots." Vision snapped, storming towards the door.

"Don't touch my tree, Vis!" Y/N exclaimed as she and Wanda followed after Vision.

"I don't see anything," Wanda said as the three searched the yard for the noise.

"What is that?" Vision asked, standing at the gate. Y/N and Wanda moved to see what he was looking at and saw a storm drain cover moving.

As something began to climb out, Vision moved forward and wrapped his arms around his wives protectively.

A man in a beekeeper's costume emerged, a swarm of bees surrounding him.

"No," Wanda whispered as the man's head snapped towards the three.

"We're pregnant." Wanda grinned, her eyes slightly glassy before she pulled Y/N into a kiss. Hers more firm than the one's Vision had done.

When the two pulled apart, it was as if their world was suddenly all the more vibrant. 

Their home was bright, and the three were glowing. 

"Everything's changing," Y/N said, looking at her partners with a grin.

"It is." Vision agreed, pulling the two women into his embrace.

"All for the better," Wanda told the two.

And it was. 

Taglist will be open throughout the series.  

@x-uglyprincess-x @imthedoctorlove @loveinnoya @unknownalien3388 @bindythedemon @summersimmerus @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @natasharomanoffismywife @mcsteamy4ever @monxpeet @amywinehouseisgod @milleniumloki @buckybarnesplumwhore @kennedywxlsh @drpepperobsessed @madamevirgo @superbsccissorsdeanexpert @itty-bitty-witch @essenceproxima @severusminerva @okkulta @mrscasnovak @niki-is-a-thing

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #vision x reader #vision x wanda #wandavision #avengers x reader #scarlet witch x reader

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

When We Were Young Part Eight

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader Rating: T Notes: Not beta-read. I hope everyone’s having a good week! I hope everyone’s had a good week and is doing well :) Thank you for all of the likes/reblogs/replies 🥰 Warnings: Some fluff; some angst. Summary: Your mother was deathly afraid that you would come through this season without a proposal; you had never been more afraid that you would receive one.

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” You accused Sherlock as he captured one of your rooks. “I disagree. I believe I’m enjoying it exactly the right amount.” You rolled your eyes openly, careful not to let your smile widen as he chuckled. “It is your turn, dove,” He added. Your eyes darted to Cornelius, whom you saw shift in his seat at the use of the pet name. He had been steadfast in his chaperoning of yourself and Sherlock whenever the detective made it a point to stop by, as he had nearly every day for the last three weeks. You were unsure if Dawson had caught wind of your other… Visitor (Sherlock wasn’t a suitor, he wasn’t courting you, surely. You refused to put too much stock in the books and flowers that he brought; even if the books were on topics that you loved; even if Mrs. Lloyd insisted that carnations stood for fascination, and small sunflowers meant adoration, and kennedias signified mental beauty, and Peruvian heliotrope were for devotion, and mossy saxifrage represented affection).

You looked down at the board. “Aren’t you always the one counseling me not to rush into my next move?” “I suppose I am,” Sherlock mused. “Then perhaps you only pointed out that it was my turn to distract me from the bigger picture.” “Do you really think that I would do something like that?” “I think that that is exactly what you would do,” You looked up at Sherlock from under your lashes, and this time, you couldn’t help but share his smile. You reached out, your fingers settling on your bishop. Sherlock made a soft sound in his throat. “Shush,” You ordered. “You’re certain?” Sherlock asked. “It’s not going to work this time, Holmes,” You insisted, moving the piece before sitting up straight. Sherlock cocked his head to the side; the movement put you in mind of a small, confused puppy. “What’s not going to work?” His tone was woven with innocence, but you knew better. This was the third game that you’d played with him that afternoon, and he’d managed to make you second-guess yourself during the last two. “You know what. Now take your turn.” You watched as he clasped his hands under his chin, resting his chin and lips against his knuckles as he surveyed the board. In his concentration, you let your eyes wander his face. He tended to get this furrow between his brow when he was thinking; now and again, his eyes would narrow, but only a touch and just for a second. You heard him push a short huff out through his nose before he hummed thoughtfully. You didn’t follow his gaze back to the board. Instead, you continued to watch him unabashedly as you asked, “What now?” Sherlock’s eyes flitted to yours, and you felt a shock of warmth spread through you. He held your gaze with such intensity that you almost missed his moving his queen and murmuring, “Checkmate.” You looked down at the board before you leaned back in your seat, groaning in frustration. “You did far better this time than last,” Sherlock said, sitting up. You could tell that he wasn’t teasing you, and you hummed. “I didn’t beat you, though.” “You will, dove. Just not today.” You raised a brow. “No time for one more?” “I’m afraid I have to meet with Lestrade in,” Sherlock reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out his pocket watch, “Nearly half an hour.” “Ah,” You nodded, “New case?” “Yes, though from what details he told me, I’m hoping for a speedy resolution.” Your brows rose. “That sounds rather unlike you. I thought you preferred the cases that were more difficult to unpick.” “I do, but I have...Other things occupying my mind at present.” Beautifully vague; classic Sherlock. “Things regarding Enola?” You asked. He hesitated in answering before he settled on, “Some.” You stood when Sherlock did, and you cleared your throat, signalling his departure to your Uncle Cornelius. You heard him folding his paper. “I’ll be stopping by to see her tomorrow,” You added, clasping your hands, “She told me that she’d be quite occupied with Edith at the tea rooms, else, and-- and I will have to leave town at the end of this week.” Sherlock cut you a look, briefly sharp, then stunned. “This week?” He asked, frowning. “Yes.” You’d been planning on telling Sherlock at some point during his last few visits, but the two of you just seemed to get so caught up-- with conversation, or chess, or cards. “I’m afraid her mother has been quite miserable without her,” Cornelius added, rounding his armchair. You glanced at him. He knew as well as you that that was a lie; she had been irate with your departure, and only grew more and more frustrated when you’d stalled in town. She’d only allowed it for as long as she had because Cornelius had reported to her that Dawson was visiting you with some frequency. It was unlikely that he would make a trip out to see you at your home. Your mother was deathly afraid that you would come through this season without a proposal; you had never been more afraid that you would receive one. You could see on Sherlock’s face that he didn’t buy the reason for a moment, but he gave a stiff nod, murmuring, “Of course,” before he turned to look at you. “I will do my best to see you at least once more before you leave London.” “I would like that,” You said; your heart twinged with how much you meant it. -- Enola tended to get caught up in things; you knew that about her. That was why, when you arrived at Baker Street the following day, you found her not at home. Mrs. Hudson apologized profusely, offering to let you wait in the sitting room for her. You accepted, and in solitude, you took your chance to look around. It was a cozy room. Sherlock and Enola seemed to each have their own corners: Sherlock’s was by the fireplace, beside a bookshelf; Enola’s was by the window, with a desk that was stocked with books and drawing pencils. You chuckled at the caricature of Mycroft that you’d last seen at Ferndell pinned to the wall beside the window. You ran your fingers over the back of Enola’s chair before you turned, drifting toward Sherlock’s armchair. He had a reading table beside it; there was a wooden box with a pipe engraved on it, and a stack of books. There were a few pieces of paper sticking out of the books here and there, and you could just make out Sherlock’s handwriting. You glanced toward the door, holding your breath for a moment. When you were sure that you couldn’t hear anyone coming, you picked up one, scanning the title on the spine: On the Origin of Species. Your brows rose before you reached for the one under it. It was a plain-covered book, unassuming. You hummed, curious, and set the first book aside in favor of flipping through the second. You smiled a little when you saw sketches. You knew that that was one thing that Sherlock and Enola both held a love for. As you flipped through, you recognized Ferndell; there were a few pressed flowers with their sketches, meanings, and uses jotted down besides; you snorted when you spotted a caricature of Dawson. It depicted him with rather a large head and very small, beady eyes; his coat had money bursting out of the pockets, and he was leaning heavily on a dandy’s cane. Had Sherlock given your suitor gout? It certainly looked that way. You turned the next page and then froze, your breath catching in your throat. It was… Well, it was you. Sherlock had sketched you in profile. Your eyes were downcast, your lips drawn up in a smile; there was shading around your cheeks, making it look as though you were blushing. He’d made you look so soft, so...Gentle, but somehow mischievous. Was this how he saw you? Sitting on the page beside it was a flower petal - white, pressed, but still soft. It looked familiar, but you couldn’t place it at first. You trailed your finger over it, frowning, before you realized that you had last seen it at the dinner party: your gardenia. You heard the door slam shut downstairs, and the thunder of footsteps, and you hurried to shut the notebook and set it down on the stack, replacing the other book on top of it before you hurried over to the window. You turned to see Enola burst into the room, grinning. “I’m sorry, I got caught up,” She apologized as she shrugged out of her coat. You smiled, chuckling, “It’s quite alright.” “Would you like some tea?” Enola asked, but she was already heading for the kitchen. You followed close behind, answering, “Certainly.” As the two of you settled back in the sitting room with your tea, you couldn’t stop your gaze from straying to Sherlock’s reading table now and again. Enola was sharp, you knew that; you didn’t know why you thought you were being sneaky. “He’s working on a case,” She informed you after she caught you looking for the fifth time that afternoon. You nodded a little. “Yes, he mentioned. He thought it would move along quite swiftly.” “Maybe it is. He was out all last night, and when I awoke this morning, Mrs. Hudson said that he hadn’t been in yet.” You frowned at that. “Does that happen often?” You asked. “Occasionally,” Enola shrugged, “But I don’t mind.” You smiled, then, trying to reassure yourself; you knew that she didn’t, but you couldn’t help but wonder where he was and what he was up to. “...Enola.” “Hm?” “You haven’t happened to see an odd glove around here that isn’t yours, have you?” -- Your visit with Enola ran late, as it always did. You heard the clock chime five and you frowned; you were going to be late for dinner. “I should be on my way,” You sighed softly. Enola opened her mouth to reply, but it was cut off by the thudding of footsteps coming up the stairs. There was a pause before you saw Sherlock sweep through the living room. He didn’t acknowledge either of you; you could see his shoulders hunched forward, his jaw tight with irritation. You watched as he opened his bedroom door, then flinched when it slammed shut behind him. “...And now we know how the case is going,” You muttered sarcastically. Enola wrinkled her nose as you straightened from your chair. You exchanged your goodbyes, and you were headed for the front door before you stopped yourself, glancing back toward Sherlock’s door. Enola had had no leads; there was still time to get your glove back. “Just-- I’ll be a moment,” You said. Enola arched a knowing brow before she nodded, stepping into her own room and shutting the door. You frowned a little bit. What on earth had that look been for? And why had she retreated to her bedroom? You shook the thought away as you walked over to Sherlock’s door, leaning in the doorway. You raised your hand, rapping your knuckles lightly on it twice. You heard a gruff call of, “What?” and you bit your lip. Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea. “What is it--” Came an additional yell, and you hurried to answer, “It’s me.” There was a pause, and you straightened up as you heard Sherlock’s footsteps approaching the door. He opened it, and you were briefly taken aback. You’d never seen the man look so...Disheveled. His curls were mussed, as if he’d been taking his hand through them; he’d removed his jacket and tie, and opened the top two buttons of his shirt; his sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows. You couldn’t help the way your eyes wandered his form before you met his gaze again. “I’m sorry, I-- Didn’t mean to disturb you.” “You haven’t,” Sherlock insisted, “I apologize, I didn’t realize that you were still here.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and peered into the sitting room, searching for Enola, before he looked back to you. “When does your train leave?” “Friday morning. The 10:30.” “Perhaps I’ll see you at the station.” That took you aback, and you were able to deduce a few things from it. “...I take it the case is proving a little more difficult than expected?” Sherlock pushed a heavy sigh out through his nose, leaning against the door frame as he hung his head; it more than confirmed your suspicions. “I’m sorry,” You added softly. He raised a hand, rubbing over the back of his neck. “It is nothing I haven’t dealt with before, but...I fear I may not be able to come and see you again before you leave.” You felt disappointment fill you, but you pushed it away, shielding it with a smile. “It’s alright, I understand,” You insisted, “I was glad to have your company while I was in town.” “And I, yours, love,” Sherlock murmured. Your heart soared at the words; you blinked at Sherlock a couple of times, certain that you’d imagined it. “Pardon?” You asked. Sherlock’s brow furrowed. “I-- I said I was glad to have yours, too, dove.” That feeling of elation plummeted as quickly as it had swelled, your heart dropping like a kite that had lost the wind. You’d simply misheard him. You lowered your eyes, nodding. “Of course. I should be on my way. Cornelius is expecting me.” “Let me hail you a hansom--” “No!” You rushed to stop him. Sherlock looked stricken; you felt bile rise in your throat, and you hurried to cover this with another smile. “I can manage it myself. Good luck with your case, Mr. Holmes.” You hurried out of Baker Street as quickly as you could, your glove completely forgotten. Tag list: @run-through-wa11s; @thefallenbibliophilequote ; @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem ; @maan24 ; @awkward-walking-potato ; @madalore ; @alexa-lightwood-blog ; @chelseaxaz ; @marwritesgood ; @runawayolives ; @parkerismybaby ; @magicstrengthandcourage ; @shesthelastjedi ; @wolfiepirate ; @xremember-me-notx ; @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 ; @alagaesian-bookdragon ; @libbymouse ; @truthdaze  ;  @crispysublimecupcake  ; @cavillhavoc ; @juliesland ; @lyannamartell23 ; @seeking-a-great--perhaps​  ; @anxiousgoldengirl​ ; @gooddaykate-reads ; @rn7rocks ; @remember-happy-things​ ; @angels-pie​

#When We Were Young #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #Sherlock Holmes x You #Sherlock Holmes Imagine #Sherlock Holmes Henry Cavill #Sherlock Holmes/Reader #Sherlock Holmes/You

[vanillann]

this is how you fall in love (g.w.)

“i had a nightmare but now that i’m not scared”

based off “this is how you fall in love” by chelsea cutler and jeremy zucker

warning: mention of death and nightmares

word count: 1.3k

It was all so incredibly loud, the yelling and the crashing against his mother’s arms. Freddie laid out on the stretcher with ghostly pale skin and dirt over his brow, his normal smile replace by the ghost of a smile.

Ghost.

George could only hope Fred would be a happy ghost as he held his body to his chest, he didn’t deserve to spend the afterlife in pain. Freddie never deserved pain, someone that gentle always got the short end of the stick.

Ron collapsed across from him, his body shaking as he brushes ginger hair from his eye. George had been crying so hard he couldn’t even feel the tears as they stretch the length of his face.

Freddie was dead.

He hadn't been out of Hogwarts but a year or so, yet he was on the floor of the very Great Hall the two would scream jokes at the top of their lungs. They grew up in these halls, yet he was lifeless all the same.

The room was caving in, the roof falling in as everyone ran screaming from the madness. George didn’t move, he couldn’t. He wanted to join Freddie, he didn’t want to be in a world that let young boys die for another young boy, where war was a normal Sunday afternoon.

“George.”

Freddie was calling him, he was going to see Freddie.

“George!”

The voice was panic, yelling for him to move. Did Freddie not want to see him?

“George!”

His body jolted from the pillow, his body clammy against the rough sheets of the Queen size bed. The finger on his shoulder was cool over his skin, calming his racing heart. He glanced around the room, the ceiling was perfectly intact and the dresser across from him told him he wasn’t in the Great Hall.

“Sweets?”

George jumped, whipping around to find his lover’s worried face inches from his own. Their lips in a delicate frown as their finger drew constellations over his freckles.

It was all a sick twisted dream. Fred died four years ago, he was long gone from the Burrow and the joke shop.

“Do you want something to drink?”

He couldn’t explain the release he felt hearing their voice, as if they pulled the nasty roots from his soil in order to plant the prettiest tulips. As if just their voice could ground him back to the world.

“Maybe,” his voice was hoarse, “some tea?”

They rushed from bed, their finger leaving a warmth against his skin as they hurried from the room. They didn’t bother putting on a robe in the freezing house in the late hours of a December night. George was the only thing on their mind.

He slowly eased from the bed, slipping out onto the carpet on the floor. His slippers would’ve only made his feet sweat, he was still coming down from the cold sweats, but he grabs the blue robe flung over the chair. Draping it over his arm, slowly making his way down the narrow hall of the house.

The pictures hung on the wall bought a small smile to his face, his mother and his lover holding one another and Percy with the twins before they ever entered Hogwarts. The wall on the right was dedicated to pictures of Fred, ones of (Y/N) and Fred from the Great Hall, and family pictures at the Burrow. George wished he took more pictures, he never liked how he looked enough, but he wished he would’ve just to have a small piece of Fred still with him.

His feet slide across the hardwood floor, easily finding (Y/N) rushing around the kitchen in the bright kitchen light. They glide around the room like a ballroom, their feet jumping over every loose board and missing each corner by an inch. They were used to the quirks of the kitchen they had lived in so long. They fit right in with the soft yellow walls and the green high stools as if the moment was out of a film the muggle would give awards too.

“You should’ve stayed in bed,” George was bought back, watching as they pour some tea into the mug.

“I hated the way the sheets felt on my legs,” he walked through the threshold, leaning on the small kitchen island while studying their face. Their lip held between their teeth and their eyebrows so focused on the milk mixture with the golden liquid.

“I’ll change ‘em, put the silks on,” they slide the tea across the island, trying to move around the change the sheets in the hurry. George stuck his arm out, grabbing their bicep before they could make it to the living room.

“Please don’t leave.”

Their body was beside his in a second, their finger tracing on his shoulder again, as if they weren’t running from the room seconds ago. He never thought people were meant to be fixed, no it never made sense, but he couldn’t help but feel grounded just by their touch alone.

“You always make it better,” his voice was barely above a whisper as he took a small sip from his cup. Perfect, just like he would’ve made it himself.

“I’m just here for you,” their breath fanning over his back, the sticky sweat running from the sweet breath of his lover.

“How do you do it so easily? How do you make it better?”

George never thought anyone would comfort him like Freddie, they were twins. You couldn’t match their bond, and while they didn’t, (Y/N) always could touch him on a different level. Of course, they could really touch him, like their finger on his skin or the kisses on his neck, but the grip they had on his heart was like a headlock.

“Love,” they answer would’ve made George laugh at any other time, telling them they watch too much Disney, but he couldn’t help but wonder.

“You think?”

“I know, falling in love can make things better when done right,” their chin rested on his back. He felt so at home like the nightmare was thought away in a far-off land.

“How do you do that? Falling in love?”

George knew he loved (Y/N), they’ve been saying it and showing it for years, but he never quite remember how it happened. He couldn’t recall a moment in time where he came to the conclusion, he just remembered saying it one day and saying it every day after that.

“This,” their words were confident, “this is how you fall in love.”

Maybe that’s why he couldn’t pinpoint it because there wasn’t a moment where it wasn’t like this. They always held him and made his tea perfect, never pushing to talk about anything. He always wondered about the world and they always seemed to have an answer, even when they didn’t. It had always been like this for the two, it was always like this between them. They had been slowly falling in love before every poet and writer’s very eyes, but at this moment as their finger traced stars on his back and the heat from the tea fanned over his chin, he knew his love was always this deep.

“I love you,” his arm wrapped around their shoulder, bringing them against his chest.

“I love you,” their eyelashes brushed against his pale skin, making his heart rate spike out of pure enjoyment of the domestic life before him.

He knew Freddie would be watching him, a proud smile on his face as he held on to his rock. He knew Freddie would want someone like (Y/N) to take care of him if he couldn’t do it himself.

He knew Freddie could feel the love he felt even from the afterlife.

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[miraculouswolf99]

The Language of Flowers

I love Chloe Salt and while this is not the most action-packed of one-shots, I hope you all appreciate the effort that I did to research each and every meaning of the flowers.

*****

Lyon and Vallia Garden.

The first, a teen that would be described as having a heart of ice and a gaze that could freeze you solid. His twin sister, on the other hand, was pretty much said to be a flower garden made human with tree sap instead of blood.

Yet the two stuck to each other as if they were one of those pairs of conjoined twins. The two were opposites in personality, style, and even how they talk. But even then, they were as close as a brother and sister could be.

Nobody in Ms.Bustier's really had any idea about the two foreign students in their class. Of course, they knew that it was part of a program for students of different countries to experience other cultures. But it was almost like having two ghosts in class. They would come and go each day, silent as ever, and it was like they were never there at all.

There wasn't really much of a problem with them, especially since the first day they were there was pretty much the only time they had ever spoken. But they spoke only to give the class brat, Chloe, a good tongue lashing that they all thought she deserved when she tried to make the two as submissive to her as Sabrina. But since then, the two were so silent that most people that were not in the classroom thought that they were mute.

"They two of them are such a mystery," Nino says, a lot of the class hanging out in the classroom during a break since an akuma attack was recently stopped.

The twins were not in the room for reasons no one else knew.

"A mystery wrapped in an enigma and stuffed into a riddle," Alya added, the reporter in her really frustrated.

"They are not as bad as you guys think," Adrien tells them, a bit tired after his fight as Cat Noir.

"How can you be so sure," Alix crosses her arms. "They don't talk to anyone but each other and never in a language we understand."

"I've seen Lyon at his archery practice sometimes when Kagami and I are at fencing," Adrien says. "He probably just has high expectations expected of him like Kagami and me."

"It is probably the same for Vallia, as well, then," Marinette agreed.

"They could, at least, make an effort with us," Kim said.

"My calculations say that there is a less than five percent chance that the two will speak with any of us," Max says.

"They need to learn their places," Chloe sneered. "Bowing at my feet."

"Why are you even here, Chloe," Alya put her hands on her hips. "Everything that ever comes out of your mouth is about as trashy as that dumpster akuma last week."

It had been a garbage man that was having a bad day. Apparently, his daughter was sick, his partner in the truck would not stop singing opera, and then one grosser bags he was trying to put in the truck ripped open. All that combined made him a prime target for Hawkmoth. Luckily, Ladybug, Cat Noir, White Wolf, and Beautifly managed to stop him from turning Paris into one giant landfill. Which, ironically, was his villain name. Landfill.

"My father will hear about..." Chloe tried.

"Shut up, Chloe," Marinette yelled. "Maybe the reason they don't talk to us is that they think we are all just as under your pathetic thumb as Sabrina."

"I'd rather be turned back into Timebreaker than be her minion," Alix stated.

"Adrikins, you going to let them talk to me like that," Chloe tried to whine.

For once, Adrien didn't even try to defend her. He turned away from her, shaking his head. To say that the young model was sick of her never-changing attitude would be the understatement of the century. He did a lot of thinking after the Despair Bear incident. Chloe would never change how she was. She has gotten away with it for too long to ever even want to change. She especially didn't change after being turned into Queen Wasp not too long ago.

"They've only been here for a little over two weeks," Marinette reminded them. "Maybe they just need more time to adjust."

"Having friends would help them adjust, girl," Alya put her hand on her best friend's shoulder.

"There is an 86.5 percent chance of them adjusting better with friends by their side," Max said, Markov floating by his head.

The class would have talked more, but they heard the sounds of two people chattering away in a foreign language coming toward the classroom. And since Lila was still MIA since her first day in class, that meant that it had to be the twins. Everyone quickly scrambled to get into their seats and not look like they had a class meeting without the entire class.

When Lyon and Vallia walked in, the silence that had fallen over the classroom seemed to be a lot worse than being caught in a class meeting. But the Greek twins simply walked to their seats in the back and sat down for class to start up again.

"Vríkate ta sostá louloúdia," Lyon whispered to his sister. Translated: Did you find the right flowers.

"Me píre lígo, allá to ékana," Vallia whispered back. Translated: Took me a while, but I did.

The two silently had smirks on their faces.

*****

The next day, the class was unbelievably shocked by what they saw when they walked into the classroom. There were bunches of flowers on all of their desks. A different flower was on each of them. No two desks had the same flower. Except that Ms.Bustier's desk seemed to have a flower bunch with one of each blossom in it.

"Geia," the Greek twins greeted them, standing at the front of the classroom.

Most of the class was too shocked by the flowers to notice that the two of them had actually talked to them.

"Was there some type of flower akuma and we didn't know about it," Alya looked disappointed that she might have missed an akuma attack for her blog.

"Pardon," Lyon crossed his arms.

The class suddenly realized that the twins were talking to them. The two of them were also each holding a few roses in their hands.

"Are you two actually talking to us," Alix asked.

"Eínai tóso dýskolo na eísai oraía," Lyon says to his sister. Translation: They make it so hard to be nice.

"Páre, aderfí," Vallia responded. Translation: Behave, brother.

"Class, sit down," Ms.Bustier instructed. "Lyon and Vallia have some things that they have collecting in order to share with us."

"Flowers," Max asked, confused.

"We basically grew up surrounded by nature," Vallia says. "Plants can be a language all on their own. You just have to know how to use them."

Lyon took a small sniff of the roses he was holding.

"Take roses, for example," he said. "They perfectly describe us. Roses are said to represent people that are quiet and traditional. Quite fitting for the two of us, isn't it."

The class all sat down in their respected seats. Adrien and Marinette were probably the most interested ones of the class, even if they were all curious. Except for Chloe, of course.

"We spent these last couple of weeks getting to know you guys from a distance," Vallia explained. "It is one of our family traditions to give flowers to someone when they enter the family. By marriage or birth."

"We decided to take that tradition and make a classroom version of it," Lyon says. "Each of you has been given flowers that match your personalities. It took us a while to find the right ones and get them here. Luckily, we have a very wide range of flora at our family sanctuary."

"You spent over two weeks getting us flowers," Alix raised her eyebrow.

"Can there really be a flower for each of us," Mylene wondered out loud.

"You have them all in front of you," Lyon looked a little annoyed.

Vallia did have to admit that she was a tab annoyed as well. While they did not know just how much nature meant to them as a part of their lives, the doubt was still annoying.

"We figured this would show that we are more than two foreigners that like to keep to themselves," Vallia says.

"Keep in mind that I still like to keep to myself most of the time," Lyon said, Vallia knowing how much her brother likes the quiet.

"So, what do these flowers mean," Adrien asks.

To his surprise, neither of the twins pulled out a list or anything that could help them remember all the information. They must really know their stuff.

"We can start with Mylene," Vallia says, the small girl blushing. "We gave her peony flowers. They represent those that are kind and also like small gestures."

Ivan was particularly shocked by that. He had only gotten together with Mylene because she read his song as a poem after his second time being akumatized as Stone Heart. She was not up for the big-time rock and roll version he wrote it as, and just liked it as a simple poem or soft song.

"Ivan's was simpler to find," Lyon said. "The carnation flower has always been used to describe down-to-earth people. Ones that are very grounded."

The other members of Kitty Section looked at Ivan, knowing how that was very true. Ivan had always been the first to calm down any fame that might go to their heads after the Captain Hardrock incident and their performance. Well, after Luka that is. Juleka's brother was basically a saint when it came to being cool, calm, and collected.

"We chose poppies for Alix," Vallia explained the red flowers in front of the skater. "The traits that they represent are those that are creative and bold."

That was definitely Alix to a "T." Her art was a mix of both since she did spraypaint street art. And her natural athletic abilities did make her do some pretty bold things.

"Max and Kim, I thought, were the easiest to match," Lyon said. "Max has the aster flower, which represents those that are smart and devoted. Kim has hydrangeas, for those that are athletic and team players."

The class was starting to see just how much the two had worked on their "project."

"I, personally, liked to say that I enjoyed finding flowers for Rose and Juleka," Vallia smiled. "Mostly because I am holding one of their names."

That got a giggle out of the pink-dressed blond and an eye roll from Lyon.

"Get on with it, Vallia," Lyon says. "We still have actual classes to attend, sister."

The class had to hide groans, especially since Bustier was in the room and they did not want to insult her by accident.

"Fine," Vallia sighed. "I thought that tulips matched Rose because they are for the bright and cheerful. Juleka's are also my personal favorite flower, the lily. They are for ones that are quiet but also inspirational to others."

Juleka tried to hide her face in her hands, knowing that she was blushing. Rose was over the moon, for herself and her best friend. If there was any flower that was spot on for anyone in the class, it would be the one that Rose got.

"Nathaniel and Adrien ended up having the flowers that tie as my favorite," Lyon admitted. "I chose the iris for Nathaniel because it is a flower for daydreamers and the imaginative. Orchids are Adrien's because they represent those that are sophisticated, refined, but have good hearts."

Both mentioned boys blushed. While Adrien did have more friends than Nath, both of them were naturally quiet and not used to such praise. Yes, Adrien is a model, but it be a miracle to hear any sort of praise from his father. And Nath was only just starting to come out of his shell thanks to Marinette.

"Sabrina was a tad bit more difficult to match," Vallia almost did not want to admit. "But when you learn about who she is, she is optimistic and also tends to be a morning person. Those are the traits of the daisy."

Sabrina was shocked, as were most of the class. As usual, Chloe didn't care. She had been sneering at the flowers in front of her since she had sat down. Sabrina was internally jumping up and down in excitement. No one had ever tried to get to know her, especially after she became friends with Chloe.

"Alya is a very modern person while Nino also very much in the tech universe, so they were also a little difficult to translate to our olden tradition," Lyon says. "But we did think that Alya best matched with the daffodil. It represents those that are very social and also love friends and family. Nino's flower is the sunflower, a blossom for the warm and those that tend to be very happy-go-lucky."

Both of those descriptions perfectly matched the two. Alya was probably the most social person in the entire school. She had to be to run Paris's most popular blog.

"I thought that Marinette's was very much telling about who she is," Vallia says, Marinette a little embarrassed. "The calla lily is for hardworking people, but also represents people that can be said to be quite rare as well."

Marinette was now bright red as she hid her face in her arms, Alya patting her back. But you could see the look on the blogger's face that she was enjoying someone telling Marinette how special she was. The girl was too humble for her own good.

"And last, Chloe," Lyon did not look happy about it being his turn to talk when it came time to tell the brat about her flower.

"Saving the best for last," the blond ruined the nice moment the twins had created. "About time you two start giving me the respect I deserve."

That was when Lyon got the most ice-cold look on his face that the class had ever seen. Rose even shivered a little bit, as if she was actually cold from the look he gave the brat.

Adrien remembered seeing him give that look only once more. It was last week when he was at a photoshoot after school. Lyon and Vallia had been in the same park as the shoot and had heard the photographer becoming rather aggressive with him. After a few words about acting like a model should and not a teenage boy, Lyon got in the photographer's face and gave him that very look. He had not said one word, but that look was enough to make the man weak in the knees. He had not spoken to Adrien again the entire shoot and a different photographer was assigned to him soon after that day.

"Alright, here is what your flower says about you," Lyon's voice could freeze the Atlantic. "The gardenia flower represents those that like living in a life of luxury. Those that like the lifestyle of the one percent..."

Chloe seemed to be happy with that, but Lyon almost smugly popped her bubble.

"Basically, it's the flower for spoiled brats that need to get taught the meaning of the word 'no," he finished.

#ml salt #chloe salt #i hate chloe #original character #miraculous fandom #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #class sugar