Aconcoctionofobsessions - Elusive

Prompt Fluff: “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?” - Ram x Sita - High School AU

!!!! this was so fun!!! short and sweet lol (sorry!) but thank u so much for the prompt hope u like it!! 

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“Are you flirting with me?” 

Sita looks up from the book she’s pretending to read, sitting across from Rama as she always has when he chooses to study in the library during their shared lunch period. Her foot rests against his sock-covered ankle, as it has the last twelve times they have been here. Rama, hair slightly ruffled after nearly half a day of class, tie slightly undone under his vest and school blazer on the table to discourage others from joining them, is staring at Sita as if for the first time. 

It isn’t scandal, Sita decides after a minute of observing his expression, nor is it disgust. Just surprise. 

So: “Yes,” she says, shrugging, “I am. You finally noticed?” 

His eyes widen. “Finally? Has...” Rama swallows. “Was this not the first time?” 

Sita would laugh if she didn't know that the Head Librarian was just waiting for an excuse to finally toss her out, Sita’s study partner being the son of a major school donor notwithstanding. She smiles. “It’s been a few months,” she admits, trying to be kind. It wasn’t like she hadn’t known that he would be obtuse after so many years of watching him accidentally reject the offers of other girls, not even realizing he was doing so when he walked past them to sit next to Sita on school trips, trade books with her in the hallways, drive her home after school. 

“Months!” Now Sita hears the scandal, and begins to blush. 

“It’s ok if you don’t like me back,” she mumbles, watching her fingers trace the lettering on the spine of her book. “I just thought --” 

“Not like you back?!” Sita’s eyes snap up in alarm because Rama sounds as near hysterical as she’s ever known him to be. He’s raised his voice in the library of all places! “Sita,” he leans back, chair scraping as he stands up, towering over her as he makes his confession. “I’m in love with you!” 

“What?” Sita stands up so quickly she gets tangled in her chair, tripping slightly as it moves back. Rama’s hand shoots out to grab hers as she flails back, and when she’s steady enough to look at his face again he’s smiling gently, eyes fond as if he really is in love. 

But wait -- “You always look at me like that,” she accuses. 

“Like what?” 

“Like you love me! I just thought you looked at all of your friends like that.” Or well, she’d hoped, which was why she had spent the last few months trying to get his attention, but she hadn’t known.

Rama’s brow furrows. “I don’t have any other friends,” he says honestly as if that doesn’t break Sita’s heart every time she thinks too hard. But in a way, that’s kind of her point. 

“How do you know it’s love then, and not just....heightened friendship?” 

His face relaxes back into the smile. “How do you?” 

“I....” So many things, Sita thinks, but none that can be said in the middle of the library on a Wednesday. Especially not when she knows that the Head Librarian is undoubtedly creeping the stacks, trying to listen to their conversation so that she has something good to pass on at the next faculty meeting. Sita bites her lip. “Because of this,” she decides, left hand reaching out to grab him by the tie, right hand tangling in his hair. 

Their first kiss is a mash of noses and lips, and the rim of Rama’s glasses biting just slightly into the skin of Sita’s cheek. He’s leaning awkwardly over the table, hands planted like trees at the edge of the table, and Sita realizes very quickly that neither of them has ever done this before -- and she knows that the only movies he sees are the once he watches with her. 

Still: “Good?” she asks when they split apart. 

“We’ll practice,” he says dazedly, eyes roaming the contours of her face as one hand coming up to wipe what she assumes is spittle at the edge of her lip. “But yes, I’d say so.” 

Sita smiles. “Good.” She leans in to peck him quickly on the cheek. “I love you too.” 

Annabeth Chase from the Percy Jackson and the olympians series

being able to control armies can make people weak, or hungry, but a true queen can control her army and still call them friends

Wonderful Women of History: DURDHARA, fl.4th century BCE, wife of Chandragupta Maurya and mother of his heir; according to tradition, relative of the dynasty he deposed.

1) irresistible, difficult to be stopped.

2) difficult to be borne or suffered

3) difficult to be accomplished.

4) difficult to be kept in memory.

                                                        - Translations of Durdhara’s name in Sanskrit

It is anger that saves her, buoys her up from drowning in despair. Things come; things go. She should have known this before, should have been taught this at her father’s knee. Instead she is reeling, now, uncertain of everything but that she must survive.

“You are stronger than you believe,” says Chandragupt, and he bends his head – that of an Emperor’s!– to kiss her wrist.

She loves him, then. 

(Requested by @chaanv)

@hindumythologyevent day 4 - Male characters / sources

Sometimes she wondered if the others could see it too.

The way he moved, with something more than just a warrior’s confidence and strength, more than just a prince’s grace and charm.

The way he smiled, the smile of a man who had seen everything there was to be seen, almost like he was watching the world unfold around him like a retelling of a beloved play.

The way he drew people towards him, commanded not just the respect but the love and adoration of those around him, almost effortlessly.

The way people turned to him for advice, approval, comfort, even in anger - how they always looked to him first.

The way his arrival would silence a room, make people hold their breath, make them gawk, not in fear or shock, but in admiration. He was beautiful, yes, but it was something more.

Were it anyone else, she might have thought him insincere, a man who put on an act, who rarely revealed his true colors, she might have even been envious - he cannot be this immaculate, not truly. But with him, there was no question of it.

She’d seen his mischief, his laughter, his practicality, his morality; his bluntness, almost outright rudeness towards those who didn’t deserve his respect, and his utter devotion and earnestness to those who did.

She’d seen him brighten her husband Arjun’s day with just a smile, lessen her own sadness with just a hand on her arm, calm even his hot tempered long suffering brother Balram’s anger with only a look.

She hadn’t often seen him rise to anger, despite the many situations that warranted it. She knew, of course, that his offenders were far beneath him, undeserving of not just his anger but his mere presence, but it made him all the more fascinating, the way their words had seemingly no effect on him save for amusement, how he so rarely acted in haste, or fell prey to his temper, yet how easy it was for him to smile, to laugh, to sing.

She’d heard the insults they threw at him - that he was only a cowherd, only a milkmaid’s son, no one to be respected, as if those were titles to be ashamed of.

She’d heard of eyes twinkling like stars before, but the stars she saw in his eyes felt real - too real.

She’d heard tales, from Subhadra, of his enchanting prowess with the flute. How his music would make the gopis dance, how everyone would flock to hear it, beg him to play it for them, how even the cows in vrindavan would come to him when they heard it. No , she’d wanted to say, it wasn’t the music, it wasn’t just the music, it was him.

She’d heard of the events that followed in his wake- of Pootna, of Mount Govardhan, of Kansa; she was no stranger to divine intervention, being born from fire herself, but it did not seem to her as if he had obtained boons from various gods, or as if he was under the protection of one, and that was what had led to the stories that followed him. Who was he, really? What was he?.

But for all her musings, he seemed almost inexplicably human, inexplicably mortal. She saw in him the sky, the stars, the heavens, but she also saw the dust from behind the wheels of his chariot, the blood his divine weapon left on his fingers, the love with which he held his wives’ hands, the tenderness with which he held her first son in his arms.

Krishna, Vasudev, Govinda , Giridhari, Keshav, Son of Devaki, Son of Yashoda, Son of Nanda, Her true friend, confidant, her partner in crime, the perfect match to her wit, and somehow, something more. More than anything she has ever known.

It’s why when she feels the most alone she has ever felt, the most angry, the most betrayed, the most helpless, the most afraid, she calls out to him.

Because she knows without a doubt he will hear her

Aishwarya Rai, Taal, 1999.

@femmefatalenet | event nine | athena in 2018 | sky

In 2018, Athena is still in Athens, trying to figure out where it went wrong, strategizing, reading, analysing, war after war after war, trying to see when she lost control of it all, when it starting going beyond her. Because she is determined, single-minded, steadfast, and she is going to change the world once more.