#thanks for the ask taddy!

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

What are some head canons you've been wanting to share, but haven't had the chance to? (Yes, I AM asking you to ramble about the blorbos)

Here’s my head canon (as I told you earlier): Legend and Sky are related. Not only in blood, but in unique ability to relate to the Goddess through dreams.

If we begin with the assumption that Legend and Fable are indeed twins, or at least brother and sister—this is still heavily debated, so take of it what you will, but that is how I read that bit of lore—then obviously, Legend is in the Royal family. And the Royal family was founded by whom? Sky and Sun. So, they’re related. By blood. YAY.

I love this for a lot of reasons. Their opposite temperaments. Their opposing views of the Goddess, of their adventures, of their teammates now that they have them. Add in the fact that they’re blood (like Twilight and Time) and you can get a fun dynamic, especially when that mentor-protege relationship just isn’t there like it is for those two. Sky isn’t a leader or a teacher, at least not amongst the Chain, and Legend isn’t exactly a student or a follower (though I will note he’s very good at stepping up when need be). Anyways, juicy, juicy dynamic, imo.

Anyways, now more into real head canon territory. Next, we can notice that both Sky and Legend experience dreams in their adventures. Sky has multiple warning dreams about his Zelda, Sun, throughout Skyward Sword; Legend starts at least? one of his adventures with a dream, not to mention his whole deal with Koholint dream island. And, someone can correct me if I’m wrong, but some of the Zelda’s have had forewarning dreams, too, or just general dreams of Hylia. Therefore, I think it isn’t too much of a stretch to imagine that the ability to perceive prophetic dreams has been passed down through the Royal family, not through Sun, but through Sky. So, since Legend is a part of the Royal Family, he has it too.

Anyways, I think this could also play out into their sleeping habits. In canon LU, Sky is noted to sleep a lot. And (in fanon, mostly, but I HC it) Legend is a night owl that barely sleeps. I think it very possible that they could still have prophetic dreams, probably about the Chain or their goals or enemies. And their different ways of dealing with those prophetic dreams tie into their characters, too. Perhaps the prophecies exhaust Sky, or he instead wants to make sure that he doesn’t miss a warning from Hylia—so, he sleeps. A lot. Legend, on the other hand, doesn’t want any more of that nonsense after Koholint—so perhaps he wakes himself up from those dreams before he gets trapped, or avoids sleeping entirely, to escape them. This makes him the grouchy, sleep deprived veteran that we know and love.

Anyways, head cannon presented. I love the idea of Prophecy!Sky and Prophecy!Legend who are also related by blood through the Royal line. That is all.

[majorproblems77]

For the one character, one word thing I would like to pick Hyrule and kitten!

And happy birthday! I hope it's just as lovely as you are (aka, very lovely)

Thank you very much, friend! You are lovely too!

Hyrule and Kitten!

"So... Twilight." The traveller rocked on the balls of his feet as he looked over the rancher's shoulder. Down towards the animal below him. It was a small creature which seemed attached to Twilight at the hip.

the rancher made a noise in acknowledgement as he turned back.

"What is that?" The rancher raised an eyebrow in query as Hyrule found himself pointing down towards the creature. "It's so small."

"That's 'cause it's a kitten. This one is only 'bout a month old" The rancher smiled, gently cradling the creature in his hand. "Little runt this one. So Uli's been taking care of it."

"Is that why it's so much smaller than the others?"

The rancher nodded silently, placing the small kitten back down into the small bed they had fashioned for it. "Just because it's smaller than the others doesn't mean it can't be as strong. He just needs a little push in the right direction."

And that was something to think about, wasn't it?

"In fact, I bet in a few months this one will be scrapping with the rest of them. And Winnin'. "The rancher chuckled looking down one more time before he stood up and turned to Hyrule. "We should go find the others. They'll be back from the forest by now I reckon."

Hyrule smiled as Twilight turned to the door and opened it, hyrule found himself looking down at the little kitten one more time before turning away and exiting with Twilight into the fresh ordonian air.

[milkyplier]

What is the rescue ranch au? And what's your favorite thing about it so far?

The Rescue Ranch AU is my Linked UniverseAU AU in which the boys all work on a rescue horse ranch :D they take in the sick and abandoned horsies and take care of them!

My favorite thing about it would be the boys’ nine horses :D

[lightning-chicken]

For the ask game: 32 and 76!

hi taddy, thanks for the ask!!!

(32) Name three of your favourite fanfic writers.

there’s too many to choose from! but off the top of my head:

@finn-m-corvex

@weekend-whip

ShinyShiny9 (from ff.net)

(76) Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of a fanfic? (answering this generically)

yes, actually! the whole of my digital reflections au was a scrapped concept for one of my current wips. and my most recent fic, ‘Current Runs Thicker Than Water’, was originally supposed to have a scene from libber’s pov, but i decided in the end to keep her role more ambiguous. that isn’t to say that i won’t write something about her in the future!

[prince-of-red-lions]

☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it's time to spread positivity! you make me happy! <33

:00 HI TADDY‼️‼️

I LOVE OUR CHATS TY FOR UR SUPPORT 💖💖💖

[taddymason]

Hi Taddy! 🎮 for the oc ask!

Thank you for the ask!

🎮 If they were in Prime Empire, what would their avatar look like?

My best attempt at drawing a Pilot Avatar. I spent an eternity with the outfit. Maybe I will change it in the future

Ask game

[petedavidsonscock]

Chowder and Dex have been studying in Chowder’s room for a few hours when Nursey slams open the door, walks in, and collapses onto the bed. He mutters something, but Chowder can’t make it out because Nursey’s face is fully buried in the pillow.

“What?” he asks.

“I said,” Nursey says, turning his head to the side, “I’m melancholic as fuck right now, bros.”

Dex snorts, not looking up from his code.

“How come?” Chowder asks anyway.

“Because the year’s ending .” Nursey pushes himself up just enough that he can flop over onto his back. “Like, sophomore year. We’re already halfway through college. Like, we just got here.”

“Yeah,” Chowder jokes, “our Taddy Tour was last week, right?”

“Exactly! Time moves despite and against our own desires. It’s mad fucked up.”

Nursey closes his eyes, apparently overcome.

When he doesn’t continue for a few moments, Chowder opens his mouth to prompt him, but Dex elbows him and mutters, “Don’t encourage him.”

Chowder frowns. He says in a low voice, “I’m not encouraging him, I’m talking to him.”

“Same difference,” Dex says flatly.

“What, you don’t think I should talk to him?”

Dex makes a face like, Yeah, kinda . Chowder makes a face back like, Explain yourself then .

“Like, he’s just sad and wants attention right now.”

“So what?” Chowder asks, genuinely confused. “We’re his friends, that’s part of the deal.”

“Well, it’s like—you can’t—” Dex stops, looking frustrated. “It’s like, you have to distract him. Or else he’ll keep working himself up into a fucking, like, pit of ennui.”

Nursey jerks upright. “Ennui? Did you just say ennui?”

He grins at Dex, who glares back at him and says, “I know the word ennui.”

Dex and Nursey have a side-pot Sin Bin, for when Dex uses a particularly English-major word or phrase, which, to his own frustration, he’s doing increasingly often.

“Babe,” Nursey is saying, “you did not know what ennui meant before me.”

“Yeah, I did. How the fuck would you know?”

“ Ennui . Come on. Admit that’s me. That’s a dollar.”

“I know words,” Dex argues, while Chowder plucks the computer off Dex’s lap and shuts it. “Just because I’m not majoring in sucking T.S. Eliot’s dick doesn’t mean I don’t know the word ennui.”

Nursey brightens even more. “ And bringing up a modernist poet. Two dollars.”

“No, fuck you.”

Nursey cocks his head, eyes wide and exaggeratedly interested, until Dex sags.

“Fine, I’ll give you Eliot. But,” he adds quickly, “I did know the word ennui. Otherwise I couldn’t have done so well on the SAT.”

Nursey groans, long and loud. “No one’s asking you. No one wants to hear about this.”

There are a few moments of silence while Chowder bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “I don’t know if I remember,” he manages after a moment. “What did you get, Dex?”

“It’s pretty easy to remember,” Dex says, “in case you ever forget again. You just take Nursey’s score—” He ducks to avoid a flying pillow “—and add ten points. Convenient, huh?”

He smirks at Chowder, who says, “Ohh, cool, thanks, Dex,” and then Nursey starts hitting Dex with Chowder’s favorite stuffed shark while Dex scrambles to protect his face. As he watches Nursey get in a few solid hits, mussing up Dex’s hair, Chowder feels really glad he moved the laptop.

“Wait, guys,” Chowder says, as Dex gives up trying to fend Nursey off and attempts to grab the toy shark instead. Nursey pulls it out of the way, and Dex nearly overbalances, but recovers just in time for Nursey to smack him again.

“Fuck you,” he sputters, laughing, and stands for better reach. Nursey scrambles to his knees on the bed so he can maintain some height, and hits Dex before switching the shark to his other hand to hold it out of danger. Chowder watches, horrified, as Dex, in scrabbling for the stuffed animal, falls basically on top of Nursey. They're still presumably fighting over Chowder’s (innocent!) shark, but, with the inevitability of a car crash, there comes a moment when they both stop laughing to look at each other. Dex is propped over Nursey, they're staring into each other’s eyes, it’s really clear what they're both thinking about, and Chowder wants to die. He’s happy that his two best friends don’t hate each other anymore, he is, but this might actually be worse.

(It’s not really worse. He’s really happy for them. But, like, seriously? In his bed?)

“Um, guys?” he tries, but his voice comes out quiet and very high pitched. “Guys!”

They startle apart.

Or, actually, Dex hastily shoves himself off of Nursey and to a sitting position. He scowls, already starting to turn red.

“Uh,” says Nursey, who has better maintained his composure. “Yeah, as I was saying, uh.” He blinks hard, regrouping. “It’ll be weird when everything changes, you know?”

Chowder gives him a few long moments to squirm—which Nursey doesn’t, because he has a great poker face, but Chowder hopes he feels really awkward inside—before picking up the conversation.

“That makes sense,” he acknowledges. “But you have to have change to have improvement, right? I mean, graduating will be scary, but it’ll be nice to live in a place that has, you know, normal, not-falling-apart furniture and actually hot water.”

Dex looks up. “Is the hot water out again? I thought I took care of that last week.”

Oh. “Oh, yeah. It’s still working in other places, just not in my bathroom.” Chowder has been meaning to call maintenance. “But I really feel like this time it’ll fix itself if I wait long enough.”

Dex rolls his eyes and gets up. “I’m gonna get my stuff. C, just tell me next time.”

He leaves, presumably to get his tools from his dorm. When the door closes behind him, Chowder glances at Nursey, who looks—God. Besotted might be the right word. After a moment, Nursey flops backwards onto the bed.

“Ugh.”

Chowder glances down at his computer and deletes a stray line break.

“You know,” he says softly, “we’re still gonna have this. After, I mean.”

“Have what?” Nursey asks without opening his eyes. “Dex being pissy all the time?”

“Us. The Frogs.”

Nursey sighs. “I guess.”

“No, really.” Chowder slides out of his chair to sit cross-legged on the floor, ticking points off on his fingers, getting more certain as he speaks. “Rans and Holster are gonna be here for like every Kegster. Bitty’s totally gonna move in with Jack when he graduates, and that’s only forty minutes away. And we have a whole year before that of him being captain.” He can’t help but grin. “He’s gonna be ‘swawesome . And, like, when it’s our turn, we’re not gonna stop being friends just ‘cause we don’t have to skate suicides at 5am together anymore.”

Nursey is still enough that Chowder can tell he’s listening intently now.

“It’ll be different,” Chowder adds. “But we’ll still be us.” He hesitates, then takes the plunge. “And you and Dex…”

“What?”

“You’re both obviously in it for the long run.”

“Oh,” Nursey says. He totally fails to sound normal. “You think?”

Chowder snorts. “Uh, yeah. The other day he asked me whether it would be weird to invite you to his family’s Thanksgiving.”

Nursey props himself up on an elbow to stare at Chowder. “Wait, like, next year Thanksgiving? It’s April.”

The expression on his face is so stunned that Chowder finally lets out the laugh that’s been building inside him for most of this conversation. “Yep,” he says finally.

“Oh,” Nursey says. There’s a smile growing on his face, so sincere that Chowder almost feels like he’s intruding. “That’s chill.”

“Yeah,” Chowder says, then considers. “I think it’s maybe all gonna be okay, actually.”

Nursey turns that smile onto him. “You know I love you, right, man?”

Chowder picks himself up off the floor: this moment definitely calls for a hug. “‘Course I know that,” he tells him. “I love you too.”

~~~

thanks for reading! here’s the ao3 link for if u want to leave a kudos/comment.

[arecaceae175]

I was inspired to draw a little scene you wrote three days ago...

(Sorry my laptop ate up the quality 😭)

AAAAAAAAAAAA THIS IS SO CUTE!!!!!!! I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!! LOOK AT THEM!!!!!!!!

AW Sky looks so happy!!!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much I love this

@taddy-cat Look! An art from your ask!!!

[tashacee]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I HAVE PRESENTS!

Per your request, a happy Hyrule! He's showing off his new sundress! Shout out to prince-of-red-lions for helping me pick the dress design and finding a fun way to include Lord Larry!

Now we have Minish Four and Fairy Hyrule going for a ride on Lord Larry! Pocket Vaati is confused about why they need to, but it looks like fun so he's gonna ask to ride later. Everyone is having a good time!

TADDY I CRY

this is GORGEOUS! Thank you so much, I love them both to the moon and back! Hyrule looks so happy and that dress is adorable! And thank you to @prince-of-red-lions for helping out!

Mining Four and Fairy Hyrule would have SUCH hijinks on Lord Larry, I love them! Pocket Vaati absolutely should join in, he’d have a blast

Thank you so so much friend, sending massive long distance hugs!

[rainofthetwilight]

How would you describe Jenna's fighting style? What are her strengths, her favorite weapons, etc?

TADDDYY!!! TY FOR THIS ASK :DD I don't talk abt fighting styles n stuff often so I'll try my best lol

I would describe jenna's style as a 'fight or flight' kind of style, when she senses danger, that's her immediate response. If she's cornered, it would be easy to overpower her (until she got her powers), so she tries to keep the opponent as far away from her as possible. she tries to dodge hits as much as she could, because it was quite easy to weaken her (when she first started to train). she uses her fists more than anything else, and usually tries to aim for the opponent's weak points. but her targets are mostly the face, stomach, or knees. she tries to weaken the opponent as much as she could to get an easy victory

her fighting style is heavily influenced by lloyd, being trained by him after all, so if she were to fight with any of the ninja she would fight better alongside lloyd compared to anyone else. soon enough she would also be trained by nya, and then jay, who's fighting styles were quite different from lloyd's, so it took a little while to adapt, especially to nya's

when it comes to weapons, she's only ever good enough at using a sword, it's her favourite, as it's what she mostly uses during training. anything else similar to it, like knives, is also pretty helpful when needed. she actually prefers to fight without weapons, more accustomated without it. she'll only use weapons when it's completely necessary, as she prefers to use her physical strength more than having a weapon to help, especially ever since she got her powers, which to her was enough. however, she was taught how to use some of the ninja's weapons in the future, specifically the nunchucks, which was actually one of her least favourites, as it required more balance and control

speaking of her powers, her control over them at first was rough to say the least. she had to learn how and when to use them, because electrocuting an opponent, even a petty thief, wasn't exactly the best option to win a fight. she had to be taught how powerful lightning actually was, how dangerous it actually was, what were its uses, as she wasn't afraid to attack someone with it no matter if they were that dangerous or not. compared to the ninja, she doesn't have a sense of responsibilty with her powers, so she was only allowed to use it in combat when it was extremely necessary at first

-

tysm for this ask taddy!! :D thank you for letting me rant abt my blorbo <33 (also, thanks to your elemental animal forms series, I may or may have not gotten inspired to make one for jenna [and maybe a future ethan aswell])

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Cheeto, do you think Wild is chaotic enough to try getting a bokoblin into people clothes? If so, what do you think he would try putting them in?

Hi, taddy <3. this was not a writing prompt. My brain took it as one. By Hylia this WILL be a oneshot. I... ya'll can check it out on Ao3 if you want here. No warnings for this fic other than my own stupidity.

“Wild.”

“Twilight.”

“Wild.” Twilight pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did you manage this? Why would you even...” He let out a frustrated sound, unable to put the situation in front of them into words. He said at last, defeated, “Why?”

“Be-cause, Twi-light,” Wild sang back happily. A huge grin split his face. “It wasn't hard. Bokoblins aren't that vicious, you just gotta be fast. And look, now it's harmless as a puppy.”

The unlucky bokoblin that had become Wild's latest victim stood, stiff and startled, in the center of the abandoned monster camp. Like a shivering dog wearing oversized shoes, it very, very carefully raised a knobby leg to inspect the colorful fabric that poofed out around its waist. When the stiff fabric flared up with the movement, fluttering at the edges, the bokoblin yelped and skittered away. The fabric, of course, followed, and the monster screamed out a horrible, frightened shriek that rang in Twilight's ears. Wild cackled. Behind them, the heroes chuckled and murmured at the sight. They’d planned to take out the straggler as they passed through the monster camp before they settled a little way away for the night. Wild, however, had motioned for them to stay back with his signature “I am up to trouble” expression plastered across his face, and he'd even managed to argue Time down with the assurance that this idea was “super tame, just a little fun, I promise no one gets hurt, and I'll deal with the bokoblin myself.” Twilight just wanted to know why his “tame” ideas somehow included a pink tutu shoved over an unsuspecting monster's head. He didn't even know where Wild could have gotten the article of clothing. “Wild...” Twilight began. “Wild, I don't think that no—”

At that moment, the bokoblin tripped over itself and sprawled into the grass. It paid the heroes and their renewed roaring laughter no mind as it crawled away frantically, beating at the puffed tutu around its waist with its fists. With every hit, the fabric sprung back up into its former shape, frightening the monster further. Finally, the bokoblin went limp on the ground, resigned to its fate. Twilight felt something in his heart twist at the sight of its big, wet pleading eyes turned his way. Even if those eyes belonged to a monster. “Wild,” Twilight said more firmly, over the rest of the heroes' laughter. “This’s cruel. Either kill the poor thing, or let it go. You know better than to torment your enemies. You're a hero—behave like one.”

Some of the heroes stifled their laughter or hid it behind their hands, but Wild didn't even try to act ashamed. He delightedly cackled in Twilight's face and flung his hands out in challenge. “You're welcome to try to take it off yourself, Mr. Hero.”

Twilight stared Wild down, willing him with all of his being to back off before they got into a fight in front of the whole Chain. Wild's smirk didn't waver, nor would it, not now that Wind was whispering excitedly to Warrior, and Legend was murmuring in displeasure to Four and Sky, and money was exchanging hands in the group. Even Twilight's glance to Time for aid was met with an amused shrug and a tip of the head that meant your kid, your problem. From the ground, the bokoblin let out a warbling, miserable little plea.

Twilight, gritting his teeth, was the first to blink. “We are going to talk about this later,” he promised Wild. That finally got a reaction out of Wild—his face paled, and his smile dropped just a little—but Twilight ignored it as he turned to the bokoblin on the ground. It was kicking lamely in an attempt to dislodge the tutu, which was muddy and torn now, no longer a bright fluffy pink, from its legs. At Twilight's approach, however, it turned its attention to him, baring its fanged teeth.

“Alla’ya’ll stand back,” Twilight ordered. He rolled up his sleeves. “Wild, we will be having that talk ‘bout your behavior later. I am very disappointed in you.”

The heroes shouted and the bokoblin squalled as Twilight pounced upon it. When he came away a few minutes later with the tutu clutched in his fist—torn directly in half, since the bokoblin wouldn't cooperate with his efforts to pull the offending piece of clothing over its head—the heroes all hooted and hollered triumphantly. The bokoblin, back in its customary loincloth, scrambled away without a backwards glance into the undergrowth.

Twilight was in no mood to celebrate. Wild, at least, now had the decency to wince at the sight of the sluggishly bleeding scratches on Twilight's arms, even as the rest of the heroes cheered. Twilight flung the ruined tutu into Wild's face, then grumpily stomped off towards the nearest river to clean up. 

[novastaar]

Got a few more OC questions:

What is their favourite colour?

What do they wear to bed? Not asking that after posting that adorable image of the Captain and Shellington in their pyjamas! Why do you ask?

Do they have any random/obscure talents?

Do they go by any nicknames?

Yay! Thanks for the questions

(Not gonna lie, didn't see this one at first and almost didn't answer it, oops) Trixie's favorite color is green, and Frog's is orange

Trixie just wears an oversized T-shirt and sweatpants to bed. One of the few crew members to have a full outfit. Although, I think in real life she'd probably wear a onesie. Frog just wears an eye mask. That's it.

Trixie has a couple of weird talents. They don't come in handy that often, but she has them. She's really good with knives (Barnacles was the one who found that out after they found an old hunting knife on one of their missions, and Trixie just started swinging it around like nothing), she can pick locks, she can dismantle just about any camera, and she can catch most venomous snakes without getting bit. Frog has fewer talents but more useful ones. They have a photographic memory, she can't be affected by poison or venom, and they can mimic any bird call they've heard before.

Trixie is actually a nickname (I've also upgraded the comic where I reveal her name to a drabble to hopefully get me to finish it quicker. It probably won't work). She also responds to Trix and Trixster, though. Frog doesn't go by many nicknames, but Kwazii calls her Tadpole or Taddy to tick them off (it doesn't really work, they don't care at all)

[jacksonroseroth]

~The Price~Chapter 1~

Patrons in The Drunken Wench were loud and rowdy as a fight broke out and the bouncers had to not only break up the fight, but call the cops once it got too out of hand for them to control. The red and blues flashed outside and the guilty parties tried to scatter, but they were all soon taken down and to jail for trying to incite a riot. Once everything calmed down and the bar was more or less back to how it was, one of the barmaids slipped around and began sweeping through the establishment, fixing chairs, cleaning up glass and clearing off tables.

Thatcher eased past the straggling bar fighters as the cops dragged them out, patting the bouncers on the back with a light smirk. He chuckled as he and his bodyguards shuffled in, then the men behind him dispersed to different corners of the room, while Thatcher went straight to the bar and slid onto a stool. He swept his gaze over the talent they had behind the bar for the night, noting one new face as she slipped back, tossing the broken glass in her dustpan and putting it, along with the broom, away before washing her hands and jumping back in line to take orders. 

He kept an eye on her as she inched her way down, not giving any of the other barmaids any attention as they attempted to take his drink order. He watched her curls bounce around, long enough to just spill over her shoulders in a deep, rich chocolate brown color that glinted red when she walked under the lights. Her green eyes sparkled as she smiled at the patrons she mixed drinks for and her laugh floated down to him; Loud, light, and hearty.

As she approached him, wiping down the bar and quickly mixing drinks, Thatcher’s piercing green gaze poured into her as she finally slid in front of him and she lifted her head from wiping, flashing him a bright, sweet smile. Thatcher returned it as she said, “Hi. Welcome to The Drunken Wench. What can I get you?”

“Whiskey double. Shaken. Neat.” Thatcher said, watching her face as it remained neutral, but her sweet smile stuck. She gave a nod, then gestured to the wall behind her as she said, “Do you have a preference? We have Crowne, Jameson, or Rye?”

Thatcher nodded and briefly held up three fingers before he pulled out a gold plated, rectangular container, flipping it open to pull out a cigarette from a line. The woman arched a brow at him, then turned to grab a bottle of rye whiskey and glass. She turned back to set the glass on the bar, then poured about two shots worth into a metal cup, then scooped ice into it before she capped the cup and began to shake it. As Thatcher sparked up his lighter, watching her, he was impressed that she didn’t ask any extra questions about his order and got it right, to boot.

Taking a drag from his cigarette, he watched her take the cap off then slide a filter over the top before turning it upside down over the glass. She dunked both instruments into soapy water before setting them on a rubber mat to dry. As Thatcher reached for the glass, she slid back over as she asked, “Did you want to open a tab, sir?”

“No, just the double, darlin’. Thank you. Keep the change.” Thatcher said, producing a $100 bill from the inside breast pocket of his jacket and handing it to her, between two fingers. She blinked as she reached for it, freezing when the last part registered. His smirk lifted, slightly, and tilted his fingers toward her more for her to take it.

“Th-Thank you.” She said, stunned, taking the money. She stared at him for a moment, then cleared her throat as she turned away to put the ticket into the register and close him out. Thatcher took another drag then a sip of his whiskey, watching her as she broke the $100, taking 4 $20’s as change then pulled out a blue rubber bag, unzipping it. Thatcher saw the name ��Taddie’ scrawled across it and she tucked a $20 into it, then pulled out three more, all with the names of the other barmaids on them, tucking the remaining $20’s into their bags, zipping them all and putting them back under the register when she was done. She took the remaining 5 of his change and stuffed it into the communal tip jar. Giving a nod, Thatcher downed half the glass of whiskey before taking another drag and sitting back as he cast a glance back to one of his bodyguards and giving him a nod. The man nodded back and zeroed in on the woman as he moved from his position in the corner, to the bar to grab her attention for a drink.

Thatcher wathed his man give her a polite smile and strike up a conversation with her as she made his drink. An excited, happy smile spread across her face as she happily responded to whatever it was he had said, pausing in the mixing of his drink as they locked in a quick, deep conversation, then she immediately picked up her pace again, finishing the drink and setting it on the bar for him. He handed her a card that she quickly ran, coming back with his card, the receipt and a pen for him to sign. They continued to talk as the man signed and handed the pen and receipt back, giving her a wide, flirtatious smile, to which she responded with a less than matching, polite smile, quickly moving on. Thatcher chuckled and nodded at his bodyguard as he went back to his spot, sipping on the drink.

The woman slowly made her way back down to Thatcher and he downed the rest of his drink, stamping out his cigarette in the ashtray beside him. She moved in front of him and spotted his empty glass, then reached for the bottle again as she said, “Another double for you?”

“I’m good, darlin’. Thank you.” Thatcher said, giving her a once over as her back was turned and he smirked to himself. She turned back and raised a brow, slightly, than nodded, giving him a sweet smile, moving on as she said, “Have a good night, sir.”

Thatcher smirked and pulled another $20 from his pocket, slipping it under his glass before he turned from the counter and slipped out of his chair, nodding at his men. They all abandoned their spots, converging at the front door, two walking out as their heads whipped around, while the other two stood by the door with the bouncers, waiting for Thatcher. They walked out and Taddie lifted her gaze from the drink she was mixing, watching the men file out. She shook her head with a soft sigh and pasted on a smile as she handed two drinks off, then began wiping down the bar where it was empty. She made her way back up to Thatcher’s empty seat and grabbed the glass, then stopped as she stared at the $20 he’d left as her tip.

Taddie picked it up and blinked, utterly confused. The man handed her a $100 bill for a $15 shot, telling her to keep the rest of the $85 as her tip, then left her another $20 tip on the same drink. Whether it was some weird, new flirting tactic she wasn’t aware of or the man was ridiculously rich and just wanted to throw it around, she wasn’t about to turn it down as she desperately needed the cash, which was the whole reason she took the bartending job in the first place. She would take the flirty, drunken men and the half ass passes they tried to make at her if it meant close to $300 nights in tips. Stuffing the bill into her bra, she dunked the glass into the disinfectant water, then set it on the rubber mat to dry.

As she went to the register to run a few cards, one of the other girls slunk up to her, gripping her arm with a wide eyed stare. Taddie glanced at her then snickered as she shook her head and said, “What’s the look for, Ash? Who’s the hottie you’re after now?”

“Not me-You, bitch! You have no idea who that even was you were serving, do you?” Ash asked, leaning one hand on the counter, planting the other on her hip. Taddie chuckled and gave a shrug, glancing up at the perky blonde as her blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

“No? Just some guy? Loaded, by the way he’s throwing around hundred’s like they’re ones…Why? Who is he? Some hotshot Wall Street banker or something?” Taddie asked as she closed out tabs and waited for receipts. Ash tsk’d at her and sighed, shaking her head as she said, “You’ve heard of the Price family? The Swedish Mafia family?”

“Oh, please. I’ve heard those rumors. If this bar was owned by the mob, I think they’d do better--They don’t want cops crawling all over the place.” Taddie said with a soft, disbelieving laugh. Ash gave her a look and said, “Alright, you’re new to Virginia, especially Roanoke. The mob is very present here, but the Swedes do a very good job of hiding themselves.”

“I thought you hated the mob in Roanoke?” Taddie asked, giving her a look. Ash gave a shrug and said, “I’m not gonna lie and say they aren’t attractive. They’re good to look at. ‘Bout it.”

“Okay, so who is he? The head honcho? The son? The cousin? The best friend? What, Ash?” Taddie asked, going along with her friend, though she very much did not believe her.

“He’s Thatcher Price. The youngest. He has like 6 brothers that are all in the business. Thatcher is the rebel, likes to bullshit around town, plays in a band-”

“He plays in a band? Mr. All Black, Fancy Cuff Links and Silver Chain? Yeah, I caught that, by the way.” Taddie said, shooting her friend a look and raising her brow. Ash smirked and let out a soft, swoon sounding sigh.

“Yeah, they all look real good when they clean up…Um, no-Really, he’s in a heavy metal band and his father hates it. Loathes when he goes on gigs and shit. He zeroed in on you, Tads. I’d keep an eye out. The Price brothers are a little rough with their women. I dunno about Thatcher? But he might not be completely the black sheep he’s made himself out to be…Just be careful, okay?” Ash said, giving her a firm look as Taddie grabbed her receipts and a few pens, nodding along.

“Ash, you’ve seen me handle myself. I don’t think a spoiled, little rich boy is gonna be able to shake me.” Taddie said with a soft laugh, giving Ash a bubbly smile and wrinkled her nose at her before flitting away to hand back cards.

~

Over the next several months, Thatcher made frequent stops to The Drunken Wench when Taddie was working. With one of his brothers taking it over from their father 4 years prior, Thatcher was able to get a hold of her schedule, even tweaked it once or twice to give her a few days off when he found she needed it, other times to coincide with when he’d come back into town after being dragged on a business trip. While he wanted to talk to Taddie himself, he was more interested in how she interacted with his bodyguards and his other friends he sent over to her, watching her closely as she spoke with the men.

Thatcher was the middle of 4 brothers and rebellious as any middle child. He held no interest in his father’s ‘business’ dealings, in complete contrast to his three brothers, who gladly took over where ever their father had felt they were ready to. His oldest brother, Thomas, was his father’s heir and there was no disputing that; He was by his father’s side on a daily basis, learning how to run the business to one day take it over. Thomas was 6’3 with a constant brooding expression boring out through his near jet black eyes, they were such a deep shade of dark brown. His hair matched, dark and hanging past his ears that glittered with a single diamond earring in each ear.

Tristan and Theo were the youngest, and twins; Tristan running the bar and Theo running the strip club down the street. Fraternal twins, Tristan was the oldest and taller of the two, with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes, making him swoonable toward any woman he looked at, Theo having dirty blonde hair and green eyes that matched Thatcher’s. Though both had their own much softer, more angelic features than Thomas or Thatcher.

While the three were quite happy and content taking their place in the family business, Thatcher was always somewhat repulsed by the idea behind the mob, but seeing the advantage of being the son of a mob boss is what made him stick around to use and abuse it to his benefit. He joined a local band in Richmond, he dedicated most of his time toward it and soon fell in love with music, though he’d never tell his father that. Thatcher was far more interested in the arts and music than he was in shaking down local businesses that were already struggling to begin with. He was glad his family was able to provide protection from other mob families that constantly tried to take over the small town, but not at the cost his father made them pay.

Luckily, Tristan told his older brother he could always come to The Drunken Wench and do what he pleased and their father would never know. Thatcher was often there to find a semi drunk, but still consenting woman to bring home and have a wild night with, or hustle a few drunken assholes out of a few hundred bucks, only once having gotten into an all out brawl, from which Tristan dragged Thatcher away from it and shoved him in the back room to keep him out of any police reports that would travel back to their father. Now, however, he had a new interest that brought him to the bar and kept him out of trouble, for once…For now.

Taddie noticed Thatcher frequenting the bar more often, but always got the same order and left her with a whole extra $100 tip from a $15 drink. She questioned his motives, but never said anything as she’d amassed quite the savings in the last several months, her piggy bank overflowing with $20’s and $50’s. Around the same time, she also noticed a slew of men had begun to order about 2-3 drinks from her, leaving her rather generous tips. What was suspect about it, was they all had something new they asked about her. 

The first was what she did outside of bartending, to which she responded that she was an aspiring painter and saving to get a small studio space to work and display her pieces. Another asked if she ever did anything outdoors or like being outdoors. There was a brief and passionate conversation about camping, something Taddie had been dying to start up again since she moved from California to Virginia, moving in with Ash to start over. A few asked about her perfume, though she wasn’t wearing any, and they started guessing her favorite scents. She gently corrected them, not wanting to really engage with a few of them, but otherwise let it go. As it neared Christmas and the snowfall got heavier, Thatcher began plotting and making moves of his own.

~

It was a busy Friday night when Thatcher stopped by, brushing the snow from his jacket before he slipped it off and one of his bodyguards took it from him before he went to the bar and his usual seat. Taddie had seen him walk in this time, finding it odd that he handed off his jacket, then watched as the posse he walked in with split up as he headed toward her. Taddie took a deep breath as she finished the slew of drink orders she’d been given, then quickly handed them off to the other girls to deliver them to their tables. Wiping down her section of the bar then her hands, she went over to Thatcher and grabbed the bottle of rye whiskey that they were now running low on, again.

As she shook up and poured out his drink, she said, “You’re back again. Not surprising…At any point were you going to tell me you’re name?”

“Why would I do that? We’ve never spoken more than a few words to each other.” Thatcher said with a teasing smirk as she set the glass on the counter and he quickly produced a $100 bill. Taddie narrowed her gaze at him, snatching it from him and waving it back in his face as she said, “That’s why…If you’re gonna be handing over hundreds, I think I should at least know your name?”

“Thatcher.”

“Thank you…Uh-Um, th-thank you.” Taddie snapped, quickly changing her tone when she realized. Thatcher raised a brow at her then chuckled as he lifted his glass to his lips, taking a slow sip. She bit her lip and let out a soft huff, holding up the bill again as she added, “Why though? I’m-Not that I’m complaining…I just-I don’t understand. You get a double whiskey then leave…Why?”

Thatcher gave a shrug as he set the glass down and folded his arms over the bar with a small smirk as he said, “Because I can? I felt like it? If you don’t want it, give it back.”

“Never said I didn’t want it--Just said I was curious…I-I…I kind of need the money, so-so thank you.” Taddie said, chewing her lip before she gave her head a shake and turned to make the change, then split it between the girls that were working, as she did every so often. Thatcher watched her with a smirk and took another sip, waiting for her to come back.

“So, you split the tip instead of taking the whole thing, because you kind of need the money…Why?” Thatcher asked, dragging his gaze up to her with a knowing smirk. Taddie pursed her lips, slightly, trying not to smirk in embarrassment of being caught. He chuckled and pulled his gold cigarette case from his breast pocket, taking out a cigarette and his lighter, glancing up at her, waiting for an answer. Taddie tapped her manicured nails on the bar a few times before she pushed off it.

“Because some of the other girls need it more than me. They’ve got kids, medical shit, bills upon bills upon bills…Money is the only reason most of us are working here. At least in my case, this isn’t what I want to do and the last job I would take…Which…Is why I’m here.” Taddie said, looking away as she began to squirm under his intense gaze. Thatcher lit the end of his cigarette then quickly tucked the lighter in his pocket as he said, “Why are you here? What do you want to do?”

As if he didn’t already know.

“I, um…Well, I’m-I’m actually saving for a studio that’s still for rent downtown. I’m an aspiring painter, I need space.” Taddie said, a genuine smile slowly creeping across her face. Thatcher’s smile lifted as he nodded and he lifted his cigarette for another drag.

“Painter? Mmm--Might need to talk to my boys, have you commission something for us.” He said, closing his lips around the filter and taking a deep drag, one he ghosted before blowing out, away from Taddie’s face. She raised a brow, laughing in her head at the thought of being invited to the family mansion and painting a portrait of the secret Swedish Mafia family of Roanoke.

“Commission? For who? You and your brothers or something?” Taddie asked.

“How do you know I have brothers?” Thatcher asked, smirking at her as he lifted his glass for another sip.

“You give younger brother energy-Rebel child…Do you have brothers?” Taddie questioned, raising a brow at him as she spread her arms across the bar as she planted her hands on it. Thatcher chuckled and nodded, setting his glass down.

“Three-Older brother, me, then the twins. Middle child syndrome, is what you’re getting.” Thatcher said, taking a quick drag. Taddie nodded and slowly leaned back from the bar, twisting the rag in her hand, pretending to dry them off.

“Alright, then.”

“So,  you’d do a commission for me and my brothers too? I was actually talking about my band.” Thatcher said, ashing his cigarette in the ashtray before bringing it to his lips again. Taddie raised her brows as an amused smirk crossed her face, chuckling softly. Thatcher raised his brows as well, surprised by the reaction. He blew his smoke just past her head as he rumbled at her, “Something funny?”

“I ju-I’m sorry…I can’t see you in a band. Everytime you come in here, it’s all black, all fancy, all suit. I-I can’t picture anything else?” Taddie said with a soft chuckle. Thatcher arched a brow as he took a deep swig of his drink.

“So, we picture me in something other than a suit?” He teased, making her jaw drop a little more, caught off guard by the question. She stammered a little and swallowed, hard, before she cleared her throat and glanced away as he snickered to himself. “Yes, I’m in a band. Metal band, in fact. Can you picture me in that?”

Taddie bit her lip as she felt her cheeks heat and she darted her eyes away. Thatcher slid his tongue over his lower lip, lightly, letting his gaze drag over her, then back up as she looked at him again, opening her mouth to respond, when someone called her name, soon followed by glass shattering from across the bar. Her head snapped over and he glanced over his shoulder. Turning back to her, he blinked when he saw she was gone, then looked around, seeing her flying down the bar and around it, shooting over to a booth where two men sat, grappling with a third that had stepped in on behalf of the waitress they were harassing. Thatcher abandoned his cigarette in the ashtray and his drink on the bar, following her as he made eye contact with two of his men, who quickly made a beeline to the altercation.

“-You want her? You can fuckin’ have the whore!” One of the problem men hollared at the third man, who stood between the table and the waitress, who cowered behind him. The third man shouted at him, then sent a cross hook to his jaw that started an brawl between the three, a fourth man jumping in to aid the third.

“Hey! Hey! Knock it off! Break it up, asshole! Hey!” Taddie shrieked at them, managing to pull one of the problem men off and shoving him into a table.

“You want to go, bitch!? Fuck off! This isn’t your fight, cunt!” He shouted at her. Taddie grabbed his shoulders and shot her knee into his groin, making him double over as the breath whooshed out of him and he collapsed.

“That’s for me. Your boy will get it for my girl.” Taddie spat at him, planting her foot on his side and giving him a shove, pushing him onto his side. One of the men she’d seen walk in with Thatcher grabbed the man, another accompanying him and dragging him to the door, shoving him at the bouncers before they headed back to break up the rest of the fight. Taddie quickly turned and grabbed the waitress, tucking her away from the brawl as she screamed at the men to stop fighting. Thatcher’s bodyguards hurried back and tore the men apart, the two that came to the rescue immediately backing off once the other man was subdued and dragged away by the bouncers.

“-And make sure you get their licenses and put them on the list, Charlie! Fuck-Natasha, are you alright, babe?” Taddie shouted to the bouncers, lowering and softening her voice as she turned to the brunette waitress, Natasha, and consoled her as she shook like a leaf.

“Ye-Yeah-Yeah, yeah, I’m-I’m fine. Ju-Just a little, um…Shaken. Can-Can I take ten or-or something?” She asked, looking at Taddie as she let out a shaky breath. Taddie shook her head and said, “No. You’re going home. It’s Friday, we’ve got the bar, it’ll die down soon anyway-Go be with your kids, Tash. Don’t forget your tip bag.”

“Are you sure? Okay-Thank you so much, Taddie.” Natasha said, giving Taddie a tight hug before taking off to the back, ripping off her apron. Taddie sighed and thanked the two men that had jumped in to save and defend Natasha, offering them drinks on the house for their heroics. They agreed, happily, and headed off to the bar to claim them, while Taddie sighed and turned to the table, clearing it off. As she muttered to herself, she’d completely forgotten about Thatcher until she turned and gasped, seeing him standing behind her.

“That was quite the jewel destroyer you gave that guy. Not as innocent as you look, are you?” He asked with a charming smirk. Taddie let out a huff of a sigh and moved around him as she said, “Never said I was innocent. He called me a cunt so I tried to make him one of his own, he loved the word so much.”

Thatcher raised a brow with a soft snicker and followed her at a slower pace, returning to his seat, his drink and his cigarette. Sliding onto the barstool, he watched her plunge the dishes into the disinfectant water, scrubbing them with a sponge before setting them on the rubber mat, then beginning to move around the place, cleaning up. Thatcher took another drag before he stamped out his cigarette and downed the rest of his drink, slipping a $100 under the glass this time. He cast another glance down the bar as Taddie returned, then turned and signaled to his bodyguards that he was ready to go.

Taddie glanced at him as he walked out, watching the four men converge on him at the door, one handing him his jacket that he slipped on before they walked out into the cold Virginia air. She ducked to the back room for a breather, dropping into the armchair with a sighed and closing her eyes. She let out a deep groan as she stretched, then sighed as she curled up and pulled out her phone, scrolling for a few minutes. She shifted in the chair, with another sigh, then closed her eyes as she cradled her phone against her stomach, letting herself drift off for a while.

~

Before she knew it, there was a sudden burst of chatter that startled her awake, making her gasp and sit up quickly, rubbing her eyes with a soft groan. As she shifted in the chair, yawning and looking around, she saw all the girls taking off their aprons and switching shoes as they grabbed their things. Taddie blinked as she braced her hands on the cushion, letting her mouth hang open for a while before she pushed herself to stand.

“Um, okay, why is everyone changing and getting ready to leave? We-We still have like 4 more hours-”

“We’re closed, Tads. It’s 2:30.” Ash said with a chuckle, tossing Taddie her jacket and bag. Taddie let out an oof as she caught them, slightly stumbling back as she was still half asleep.

“I’m sorry-So, what you’re telling me is, you let me sleep the last four hours of my shift?!” Taddie cried at her, giving her a half scared, half incredulous look. Ash chuckled, as did the other girls, going to her friend as she tossed her things onto the chair and went to the door.

“Tads! Tad-Chill out. We had it handled. You needed a break anyway.” Ash said, catching Taddie’s arm. She whirled around and shot Ash a look as she said, “And if Vincey came in while I was snoozing in the back? He would have fired me on the spot. Don’t let me sleep that long again, Ashlen. Seriously.”

“Well, Vincey didn’t show up, so we let you sleep. Come on, let’s go home.” Ash said, guiding her back to the chair and pushing her jacket at her. Taddie sighed and reluctantly shoved her arms into the holes before she tore off her apron and stuffed it into hers and Ash’s shared locker, kicking off her shoes and stuffing her feet into her grey sherpa boots before grabbing her bag from the chair. Ash grabbed her bag and closed the locker, both her and Taddie making their way out with the rest of the girls, through the back door.

As their boots crunched in the freshly fallen and still falling snow, headed for the car, Thatcher watched her from across the street in the comfort of his heated and illegaly tinted SUV. Taddie intrigued him and the fact she had a wit about her made it grow. She seemed shut off from her true emotions, save when she spoke about art. Though it was a brief conversation, he’d seen the sparkle in her eye grow when they talked about her art. He made a note to be back on a day when they were slower so he could actually speak to her and discuss his proposition.

~

Well, shit, here we go. DX XD

Let me know what you guys think! If you want to be added to a taglist for future chapters, send me a message or drop a comment!

@badwolf-in-the-impala

[lightning-chicken]

Ask Game!: "sky"

HEY TADDY!!

here’s your snippet, from part 2 of ‘Putting the Puzzle Pieces Back Together’:

But everything falls back down to the ground, eventually. Even though he could strike the target with his lightning, even though he could call down a storm, he couldn’t, not really. His lightning was an asset, a closely guarded secret.

It was the one thing the Director reminded him of every training session; it was the one thing the Administration pressed down on his shoulders. Don’t give truth away freely; truth is dangerous in the wrong hands. Vincit omnia veritas.

Jay had heard the proverb so many times that it had engraved itself into his trains of thought.

(He supposed that was the purpose of it.)

Jay let himself enjoy one last breath of harsh sky air before he resigned himself to return to the ground. 

[ekacucumber]

🐍 and 🎨 for Amaya?

I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T SEE THIS ASK UNTIL NOW 😭😭😭 Thank you for the ask, Taddy!

🐍 If they were a Serpentine, what type would they be? If they’re already a Serpentine, what other species would they be if they weren’t Serpentine?

Hm, I might consider Constrictai. They're gray and also rely on their super strength. It matches Amaya in some way.

🎨 Do they have a favorite color? What is it?

That's a hard question, but I came up with an answer. Amaya likes all the colors of sky. Blue peaceful skies. Light white little clouds. Gray, heavy and melancholic clouds before rain. Deep dark blue starry sky. And, of course, gradients of sunrises and sunsets.

(oc ask)

[wanderlustmagician]

For the intimidation ask game: somewhere between 🐹 and 🐰

I’m glad I’m not very intimidating. I’m just a goofy lil alien here to write the blorbos and have fun.

Thanks taddy <3