#Fighting Flower's hot takes & strong opinions

[captainfightingflower]

Jackbox Games nowadays feels more corporate than binjpipe.

Warning, very, very vent-y, and heavy discussions about how capitalism is killing art & originality. This could very easily ruin your day if you aren’t mentally prepared for it.

Not as blatantly evil, of course, but corporate nonetheless. They’ve been slowly trying to snuff out the edge that they raised themselves by as Jellyvision after forging themselves for education as Learn Television. It feels like they are slowly drifting away more and more from their Jellyvision-branded humor and branding for a much more squeaky clean and family-focused image to increase profits. It’s HARD for me to even enjoy any of their newer games despite how much i want to enjoy them, because the passion i once felt just feels so vacant now and so much more artificial, which i originally just chalked up to them needing a year off to recuperate themselves from the grind they’ve been doing releasing their Party Packs yearly. But now i know it’s not stress that’s killing the originality: it’s capitalism and consumerism.

Very vent-y, if you do not feel comfortable with my opening statement: then you will probably not like what i have to say next. If you want me to go into detail about why i dislike post-2020 Jackbox; click “Keep reading” instead.

• Bomb Corp. got a patch that forcefully made it easier. Them giving Bomb Corp. a retry button is like them giving Drawful an eraser, yeah it satisfies common complaints, but it goes against the game’s core philosophy. Bomb Corp. is meant to be hard, this job doesn’t blow for nothing. I wouldn’t be complaining if it was optional, but it isn’t; you HAVE to play with nerf.

• Drawful is becoming less and less individualized the more it is stretched thin. Drawful: Animate is a waste of space, a sequel for a game who’s design does not lend itself to further installments. Drawful 2 feels to Drawful as Quiplash XL feels to Quiplash; the same game but with more stuff, and they should’ve called it Drawful remastered, Drawful+, or even Drawful XL. Drawful: Animate should’ve been DLC for the original Drawful, Drawful: Animate is even named similarly to Fibbage: Enough About You. 

Not only that: but the game’s mascot, Sexy Owl, is progressively getting the crass aspects of their design phased out. They rarely wear their bra anymore, not even in Drawful: Animate, the game’s art style is far more average than awful, with clean lines and rarely any sloppy coloring, and they get called Drawful Owl instead of Sexy Owl! Sexy Owl just looks like a regular stylized white owl now. I’m surprised that The Yetee’s plushie even included the bra!

• Job Job barely has it’s own identity despite being the most fleshed out game in their origin pack due to the sheer amount of references it has to other Jackbox properties, and Tee K.O. 2 got the identity it once had STRIPPED away for the sake of shoving recognizable characters down the throats of the public consciousness, the game which encourages you to buy shirts with your designs. 

In fact: M. Bubbles feels deliberately designed to be marketable, if the sheer amount of merch they got it anything to go by, (they got far more merch than any of their fellow Pack-mates, including a plushie & a CARD in CHAMP’D UP: SLAM DOWN! If that’s not special privilege, idunno what is!) they even showed up in a promotional sale illustration only a couple days after their game was announced! That rarely EVER happens. More and more hosts are getting bodies, to the point where the voice-only hosts are feeling like a passing fad that will soon parish.

• The plain disregard to some of their original hosts, Nate Shapiro has been reduced to a crazed conspiracy nut, Guy Towers is heavily implied to have become a capitalist, despite being strictly against it, and Buzz is just AMA (their words, not mine). And honestly? I hope Buzz stays AMA, he doesn’t deserve the treatment the other two got. 

Cookie & Schmitty? Cookie has been flanderized and is nothing but a selling point than a fun bonus, and Schmitty is half the man he used to be, but at least he still somewhat feels like himself, if not significantly watered down to not scare the kids.

• The Jackbox Party Starter is just great value The Jackbox Party Pack 3, buying the 3rd pack on sale is a significantly better deal than buying The Jackbox Party Starter. If there were games that didn’t share a pack with each other, even if it was only one of them; then you could find the value in it. Even if you buy it for the modern features or language selection: fans have already done that for you for free. 

Not to mention it’s just not a good introduction to The Jackbox Party Packs. Quiplash 3 is the only game i can see being good to get someone into Jackbox Games among the Starter selection, that is it. You Don’t Know Jack: Full Stream & Drawful: Animate would have been FAR better titles to introduce someone to Jackbox Games than Trivia Murder Party 2 or Tee K.O.

• I used to like reading through their Twitter, it actually felt really charming to me how full of life their promotional images were and how much life their was, nowadays it feels more like “Hello fellow kids” and the people running it are crying for help. I barely find a promotional illustration that actually feels like there’s care put into it, it just feels like a few steps from becoming alegria.

That’s the end of my overly vent-y Talking Points as to why i don’t like Jackbox Games as a company anymore. Companies aren’t your friends, i know that fact very well. But it’s still just sad to see an indie team fall from grace and into the clammy grasps of commercialism. I get that they need to pay the bills, but why pick at low hanging fruit when you have a ladder? This isn’t a boycott or anything, i’m just getting out my emotions in a way that maybe other people who feel the same can open up discussion about how they are feeling regarding to this company.

If you disagree, then that is fine. I am not trying to convince you to hate them, and i’d love to have a civil debate with you! If you agree, tell me how you’re feeling, or what you’d like to add to the discussion, i am all ears all the same. Again, thanks for listening to my Talking Points.

[vonbergerpants]

My hot take on the development of Caspar von Bergliez

I would never post this on Twitter because I would get roasted ALIVE.

So I'm putting it here instead.

Hot take: Out of all of the Black Eagles, Caspar goes through the most character development in non-Crimson Flower routes.

I'm not a CF hater - it has Problems, but I otherwise enjoy its side of things and adore the Black Eagles' found family dynamic. It's why they're my favorite house. However, there's a consistent theme I notice across fans, and that's that they either misunderstand Caspar, or ignore him altogether in favor of other characters. Not their fault, people have their notable faves.

But more often than not, I see people forget Caspar as a character. He gets benched, or his character is incredibly simplified and even mischaracterized. I see someone's take on his character and it's usually clear that they haven't even looked at all of his supports. I'm looking at you, people who think he does nothing but start fights and be stupid.

There's also the fact that he's not easy to recruit for anyone who didn't choose the Black Eagles house. Most people who don't pick the Black Eagles don't even bother recruiting him, because people don't usually train Byleth in brawling. You can immediately recruit folks without that requirement if they're at B support or higher, but Caspar's B support is locked behind the timeskip, so they don't get that chance.

So, Caspar tends to be very forgettable, which is a shame. This also means that they miss out on what is, in my honest opinion, the biggest part of his development:

The fact that outside of CF, he spends the mid-timeskip wandering Fodlan as a mercenary.

Most of the other Black Eagles either stay in their estates/territories (Linhardt, Bernadetta, Petra), or try to help those affected by the war (Dorothea). That's not to say they don't get their own growths from that but to me, they don't have as notable of an impact on their characters (and I love them all for varying reasons but that's another topic altogether). Ferdinand is actually another important case for very similar reasons to Caspar, but I'll get into that later.

But Caspar? He may be a second son, but he's still the son of a military leader. He's the son of the man who is leading most of the Imperial army to war, the very war that the Emperor started. The son of one of the biggest threats to Fodlan.

He leaves his house, wanders Fodlan, and no longer trains to get stronger to appease his father and those above him. He trains to survive and offer his services to those who need it. And what would people think when they see the Minister of Military Affairs' son wandering around? Those in the Empire will see a traitor. Those outside of it who recognize him will see an enemy, someone who is part of the problem. And he has to get around all of that just to survive. He has to work to make people trust him, he meets a variety of people who are dealing with so many different problems. And I know this is a lot of headcanon, but you can't admit that this isn't implied by the very nature of his wandering as an Imperial runaway. And he grows from this as a result. You could say he gains a lot of introspection and does a lot of soul-searching, because what else do you do for five years when you're basically homeless and wandering?

His post-timeskip lines really hit different when heard from non-CF routes. "I don't train for fun" is the biggest one for me. This is coming from someone who very much used to train for fun! He used to find joy in training, but now training has become a necessity. He becomes strong not just for himself, but for those that matter - the people being negatively affected by this war, friends and strangers alike. And he trains to survive until the reunion.

This doesn't even go into how much his definition of justice changes. It happens in both routes, yet it hits much harder outside of his own route, because you have the justice of fighting on the war's side by believing in its cause, and there's the justice of fighting against it due to the amount of people it's harming. Two different sides of the same coin where one clearly has him grappling with the meaning of it a lot more because it goes against the black and white morality he grew up believing in.

In fact, the support that has him grappling with what it means to do right the most is with Catherine, a character he can't have supports beyond C with in Crimson Flower!

This is the problem with the CF route in relation to Caspar's character; you don't get this development. His character stagnates because he simply becomes a follower of the war. There is no separation, no escaping just to live. He simply becomes a general. That's not to say he doesn't belong there, nor is this a commentary on whether CF is good or bad - this isn't about the route itself. It's about what it does for Caspar von Bergliez, compared to other routes.

This is also my main problem with Three Hopes - it completely denies Caspar that growth, both by not having an Academy phase, and by not having him gain the experience of having the option to not fight for the war (literally unrecruitable in other routes). Many Caspar fans that I know, myself included, love Caspar for that growth he gets outside of his own route, which is why making him unrecruitable in Three Hopes is such a tragedy for us.

Ferdinand is the only other character who noticeably benefits from a new perspective via how he spends his mid-timeskip in Three Houses. But I would say that the main difference between Ferdinand and Caspar is that Ferdinand has a defining character growth both in and outside of Crimson Flower (I enjoy him in both routes for different reasons!). Even in Three Hopes, Ferdinand really gets the spotlight for fantastic reasons and his growth from it all is amazing! And Caspar... just doesn't get that as much. To the point where he's just forgettable to most people.

Anyway. This has been the lengthy musings of a Caspar fan. Why I prefer him outside of his own route, and why I think it's a shame that more people don't see that. I hope you enjoyed this. Or if you didn't and you think I'm just wrong, um... sorry, I guess. :')

[thelonesomequeen]

Love all this discussion RE: acting/movies/agents, etc.

Way more fun (for me) than the fandom fighting.

Anyways, some random thoughts w/respect to Mr. Evans. The discussion about ensemble casting has been done, but one thing that struck me during the talk about Jeremy Strong is just how many talented actors in that general age group exist. I'll go with the around mid thirties all the way up to the getting a little crispy Leo D. (I'm kidding sort of with him--he's still 'young' per se, but I wish Scorsese had cast a younger actor in Killers of the Flower Moon). Fifty isn't really 'old' but it starts to show differently on people's physical form and thus IMO begins to change one's script offers. I digress.

So, in that mid-thirties to fifty cohort, think of some of the best actors world-wide and it's a larger group than in the past. Note: no scientific research was done to back up that claim. Some of that may be due to the Biz (FINALLY) very slowly beginning to bring in more diversity (keep going because you're not there yet, studios) and some of it could perhaps be to something discussed on your blog earlier-- the streaming networks?

Streaming has opened up eyes to more shows (along with socials like X/insta), IMO and despite the negatives to streaming, some actors may perhaps gain a bit of a following due to a show and that makes them a little more competitive when names are tossed around the table. That used to happen in the days of my grandparents (like the soap opera/or themed tv large cast shows) but it just seems like there's MORE now (almost too much more but again I digress).

Case in point--Regé-Jean Page is a fine enough actor, but w/o Bridgerton I wonder if he'd have made as quick a leap into other high profile discussions (like 007). I have to wonder if streaming has helped actors who have talent but being that it's so hard to get one's foot in the door having a vehicle helps to just plow through it because the viewers are behind the wheel saying, "hey pay attention to this guy, he's good!"

To me, for Chris that means that regardless of awards interest, anytime there is a role, there is a range of people whose names are also being considered--from Benedict Cumberbatch and the rest of the UK crowd to the homegrown talent like Austin Butler (younger but I'll hedge on him) to Lewis Pullman to Jake Gyllenhaal to the two Ryans among others. It's a tough field and always has been, but the 'relegation' tier between film and it's A list B list and television has been blurred more than in the past. Now you have Eddie Redmayne starring in not only the FB series and Oscar nominated roles in film, but once again appearing in the film/streaming category with The Good Nurse. If you're a solid talent, then you might have a miss here and there, but too many strikes at the plate and you may get sent to the minors. It's just my opinion and sure I don't know what the man thinks, but it's his life and I'm a fan of film and actors/actresses so I'll give most anything a view, regardless of critics/general sentiment. I sat through Aloha recently because I had missed it the first go round and I'm a fan of Emma Stone but yeah, that was a hot mess of a plot that was.

Sorry for the length. TLDR: Chris is in a competitive business and he'll have to figure out what he wants if he hasn't done so already (not like I have the man in my contacts) and go from there.

*Side note: I almost ended up with an entire paragraph on the MCU but that really deserves its own discussion and I've clogged up your ask box enough with this soapbox oratory on Chris and the competition.

This is actually a very interesting take, thank you! 🧜🏻‍♀️

[keeloves]

Winx Club Head canons: Workout Edition.

As you guessed by the title, I am going to give my head canons on what the Winx Club characters I will start with the girls first, and I will put them in order of how they are introduced. The head canons are inspired by my Boyfriend’s @thewickedmerman​ redesigns, and each girls' personalities and their powers. The inspiration for the head canons also come from The Owl House and the movie Tarzan. 

Flora Magical Flowers: Fairy of Nature

I always feel like Flora gets nerfed or knocked out in the first few minutes of a fight. As a nature fairy I feel as though she has the potential to be one of the most powerful fighters. Her workouts would look very similar to Willow Park’s from The Owl House, she would do battle ropes, jump rope, and rope climbing and weightlifting. 

A 20 second clip of Willow’s workouts. Her workouts are actual workouts and I believe you would see a lot of Cross Fit workouts. Most of us think of Flora as dainty, very girly and wouldn’t be very strong. However I love the idea of there being this whole other side to Flora who could punch through a brick wall if she needed too. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZEkXDywmRU

Tecna Digital Powers. Fairy of Technology

Because I don’t really see Tecna being hardcore because I picture her being the surveillance for the team similar to what Barbara Gordon does as Oracle and what Wade does in Kim Possible. However, as a Winx Member who has to fight a lot I think her workouts would consist of weight training, slight cardio and I also think she would take a lot of self-defense lessons. 

Musa Rhythm and Tunes: Fairy of Music. 

As the Fairy of Music, it only makes sense that Musa is a dancer. She does ballet, hip hop and some tap. She is also great at martial arts. I know it seems stereotypical of me to put the one Asian Character in Martial Arts however a lot of moves in Martial Arts are similar to ballet. She would do a lot of cardio in her workouts and strength training and she would be a skater both ice and roller skating/blading.

To give you an idea of what her workouts would look like or how they would go here is a clip of Black Belt Ballet Dancer. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tXtj5d3l4Hk

Stella The Sun & The Moon: Fairy of the Sun and Moon.

Her workouts would consist of Hot Yoga, regular Yoga, Spin Classes, swimming  Pilates, and some cardio. These workouts just seem the most appropriate for Stella. She is one of those people who wants to feel as good as they look. She focuses mainly on weight training because of the fact weight training can help sculpt the body similar to how artists chisel away at a statue. 

Aisha Magic Shapes and Shifting Tides Fairy of Fluids or Waves.

As a Water Fairy and due to her being the most Athletic Aisha’s workouts would consist of swimming, water skiing surfing, skating of all kinds but mainly ice skating. Aisha as shown in the actual show is the most athletic of the girls. With her morphix she could make a lot of makeshift workout gear and this is proven in the show where she made gym equipment out of her Morphix powers. I also believe this is why she is the best fighter in the show. She is a take action kind of gal. I also see her doing a lot of water aerobics.  

Bloom Fairy of the Dragon Flame: And a Fire Burning Deep Inside.

Due to her being from Earth, and the fact she rides a bike, her workouts consist of mountain biking, rock climbing, going for runs and I can even picture her joining a CrossFit gym. I also think Bloom would be into Hot Yoga and regular Yoga

To conclude these are only head canons but I feel like each workout is fitting to each girl. If you disagree, please be respectful and I would love to hear your guy’s opinions. The pictures I used are taken from this post https://at.tumblr.com/thewickedmerman/winx-club-as-specialists/s4oml0zjwrhi

Ranking them on Least to Most Athletic (Order maybe subject to change) 

Tecna

Flora

Stella

Musa

Bloom

Aisha

[kingsansa]

Russian!Jon

Excuse me miss, May we have another? 🥺

One for the road

word count: 705

tags: hockey player x figure skater, russian!jon, hooking up, getting together

The first night she spent in Minnesota, it was so cold that she wouldn’t have been surprised to wake up and find that her boobs had frozen off in the middle of the night and that her left one was laying in Jon’s open palm.

Against all odds—his broken heater and aggressive cuddling—Sansa lived to see another sunrise.

“The first time I saw you, you were running around the village half naked in the middle of winter,” Jon said amusedly, “Now you hate the cold?”

She had nothing against the cold. She grew up in Winterfell, Idaho. All of her life, she lived, breathed, slept, and ate cold. Along with a working heater. Carpeted floors. A clawfoot tub to take a long hot bath in.

Basic amenities, in her opinion.

“I had just gotten out of a hot tub, and I was outside for two minutes max,” Sansa retorted, “And I had on a robe! You have no excuse for living like this!”

Behind her, his firm chest rumbled with what was definitely laughter, and she would have elbowed him if it didn’t mean letting go of the mug of coffee warming her hands.

He gestured to the fire in front of them. “I have fireplaces, do I not?”

“You wouldn’t need them if you bothered to have your heater fixed.” She muttered.

Jon sighed at that, as if she exasperated him. His hands stole underneath one of her many layers of clothing. His, because when she packed, she was under the assumption this hook up would be occurring in a house with central air.

“You are a big baby.” He said to her, nipping at the nape of her neck.

The next time he asked her to come to one of his home games—told her, really, with a screenshot of flight times and ticket prices—she came prepared, but there was no need. The heater was fixed.

The floors were another problem, but not a huge one necessarily. Hardwood everywhere, as befitted his cabin-like luxury home. She brought her favorite fuzzy slippers, and clumsily tried her best to slide into them in the dark before bathroom trips, hissing when she inevitably missed and her toes grazed the icy floor. The next time she came after that, there was a rug in front of the bed, just like the ones in the entertainment rooms and in front of the fireplaces.

(Since March, Sansa has had no less than 16 orgasms by a fireplace, but this is completely unrelated.)

When the Watch got eliminated from the playoffs in April—the one home game he asked her not to come to—he came to stay with her for the very first time, since the season was over. She introduced him to all of the little wonders Winterfell had to offer: what was left of the snow, rolling mountains, clean fresh air, the best hot chocolate in the world, and her.

But those first three days, their world was confined to the slip and slide of her silk sheets, the cherry wood of the kitchen table, the white upholstery of her sofa, even the top of her laundry machine. The pink clawfoot tub inside of her bathroom.

“Orange blossom,” He read the label on the jar of tangerine colored crystals, mouth twisted in dismay.

Half in his lap, Sansa kissed his cheek. “You smell delicious already.”

He grunted, “I smell like a flower.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I am not a flower.”

“You’re right,” She teased, looping her arms around him as she deepened her voice. “You are strong man. Built like ox.”

Jon scowled in full, “I do not talk like that.”

When she only laughed harder, he splashed her, but she didn’t go anywhere. She only wiggled closer to him, and he didn’t try to fight her all that hard.

“You are annoying,” He said to her.

“No,” She giggled, smug, “I am malyshka.”

His face softened at that, even as a blush crept up his neck. Then he kissed her, and she wasn’t laughing anymore.

That night when they were in front of the fireplace, it was hers, and as she straddled his face, just over his mouth, she was so happy that she had carpet here too.

[quillsanddaydreams]

i don't like you

james potter x reader

—author's note: This was a story from my main that I adored so I thought why not rewrite it? The plot is the same, my ability to tell a story however, has changed. James and you do not like each other. Not even a bit. I hope you enjoy ;) Please do leave a comment, it makes my day.

—warning(s): couple of harmless pranks, slytherin! gender neutral!reader (pronouns aren't used).

—word count: 3,431

Groaning, you got up and squinted to make out the details of your dorm. Shouts and rushing made your head thump. You slowly realized a god-awful smell was filling up your room, quicker than you could think. Squeezing your nose shut, you rushed out. Other Slytherins were alongside you, you could hear coughing all around. Your eyes pricked with tears, your throat felt raw. Seeing a very familiar messy dark-haired boy run away jeering; you sensed rage gripping your form like a vice.

Third time. It was the third time the same week that Potter and the elder Black brother had pranked you all. Except it wasn’t funny anymore. That was what pranks were supposed to be right? Something that made everyone laugh along? Looking towards Elodie who was clenching her eyes shut at the sensation, you made a plan in your mind. You knew it was crazy. But when did that ever stop you? James had never conversed with you. Nor you, him. Yet it was clear that he did not like Slytherins. Not one bit.

-♡♡♡-

James yawned, stretching his limbs for a new day. Scrunching his nose, he felt a flowery scent attack him. Maybe it was just Sirius with one of his experiments. Shrugging, he got up and into the shower. That day he had transfiguration, charms, and astronomy. Thankfully nothing with the snakes, they might still be sour about the prank they pulled yesterday. Getting out of the washroom, he hummed to himself as he passed Peter who was still fast asleep. Remus was asleep and Sirius was furiously scribbling on his homework. Always finishing at the last moment.

He didn’t realize the uniform he was putting on until he looked at himself in the mirror. And boy oh boy did he panic. Eyes widening almost comically, he rummaged through his wardrobe, everything a dark green color with silver accents. A note fell at his feet.

“Dearest Marauders,

Take this beautiful gift of green robes from me. I know not all of you deserved this, but then again, I didn't feel like any of you should be left behind. I know how much you love us, Slytherins. Why not showcase it?

With love,

(Y/n) (Y/l/n)”

“Sirius! Remus!” he called out. “Wormtail!”

Sirius didn’t even look up from his parchment, Remus let out a grunt in response. The only answer he got was a faint ‘what’ from the shared bathroom.

“Mates listen to this,” James said firmly, reading the letter out loud. That got their attention. “Our robes are all green. Vivid Slytherin green!”

Remus got up suddenly, with wide eyes rushing to check his almirah. He groaned loudly on finding them in the same predicament James foretold grass-like and smelling heavily of flowers. Sirius however, started crackling.

“What?” James bellowed, his nostrils flaring.

“Well, the sarcasm in that letter is…” He snorted, stopping himself seeing James’s frown. James shook his head as Remus glared at them both.

“This has a strong one-week dye,” he said, punctuating each word, infuriated. “There’s no way it can be removed before the expected time. Why should I suffer for all the things you two do?”

“And I am not suffering?” James quipped back as Remus just shook his head, huffing, and went back to his bed. James looked at Sirius who didn’t look worried at all.

“What? Aren’t you bothered at all?” James asked.

“I look great in everything,” he replied shrugging, making James want to punch him.

He dressed up quickly after, dashing out of the dorm towards the great hall. Ignoring the looks of the students from around and the snickers he looked for you amidst the Slytherin table. It was infuriating, how casually you ate your breakfast, almost oblivious. Stalking towards your place, he cleared his throat grabbing your attention. Your eyes sparkled amusedly, taking in his appearance.

“Why the hell did you do this?” he demanded.

“Now, that’s not a way to talk about the gift I gave you,” you said, batting your eyelashes as he scowled at you. You muttered a spell under your breath, waving your wand slightly before continuing. “I worked hard, you know?”

“You Slytherins are the best thing to walk on this planet!” he shouted before he could stop himself. His eyes grew large. Everyone’s attention now seemed to be on your table.

“Thank you, I know,” you smirked, challenging him. He narrowed his eyes on you.

“You put a speaking charm on me didn’t you?” he hissed as you put on an innocently sweet expression.

“Well, I thought you needed some help with words,” you prompted, getting better reactions than you hoped for. James growled, jumping up and down in annoyance. You tried not to laugh. Did. But the corners of your mouth turned up anyways. He looked like an idiot. The giggle you let out grabbed his attention, his cheeks turning a rosy red.

“I don’t like you,” he said in a rather squeaky voice.

“I don’t like you,” you retaliated. James hated himself for thinking the laugh you let out looking adorable. Anger, which was more of a frustration gawned on his skin. He knew exactly what he was going to do next. Giving you a sickly sweet smile, he enjoyed the slight shiver that went through your arm. Let the prank war begin.

-♡♡♡-

You rushed out of the bathroom, vexed. It had been a long exhausting day and this was the last thing you needed. Your skin was tinted green. Bright neon green. Elodie stared at you in stupor.

“What happened?” she asked and you couldn’t help the raucous whine that escaped your lips.

“I don’t know, okay? I was in the shower and after using soap, my skin turned freaking green,” you hissed as Elodie tried to calm you. You handed her a small piece of paper. “Oh and look what I found beside the shampoo bottle.”

Dear (Y/n),

A gift from me, to showcase your pride in your house. You could thank me later.

James.

P.S. This gift in no way means I’ve started liking you. I don’t.

“James. James did this; that bastard!” you said, nostrils flaring as Elodie rubbed your back.

“Well, it’s just hands and legs…”

“I'm gonna get back at him. Just watch me.”

Your jaw clenched. You knew just what you were gonna do. James started a fight with the wrong person. And you didn’t like him. At all.

-♡♡♡-

You were reading your book when you saw James pacing towards you, from the corner of your eye. Trying to keep a straight face, you fixed your gaze on the book in your hand. Yet you couldn’t help the twitch your mouth gave as he stood right in front of you, folding his arms.

“Wow,” he breathed through clenched teeth. You looked up.

“Real mature of you,” he said in a baby’s voice. It sounded like he pronounced everything through his nose. You made an effort not to start crackling right then.

“Well, one of us had to be, right?”

“Yeah. And giving me the baby voice makes you the adult.”

“I’d think so, yes.” You said brushing his hair. They were surprisingly soft. James glared at you.

“I don’t like you.” He squeaked as you raised an eyebrow.

“I thought we already established that. I don’t like you either boy,” You said, letting out a laugh.

-♡♡♡-

Adjusting your cap, you pulled your books closer to you. It was like everyone was staring at you. Specifically how stupid you looked. A whistle caught your attention. James, it had to be. When you turned towards the sound, you were sadly proved right.

“I like your cap,” he commented, clicking his tongue.

“Geez. Thank you. Just bought it,” you said, threateningly. Take one step James, I dare you; you thought. He didn’t get the message.

“I wonder how it would look on me,” he said, taking a step towards you. You hissed.

“Sorry, not gonna let you borrow it,” you tried to say in a normal tone, but it came out quite high pitched. James dared to grin.

“What if I just…” he said, coming closer as you took a step back, glowering at him in a warning. Not that he took it. He snatched the cap from your head as the long white hair fell. They reached your feet.

“James, give it back,” you warned and he put it on his head.

“Nope,” he said, his eyes full of mischief. You hesitated at his expression, he looked as candid as a child. Maybe you never noticed it, his hair fell round in pretty curls, framing his face. James winked, making you break out of your reverie.

“I think,” he said thoughtfully. “I think I’m going to keep this cap with me, I quite like it. If you want it back, you’re gonna have to take it from me.”

James took a step back as your eyes dilated. He turned around and started sprinting in that direction.

“James!” you shouted, chasing him.

People around you bolted aside, gasping at the scene. A ghostly white-haired student chasing after James as he chortled. It had been going for quite some time and everyone wondered who would win. Few in the favour of James, who had been pranking ever since he set foot in Hogwarts; a few for you since you were a Slytherin and Slytherins never lose. Others just shook their heads, wishing they would get it over with already the cat and mouse game was becoming rather tiring. No one however had the courage to raise their opinions out loud, lest they got involved in the prank war.

-♡♡♡-

“James," you said calmly, though the atmosphere made you anything but. Thick hot fumes rose from all around you making beads of sweat form on your forehead. "James, this doesn’t go in. We have to stir it first.”

“Why don’t you do it then? Little miss know-it-all” he snided. You looked at him fiercely. Slughorn had paired the two of you together for the next project and it couldn’t be more of a disaster. Only if he could just listen.

“I would if you let me,” you pointed out, finally taking over the shared pot. James watched you take a few breaths before starting to work on the potion. Muttering for ingredients from him now and then, you stirred the concoction. Soon, it started to show the exact signs given in their books.

James couldn't help but stare at you as you worked, humming to yourself all the while. You seemed cute like that, bending over the book, occasionally muttering to yourself. His face heated up when you caught his gaze. Luckily he could blame it on the heat.

“Could you cut some beetroots for me?” you asked, ignoring the way he flushed. James nodded, chopping them to the required amount. The two of you finished up fairly swiftly after that.

"So," you started after Slughorn left. He had commented on your work and applauded you both. Happiness was evident from the smiles on your faces. "Library at 4?"

James grinned, giving you a thumbs up. He packed up his stuff before turning to leave. You couldn't help but stare at his retreating figure, thinking, maybe he wasn't so bad after all. Shrugging, you shook away the thought and went your own way. There were things you had to get done that day.

-♡♡♡-

As time passed, the thought started becoming more predominant. He wasn't so bad, your mind reminded you time and time again. The more you started to know James, the more you believed in it. Constant teasing and bickering wasn’t something that became unheard of between the two of you. But it was more lighthearted now… almost as if you were friends crackling over a shared joke. James had somehow caught your eye again, in a completely different way.

It seemed you were noticing new things about him, like how he didn’t look at you with hatred. Come to think of it, was it even ever ‘hate’? Yet there was something soft about the way he gazed at you now, gentle even— you couldn’t put your finger on it. You had come to enjoy his goofy personality, the smile he gave when his eyes were light with mischief. Knowing where these musings led, you had tried your best to beat them down. What was it that you did not try? Remembering every single detail that made you despise him once, all those times your blood boiled at the prank he pulled but nothing— nothing ever worked and your heart still fluttered every time he complimented you.

Was it that bad an idea though? Liking James?

You shivered, pulling your sweater closer to you. Walking had failed to heat your body the way it always did and you reckoned that your deliberation also had something to do with that. It wasn’t about you liking him, your mind prompted, it was about whether he could feel the same way. And if you knew something, you knew that you couldn’t take the answer to be no. The skip in your step halted, and you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips.

Path to the library couldn’t have been more daunting. That was until you saw James and Lily around the corner. Talking, laughing, and standing too close to be called friends. Evans, the one girl James was head over heels for, the one girl you never paid attention to much.

It was like the final shoe dropping. James and you didn’t like each other. People knew that you did as well. It was time you believed it too. Your stomach twisted up at the sight, your mood souring. You turned, walking away.

“Oi!” James called out to you, apologizing to the students he bumped into. You brisked forward, hoping to make it to your dorm. It didn’t work, James ran to catch up with you. Damn his long legs.

“Stop fucking running,” he huffed on reaching you. “Where are you going? We have a study session. You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

You gritted your teeth.

“I was heading to the library but you and Evans seemed quite busy, so I thought against it,” you said, albeit aggressively. Jealousy was never a good color.

“We were just talking for a moment,” James explained. “I want us to complete the project first though.”

He looked at you, confused. It was hard controlling your anger right then. You couldn’t help the dry laugh that escaped your lips.

“Of course,” you said in a temper. “The faster we finish up the project, the faster you can get rid of me, right? Because you don’t like me.”

James’ smile dropped. Sadness gave way to rage. Of course, you still thought that even after all the time he spent with you.

“Yeah. I don’t like you,” he hissed, gritting his teeth. “So let’s complete the project, shall we? To get rid of each other?”

You looked away. It was the last thing you wanted to hear. You yearned for him to tell you otherwise, to apologize for his words, and to reassure you that it wasn’t so. That you two were something. Friends, companions, anything but this. Yet the bigger part of you told you that he was right. And you were nothing to him.

“Yeah, sure.”

-♡♡♡-

The following study session was tense. You two never worked quietly. Jokes, laughs, and incessant chatter filled the air when you were together. James had regretted his words as soon as they came out of his mouth. He watched your expression fall and a wall build up around you. Your eyes hadn’t met his since. It ate him up. Somehow he didn’t know how to break the bubble he created.

He hated seeing you close off to him.

You heaved a sigh checking the last lines you’d written and then looked at the clock. It had been two hours.

“I think we should stop. There are just two pages left, we can do them tomorrow and you’ll be free,” you said, packing up your things. James opened and closed his mouth as you picked up your bag.

“Hey, wait!” he said as you turned towards him.

“I didn’t mean to, “ James started, but you cut him off.

“James, it’s alright,” you said, taking a deep breath blinking away the tears that emerged. “I understand. You don’t like me, I don’t like you and we’re stuck together for some time. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

James sucked in a breath. That wasn’t right. At all.

“But—“

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you,” a voice came and you shifted to see Elodie. You looked over at James, whose eyes pleaded you to stop. But you couldn’t.

You left the library, walking towards your friend leaving behind the boy who stood transfixed at his spot. Why did he feel like he was losing everything? He grudgingly moved his feet towards the common room, your thoughts plaguing his mind. James heard a shout behind him, twisting to see Lily jog up to him.

“James, I was wondering,” she began biting her lip. “Maybe we could sneak out for some butterbeers today? It’s freezing and the snow looks heavenly.”

James found himself shaking his head. His mood was far too spoiled for anything.

“Not today, Lily,” he answered. “I’m tired.”

“Oh, I meant it as a date, you know?” Lily added hopefully. James considered her for a moment. It was everything he had wished for years. Yet he couldn’t feel the happiness that should have come with it. He wanted, no— he needed someone else, someone who made him far giddier. He needed you.

It was like a bolt striking him. He had never been so sure of anything else. Unable to keep the grin off his face, he spoke his next words in a rush.

“Lily, I’m sorry but I can’t,” he shouted, sprinting towards the dungeons. Running through the rather empty corridors he saw the snow which coated the grounds. His breath came out in puffs as he urged himself to move faster. He stopped when something caught his eye. You. Standing out in the snow, looking at the sky with a smile.

Moving towards you, he conjured up a snowball and threw it on your back. Your eyes widened in shock as you jumped, looking towards him.

“What now James?” you snapped.

He conjured up yet another ball and threw it at you. Your eyes grew larger and you glared at him.

“I wanted to say something,” he said as you conjured up a ball and threw it at him in response. He hissed at the icy sensation.

“Then say it.”

“I don’t want to get rid of you,” he said, throwing a snowball at you as your teeth clattered at the sensation. You threw a snowball in return, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Then stop acting as you do.”

He threw yet another ball at you.

“You make me act like that,” he stated. You threw a huge one in response.

“I make you act like an idiot?”

“Yes, you drive me crazy,” he said, throwing some snow at you as you grunted.

“Then why don’t you leave me alone?” you huffed as he threw yet another ball at you, making you cough and splutter.

“Because I can’t.”

“Why?” you asked, throwing a ball at him.

“Because I can’t leave the best thing that happened to me,” he said, making you stop. You stalked towards him and poked his chest with every word you spoke.

“I'm the best thing that happened to you? What is this? Some kind of sick prank? You don’t even like me,” you sobbed, frustrated and angry. That was how he made you feel. Everything all at once. James didn’t know how to answer you so he just took your hand away and cupped your cheek with his other one, leaning in to kiss you. Your eyes fell shut as feeling his lips against yours. You grabbed his shirt pulling him closer feeling his arms tighten around your hips, sucking his bottom lip. When you pulled away you both caught your breath.

“I promise those are the truest words I’ve ever said,” he whispered, his hair messier than usual. He cradled your face, pressing his lips against your forehead. You crossed your arms.

“I still don’t like you,” you said in faux anger. James let out a teary chuckle.

“I don’t like you either,” he replied, smiling.

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill ​ which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

[sasukesun]

if you're still doing character ask game i'd love to see your takes on yamanaka ino!

sure dear shy anon

favourite thing about them: i love how confident she is, she’s comfortable in her own skin, i love that she’s emotionally strong and capable (how she managed to connect the whole shinobi army, something no one did before, right after she lost her father) and how she befriends people and uplifts them… i also love her character design especially blank period

least favourite thing about them: how she’s under utilised ig

favourite line: “it’s not a matter of can or can’t, i’m doing it”

brotp: inoshikacho

otp: none i guess? she’s into pretty gay guys so that’s a bit tough

notp: inosaku cause she deserves better, i honestly don’t like saiino nor sasuino

random headcanon: i think she helped naruto when he wanted to start gardening since she owns a flower shop and knows better about gardening than him. i also like to think she’d be able to develop her own medicine and poisons, considering how much she knows about plants

unpopular opinion: ino should have won her battle against sakura during chunin exams, it’s clear who was superior in the fight. also, inosaku isn’t a good ship, they are both straight and sakura is terrible towards ino, they aren’t even good friends to say at least and it’s not ino’s fault

song i associate with them: anything confident hot girl summer

favourite picture of them: any pic where she looks like this

[chipper-smol]

*cracks my writing knuckles bc my artistic patience isn’t enough to fill the ambiance and tone properly*

2K WORDS. JUST FOR YOU GUYS

Was their ire and spiteful nature exclusively directed at the Pale King? Some retainers of the palace would say yes. Others would object and say it extended to the Five Great Knights as well since Ogrim had yet to hold onto his charm for longer than a day and Hegemol continued to wield a pole instead of a mighty hammer.

Well if you asked the source, they would simply stare at you silently, but you might get the impression that they had strong opinions (a wild thing for a vessel to have) on a few individuals other than the King.

Which is why the Feral Vessel is currently running for their life with the Great Nailmaster Sly hot on their back.

“Give it back you impetuous brat!” Sly roars behind them as he bounces off the walls at unfathomable speeds. Ghost, now going by Feral, is only surviving thanks to their knowledge of Sly’s moves from the Godseeker’s Pantheons. Sly’s jumps are still wildly unpredictable to them, but their now longer legs help them meet the speed needed to dodge the flea’s grabs.

Why are they doing this in the first place?

Well because when a rule is made that the Feral Vessel isn’t allowed a nail in the palace, or in any location in Hollownest, the only reasonable way to follow that rule, if you are said Feral Vessel, is to obtain nails of increasing ridiculous sizes. They first took their sibling’s old nail after the Pure Vessel grew out of it, and then they continued from there. They thought of borrowing Sheo’s nail for a day, but they quickly realized after finding the three Nailmasters that they were still the three Nailstudents. They were adorable but small and didn’t have their nails.

So Sly was there and Feral had some lingering rage left over from the Pantheons and well, the decision wasn’t hard to make. Two aspids with one stone. Now they were finding out that conceptualizing that plan and executing that plan were completely different things.

How do they get him off their back!? They already tried losing him through the maze that is the White Palace but they could not build any distance between them and Sly to make the endless corners and hallways useful. They need something- anything-

A-HA! One of Hornet’s web traps! (ingenious sticky things that clung ruthlessly to the clothing of the royals that walked this palace.)

Feral musters up their soul to push themself into one last burst of speed. They dash over the top of the trap just as they hear Sly zooming right at their back. With a twist of their leg and a firm grip on the oversized nail they spin at the last moment and swat the flea with his own nail into the poorly hidden nest of sticky silk.

The indignant yell of rage made that whole marathon worth it.

Not wanting to squander their momentary freedom from Sly’s wrath, they quickly turn and hightail it out of there.

Left. Straight. Left. Right. Straight. Straight. Up. Up. Right. Left-

That should be enough, right? Feral slows down and leans against a wall to catch their breath. Great Pale Beings they have not felt that much adrenaline since the first time they danced with Grimm. They were safe, for now. Feral straightens up, adjusts the greatnail onto their back and looks around.

...

They glance back from where they came.

Where... is this? They know the palace like the back of their hand, even without the buzzsaws. This corridor isn’t familiar. There is only one open doorway with a shining pale light gently leaking into the tiled hallway. Curious yet cautious they approach. They had a sharp greatnail after all.

They step into the light and freeze as they see the towering form of the Queen leaning like a drifting tree over a lush bush. Her back was turned to them, maybe they could-

“Vessel,” her voice, even though a whisper is loud enough to seem like she’s speaking at normal volume. Feral had noticed that with all of the higher and pale beings they’ve known. They all whisper.

Still, they had conflicting feelings toward their mother that they hadn’t yet put into words. They were avoiding her. They still want to avoid her.

“Come, garden with me,” she says, not lifting her head an inch from her work. Feral itches to disobey, but the urge feels wrong. It doesn’t carry the same gleeful note that comes with directly ignoring the King’s orders. They don’t have a solid reason to dislike their mother and it doesn’t feel right to force one either.

It’s not often they feel hesitant, but the Queen has a fae-like air about her. She could hide cruel remarks in what seem to be compliments. They had seen her pick apart arguments to the letter until her opponent had nothing else to say. She wields her words like she would a nail, and a battlefield of diction is an area Feral is massively lacking in. Hopefully she doesn’t want much. Hopefully she wants them to retrieve some confusing herb or something.

Carefully, they enter the room— a green house— and slowly make their way over to the White Lady’s side. They peer over at what she’s tending to. It looks like a bundle of dozens of little blue buds. Her hands glow underneath and the flowers respond by drifting up gradually and opening their delicate petals.

Feral watches quietly.

“They are not what they make themself appear to be,” she says after a long pause. Feral tenses. She reaches to her side where a basket of tools hangs from a kingsmould that Feral didn’t realize was there and picks up a humorously small pair of scissors compared to her massive hands. She carefully begins to snip the bases of those small flowers, collecting them in one hand as they fall, “My senses may be fading as things do with time, but I am not yet so blind to see that they know things that they should not.”

Feral never tried to hide their emotions and personality when they emerged from the Abyss, but they found themself smothering their nervousness before it could leak out of them.

“… they are nervous?” The Queen finally turns to look at Feral with her slightly glassy blue eyes, “I did not intend my words to be a threat, but their reaction proves my thoughts correct.”

Feral maintains as much eye contact as they can before turning their gaze to the floor. The full force of a pale being’s attention wasn’t a thing most bugs could endure. She watches them. Silent. Considering.

“It is odd. I have wanted children of my own for so long, yet what I have received from this world is curious,” she turns back to the blue flowers and snips two more into her hand, “one offspring that is meant to be empty, yet wishes to be a child, and one offspring that acts like a child, yet has experienced more than a child should have.”

Feral feels an odd twisting in their gut. They want to leave, yet they now also want to stay. The Queen is perceptive, that was never a doubt and perhaps another reason why they avoided her. The fear of being known. Yet… now they are known and it’s more of a relief than anything. They slowly look back to her as she places the scissors back in the basket.

“I have wondered why, but I cannot come to a conclusion that satisfies me,” she places three flowers in her spare hand and begins to braid the stems, adding flowers as the braids start becoming short.

“Why do they hold their branch as if it were the familiar handle of a nail? Even though they are forbidden from holding their own?” More flowers are added into the craft she is making. It’s beginning to look circular. Feral watches quietly.

“How do they know to get charms and spells on their own?” She glances over at them, but doesn’t meet their eyes. They sense her gaze on their horns. She looks back down at the flowers and makes some sort of adjustment.

"Why do they stare at things that are not there?” Feral’s throat tightens with that question- or observation?

The Queen finally finishes whatever is in her hands and takes a step over to the Feral Vessel and leans down with an alien-like grace. Feral blinks as she threads the circle of flowers over their horns to then rest right at the base of their horns. They do not know why she is doing this, but they would not dare fight it. They have no desire to.

Her hands drift down from their horns to their face to gently cup and hold. Their eyes gently flutter. The warmth from her root palms seep into their mask as if they were sitting in a hot spring. With the warmth comes a feeling of peace. Understanding. Their eyes close and before they can catch themself they lean into her touch. They miss how her eyes soften as she rubs one of her thumbs against their temple.

“I thought I had been mistaken before, but I have noticed that their pranks on my beloved Wyrm have grown half hearted,” Feral’s chest sags in a mock-sigh and, not knowing why, they nod.

“Has the novelty of his frustrated yells gone stale?” They shake their head, shoulders lightly quivering as if laughing. They crack their eyes open to catch the end of a smile from their mother.

“Why is it then? Why have they lost their fire?”

Feral stays silent as that was all they can do, but the tightening of their brow and the way they pull away from the warm comfort of their mother’s hands speaks hundreds of unspoken words. They glance at their hands, clenching and unclenching them.

When they re-awoke at the bottom of the Abyss surrounded by the thousands of masks of their dead siblings they thought they had dream nailed the black egg at the bottom of the Abyss again, though they did not know how. Soon they realized after getting to the top alongside their sibling that it was not a dream, but reality. To their delight, they could act on their spans of anger and spite they had toward the Pale King.

They thought that once they had their fun they would go and defeat the Radiance by finding the Godseeker in the trash pit. They would scale the pantheons and destroy the infection before the Pure Vessel was sentenced to waste away in the Temple of the Black Egg. It was simple so they didn’t think hard about it.

Until they realized they didn’t have the dream nail. They stressed for a bit, but then thought they could go find the seer and ask for it again! When they made their way to the Resting Grounds however, her little burrow was nowhere to be seen. They truly panicked then, scouring Hollownest for any moths they could find, but the few ones they found were not the Seer. When they held up their, admittedly, crude drawings of the dream nail they were met with confused stares.

They felt scared, frustrated, anger, desperation and then numbness.

They had been trying to run away from these thoughts, but now they were back and plainly showing on their face for the Queen to read like a tablet. There is a long silence between them before her melody-like voice whispers once more.

“Do they know how to write?” She asks.

They shake their head. No. They barely knew how to read and that was from noticing patterns in the tablets and signs they stumbled across in Hollownest. The Queen stands up and with her Feral’s eyes follow.

“I will teach you my child. Come, and perhaps while you learn you may give me your name. Feral is such a harsh word to be called by.”

Feral watches the White Lady as she walks deeper into the greenhouse. Did she just… say she was going to teach them how to write? They would never have a voice to speak on their own with, but to have the power of script in their grasp…

Excitement sparks their step as they quickly run back to her side, looking up at her with such strong wonder that she can’t believe she ever doubted her offspring weren’t hollow. The crown of flowers bounce on their head with each eager step.

“Now it will take some time for us to get the right writing utensils, but perhaps the first thing you could tell me when you can write is how you got that massive nail on your back.”

[bumbleklee]

here are my hc… i apologize

Clara:

-She is everyone’s big sister! She naturally helps people, even if they don’t need it, and honestly really dependable.

-She takes after her father by overworking and helping those in need. Jean is like her role model of a job, so she equally gets all her bad habits

- She is truly a girlboss. Super energetic and outgoing. She is blunt and really forthright. LIke she if she isn’t good at horseback she will let you know in great detail. She aims to help the people of mondstadt.

-She would literally become second in command to Jean and next to become Grand Master. She is loyal to the people and it's to the point where they call her because they think she is a grandmaster.

-She is always seen with a winning smile no matter how dire. Keeping up morality is her strong suit.

-She definitely does have a teasing side don't get me wrong, SHe is seen as a bit sadistic because of his teasing, especially toward enemies. A master at fighting talk.

-She wields a big ass claymore and is crazy destructive. She was trained by Jean and Diluc, of course she is gonna be ballistically strong. Literally mastered all the weapons and now is trying to go even further with the claymore.

- I feel like she might have a small inferiority complex when it comes to Isaac because he excels greatly in elemental abilities and she envies that. THat is what pushes her harder. THey actually got into an argument and talked about both their insecurities and they definitely grew stronger from that. (might write something for this because i thought about it hard)

-She went from someone extremely brash and hot headed kid to a dependable person that all of Mondstadt looks up to.

Isaac:

-I like to think he is like Komi from Komi Can’t Communicate. He is really socially awkward but people look up to him that they kind just know what he wants (I guess more like the brother as he doesn’t need to speak for people to know)

-He is perceived as the quiet, calm composed boy; He is actually scared shitless and needed a pep talk from Mom and Sis to get him through it.

-He is extremely tender hearted, he doesn’t show it on his face much, but you can literally feel the soft radiating off of him sometimes

-He talks well when needed too, but won’t really if he doesn’t truly needs too

-Calla and Clara try to get him to talk more and he becomes friends with Nikolai. It's Nikolai being a destructive loud friend and Issac being the one that fixes shit. (I think Isaac accidentally whooped his ass and they became friends after that.)

-He definitely is super smart. He probably was taught by lisa and like absorbed her knowlege, so not is he like a fuckin destructive ass mage, but he likes to water the flowers with his mom on tuesday.

-Takes over Dawn Winery, Abyss mages are scared of this man elemental skill he is truly scary on the battlefield. He takes more of a healer role, but dps him will literally be the scariest thing.

-He is also insecure when it comes to Clara in a social aspect. He feels like he can't grow like she can. HE can learn from school, but he feels as though he can’t connect like she can. (Refer to Clara's things for the two sided argument.)

Calla:

-She is extremely observant. Like you could tell her something and she knew three days ago.

-She looks out for people in the most indirect blunt way. It sounds mean at first, but you soon realize how helpful it is. She gets a lot of thank you gifts.

-SHe is definitely more soft on the inside, she is just heavily guarded. She is actually a really simple person. She dresses really fancy and has really strong opinions but she is really easy to make happy. She likes thoughtful things; This is why she is really popular with the kids of Mondstadt inj the future.

-She never forgets, no matter what. Every promise she makes, every birthday, every anniversary, she has it all down by heart.

-She is like a mix of Eula and Albedo. SHe is quite aloof at times and really focuses on her job or task. But she cares in her own way. ANother Big sister type, but in the like the oldest of 5 types.

- She Doesn’t care about others' opinions and lives her life how she likes. Where life leads her she will handle it head first.

-She gives great advice. She is your best friend at any time. SHe can read everything like it was a book left wide open.

-She is perceived to only care for herself. A master at strategy able to read anything. She runs on logic and fact in a way. She can seem uncaring when she thinks it has no standing but she is actually thinking of ways to get the best outcome. She puts others before herself in her own silly way. SHe is actually optimistic , never thinking of a bad ending. She is confident that there will be a good one especially if you have her backing your thinking up.

-With close friends she is a lot more open about her feelings and thoughts. SHe was always blunt but she lets more out in her seasoning than “Just trust me”

-We love her and she loves you, now do as she says.

Nikolai:

-Loud ass motherfucker. Can I just say Childe 2.0 and everyone just nod and agree

-He gets his fighting spirit and childish demeanor. Taught by his father and watched by his mother he is a really strong and noble hearted boy. He has such kind eyes.

-Not smart gets himself in situations that seem borderline impossible but here he is, don’t worry he can get out...eventually…

-He has a limit to how much disrespect and rudeness he can take. HE is usually really kind and polite but he will go off and fight a bitch if needed.

-Jia is his childhood friend and thank lord he has her she keeps him alive. He has no brain cells but she has some.

-I don’t have a lot and I might add some more later but yea I'm tired...

Jia:

-She is polite and gentle. I see her as a very emotional girl, who is passionate about all the things she likes. She seems so introverted at first but once you get her going, you get her.

She gets easily flustered and is kind, but don't let that fool you. SHe gets dangerous fast and when that happens good luck with that.

-She is quite sentimental about things. She is seen as materialistic, but everything she gets she saves preciously. Maybe the dragon, but she is a bit of a hoarder.

-She is mature and acts like a elderly woman, this is why she gets so flustered because she tries to be hip and cool but her dad is literally a grandpa. This being said she describes things like a child wou;noise and big hand movement are necessary.

-She is a master of food because of xiangling and she cooks for Nikolai. She also makes Ganyu’s and Xiao’s lunches.

-STrong girl that beats up nikolai for being dumb just to then patch him up.

-SHe is dedicated and unmovable like a rock and you will not catch this girl lacking that's for sure,

IMTIRED BUT THANK YOU IF THERE IS ANY TYPOS MY BAD IM SO SLEEPY LOL

-🍞anon :)

this was so long but i loved every second of it 🥺

clara: she definitely went to dad as a kid and said she wanted to use a claymore too, so diluc had a smaller one made for her and taught her how to use it. she becomes a knight but diluc isn’t upset because she’s such a knight and he would feel bad if she didn’t become one. can see her as a like “hanging with the boys” kind of girl - doesn’t like drama or pettiness at all. probably just chills with isaac and his friends most of the time and teases them all about being nerd but would literally die for them in a heartbeat

isaac: my little baby <3 has an entire wall in his bedroom that’s just filled with books that people have given him throughout his life. i can definitely see him and clara having a huge argument one day about how they both feel like they don’t know each other anymore but they always reconcile. he loves his friends but sometimes he just needs some time to himself and will go on walks around mondstadt or spend time with dad (because dad is a quiet guy like himself)

calla: kaeya definitely spoiled her throughout her childhood and made her feel like the only girl in the world, so it was definitely an adjustment she needed to make back to reality. she cares for the people around her but doesn’t know how to show it all the time. she likes isaac better than clara though (at least when they’re older) and butts heads a lot with clara because they’re so different. but their dads definitely put a stop to it bc no way are they gonna let their kids fight like they did for so long

nikolai: you hit the nail on head. this emoji 👹

jia: very “girl next door”. she’s just kind and caring and respects everyone UNLESS you disrespectful her friends or family, then she goes off on you. but goes off on you in a way that makes you feel absolutely stupid because this girl is a tiny genius. she’s constantly picking up after nikolai though but he brings out the fun in her :). she gets along with isaac too and they’re constantly sharing books

[natsukitakama]

Being in relationship with Zeke Yeager would include

*looking respectfully* 

Author note : I know some people aren’t quite found of him and I can understand. But I know some of you simp for him (me too don’t worry). I hope you’ll enjoy this. 

i do not own that gif I found it on google so credit to the owner (if you know them please let me know)

Warning : mention of spoiler if you haven’t season 2, 3 et 4 / slight nsfw cause I’m going to hell / fluffy because we derserve it 

Masterlist 

Annoying. Not in a bad way but this man can’t shut up, he always has something to tell just because he loves seeing you getting flustered or angry because of him. 

That’s just how he is. He loves teases people and get the most of them. It’s even worse with his S/O 

Typically if you want to kiss him (private or in public won’t matter although he might prefers being private about his relationship) he would litteraly make you beg for it. « Couldn’t you wait until we’re home ? So needy Y/N » 

Since he was educated to be a leader he is pretty god at reading people’s body language and won’t hesitate to use it on you. 

Not a surprise here you barely got a fight : the man barely loses his temper and since he can read you like an open book he knows exactly what to do to avoid situation like this. 

Nonetheless it doesn’t mean he can’t provide every argument. So yeah times to times you two fight, most of the time because you know he is hiding something from you, and everytime you confront him about it he just brushes if off telling you, you’re being paranoid or something. 

Although he got a huge ego so yeah he might act as if he was smarter than you and would tell you so.

He is kinda mean and cold and even though he is trying his best to cherish you, sometimes he says things he shouldn’t tell. It ends up with you crying or trying not to (but he can tell) and just leave him. 

Man he hates it. Everytime he got to see his grandparents and everytime they scold him for being an assholes to you. 

And everytime he could come back to you with a gift either a book that you might be interest on, flowers or even jewellery if you are into that. 

He would apologize for being a dick to you

100% end up making sweet love just to be sure he is forgiven (also because he misses your touch but shhh he has a reputation) 

Don’t lie to him. He would know. As I said before he can read people and especially your body’s language. It took you a long time before owning his trust, don’t give him reason to not trust you : it you want to say something tell him.

He is pretty blunt himself so he won’t mind and actually would love it if you are confident and comfortable enough with him to talk about anything

Like I said earlier he might want to be cautious with your relationship, not because he is ashamed or anything but he knows that not everyone loves him and he is afraid that they might use you against him as a threat. He can’t tolerate that (also because he will betray his own army, he doesn’t want you to get hurt or worst because of him) 

Yeah because you’re not a part of his plan, he never talked about anything related to his plan. 

It might surprise you but I don’t think he is actually good at flirting. He is pretty blunt and not that subtle, he won’t go as far as to say « I think you’re hot » on your first meeting but still you will notice that he was more talkative with you. 

Maybe it’s a fantaisie of mine but I think he would love send you letters : he tends to be more sensual while writing. You always got a letter when you start your day at work and if he couldn’t manage to be with you that or even call you during work, he’ll send you another one with flower to apologize. 

But he can be smooth when he wants to, especially when he is teasing you : that’s his way of flirting with you. He can’t help but feel like he has to tease you just to see you with a pout on your face. (His heart melt everytime he saw you like this) 

He tends to be more rough with his teasing if he is dating a male than a women, his grandma raise him to treat women like queen so he will oblige. 

He daydreams a lot about you, sometimes it’s just about you laying on his chest sleeping like a baby, he could literally feel your soft hair on his hands as he stroke them. Sometimes it’s more sensual, as he could easily remember the touch of your skin against his hands, the whimper that left your lips each time he is kissing you, sucking you, bitting you, the way you gripped his shoulder as he was pouding into your core relentless. 

It didn’t help that everything seemed to remember him of you, when he is drinking is usual coffee at 10 AM he got a memory of you cooking his breakfast whistling softly as you were happy to cook some meal for your man. When is having his tea after his lunch time the flower scent coming from his tea makes him of your perfume. His book and paper on his desk, reminds him of you when you’re overworking, claiming that your mess make actually sense for you and that no you weren’t just too lazy to clean up. 

If he claims himself to be good when it came to emotion and to keep everything for himself, his grand-parent noticed something about his behavior. He seemed more clean and presentable (not that it wasn’t the case but he wasn’t the one to take extra attention of his looks), he was more polite always trying to not swear or at least not that much, they noticed him looking somewhere as if he was looking for someone. 

Sometimes he calls you just to annoy his superior (cause he knows they survey him), just to talk about anything but especially to talk trash about some embarrassing things. But since he never used a name or something they never know if he was talking to you or someone he just slept with. Occasionally he would talk about embarrassing story about this superior, he knows he won’t be punished otherwise it would be a proof that he was telling the truth earlier. 

He is possessive not like Porco or Eren where they would let their anger scare the poor people trying to talk to you, he is smart enough to know when someone is hitting on you or when someone is just speaking to you. But still, he doesn’t like when he sees somebody being too touchy on you. How dare they ? He is commander, smart, handsome, strong and that poor people think they could challenge him ? 

During time like this after, kicking that poor person out of your way, he would take you home. Don’t ever think you leave this house, he won’t stop loving you until you can’t walk and the only thing you could remember is his own name. 

Be careful, Zeke is patient very patient. 

If you think he won’t edge you until you’re crying mess for release you’re wrong. He tends to tease you and make you beg to cum, so when he feels like he has to remind you who you belong to, one word can describe your night with him : intense (yeah because not only will he edge you but he’ll also overstimulate you and if you’re crying because it’s too much he would just look at you as if he was surprised « oh ? Too much ? But I thought you wanted to cum ?". 

He doens’t want children for multiple reason and he won’t like if you keep ask him about it : he doesn’t want to be a father please respect his decision. (He would try to explain to you his opinion so it won’t appear as a selfish decision) 

Some nights, he feels guilty for not explaining to you his plan, what he wants for future but he knows it’s for your own sake. You couldn’t take it and he is aware that he is not mean to last forever and than one day you would wake up and he won’t be there for you, he is already acting like a an asshole because he is taking your love while he knows he would die eventually (quicker than you he hopes), he won’t put any pressure because of his plan. 

[captainfightingflower]

(HEAVY TW!!!) Likely my hottest Jackbox Games take yet: Cookie & Schmitty should've never reappeared after YDKJ: FS & TMP 2 respectively.

I'll start this off by saying that i do not hate either of the two as characters, the reason why i think that their appearances should've ended at You Don't Know Jack: Full Stream & Trivia Murder Party 2 is because it's a perfect karmatic ending for them do to how terrible they are as people.

Now i'm going to bring up a lot of heavy topics in this hot take, because Cookie Masterson & Josh "Schmitty" Schmitstinstein are just...terrible human beings who have done and do a lot of fucked up things, a lot of it isn't even played humorously (if you could even call writers put in humorous). If topics such as manipulation and abuse strum the wrong cords in you, or if you treasure these characters and don't want them potentially ruined for you after hearing all the fucked up things they have done in the game's cannon, i heavily suggest skipping this post for your own sake, but if you're okay with the above: click "Keep reading" to continue.

Cookie is manipulative, using his emotions and words to get what he wants, whenever he wants it, with little to no repercussions. He was able to go first in You Don't Know Jack: The Ride when he was supposed to go last with a trapdoor and complaining. He's able to get interns to tend to his every need with threats and his charisma, to the point of him being able to KILL them if he so desires. It's a miracle he's not in jail with his numerous cases of indecent exposure and kidnapping of actual scientists, even his future self hates his guts, that's how toxic he is. Don't even get me started on the fact he strapped his boyfriend Raul to an electric chair against his will for his sick amusement.

Schmitty is abusive, physically assaulting the people he's working with or destroying the property of others with either his fists or sometimes giant rocks. He convinced Old Man to fake his own suicide in front of Cookie as a "prank", admitted to committing both adultery and gerbiling, and while he isn't hosting games naked, pissing on walls or having sex with his players midgame like Cookie has done; he makes up for it by simply not wearing pants most of the time, especially during work hours. He's also both been to jail and is currently on trial, likely for the above, and he's also just as verbally abusive as he is physically.

This in mind: their fates in You Don't Know Jack: Full Stream & Trivia Murder Party 2 is perfect karma for them! Cookie being the one manipulated for the benefit of another and to the detriment of himself, having nobody but a single intern that occasionally checks up on him and another who just reads out the questions for quality control, and being eternally forced to do the same song and dance till the day he dies without much as a break is PERFECT karma!

While Schmitty constantly being assaulted and abused, never getting to see the sun for the rest of his days, forced to live in a crate until he's forced to line read, tortured, or fed vile food just to keep him alive at the hands of who he used to think of as a friend. His only moments of peace being when the hotel explodes into smoldering smithereens, until he's brought back alive to repeat the cycle anew, making for a fitting punishment to someone who harmed many.

In fact, these ends are SO perfect that i'm almost convinced that these originally WERE going to be their last appearances, but due to how fans reacted, and how they likely weren't going to stop complaining about their situations; they brought them back to get some extra hype going for Pack 7 & Pack 9 respectively. But that's really all it is, marketing. While i like Schmitty's sequel and you guys know my opinion on Cookie's sequel ALL too well; the hosts...really added nothing. They're remarkably soulless at best and viciously flanderized at worst. Their roles could be filled by any other host and practically nothing would change, proven by the fact that Cookie isn't actually Cookie (which was added in a fucking PATCH by the way).

They don't deserve the "happy" ending they ended up getting, their fate filled with suffering was poetic; the worst out of the original cast getting their well deserved comeuppance two decades in the making. Getting rid of the old by giving them what they had coming to make way for Jackbox's new generation of psychotic hosts! Shame that they threw it away for the sake of marketability, before quickly discarding them like they were worth nothing to them. Capitalism kills art sometimes, that's just how it be.

[geometricalien]

OKAY I finished Life is Strange True Colors and it's time to give my hot trash opinions that no one asked for :) (spoilers will be below the cut)

I avoided almost everything released about this game because I did not want any spoilers whatsoever and I think that served me well.

I also came in with an open mind, I gotta say I was weary since deck nine had all of the control and I didn’t particularly like before the storm that much it was fine though.

All that said True Colors was beautiful. It has excellent graphics, compelling characters and side plots for each character, the power system was new and cool. I wasn't sure how being an empath would translate but it worked well in mechanics, was epic, and suited the theme of not just the game but Alex.

I played for about 10 hours Thursday with some breaks to stretch and get food. So needless to say, I was having a great time.

It has excellent sets and even though the power mechanics are exactly the same each time it's still fresh and creative in how these emotions can shape the world around them.

This is just a personal nitpick nothing actually important, the town is a fictional Coloradan small town and as someone who grew up in a neighboring state with similar small town/mining/outdoorsy communities- or visiting them- the town buildings were fantastic! I loved main street, I've been in towns with that exact same style. But the flower bridge and the deer were just... a tinge over the top, it felt like you were trying to sell "Paradise" way too hard. But besides that I loved the towns vibe!

I felt... a little burnt out being able to play all of the chapters at once, I think part that made the lis community so strong was that it had time to build and react to the episodes together. It gave us time to theorize and make fancontent. Versus binge gaming and shot like a bullet into the air, done too quick. I don’t feel as connected to the characters because I’ve only been with them for 14 ish hours vs months

NOW THAT BEING SAID- the pacing was good, it gave us the reins being able to free roam the map at nearly all times and it never felt like we were being dragged down

Overall, True Colors is a great addition. Had amazing voice acting graphics, characters, and themes. I definitely recommend checking this game out

Spoilers now abound:

Going back to an earlier comment- almost all scenarios where you used Alex's power in depth were fresh and interesting. My favorites being Ethan, Charlotte, and Eleanor. I bring this up because Duckie's was the most dull- which you could say matches because he is normally the life of the party so... feeling empty or dull makes sense for him. But then Pike’s was also similarly lacking in environment, so it didn’t feel as fulfilling

I loved loved loved episode 3. The larping was so much fun and I was tickled with the turn based fighting. I especially loved when Ethan made the world come to life, my heart lifted in pure joy.

The two main romance interests are... interesting. Ryan's insight and caring nature drew me to him the instant we met while Steph sort of came off... as separated? But as we became friends with them both it became super hard to chose. And at the end seeing their reactions to the bomb drop showed so much characterization. Steph's ride or die and Ryan (in my playthrough) just had someone challenge his entire life view of course that's hard to take in within 30 seconds. I got that religious gay trauma, I get it.

This is where I feel spacing out the episodes could've also helped with our fondness of characters. After Ryan didn't believe me I didn't want to pursue him anymore, my affection was weakened

However I chose to forgive both Ryan and Jed despite feeling like I missed the character development to reasonably make that decision. I understand this entire game is shadow work for Alex and it is growing her emotional intelligence by miles but I think I would have preferred more sign postings from the game saying "hey bc of your choices you are growing" which wasn't really true because-

Alex was suppressing her sadness, fear, and anger from her traumatic youth. So in episode 5, reliving all of those moments were the chance to level up in emotional intelligence. It felt odd to learn exactly everything at the very end but again it's okay because she was suppressing just like Jed which made her able to understand his emotions and walk him through them

TALKING ABOUT THAT TALK WHO GOT GIFS??? I NEED TO SEE HER EYES GLOWING AND FLICKERING WITH COLOR

I loved the parallel/bookendings of chapter 1: Side A and chapter 5: Side B, I'm a sucker for that shit

It's obvious that alot of care and heart was put into this game, it has layers and the more you peel back the more it reveals thematically

Now I got to compare it to my biggest criticism of LiS and Before the Storm, and ultimately the reason why I love LiS2 more than either of them. Does your choices actually matter?

LiS? No. The game ended with an ultimatum that made all of your choices in the end not matter and LiS is sold as a "your choices actually matter" type of game so seeing that be a load of malarkey always puts a bad taste in my mouth

Lis:bts? No. It's a prequel. I can admire the idea of "life may be futile but make the most of it" while you can and that definitely encompasses Rachel's side of bts. But that doesn’t negate the fact that this is more a game with a straight plot than LiS

LiS2? YOU GOT 4 ENDINGS AND YOU CAN ONLY CHOSE 2 AND ITS NARROWED DOWN TO HOW YOU PLAYED THIS GAME- THATS WHAT I CALL A CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE/YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES

True Colors? I think TC lies somewhere between LiS2 and LiS in this aspect. Its definitely very railed, I think in every one you will get Jed to confess, so it depends on how you go about convincing him, romancing, and deciding your future to... well... decide your future. I can't fault it. It left it up to the player to decide and to not be screwed over by our previous choices (cough cough) and that is the crowd pleasing choice.

So, in the sense that it all feels very railed until the last 15 minutes when they spin us on an ice rink and say "freestyle baby"- it's fine. I'm not mad about it. But it does make me wonder what would've happened if we don't have any of the committee members on our side? Would we leave town effective immediately? Would the truth even have gotten out? Because if that's true... I would bump it up in the "does your choices matter?" 

You make choices and those choices have consequences, sometimes out of your control. That's what LiS2 perfected and what I want to see more in this franchise. 

[wildcrisis]

Headcanons for Todou for how he takes care of his s/o in a relationship (would also be down to hear how long it took him to realize his feelings for you if inspiration allows).

(AN: You have no idea how excited I am that my first ask was for Todou! I love this idiot. I ended up writing a whole lot, so the silly, bad, and ugly are under the cut! As well as how long it took him to realize his feelings for you xoxo) [Want to make a request? Click -> [YO!]

How Todou takes care of his S/O in a relationship:

The So Amazingly Good:

🌸 Todou is a bright ray of sunshine starting early in the morning -- once he’s nice and awake anyway. He’ll insist you get up with him so you two can start the day off right together ... even if it is really early. Todou likes his routines, and the more you get up with him and participate in that routine, the more you find yourself liking it too. It definitely helps getting to shower together and get yourselves looking nice for the day!

🌸 Speaking of, Todou really respects someone who takes care of their appearance. Not due to vanity, but because he takes his own very seriously as well. If you’re having a bad day and don’t feel like getting out of bed, don’t even worry about it. Todou will make a nice, hot bath for you and pluck you out of bed himself, insisting that cleaning up will make you feel much better.

🌸 I really hope you’re here for encouragement all of the time, because Todou is all about it. He’s always trying to help you reach your goals, big or small. Whether you’re trying to make something new for dinner or trying to hit a difficult pose in yoga -- or even trying to get a new position at your current job, Todou is right there, being your personal cheerleader and doing whatever he can to help you stay motivated.

🌸 He loves physical contact, by the way. Hand holding is all fine and dandy, but this man likes to have his hand at the small of your back or around your waist when you’re out together. It makes him feel so happy, having you so close to him. He’ll respect it if you tell him to back off a little, but it’ll make him pouty for sure.

🌸 Kisses are a big part of Todou’s love language. A kiss on the top of your head for a hello. A kiss to your temple when you’re curled up together. A kiss on your forehead when you wake up. It’s a part of his communication with you, and a way for him to express himself as well.

🌸 Also, talk about romance and romantic outings. This man has an insane imagination and comes up with romantic scenarios that you could only dream of. He puts so much thought and effort into every little touch, every little piece. Todou is a smart man, and he remembers every single one of your favorite little things. Favorite flowers, favorite foods, favorite treats. You have to be a little careful though, when saying that something ��sounds nice” or that you’d like to experience it someday. Like, you better be serious, because Todou is about to make that passing thought a reality.

🌸 After a long day, Todou manages to tone down his always-at-100% personality at home. He’ll cook, or help you cook, a delicious meal to sit down with and turn on one of your favorite shows. He’s ready to cuddle up on the couch and just enjoy being with you. But, if you’re wanting to do anything extra, he’s ready to tap into that never-ending energy and do whatever you want to do!

🌸 He’s a near expert in the human body, so if you’ve got an ache or a pain, he’s there to massage it away. Just be careful when telling him how much it really hurts, because he’s real strong. More under the cut~

The Silly:

🌸 Todou can never remember how long you’ve been dating, because he mixes it up with his dumb fantasies. He also really over-exaggerates how you guys met.

🌸 Boredom is Todou’s number one fear, and that means he brings a lot of weird ideas to you to keep the two of you entertained.

🌸 He loves to carry you around everywhere, despite the fact that you can obviously walk there yourself, because he’s a bit of a show-off and he loves hearing you giggle -- or hearing you telling him off.

🌸 Todou loves telling everyone in every way you conquered the love he had for Takada. He still respects Takada, but his obsessive love is now pinned to you, and everyone is gonna hear about it.

The Bad:

🌸 Todou’s job is very dangerous, and that’s why every moment that he has with you, he considers special. Unfortunately, that may come off as him suffocating you with attention.

🌸 He’s gone for long periods of time, sometimes. You can’t always rely on him when you’re having a bad day, so you have to have your own inner strength to persevere through life while he’s gone.

The Ugly:

🌸 Todou is very headstrong and opinionated, and there will be times when he doesn’t understand what you’re feeling or why you’re feeling it. It’ll cause conflict if you’re not willing to be patient with him and help him understand what you’re going through. He may seem extremely pushy to help you get out of your funk, and that may cause a world of hurt between the two of you. He solves problems by going head first through them, and having to take a different approach is hard for him.

🌸 You can’t be a jealous person and persist with this man. He’s still going to ask every man who fights him what his type of woman is, and Todou has his examples of his favorites! You’ll have to understand that this interaction he has with peers and enemies, and his love for you, are two completely separate things.

How Long It Took Todou to Realize His Feelings

🌸 Oh lordy does this man like to play it cool. Of course he recognized his feelings for you instantly, and you can’t convince him otherwise!

🌸 In reality, it took him some time to realize his true feelings for you. He always thought the feeling he had for Takada was true love and adoration. Then you came along, and the longer you stuck around, the more he couldn’t get you out of his head.

🌸 Todou, bless him, thought about you endlessly and thought you must be his new best friend.

🌸 It took some time, and one very elaborate fantasy that spun out of his control, to realize that he had deep, romantic feelings for you. He didn’t expect to ask you out in his fantasy!! But you were there, instead of Takada!! And you ... You didn’t turn him down!

🌸 He was hilariously shy when trying to ask you out outside of his fantasy. The fear of rejection is strong when he’s finally putting it into play. But you simply giggled and asked him if he finally realized how long you’d liked him.

[fenristheorem]

Hi! Can you make part 2 of Guardienne and Lance relationship, the first one was so cute got me curious for more

Hello there! No problem at all, I know of a few more headcanons that you may like!😊

*Very minor NSFW in this (pretty non-descriptive except for maybe a few small parts).

~Under the cut~

Lance and Guardienne’s relationship - Part 2:

I’ll start out small: terms of endearment. Now Lance probably isn’t one to use cuddly words like ‘sugar, honey, etc.’, but I could definitely see him using the occasional ‘dear, darling, my love’ on Guardiennne, because let’s be honest; he’s a hardened warrior who probably enjoys witty banter and sensuality more than bubble baths and sugar-coated words. These terms of affection may be used far and few in between, but he’d definitely still use them on occasion.

However, he’d be much more likely to use endearing terms to describe her when complimenting her - especially when she’s feeling a bit subdued as of late. He’ll call her things like ‘cute, adorable, beautiful’ and the whole rest of that spectrum. These sudden bouts of compliments can happen at the most random of moments, as well.

Guardienne may be taking off her shirt to change - in their shared room of course - with Lance doing his own thing. Her back will be towards him when she’ll suddenly hear “fucking gorgeous” from behind her, and she’ll look over her shoulder to cast an amused glare at him as he gifts her with a wolfish grin. This can happen at almost any time; as she changes, steps out of the shower, undresses for an intimate moment - the possibilities are nearly endless provided it’s an appropriate moment.

Other times she’ll be doing her own thing - feeding her companion, organizing her clothing, redecorating her room - and he’ll come to her and wrap his arms around her, littering small, playful kisses along her cheek and neck while muttering things like “beautiful,” “my gorgeous woman,” “perfect,” “you’re a living goddess” as she blushes and squeals in his grasp.

Terms like ‘precious, adorable, and cute’ are typically used in teasing moments - like when he’s trying to get a rise out of her, or while they’re having one of their many intimate moments. Seeing her face flush as she bites her lip and squirms underneath him, completely unable to shoot back a witty statement in retaliation of his fervid comment, really does something to him that he likes to indulge in on occasion. 

He’ll certainly compliment her attitude and intelligence as well. However, this is usually under a different scenario, like when they’re talking over, planning, or debating something. This’ll be primarily when she mentions something that hadn’t occurred to him, but he also certainly likes to give her chances to express a thoroughly thought out idea - whether he agrees with it or not - and he loves to stress his approving opinion on her wisdom and perceptiveness when she expresses her detailed decision. Of course, she definitely has times where her thoughts and decisions are... incomprehensible for Lance, but he still makes sure to show when he’s impressed by her.

He doesn’t compliment her too often, but when he does she knows it’s sincere, and he certainly makes sure it won’t be missed by her. The last thing he wants is to compliment her but for it to be forgotten because it was just a small, passing comment.

That’s also why he makes sure to compliment her when he’s having a random bout of intense affection. Lance is very inconsistent on when he sparks affectionate moments, but occasionally the feeling will hit him where he’s just so overwhelmingly happy to be in a relationship with such a powerful, respectable woman that he needs to stress to her how deep his affections run. This will likely only happen later in the relationship - when he knows she won’t run from him for being so incredibly emotional about her - and once he feels safe to express himself in such intense ways she’ll basically be spoiled rotten. Occasionally he’ll come back with flowers or a small trinket as a gift, but it’s much more common for him to take a day off to spend it solely with her, wrapped up in her arms underneath the blankets as they cuddle the day away. He’ll touch her whenever he has a chance, hold her whenever he can get his hands on her, kiss her whenever the moment presents itself and refuse to let her go - so long as she agreed to spend the day with him. Lance will know how to spoil her without being too clingy if she needs to spend the day working, but if she did agree to spend her whole day with him then she should expect to spend the whole day with him. Seriously - he won’t let her go.

This leads to how they cuddle then, and this can range from soft, gentle, and sensual to... basically pinning the other down and refusing to let them up. On a normal day it’ll be soft nuzzles while they hold each other in their arms, quietly talking or not talking at all as they embrace the rise and fall of their partner’s chest. These moments are calm, but can’t begin to rival the comfort of after-sex cuddling. In those moments, as their harsh breathing calms and dewy sweat cools on their skin, they’ll hold each other so close that they can feel the other’s pulse, and every breath they take threatens to suffocate them as there’s absolutely no space left between the two. Guardienne will fall into Lance’s strong, broad chest and rest her head over his heart to enjoy the alluring rhythm while the dragon will pull her tight against him, letting his hand run over the outer side of the leg hooked over his waist as his other arm pulls her close. These gentle caresses after sex are laced with moments of Guardienne brushing her fingers along his chest and abdomen, pressing gentle, sensual kisses to his skin as Lance tangles his fingers in her hair and curls an arm around her waist to keep her close. On the other end of the spectrum, they partake in a lot of aggressive cuddling, and this can be provoked by either Guardienne or Lance when they’re feeling aggressively playful or a bit territorial with the other. Lance may be feeling a bit jealous one day - there are many faeries who like Guardienne due to her valiant effort at saving Eldarya, and while he doesn’t blame them for doing so, she’s still his now and he will fight any rival - and will be seeking her attention, so he’ll pick her up and lay on her the bed... and lie down on top of her - literally. Only for a moment though, he’ll adjust himself to be only half lying on top of her as he wraps both arms - and both legs for the hell of it - around her and gently squeeze as he nuzzles into her neck. Guardienne can fight all she wants, but it’ll be no use. Lance’s strength overwhelms her’s without question, so whatever struggle she may try to put up to escape from him, it’ll feel no different than a leaf fighting the wind to Lance. Of course, there are times where Guardienne sparks this aggressive cuddling as well. She might be feeling particularly aggressive one day, and - knowing that her rough mannerisms is, to Lance, the equivalent of a Musarose batting at a door - she won’t be afraid to grab him and drag him to the bed or couch - and he’s only moving because he’s allowing himself to be moved - shoving him onto it before laying atop him. Now Lance could easily get up, but he loves when Guardienne has her aggressive, territorial moments (provided no one is hurt because of it, which is unlikely anyways) so he’ll humor her by poking fun at her demanding attitude or by just allowing her to express her affections via death grip. Occasionally he’ll be even more aggressive in turn and they’ll have a contest on who can be most aggressively affectionate towards the other.

Their cuddling and aggressive affection can depend on - or even help her with - her menstrual cycle as well, and, frankly, he’s become a master of pleasing a temperamental, hissy-fit woman who can be taken down only by blood loss when he needs to be. Lance knows how to keep himself calm under heavy pressure and anger from another person, so her futile attempts at getting a rise out of him will... really only get a rise out of her as she realizes he won’t throw a tantrum as easily as her. Any cramps she has? Well, he may be an ice dragon but he knows basics in controlling fire, so he’s certainly not against raising the temperature of his hand to rest on her abdomen and ease the cramps via makeshift heating pack. If she experiences hot flashes - or nausea flashes if the cold helps her with those - he’ll do the opposite and bring his body temperature down until he serves as a cool pillow for her to rest on. Those aggressive cuddles I mentioned before help ease any of her aching muscles as he holds her tight, and any aggressive affection he’ll shower her with - when not irritating her, as she’s pretty unstable between loving and hating this intense attention - will remind her that she’s not alone going through her torment and that’s he’s there to help bring her comfort if she wishes to utilize him.

He’ll take good care of her overall during her periods; making sure she’s hydrated, bringing her anything she needs, and certainly isn’t afraid of retrieving sanitary products (pads, tampons, whatever she uses) from the market if she needs him to. Lance will bless her with massages, random fits of aggressive affection or gentle loving, and will happily carry her around the room if she needs something but is feeling too pained, fatigued, etc. to actually be able to walk around. If she’s having a day where she wants to be left alone? No problem, he can basically ignore her by distracting himself with work until she comes crawling along to start irritating him for attention, and when that happens he’s usually quite fine with wrapping up whatever he’s working on and providing his affection to her. Of course, this isn’t to say that Guardienne can’t take care of herself during her menstrual cycles, but it shows that Lance is very prominent in helping her if she needs help during these times.

Knowing all of this, it's easy to imagine how restless they can get when the other goes on a long mission. Usually when Guardienne goes on a mission, Lance is sent with her for safety purposes (how could anyone forget her tendency of getting hurt?), but there is the occasion where she's sent without him. Lance, of course, will worry about her the whole time she's gone; wondering if he should have pressured Huang Hua more to send him with her, fretting that she's already hurt and alone somewhere, hell - even worrying that she's alright but another man in a foreign land is trying to court her, regardless of if she's interested or not, but frankly he's not sure if he'd be more disturbed if she is into romancing another man or of she isn't but is living through that forced experience anyways. Goodness so many things he doesn't know while she's gone!

When he's not worrying about her, he might be spending his time restlessly trying to distract himself. His partner is gone for an amount of time in which he only has a rough idea, so he’s left without anyone close to him to hang out with. Suddenly he finds that he’s very bored very often... He’ll occupy himself with work, basically; starting from the most important daily things and continuing until he retires for the night or until he’s done every task possible until there’s basically nothing left to do for the day. In the case where the Obsidian guard has basically nothing else to do in terms of daily tasks, he’ll take to planning things, or scheduling, or re-scheduling, or gathering information from other Obsidians, or running errands for Huang Hua, taking on extra missions, taking on a mission that will send him away for as long as she’s away, anything to keep himself busy. Mathieu has proven a bit helpful in these times - the young human is almost always happy to spend time training or just hanging out with Lance - but, of course, he’s not always available, and Lance can’t spend all his time with one person who’s not his partner. He does get a bit fed up with others once in a while after spending too long around them.

At night, or at times where he would usually find himself curled up with Guardienne, he’ll pacify his drowning ache to feel her in his arms by digging through her clothing drawer and taking a few items that smell like her to curl up with instead. He’ll bury his face in his partner’s pillow and sleep on her side of the bed, sometimes even taking her pillow - or a pillow in general - and placing one of her stronger scented shirts over it to hold close to him at night so he can breathe in her scent as he sleeps. Guardienne has come back to this sight many times - it’s quite adorable to find Lance passed out on her side of the bed, laying on her pillow with her shirt on another pillow clenched tightly in his arms. On the topic of clothing; he won’t wear her clothing, but he may keep a shirt or coat of hers over his shoulder in the daytime as he walks around their room - never doing as such outside of the room, though. When he’s outside of their room he’s distracting himself from her existence by working himself, but when he’s inside their room he’s indulging in her scent and memories until her fateful return. He makes sure to keep what happens outside his room versus inside his room separate.

When she finally returns she’ll be flooded with affection and attention like she wouldn’t believe, specifically being held captive in his arms for countless hours when they have time alone together as Lance does his best to express how much he truly enjoys her company and misses her when she’s gone.

Guardienne has a tendency to do very similar things when Lance leaves on a long mission; working herself more, sleeping on his side of the bed, taking other missions. However, she has friends that she hangs out with a bit more when he's gone. She certainly makes time to hang around them in general - she knows how to balance her relationships - but since Lance is gone, all her social time is now spent with her friends. Of course, that changes when night falls and she retires to her room, remembering that she's now alone until Lance's eventual return. Guardienne doesn't really like sleeping alone after so many nights with the warm dragon, but she's found ways to counter the cold loneliness that overtakes her. Like mentioned before, she’ll sleep on his side of the bed, burying her face in his pillow to drink in his scent, but she also has a tendency to dig through his shirt drawer and wear one of his stronger smelling shirts when she’s alone or as she sleeps. Throughout the day - when she finds herself missing his presence even more so - she’ll make a point of keeping anything he gifted around her more. Any jewelry, trinkets, ornaments, gems - basically anything he gave her - will be kept around her to ward off loneliness. She’ll also wear clothing he gifted her, and then wear one of his shirts over that. However, once again, those habits are usually restricted to inside the room. She’ll wear gifted jewelry and clothing in public, but that’s the extent of it.

Her reaction when Lance returns isn't too far off of his reaction upon her return, except when he finally relieves her of loneliness she'll throw herself onto him and kiss him in a passionate, desperate manner. Only in private though. If she meets him in public - at the gates of the guard, or something - she'll throw herself into his arms and embrace him in a tight hug before likely trailing him all the way back to their room to help him settle back in. Either way, the first night they spend together in a long time will be an endless night filled with heated touches and lustful whispers.

These were quite fun to write, so I hope you like them as much as I do! Since these are general relationship headcanons, I still have more that I could write about. There’s so many different aspects to relationships that it’s hard to run out of thing to write, haha. Happy to write a part 3 if anyone would like to request. 😊

Also happy to write a scenario on their aggressive cuddling, although I may do that as a special un-requested scenario anyways. (Perhaps as a 100, 200, 300 followers thank you sort of thing. I nearing 200 now and I want to do something special eventually 😉)

Have a request? Ask them here!

But first, please read the rules list for asks!

[noladyme]

The Wife - Chapter 2

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. As rumors spread that Mr. James Delaney had returned to England – making a dramatic arrival at his father’s funeral – you might imagine mothers throughout London, rushing to present their marriable daughters to the man. They did not; and for three very good reasons. First; James Keziah Delaney was clearly damaged from his travels, and not a little dangerous. Secondly; it was the general opinion of the better society that Mr. Delaney had inherited his mother’s madness. Thirdly; Mr. Delaney was not single. In fact, he was very much married.

TW: angst, violence, blood, smut (7467 words)

He came to her, as she stood in the middle of a meadow of white flowers. As he walked towards her, the flowers he passed wilted. “Why are you here?”, Rosalind asked. “Because I cannot stay away”, James said. She put her hands on his broad, naked chest; and felt his heart beat as if he was really there, and not a dream vision. “Then don’t… I waited. Even after they told me you died; I still waited!”. “Why?”, James asked; putting his forehead to hers. “You know why, my love”. James pulled back from her, and pointed at the wilted flowers behind him. “This is what I bring. This is what will happen to you, if you let me in”. “You won’t hurt me”, Rosalind said, and reached for his hand.

He disappeared in the same moment, and appeared again, a way off from her. The white flowers were now all dead. “Death follows where I go. Do not put yourself in danger… I should not be here. Wake up”.

She woke with a start. The sun was already peaking through the gap in the curtains, and the room was cold. A wilted flower lay on the pillow next to her.

---

Two days later, Rosalind was seated on a plush sofa in countess Musgrove’s day room. She had long since given up on the card game, as the stakes were much too dear for her purse; and she was feeling dizzy and out of sorts. “I tell you, that feather made all the difference. Within minutes, he was meek as a lamb, and pleading with me to end the torture, and just let him finish!”.

The ladies in the room all laughed at the countess’ story. Musgrove herself relished in the attention, before turning to Rosalind. “Miss Beauchamp… or should I say; Mrs. Delaney”. The ladies all cackled. “Tell me; how is it, having your husband back?”. “Much as it was before he returned”, Rosalind said, surprised by her own bluntness. “Are you still being courted by that dashing Mr. Geary, then?”, a well-fed lady, who’s name Rosalind did not remember, asked. “I’ve never found him… dashing. And he smells like herring”. Rosalind could not cover the disdain in the voice.

The countess got up, and walked over to join her on the sofa. Her blue, silk gown covered most of the seat. It reminded her of water; and for a moment Rosalind considered stroking her fingers against it, to see if they would breach the surface of the fabric. The countess poured her another cup of tea, and handed it to her. “Please. I have it made especially”, she smiled. Rosalind took a sip, and tried – unsuccessfully – to hide how bitter the taste was. “It is not in everyone’s taste, of course. But quite expensive, I assure you”. “I’m sure it is”, Rosalind said.

The countess popped a meringue into her mouth. “Now, your husband…”, she said, after finishing chewing. “I hear he’s quite the brute”. “He wasn’t when I met him. Now, I do not know; to be honest”. “He has not moved you in to his house. Why?”. “You guess is as good as mine, my lady”, Rosalind said. “Perhaps he knows I am quite comfortable with Mrs. Owen”. “Bah, that old gossip monger”, the countess scoffed. “My maid tells me, she runs her mouth to every man or woman who will listen, about her tenants”. “I am not surprised. But my lodgings are fitting to my income, as it is”.

Musgrove raised an amused and overly painted eyebrow at her; while Rosalind took another sip of tea. “Are they? I hear your formerly dearly departed, now very much alive husband, is about to make quite a lot of money; from selling a plot of land. I’m sure you’ll be moving up in the world soon… You might not even need to take employment with me, the next time my niece visits”.

This was how Rosalind had met countess Musgrove a little over a year earlier; as she was entertaining her husband’s niece from Germany. The poor girl needed a chaperone for the rambunctious parties the countess hosted; and Rosalind had held the flabbergasted girl’s hand, as they made their way through rooms filled with acrobats and magicians. She had soon returned to Hanover, but Rosalind had been continuously invited to all the parties at the countess’ home; and had each time sent back a polite decline. She had accepted the occasional invitation for tea, and sat through the ridiculous gossip and banter such occasions had provided.

“I was not aware. We have not spoken much, since his return”, Rosalind said. “I have only seen him twice, and he never spoke of land or money”. She cleared her throat, feeling it suddenly dry. She could not stop herself from saying things, she felt she shouldn’t.

“But you must have heard about the land in America. Nootka Sound”, Musgrove said. “Here; have some more tea, for your cough”. She poured another cup for Rosalind; who took a large sip. “Only from Mr. Thoyt, my father-in-law’s lawyer”. A strange expression ghosted the countess’ face. “Mr. Thoyt… He has been in contact with you?”. “Well, I was the sole heiress to the Delaney estate, so yes”, Rosalind said. She took another sip of tea. “All my husband has spoken of; is how he believes someone is out to kill him”.

Rosalind halted herself. She felt as if she could not stop the words going through her head, from coming out of her mouth. Her hands shook, and she set down the cup on the small table next to her. “I’m terribly sorry, but I am feeling unwell. Would you mind having a carriage take me back to town?”. Musgrove took her hand. “Oh my dear! Are you sure you do not want to have a lie down in one of the guest rooms?”. “No, please. I should like to go home”, Rosalind insisted.

Musgrove got up, and walked over to one of the footmen, and said something below her breath. “… when she’s asleep…”, Rosalind thought she heard the countess say. She used her hand to fan herself; feeling not hot, but still like fresh air might do her good, in her faintness. When she looked up again, the other ladies were whispering at the card table, and the countess had disappeared off to somewhere. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when they opened again, she was alone, but for the countess, who had returned. “Come my dear. The carriage awaits”.

Rosalind managed getting into the carriage without too much help from the coachman. The countess waved her off, as they drove away. For a while, they drove down the roads leading from the Musgrove manor to London; and Rosalind let herself relax against the window. It became dusk while they drove, and the trip took longer than Rosalind expected. The coachman took a few turns she knew were wrong. “Driver, this is not the way back to town”, she called out. She noticed some of the same trees she’d seen earlier. “Why are you taking me back to the manor?”.

There was no answer, but the carriage halted, and she heard the coachman get down. Suddenly, the door opened, and the coachman entered the carriage; startling her. He pulled out a handkerchief, and pressed it against her face; with a firm grip to the back of her head. Rosalind screamed through the fabric, but when she inhaled, a strong acidic smell hit her nose; and she suddenly felt dizzier than before. “Sleep now, miss. You’ll feel better in the morning”, the coachman said. Rosalind let out another scream, and weakly struck at his head; before she had to give in. She had no fight left in her.

Another person entered the carriage; striking hard at the coachman’s head. A knife shaped as a claw slid across his abdomen, and Rosalind saw blood flowing from the wound. “Go back to Musgrove. Tell her the lady will be disinclined to return for tea, until she serves something of a better quality; and less disturbing to the senses”, James voice growled. Rosalind let out a gasp of relief mixed with exhaustion. She found it difficult to keep her eyes open, but managed to meet James’ eyes for a moment, as he pulled her out of the carriage, and tried to set her on her feet. “Can you walk?”, he asked. “No”, Rosalind replied; unable to raise her voice above a whisper. She collapsed against him, her face buried against his shoulder. She held on to his collar, but couldn’t stay on her feet. “Rose”, James breathed. Then everything went black.

---

There were flashes of lucidness. Leaning against a strong shoulder, seated in an open carriage. The smell of gutters, and sounds of laughing people. A street light forcing her to cover her eyes. A voice she knew, speaking a language she didn’t. Being carried up squeaking steps. A warm hand stroking her forehead.

She woke in a bed she knew well, and had slept in it many nights, years before. She was in the bed she was meant to have shared with James after they’d been wed, but had instead ended up sleeping in on her own, after he’d left. The room was darker than it had been when she had lived there; in spite of the fireplace being lit, and the candles set up on the nightstand.

Looking down at herself, she saw that her jacket had been removed, as well as her shoes; but otherwise, she was fully clothed. James was seated on a chair in the far corner; his expression dark and hard. “Did you kill him?”, Rosalind asked. “No. I had a use for him. He needed to send a message to your friends, the countess”, he said. “I did kill the pharmacist that sold her maid the powders she put in your tea, to make you compliant”. Rosalind shuddered at his words. “What happened to you, James?”, she asked. “I was always this. You are just seeing it now”, he replied. She sat herself up, leaning against the headboard.

They sat for a moment in silence, before Rosalind could take it no longer. “Will you not come closer? I can hardly see you in the darkness”. “I should not be close to you right now. I am very angry”, James replied. Rosalind went to get out of bed. “No, stay there”. “Are you angry with me?”, she asked. “Do I have reason to be?”. “I don’t know”, Rosalind admitted. “I know nothing about your dealings, and yet I fear I’ve let too much be known to others”. James nodded. “You did. But no; I am not angry with you”. Rosalind leaned forwards. “Then come closer. You won’t hurt me”. James got on his feet. “Do you believe I would hurt you, if I was angry with you?”. “No”, Rosalind replied.

A log in the fireplace cracked, and the embers lit up James face. His lips were parted, as if he was to speak again; but instead, he slowly walked towards the bed. Once close to her, Rosalind reached for his hand, and he sat down on the edge of the bed; allowing her to merge her fingers with his. “You put yourself in danger, when I asked you not to”.

“I didn’t know having tea could be dangerous”, she said. Swallowing hard, she met his blue eyes. In spite of the crows feet and the scar, they were still the same.

“You visited me in my dreams”, she said timidly. “Hmm”, James muttered. “I’m sure I’ve visited you there many times”. “But you did…”, she insisted “This does not sound like madness to you?”. “Madness that I believe you can do so?”, Rosalind said. James merely grunted as a reply. “You died, and then you came back. I believe you can do many things”. “Hmm…”, James grunted. Rosalind turned his hand in hers, and pulled it up to kiss his palm. “If you want to see me, don’t come to me in dreams”, she said. “I have dreamt of you too often. I want to you there when I am awake”.

James pulled his hand back abruptly, and got off the bed. He looked hard at her. “You are no longer safe on your own. You will move back into this house, where I can protect you”. “Is that the only reason why you want me here?”, Rosalind asked. She reached for his hand again, but he recoiled from her. “Sleep now”, James demanded. “You still have chemicals in you, it is why you are saying such foolish things. There is no such thing as visiting another person’s dreams”.

He left the room without another word.

---

The smell of coffee and bacon woke her. Rosalind gingerly stepped out of the bed; testing to see if her legs would hold. Once she was satisfied that they would, she looked under the bed. There, covered in a thick layer of dust, stood a pair of slippers. She smiled to herself, happy that she’d been correct in thinking she had left them here, when she’d departed the house 9 years before. They still fit.

She made her way down the stairs, into the sitting room. Two places had been set up for breakfast, and Brace was happily putting down a plate of eggs and bacon by the chair closest to the lit fireplace. The dog was laying in front of the fire, and lifted its head for a moment, when she entered. “Good morning, ma’am… or, miss”, he smiled. “I am glad to have you back in the house”. “Just a few days ago, you seemed to rather have me anywhere but here”, Rosalind chuckled, and seated herself in front of the delicious smelling food. “Well, maybe you can straighten him out. Lord knows, I can’t”, Brace replied, and poured her a cup of coffee.

“Bacon, Brace? We don’t eat pork”, James grunted; suddenly appearing in the doorway. He was dressed in trousers, and a blue shirt that was not tucked in. Tattoos were visible on his chest and neck, and the shirt exposed more of his skin than Rosalind had ever seen before. He was tanned, and looked strong. Heat pooled in Rosalind’s lower belly, and she had to look away. “Which is why I made you porridge”, Brace replied. “There’s no reason the lady should suffer, because you won’t eat anything from the market”. Rosalind stifled a smile, and raised a fork to her lips. “You bought this at the market?”, James asked. Brace nodded, and James sprang towards Rosalind; grabbing the fork from her, and throwing her plate into the fireplace. Some of the food landed in her lap. “James!”, Rosalind yelped. James raised an angry finger at Brace. “How many times must I tell you; we only eat what comes from Atticus. He is the only one I trust!”.

Rosalind got on her feet, and wiped the food of her skirt with a napkin. The dog got on its feet, and came over to eat the scraps that landed on the floor. James looked at her, his gaze slightly embarrassed. “I will have your things delivered here today”, he said. “Your clothes, and whatnot”. “I never agreed to stay”, Rosalind replied. Brace looked disappointed. “You don’t have a choice. What happened last night should be proof of that”, James retorted. “And, you are my wife. It is only proper”. “And you are all about propriety, are you?”. She let her eyes travel toward his partly uncovered chest. “I will fetch my own things, thank you". “I don’t want you leaving this house, until I’m sure it’s safe", James said.

Rosalind sighed in irritation. “Brace, I should like to eat in my room. Porridge will be fine”. “Honey?”, Brace asked. “Jam, please. If you have it”, she replied, and exited the room with as much pride in her step as she could muster. She heard another plate being smashed as she went; and hurried up the stairs.

---

She didn’t leave her room the rest of the day. Rosalind knew James was right. Though she had no idea why she was in danger, someone – quite possibly the countess Musgrove – had tried to kidnap her. Angry as she was at him, being in James’ presence – in his house – made her feel safer.

During the day, she heard shuffling upstairs in the attic. Heavy items being moved around, and steps across the floor. The senior Delaney had used the attic as an office, she knew, but she had only been up there a few times; and when she had, her father-in-law had been in a drunken stupor, and she’d had to help Brace get him down to his bed. The thought of James in the same condition, mad and rambling, made her heart sting with pain.

In the evening, she decided to go downstairs for dinner; needing a change of scenery. Her chest and travelling luggage stood in the hallway. On top of the chest, stood the new boots; still unused. She stood for a moment, looking at them, before walking in to the sitting room; where James sat at the dining table, bent over what looked like salted beef and potatoes. Rosalind sat down at the opposite end of the table.

“I’ll have to burn your old boots, if you keep refusing to wear the ones, I got for you”, James said; eyes fixed on his plate. “You don’t want me leaving the house. I don’t need boots”, Rosalind replied. James grunted nonsensically in response. “What was that?”. “Eat your food”. “Are you sure it’s not poisoned?” He looked up at her with narrowed eyes. “You should watch your tongue”, he said. “I am not afraid of you, James”, Rosalind snarled. “You should be. I am a dangerous man”. He returned to his food.

Rosalind poked at the meat on her plate. It looked unappetizing, and she decided to only eat the potatoes. “If you insist on keeping me here, I should like to know why", she said. James gave her a quick look, before downing a glass of brandy. “You don’t want to be here?”, he asked. “You don’t seem to want me here, and I prefer not to overstay my welcome with anyone”. She put a piece of potato in her mouth, and chewed as femininely as possible; considering the undercooked consistency. She suspected these potatoes were of the kind, which would never be possible to cook properly.

James leaned back, and watched her intently. "Did my father ever give you any documents for safe keeping?”, he asked. “Something that might look like a contract, or a deed?”. Rosalind shook her head confusedly. Brace came into the room, with a tray of bread. “No. He wouldn’t let me near anything official looking. I was more or less an ornament, while I stayed here last". James narrowed his eyes at her. “How long did you live here?”. “A little over a year. Up until your letters stopped, and your father became too cruel", Brace said. James tensed up at this statement. “He wasn’t cruel", Rosalind said. “He was just in pain. He missed his son, and I reminded him of that". James studied her face intently. “You always seek out the good in others; almost to a fault, miss", Brace said. Rosalind blushed at Brace's words, though she was quite sure they were not truly a compliment.

She looked at James again. “You did not answer my question. Why am I here? And why did someone try to kidnap me yesterday?”. James looked at Brace, who shook his head almost pleadingly. “The lady wants to know”, James said. “Nootka Sound. Do you know of it?”. The old butler left the room, looking unhappy. “Not much. I’ve heard it is a plot of land in America". “Hmm…”, he grunted. “It is an area on the north-west coast. And it’s mine". Rosalind carved another piece of potato. “I was told you were about to sell it”, she said. “That is what they want. They tried killing me, so they could buy it from you, but they haven’t managed so far", James said.

A chill went through Rosalind’s body. “You’re not selling?”. “No. I intend to use it for myself. It’s located in a strategically beneficial place for trade…”.

James looked at her, as if he anticipated her next question. “And who are they?”, she asked. “The ones who want you to sell?”. He seemed to consider whether she was to be trusted enough to hear what was to come; before finally coming to a conclusion, and continuing. “The crown wants the land, to control the Americans; and the East India Trading Company wants it for naval trade. To add to them, are the Americans, who also want their hands on it. That is why Musgrove was trying to put her claws into you, yesterday”. “The countess is French", Rosalind said. James shook his head. “She is from New Orleans. An American spy”, he said. “All three parties believe they can use you; that if they have you, they can convince me to sell to them”. Rosalind pushed away her plate, and looked hard at James. “My life and yours are in danger, because you won’t sell a plot of land you’ve never even seen?”, she asked. “They probably won’t kill you like they would me, but rape and torture is certainly a possibility”, James said matter-of-factly. He raised a bottle. “Brandy?”. Rosalind shook her head. “I changed my mind. You are mad, James…”, she said; and pushed her glass forwards. “Make it a double”.

James got on his feet, and walked over to her, filling her glass. “I have a plan to keep you safe, and me alive”, he said. Rosalind raised the glass to her lips, and took a sip. “It is why you must stay here with me – and be my wife again”. Rosalind almost choked on her drink. “I… what?”. James handed her a napkin, and she wiped her mouth. “I am making arrangements to travel to America”, he said, and topped off her glass. “I can continue those preparations in secret, if we convince all three parties that I have instead decided to sell”. “How do we do that?”, Rosalind asked. “By you moving in here permanently”, he said. “They will believe that I have reunited with my wife. We are very happy, and I’ve decided that my future lies in England. It gives me free range to continue my preparations”.

Rosalind got on her feet, and reached for James hand; but he stepped back, to put some distance between them. “James…”, she said almost pleadingly. “Each of the potential buyers will want to keep me happy, so they will all be working to keep each other at bay. No one will touch you”, James said. And neither will you, apparently, Rosalind thought to herself. “This way, you are protected, until it is no longer necessary”. “And when will that be?”. “That is still to be determined”. James went back to his seat. “I am yet to purchase a ship, and I’m also still working on safe passage through the American blockade”. “And after you get that?”, Rosalind asked. “After I get that, I will go. You will be free of me”. He more or less ingested a piece of meat, looking like he could care less about the taste – he was only feeding a hunger, not enjoying a meal. “I will make out papers to leave you Chamber House. You can sell it or stay here, that is up to you… I will also leave you money; enough to keep you comfortable”.

Rosalind felt cold all over. James entire explanation had seemed indifferent to her emotions, how she’d longed for him for so long. “And I cannot come with you?”. He seemed surprised at her question, as if he’d never considered the possibility. “Why would you do that?”, he asked. She let out an exasperated sigh. “Because you are my husband. Because I loved you and you loved me, and maybe…”. “I told you. None of that”. He pushed away his plate. “Now, Mrs. Delaney, I have a use for you, and you have a use for me. Do we have an accord?”.

Rosalind looked at the garnet ring on her right hand. She’d kept it there for 7 years, unable to let go of him; but also, unable to wear it on the finger he had put it on himself, 3 years before that. “Why did you marry me?”, she asked. James met her eyes. His expression warmed; and he furrowed his brow, as if to make himself come across harder than he felt inside. “Because I was selfish. You did not see me as I was – as I am. You saw things in me I wanted to believe were there. It made me want you, but you deserved better”. “I still believe those things about you”. “Then you are a fool”. “I think you are the fool. There is no darkness without light. Goodnight, husband”.

She left the room, and went up the stairs; leaving James to his thoughts and plans.

---

In the morning, Rosalind woke up in determination. If James wanted a wife, he would get one. She held no hope that he would change his mind, and decide that he wanted her back; but if he was insistent on travelling to America – if that was what would make him whatever version of happy it was possible for him to be – she would do her part to make that happen. To add to that, she had no wish to be kidnapped, raped or tortured; and the only way to avoid that, seemed to be to go with the arrangement James had proposed.

Once dressed in her best morning dress, and she had made up her hair in a fashionable yet appropriately demure manner, she made her way downstairs to face her husband. He was not in the sitting room, but she found him nursing what looked like a terrible hangover, in the kitchen. Brace was seated by the fireplace, scratching the dog behind its ears. His face lit up when he saw her. “Good morning, miss Beauchamp!”, he said. “Mrs. Delaney from here on, Brace”, she smiled. The butler’s smile widened. “Coffee?”. He poured her a cup, and she sat down on one of the wobbly chairs, across the table from James; and looked over the kitchen. It was even drearier than the rest of the house; clearly vermin infested, and in need of a cleaning.

“I have terms”, she said. James looked up at her from his own cup; clearly wanting nothing but to be left alone. “Terms? You get protection for as long as needed; then this house, and money to live”, he said. “What else could you want?”. Rosalind took a deep breath, and tried to look as calm as possible. “Yes… the house. No lady with any kind of respect for herself, or her reputation, would live in it, in the state it is in now”, she said. “It must be cleaned; the leaking from the roof must be fixed; the furniture needs mending; and I want new curtains… Oh, and fresh flowers in every room”. “Why?”, James grunted. “I shall have to invite ladies for afternoon tea, and I will not have them gossiping about me being a bad housekeeper”. James looked disgusted at the prospect. “Tea…”. Rosalind smiled brightly. “Yes. Feel free to stay away on such occasions, if you are not comfortable with it. We will also need to light the fireplaces in all the rooms in use. It’s too cold here”. “There is not warmth in the Delaney house”, her husband grunted. “There will be now”, she retorted. “Hmm…”, James said. “Anything else?” “Yes”, she replied, and took a sip of her coffee. “The cleaning of the house shall extend to its inhabitants. Including the dog. Does he have a name?”. “Yes”, James growled. “It’s dog”. “Hmm”, Rosalind nodded.

Brace cleared his throat. “If I am to clean this whole house…”, he began. “You will not have to do it alone. We will employ a maid”. The butler’s eyes widened in fear. “Just for propriety’s sake, Brace. Don’t worry. She does not need to live here, and I can tend to my own dressing in the morning”. “You seem quite capable of that”, James muttered, and gave her a once over. “Ah, a compliment! How kind of you, husband”, Rosalind jeered. “You will of course have to extend those on occasion, especially in company, and when we promenade in public”. “I do not promenade”, James said, and took a sip of his coffee. “You do now. Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday, after church”. James sputtered in disbelief and disgust. “We must keep up appearances, James. Otherwise, this will never work”. James let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a growl. “Agreed”, he said, and got on his feet.

“One last thing”, Rosalind said, halting him. James looked about ready to throw something heavy. “I will do my part to make your travelling to America possible; but as long as you are here, you will treat me with the respect a wife deserves. I do not expect you to be kind, or in any way affectionate and loving – you have made it clear that is not possible for you – but you will speak to me with curtesy, be honest and faithful; and never again imply that I am a whore”. “You dislike whores?”, James asked, a smile ghosting his face. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met one, so cannot say I do. After all, a woman must do what she can to survive in this world”, Rosalind replied. “But personally, I prefer sex without monetary exchange".

She got on her feet, and with a final smile, she left the kitchen; leaving a flabbergasted looking butler, and an angry looking husband in her wake. Rosalind smirked to herself, as she went to her room, to write down her plans for the renovation of Chamber House.

Soon after, she heard the front door slam, and felt the house shake from the sheer force of it.

---

She took in her lunch and dinner alone. In the evening, she was brushing her hair by the vanity, when her bedroom door opened, and James stood there, wet from the rainfall, and a devil in his eyes. Droplets of water fell from the brim of his hat, and onto his already soaking coat.

“Who?”, he said hoarsely. “What?”, Rosalind asked, shaken by his demeanor. “Who did you fuck?”, he growled. “Who did you let in you bed, while you belonged to me?”. She swallowed hard, and tried for a proud expression. “Maybe there was someone before you…”, she said. “No. You were untouched when I left. Now you are not. Who?”. He walked closer to her, and she got on her feet, backing away. “Geary?”. “No! I would never… Never him".

James grabbed her hand, and held it up in front of his, as if examining it. His grip on her wasn’t painful, but there was no way of releasing herself from it. He was strong, and had his mind set in one thing. Answers. They had not stood so close in years. “Then, who did this hand bring pleasure, hmm?”. He tugged her close, and with a firm grip on her wrist, he used his free arm to hold her in place against him; pressing it against her lower back. Rutting his hips forwards, they met hers, and Rosalind found it difficult to breathe, from the friction James' movement created. “And this? Tell me…”.

James broad frame was tense as a bowstring about to snap. His wet coat made the fabric of Rosalind’s nightgown damp, and she shivered, both from cold and from James pressing his groin against her own. “If I tell you, what will you do?”, she whispered. “I will kill him, for touching what is mine", James replied. “You left behind what was yours 10 years ago”, Rosalind retorted. “Since then, it has been mine to do with as I please. And for that, I will not let you commit murder. Do you mean to tell me you never laid with another woman while you were gone?". James growled some words Rosalind didn’t understand. She looked him in the eyes, never blinking or turning her gaze. She would not be intimidated. She was not in the wrong. “You don’t want me anymore. You should not be disturbed by the idea that another man does".

Unable to keep eye contact, James stepped back, letting out a snarling hiss, before turning around, and storming out of the room. “You left me, James. You left!”, Rosalind called after him. He slammed the door shut, and she fell to her knees, finally giving in to tears of heartache and a frustration over a need not fulfilled. She wanted her husband, soul and body; her own was practically screaming for his touch.

After a while, she climbed in to bed, and fell asleep, numb and empty of tears.

---

There were noises from the attic all night. Rosalind woke more than once, believing she’d heard voices, or maybe just one voice, having a conversation with itself.

When she woke in the morning, she spent some time mentally preparing herself for another day of loveless matrimony; and an, in spite of that, jealous husband. Then again, jealousy might be the wrong word. For all she knew, he might just be unhappy that someone touched his property. Brace had prepared breakfast for her in the sitting room. The house seemed, for once, not to be making a sound, and the silence was almost deafening.

“Where is he?”, she asked, once Brace entered the room, to take away James' uneaten breakfast. ”Finding another way to get himself killed, I’m sure", Brace grunted. “He left before sunrise”. “Why is he like this?”, Rosalind sighed. “What broke him?”. Brace looked at her with pained eyes. “James was broken long before he even knew it himself”, he said. “Whatever happened to him after he left England just brought it out, I’m afraid”. “I wish I had known…”. “Would you not have married him then?”. “I would. But maybe if I’d known, I could have…”. She couldn’t finish the sentence. “Saved him?”, Brace said. She looked down. “I believe that was his hope as well. I never saw him more alive, than just after he met and proposed to you”. “Then why did he leave?”, she whispered. “That is not for me to say, ma’am. But if he could have stayed, I believe he would have”. The butler gave her a sad smile disappeared out of the room again; leaving Rosalind to ponder his words, and remember.

---

There had been a ball, with drinks that were far too strong. She’d worn her favorite gown; one of red velvet, that she had made herself. Cadets from the academy had been present, and she’d not wanted for dance-partners. The only uniformed man who would not dance, stood brooding in a corner; gazing towards her once in a while. He looked deep in thought, and whatever that thought was, had put a deep furrow between his brows. Something made her want to see him smile, and when her partner in the next dance stepped on her toes for the third time, she caught the cadet’s gaze, and rolled her eyes. A hint of a smile traced his lips, and she felt her heart flutter at the sight. They’d spent the rest of the night in conversation, and when no one had looked he had broken all rules of propriety, and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of her lips. She had told herself that it was intoxication that had held her from slapping him; but truthfully, she knew better.

They had spent every chance they had the next month together, and whenever they had a private moment, their lips would meet; with each kiss growing bolder and more heated. Rosalind lived for his smiles and his gentle fingertips grazing her cheek. She knew it was lust, but she also knew it was love; and when suddenly he had dropped on one knee, she had not hesitated to agree to marry him.

They were wed six weeks after their meeting, with Rosalind never having been surer of anything in her life, than of James’ love for her, and hers for him. Then came the wedding night. With her heart in her chest, she had waited in what would be their bedroom from then on. He’d never entered the room, and she didn’t see him again for another 10 years.

---

The rest of the morning passed quietly. Unable to leave the house, Rosalind resolved to entertain herself by getting acquainted with the dog; who seemed to have no problem eating the salted beef she herself could not stomach. As she sat on the sofa to embroider, it fell asleep with its head on her feet. In the afternoon, she read the first three chapters of a book, before realizing that someone had ripped out pages from it; probably having used them for kindling. Boredom was taking over, but luckily Brace was obliged to play a few rounds of cards with her, before he had to tend to the kitchen. She noticed movement outside, and looking out the window, she saw a pair of rugged looking men tending to the garden, trying to make it look presentable.

James returned to the house just after she’d finished her dinner, with a young, dirty looking woman at his heels. He stepped in to the sitting room with a glum look on his face. “Your maid”, he said. “She will be here only during the day”. “I have employment elsewhere to attend to”, the young woman said; not meeting Rosalind’s eyes. Rosalind got on her feet and approached her husband. “I would have liked to speak to her, before you hired her”, she said. James stepped towards the dining table, away from Rosalind, and poured himself a brandy. “She has experience in the service industry, and you said you did not dislike whores”. The young woman stifled a smile.

Rosalind sighed defeatedly. “Right. What is your name, miss?”, she asked the woman. “Pearl, Mrs. Delaney”, the woman replied. “I’m glad to meet you, Pearl. Are you aware what your duties will be, as a maid?”. “Cleaning things, I suppose”, Pearl said. “I can’t cook, but I can make tea”. Pearl suddenly looked nervous that she might be sent away. “I don’t steal, and I don’t have no diseases!”. Rosalind smiled at her. “I’m sure you will do fine, Pearl. And we have Brace for cooking; don’t worry”. Pearl visibly relaxed. Rosalind noticed James looking at her through the corner of his eye, as he drank from his glass. “We shall have to find you a suitable dress, of course… Oh, and; I will on occasion receive guests here. I would very much appreciate it if you did not mention your other profession when I do”. “Just keep quiet whenever strangers are in the house”, James grunted. Rosalind sent him a chiding look. “When can you start?”, she asked. “Whenever you need me, ma’am”. “Tomorrow at 10 am, then”, Rosalind smiled. Pearl curtsied awkwardly, and took her leave.

Rosalind went back to sit on the sofa, and James took his seat in the chair across from her. He drained his glass, and set it down on the table next to him. Brace had left the mail for him there, and he picked it up, before seemingly remembering something. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out another letter. “This arrived for you at your former lodgings. Your landlady has opened and resealed it”, he said, and leaned forwards to hand it to her. “It’s from Mr. Geary”. “Did you read it as well?”, she muttered, and took the letter. “No, but I recognize his handwriting on the address. It looks like it was written in less anger than the one he sent me yesterday, threatening to kill me if I did not disappear from England again”. His tone was indifferent. “Well, I suppose it’s good you’re on your way to be doing that, then”, Rosalind said. He met her eyes again, and grunted nonsensically, before sitting back and going through his own mail.

Rosalind opened Geary’s letter.

To; Rosalind Beauchamp c/o Fanny Owen

My dearest Rosalind. I came to call upon you this Friday, but was told you were visiting with the countess Musgrove. It was my wish to extend my apologies for my unfortunate behavior when I saw you last. I realize I might have come across coarse in my manner of showing my affections towards you; but I pray you understand that I was struck by the urgency of the matter. With Delaney’s return, you see how I felt it necessary to make my plans of having you for my wife, known to you. I understand that for propriety’s sake, you had to let him escort you home; but I also know that deep in your heart you must long for me, as I do for you. Delaney will either fake his death, and leave England again, leaving you as heiress to the fortune – and the American piece of land – or actually die. Either way, you will be free of him; and we will be free to marry. We will have a rich and prosperous future together, my darling. With all my heart; Thorne.

Rosalind sighed and shook her head. “Another proposal?”, James asked. “Yes, actually”, she replied, and handed him the letter. James read through it quickly. “Well, he’s right about one thing. Before too long, you will be free to marry… Even him, if you’re daft enough to do so”. “He only wants me, because he thinks he can get your money that way”, Rosalind said. Picking up her needlework, she accidentally pricked her finger. “Fuck!”, she hissed, and put her bleeding finger in her mouth. James looked at her in startled amusement; his lips curling upwards. “I think you underestimate yourself”.

She got on her feet, and went to leave the room, when she made a decision, and turned around to face James again. “His name was William”, she said. James looked at her in confusion, before realization came through in his eyes. “William”, he grunted, and looked into the fire. “He was a soldier, but that is as much as I learnt about him”, Rosalind continued. “I was widowed, lonely and heartbroken; and for a moment, he made me believe I could be happy again”. “It only took him a moment, then?”, James said with a cold smile; but frowned when she began walking towards the door. “Rose…”. She halted, and looked at him again. “Don’t call me that…”, she said quietly. “I cannot bear to hear it now. That is what you called me when you loved me”. “No one else has ever called you that?”, he grunted. Rosalind shook her head, and swallowed hard. “No. That at least, was only ever yours. Good night”.

She retired to her bedroom.

---

She was in a forest, strange sounds and whispers surrounding her. He grabbed her shoulders from behind her, and leaned in to whisper into her ear. “Rose… my Rose”, he said. “Am I?”, she whispered. His arms snaked around her waist, and she leaned into his chest; feeling his lips against her cheek. “Yes. Always”. She turned around, and buried her face in the crook of his neck. “Not out there. Out there I am nothing to you. It is agony, my love”.

He leaned back, and put a finger under her chin; smiling at her. “Then let us stay here. We don’t have to go back”. The whispering around them intensified, and Rosalind looked around her. “I can’t live in a dream”. James took her right hand, and pulled the garnet ring from her finger; then lifted her left hand, and slid it onto her ring finger. “This is where it belongs, Rose”, he breathed, and leaned in; placing a soft kiss on her lips.

She woke with a gasp. Looking at her right hand, she panicked when she saw that the ring was gone from her finger. She frantically searched the bedsheets and cover to see where it had gone to; when she saw that it was right where it belonged. On her left ring finger.

---

[pars-ley]

Your eyes tell

Pairing: Prince Jungkook x Female Reader

Summary: When your best friend’s a prince and inherits the throne, he needs to find a wife to rule alongside him as Queen, you’re more than happy to help him choose an eligible bachelorette. But what happens when you, who only wants to marry for love, are forced to be one of the participants?  

Rating: (SFW) 13+

Genre: Royal au / Arranged marriage au / Angst / Fluff / Unrequited love

Word Count: 6400

Warnings: Serious angst. It will make you sick.

Prompts: Everything makes sense when you’re by my side. + I didn’t believe in love, not until I met you.

A/N: This is for the Golden Closet Network’s ‘Jungkook Birthday Project’ I stepped out of my comfort zone for this one, so hopefully it paid off. It’s from their two different perspectives. Italic font is Jungkook, normal font is reader. A big shout and a hell of a lot of thanks to @wheresmymoniat​ for helping me endlessly, especially through some serious writers block with the ending. She’s a darling.

Banner: @yeojaa​ honestly, she’s a goddess who went above and beyond to help me with this when I was struggling and offered out of the kindness of her heart, she also made the break lines for me cause she’s the BEST💕😘! 

Beta reader: @papillonsgf​ 😘

Meet Prince Jungkook...

As you hear the announcement escape his mouth, like a 'breaking news' headline silently screaming at you from behind bold, black print, all you can do is stare. The calmness in his voice, unmatched to his words echoing around in your mind, bouncing off the emptiness that has overcome you.

Your eyes sweep over him, the dark circles hanging heavy under his eyes, the exhaustion etched in his handsome face and the anxiety that rolls off him in waves.

A pain in your chest pulls at your emotions, a direct line to your heart just for him. Your body flung itself at him before you had time to register the action.

His arms curl around your waist, squeezing you, keeping you locked in place. His fingers digging into your back, making your anxiety for him creep up into your throat. You try to swallow it down, wanting to be strong for him but your mouth is suddenly without moisture

Your best friend is going to be King of Kalinia, that much you knew and that’s what is expected of a Prince but not now, not yet. 

All you can do is stand there, unmoving while he relays the details of his father's illness and his decision to step down from the throne. Meaning, all of it falling onto Jungkook’s shoulders. 

How could he bear all that weight on his own? Any normal man would crumble.

However, he is not any normal man, he is strong, determined, loyal, generous and one of the kindest men you know. But seeing him now, a shadow of all you know he is, you want to take it all away and harbour the load yourself, just to give him his freedom a little bit longer. 

The studying and travelling he’s been doing, all that now comes to an immediate halt, just as he had started to live his own life, it all comes crashing down around him. 

It’s your job to pick up the pieces and you’re more than happy to assume that role but it also means that your plans for travelling would have to be put on hold too. 

Your arrangement had been to meet Jungkook in Italy and travel around Europe together over the course of 2 months before returning to continue studies, but the idea of visiting these places alone, without him by your side, now seems a lot less appealing.

His slightly painful grip on your back, fingernails desperately digging in to provide some kind of anchorage for him, pulls you back into the present.

"Hey," you lean away so you can cradle his face in your hands. "It's just me right now, you can be honest. You don't have to pretend with me."

His wide eyes seem to tremble as they meet yours. "I just wasn't expecting this so soon." His voice interrupts the silence, slicing through it like a knife straight into your gut at his words. “I don't feel...ready for this. I thought I’d have more time to prepare and now, I have to find a wife. A WIFE!” 

The sorrow and anguish that fill his eyes overwhelm you with a heaviness in your chest, your pumping organ sinking like a rock to the pit of your stomach. But your mind is frozen, stuck on those last words you hear them rattling, echoing around in your mind, crashing against any thoughts you had like giant waves against rock. Wife? WIFE!

The ascending King cannot rule without a Queen by his side. That is the law of your country and the way it’s always been. You knew this, so why do you feel this way? How exactly do you feel? Sick. Panicked. Sombre. All of the above maybe? You just feel for the hardships that your friend is facing, that’s all it is, you tell yourself.

“I know, I know this has come as a shock but let me tell you, you’re meant to be King and you’re ready, even if you don’t feel like it. I have complete faith in you, Kook and I’ll be here every step of the way. I’ll even help you choose the right...wife.” You hesitate slightly, the words tasting like ash in your mouth.

He pulls you to him again. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Well, after he’s married and King, he’ll have to do without you. There'll be someone new to take care of him and do all the things you do together; to comfort him like this, to spend evenings star gazing and staring at the moon, to pick flowers in the Queen’s garden and have secret picnics in the meadows off grounds.

All of these moments with him won’t exist anymore. 

You feel empty at the thought. Almost as if someone reached inside and stole the most vital parts of you and put them on display behind an inaccessible, glass cage to watch beating and working without you.

As you cling to him, fingers gripped in his hair, cheek resting atop of his head, cradling him like your most precious possession, a tear escapes.

Your friend is slipping through your fingers, down into the depths of a world you won’t be able to follow and there's nothing you can do to stop it. You will lose him, that much you are sure of.

You glance over, her expression a smooth and flawless mask, never giving anything away. But you know her well enough to know that something has changed. She has not been the same since you revealed the news of your new-to-be title three weeks ago. 

Her usual brilliant, almost blinding light had dimmed into a burnt out candle, flickering on the last threads of its wick. No matter what you say to her she just smiles and says ‘I’m fine’. You might be clueless but you are determined to discover what’s changed.

As you sit here, discussing who, out of the fourteen eligible bachelorettes in the Kingdom, is most suited for being your future wife and Queen, you can’t help but find yourself thinking of only one. 

The one you wish you could have, the one you’d give anything to spend the rest of your days with but is the one who would never see you in such a way. 

As she sits across from you, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her delicate fingers tracing down her neck. God, how you longed for it to be you caressing her so tenderly, to be able to hold her and tell her what she means to you, to have her by your side instead of these paper faces staring up at you waiting for paper rings. All of them from good families, smart, pretty, the perfect persona for the outside world to see but completely and utterly tedious to you. There wasn’t a single thing written in this bleak print that held your interest even a fraction of the way y/n could. 

“Your majesty?” An indistinct voice snaps you out of your trance.

Her eyes flash up to meet yours and you look away quickly, hoping no one has noticed your forlorn stare at the true object of your affection.

“Yes?” You reply, trying to seem present in the room discussing your future as if you weren’t even here.

“Who are you choosing, your majesty?” An advisor asks nervously.

Her. Always her. A thousand times over. In this life and the next and any other after that may follow. 

“We need a final three, so we can move on to the next round of tests.”

Round? Tests? This was your life and here it is being discussed as if it were a gameshow. 

Your stomach twists, fear rises in your throat making it feel tight. You take a gulp of water, allowing the coolness to sooth you, and look at the sheets placed in front of you. The faces blurring along with the writing. 

“Y/n, what are your opinions?” You ask, genuinely curious who she’d pick for you. 

She’d choose someone who was strong enough to rule but also sensitive enough to be a decent match for you and that was all you could hope for at this point, a decent match. The three words everyone aspires to describe their life partner.

You wait with baited breath for her response, somewhere deep down in the pits of your heart where hope was long ago locked away and buried beneath years of friendly rubble, it makes an alarming surprise visit, breaking through the debris with ease. You cling to the book of secrets that’s been held captive there in a vault created from torment and in the dark corners you’re on your knees, praying to a god you don’t think will listen. Praying you hear her utter all the impossible things you know she never will. The desperation inside you, clawing to escape out of the refined, solid cage you built, you’re clenched fists under the table fighting to keep it down along with your breakfast.

Everything stills and slowly starts to wither away back to its original place, the place where it belongs, when she nonchalantly reads off three names...none of them hers.

"You've been ordered to participate y/n." The royal adviser informs you, his words ringing like high-pitched sirens in your ears. 

"I'm sorry, ordered by whom?" You frown, not understanding, the very idea of what he’s suggesting baffling your mind.

He sighs awkwardly, it’s obvious he did not want to be the one standing in front of you with your hot molten glare on him.

"Who gave the order?” You persist, when his silence is the only response you receive.  

He looks down, away from your blazing eyes. “Her majesty, the Queen.”

You freeze, the ground feeling as if it would break away under your feet. What!? Why would she force you to participate in this? She knows you do not want to be Jungkook’s wife and that he would not want you to be his? 

This makes no sense. You’ve always had such a lovely relationship with his parents. When you befriended Jungkook, they welcomed you in with open arms and loving smiles, encouraged your friendship and supported you with every decision along the way, so why do this? 

“I need to speak with her majesty.” You say through gritted teeth, not only from anger but your attempt at trying to keep down the bile you can feel burning your throat like lava.

He gives you a sharp nod and leads you to her quarters, not that you needed to be shown, you know this castle like the back of your hand, everything in it was both familiar and safe. 

As he announces you, you swallow, desperate to wet your dry throat pinching the air that passes with every breath. You hold back your cough in favour of clearing your throat, hoping to relieve the desert patch you feel, gravel grazing your insides down into the pit of your stomach.

When you enter she greets you with a broad, bright smile, a smile that contrasts so drastically to how you feel and, for once, you can’t bear to return it.

Her face drops slightly, but you see a twinkle of amusement in her eyes that makes your blood boil hot and irate in your veins. “Oh y/n, don’t pout, it doesn’t suit you.” She pats the seat next to her on her plush ornate sofa where she resides and places her book on the table in front.

You close the distance between you and sit rather woodenly at her side.

“The rules are the rules y/n, it’s nothing personal but I wouldn’t be doing my duty if I treated you differently. You know that.” Her eyes are so honest, a window right into her soul, lighting up and giving you a glimpse as to what it’s like to play her role. 

“But I can’t be his wife!” You exclaim. “He would never want me that way.” You urge, shaking your head at the sheer hilarity of the idea.

You’re met with a poker straight stare, unmoving, her skin still smooth after all these years, unreadable and hard as stone. Picture perfect, a royal portrait ready to be framed with gold. “If that’s the case, what are you worried about?”

You open your mouth to respond but the words are squeezed around your panic induced, contracting throat. Your words seem far away, as you grapple desperately for them.

She places a gentle hand on your knee, the touch calming you instantly. "Y/n listen to me, I know this whole situation has come as a shock to you and to Jungkook, believe me it's still processing for the King and I, but this is our life, however unfortunate, we have a duty. Now, you are not bound to this life by any means, but participating in this is your duty." 

She watches you for a moment, her intense gaze making you shift in your seat, as if she was seeing straight into you, everything you held laid bare for her own personal exhibit. "I know it’s hard, the idea that someone will take your place at his side, but he needs a wife and we know you don't want it to be you." Her piercing eyes driving a quick, sharp needle into yours, you look away unable to hold her intruding stare.

"Of course not." You retort with a snort.

She sits back on her sofa, her posture softening, relaxing against the cushioned back. She smiles staring at her hands placed in her lap, as if amused by an inside joke you're not privy to.

"You need to start listening to your heart more than your head, y/n, it will save you a lot of heartbreak in the future." 

Perplexed by this unexpected turn in conversation you find yourself frowning. "What do you mean?" 

Kindness stretching her mouth into a friendly curve. "My child, it seems I know you better than you know yourself. Your eyes tell."

"Tell what?" You shake your head trying to clear the mud in your mind, making her words impossible to understand.

"Everything." She sighs and stands. "I'm afraid I cannot get you out of this but as you said, you know he won't choose you, so there's no need to panic, is there?" 

She saunters gracefully out of the room leaving you with only your bewildered thoughts.

There's a double meaning in her last words but you struggle to determine what it could be.

And how would she know you better than you do? There's a hint of anxiety at what she saw in your eyes, at what you'd apparently given away to her. Your thoughts race, unable to connect her words to your reasoning and you leave the room feeling more frustrated and perplexed than when you entered.

You lean over the pages of the final women you have to choose from, head down eyes unwavering from the same spot you’ve been looking at for what feels like a lifetime. You’ve gone from three possible wives to four, the latter you’re sure if you take your eyes off the page it will disappear before you. 

Can this be real? Did she agree to this? Did she nominate herself to take part? Hope blossoms dangerously in your chest, flowering around your heart, encasing it in a prison of promise. A prison you’re creating, you know it but cannot stop. Your thoughts run away with you, visions of your dreams becoming reality within your grasp. 

You and her sneaking off grounds for picnics and play dates in the sun, trekking through the forest and taking the row boat out around the river bend, travelling to Paris and visiting the Notre Dame; somewhere she’s always wanted to go, the two of you snapping your own love lock on a branch of a tree with your initials entwined together and throwing away the keys in a nearby river. All the hopeless romantic things you’ve wanted to do, becoming a possibility, the excitement causing butterflies to fly rampantly in your stomach.

You push your chair out, finding your feet and rushing out of the room to find her. 

As you parade down the golden ornate halls, feeling as though you’re being carried by eagles wings, floating across the grounds being pulled in her direction. Her face; the only thing guiding your vision, maybe cupid’s arrow finally aimed in the direction you were hoping for, maybe god finally heard you. 

You find her by the fountains, her favourite place here, sitting staring at the water as if it holds the answers to all life’s problems. She hears your approach, her eyes snapping up to yours before quickly looking away to hide the tears you’ve already seen and brushing her face with her sleeve. 

You step down off the wings, coming crashing back down to earth, the butterflies turning to acid in your stomach and tasting it in your mouth as you rush to her side. Pulling her against you, wrapping her up in a cocoon of comfort and love. 

“Y/n, what’s wrong? Tell me.” You urge, panic tightening your gut, squeezing your insides in a vice. 

“I’m sure you’ve seen. I’ve been forced to participate in your bride-to-be pageant.” She spits bitter words aimed at you, hope clams up and collapses inside you. 

You realise how foolish you’d been to let yourself believe that she could want this like you crave, that she could see you anything like how you admire her, that she could feel for you the way you worship her. Your heart feels heavy, sinking in your chest and resting in the loveless hole gaping open, revealing your insides. The dullness overtakes you, seizing your limbs one by one, you’re unable to listen to the words she angrily ranting. A cloud of darkness swallowing you whole and you gladly take it by the hand, allowing it to draw you in. Maybe you’d forget if you stayed in there, in the dark. Maybe you’d forget about her if you just gave yourself the chance. 

She doesn’t want this, she doesn’t want you, that much is clear. So how can you choose her? Even if that is what you truly and honestly desire more than anything. You could not put her through that. She deserves to feel the way you do about someone, even if that person can’t be you, she deserves it, she deserves love. It was time to release her, to let her go. 

The thought had tears prick in your eyes, you quickly blink them away. 

“You don’t have to worry Y/n, it’s just a formal procedure. I won’t choose you, you’re off the hook.” The words leave you quickly, before you change your mind and sound like they belong to someone else. You would never say them, would you?

She pauses and looks up at you, her tear stained cheeks; you itched to reach out and wipe the shiny, salty trails away but you clench your hand into a fist to stop yourself. “You won’t?” She asks in disbelief.

“Of course not.” You try to give her a reassuring smile but it feels false, painted on like the many royal portraits you grew up staring at.

She stares back out at the fountain, back stiff against you. Your arms fall loosely away from her. “Oh, well, that’s a relief.” She sighs and yet, her reaction perplexes you. You thought she’d seem happier, instead she just seems blank. 

“Hey, chin up.” You nudge her jaw with your fist, a friendly gesture you had done many times. When she arches away from it, the action makes your insides twist, unable to understand. 

What have you done wrong? You couldn't win, nothing seemed like the right decision anymore.

Why did she seem to be slipping further and further away from you? Even though she sat right next to you, your arms lightly touching at the proximity, she had never felt further away from you. Just out of reach of your grasp.

He had spoken the words you hoped for and yet, you couldn't describe this overwhelming feeling that had draped over you almost instantly, like a blanket of despair. It has enveloped you more and more over the passing weeks.

As you watch him and her, his chosen bride, from your perch of loneliness you felt annoyance grow inside you. You're his friend, his best friend, you should be happy if he's happy. 

You watch him smile at her, occasionally he might take her hand in his or tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Things he used to do with you, but it seems different with her, more intimate. And yet it’s funny how you know neither of them have romantic feelings for one another, it's all a façade, it’s all forced. 

Why would anyone want to live like that? A loveless marriage. You couldn't wrap your head around the concept.

Was she so desperate to become queen? It's not like she has much of a choice though, those of you within certain households, certain names and certain social standing had a duty. It has been drummed into you since you can remember. That had only acted to make you more determined not to live like that.

You were free, he'd told you himself and yet you couldn't help but sit here; consumed by hopelessness.

Not for yourself surely, but for him. He now had to live the life you dread.

Maybe you should have said you'd marry him, put your selfishness aside and given him a friend in marriage instead of a stranger but it was too late now. Any hope of saving him was out of your reach, all you could do was watch as he made the biggest mistake of his life.

He should be with someone who knows when he's upset just by the look in his wide eyes, who knows each crease in his face when it crinkles when he smiles, who knows each line of his secret tattoos he always keeps hidden. He needs someone he can be himself with, someone who would do anything to see him happy, someone who would do everything to protect him and keep him safe. Someone he can have adventures with as well as make tough decisions with, someone who will bear him beautiful children and raise them to be just as loving and kind as him. He deserves all that and more. 

Miss what's-her-name will never be able to give him that. She'll never be good enough. She'll never know what he wants or needs, not like you would.

You know him better than anyone. You could make him happy. So why wouldn't he pick you?

If he's not choosing for love why wouldn't you be first choice, surely that's obvious. Then again, why should you want him to choose you? 

You were free to marry whoever you wanted. So, why now did the thought of Jungkook marrying her weigh you down with a rock in your gut, consuming you, making it impossible for you to move without thinking of anything other than her being with him. Touching him. Possibly loving him. Being his wife and her stomach being full with his children. 

Why did it burn you so much you could hardly breath? Clawing for air with ragged breaths, you had to uproot your feet from their planted spot and go. Go anywhere the sickening sight of them wasn't, the last image of them walking through the palace gardens hand in hand was enough to overflow the salty dam in your eyes, crumbling with your resolve to hold it in. Your realisation, as you turn away from him, hitting you like a ton of bricks. 

The blanket of night that had been covering you - concealing you from the light, from the truth, had finally been lifted. 

How could you not have seen it? 

How could you not have known?

The way he could make you smile through anything, or the way your stomach fluttered sometimes in his presence, or the way he knew you better than anyone and always seemed to know what you were thinking. 

He was your glowing, peaceful moon lighting up the dark sky.  The colourful morning sunrise, warming the chill of the night. The roots of your tree, keeping you grounded and yet the bright blossoms in the field bringing you comfort. 

After all these years...you finally understood.

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind Charlotte’s ear, the action almost mechanical, something you should do as opposed to something you want to. 

With y/n it was an excuse to feel her skin against your fingers, a chance to give her a caring caress and a subtle way to show her how you care. It fell on deaf ears or blind eyes, rather. All your efforts to show her your feelings, to attempt to get her to notice your heart, wide open and ready for the taking, went unnoticed. Maybe you should have uttered the words into her ear one day, laying in the meadow, basking under the sun.

But you didn’t. 

You’ve made your decision. It’s Charlotte. She is to be your wife and your queen. 

Perhaps, one day, you might feel something more deeply than the awkward discomfort making your toes curl. After all, tomorrow you will be standing in the palace with an audience and a live broadcast as you announce your bride and their queen to be. 

It's your duty, there's no escaping it, you know this. And yet, your chest is weighed down, tight with an anchor pulling you underwater as you fight and kick against the waves of emotions crashing against you. Clawing your way to the surface and fighting for breath as hopelessness fills your lungs. The box your heart was kept in for her, now feels like an empty cage. Hollow. She left, not physically but in spirit, and took your beating organ with her, the life slowly draining in her absence.

But here you are still standing, unable to give up and let go. 

You had to. You needed to move on and away from her, perhaps one day you'll be able to stop picturing her face, hearing her laugh or the smell of her skin.

Your agonising thoughts running rampant in your mind made you want to scream up at the sky. At a god you were rapidly losing faith in.

You needed to be alone and get yourself together. 

You made your excuses, apologising to your fiancé - an invisible noose around your neck pulling tight from the very thought of who she was to you and who she would be for the rest of your life - and left, albeit rather abruptly. 

Rushing to the stables and guiding your horse out of palace grounds, racing away from decision making and royal duty.

The wind against your face, cool air relentless as you speed across fields but cooling your burning skin, ablaze with frustration. The sound of hooves thundering against the ground seem to echo out around you in otherworldly quiet, giving away your position to everyone. 

They'll search for you soon, you know this but you just need to breathe. You need to feel your lungs expanding and shrinking on their own, moving how they should, without barbed wire squeezing around them, digging in with every draw in of air and stopping you short. 

You needed a last moment of freedom, before the tight noose of your responsibilities squeezed around your neck and choked you.

Your breathing came hard and harsh as you pushed your horse as fast as he could go, until the meadow came into view, your meadow and hers. You'd ended up here, again. This special place, holding so many memories.

You climb off your horse and sink down into the grass, each blade a page of remembrance tying the two of you together. A bond you thought indestructible and yet, here you are desperately clinging onto her in fistfuls of grass.

You understood, your life is on the cusp of changing forever, no going back, it's a life she cannot be a part of in the same way. Of course she'd want to move away from it all, if you could…it's irrelevant because you can't.

Duty to country before anything and everything else. Being a good ruler should be your main concern right now. And yet, you are plagued with the thought…'what if i had told her?' 

What if.

Would it have made any difference? Probably not.

Would your friendship have been ruined? Probably.

But at least, if you had been brave enough to utter the words, even once, then you wouldn't feel as incomplete as you do right now. On your knees, gripping onto the turf as if to hold you in place, head against the ground and eyes squeezed shut.

If there's one last thing you should say, even to unburden yourself after all these years and remove the heavy shawl of emotion that’s been draped across your shoulders, weighing you down, it should be your truth. Finally.

Not for any expectation of reciprocation but to know that you did everything you could. No regrets when you look back at the choice you've had to make.

Just the truth.

The horse was already moving as you had one foot in the rung of the saddle and the other straddling across it. 

"Jungkook's missing." The words from the royal advisor replay anxiously in your head, making your heart pound violently against your ribs, playing its own panicked score.

He left the palace hours ago on his horse and hasn't been seen since. The way your gut twists at the direction your thoughts take has your fists clenched painfully around the reigns.

You bolt out of the palace gates, hoping you know exactly where he'll be. 

Trees whip past you at alarming speed but you dare not slow down. You need him to be ok. You need him to hear what you have to say. You need him.

Scanning the distance frantically, looking for the break in the trees, revealing the meadow, your heart almost stops when your eyes finally land upon it. 

You spot his horse first, then see his hunched figure leaning over in the grass and fear takes your heart and locks it in a vice grip so painful tears fill your wild eyes.

You're already climbing off before the hooves have stilled.

"Jungkook!" You hear his name in a strangled scream and realise it's you the distraught voice has escaped from.

As you sprint in his direction, he sits straight up, surprised eyes shooting up to you and relief washes over you like rough waves crashing against the shore.

Your body collides heavily with his, a thump sounding out all around you into the usually calming silence. The air leaves his lungs in a hiss as he's flung backwards to the ground. 

You squeeze your arms around him, holding him so close and so tight, frightened he'll be carried off into the wind like the seeds from the dandelion puff balls surrounding you.

His arms hesitantly wrap around your waist as if worried you'll break. 

You pull yourself back to look at his beautiful face, to make sure he's ok and in one piece but the shock that widens his doe-like eyes momentarily distracts you.

"Y/n, what's wrong!?" He fusses, wiping softly at your tear trails with gentle thumbs. Cradling your face in his hands, worry lines wrinkling his forehead as if he has reason to worry about you.

Hot tears fall fervently from your eyes, unable to be stopped. You smile at him, tracing his smooth cheekbones and sharp jawline with your fingers. 

Seeing him and looking into his eyes in this moment, it's undeniable your heart belongs to him.

How you never realised is truly mind blowing, it's so obvious now, all your confusing thoughts and feelings towards this entire situation suddenly made clear. 

Overwhelmed to the point your chest is so full of him it feels ready to burst, sprinkling your special place with heart-shaped confetti etched with his name. 

"I have to tell you something, before it's too late." You say taking a deep breath and straightening your back with determination, as you sit almost on his lap.

His worrying eyes search yours, frantically going from one to the other, trying to read you, trying to find answers to unasked questions.

"Over the past few weeks, I've been trying to understand...all of the memories we've made, and the places we've spent time together, they're very special to me, I hope you know that? I hold them very dear. And I was afraid of you having this other person to share them with and that i would be pushed out —"

"Y/n, I would never do that." He insisted, cupping your face in his hand. He means it too, it's written all over his face, your own personal scripture of truth.

"I know." You say softly, smiling and interrupting him before you lose your nerve to continue. "My point is, I thought it was the idea of being replaced by her that was bothering me so much but I realised something…I've been an absolute idiot." You laugh to yourself, feeling freer than ever. 

He stares back at you with bewildered amusement.

"It's never been where we were or what we did that made everything so special...it was you. You are the centre of it all. You're the person who knows me better than anyone. You're the one who makes me endlessly and purely happy. You make me feel safe and protected. You are...home. Everything makes sense when you’re by my side. Wherever you are, I want to be. Whether that be as your wife, your queen or just your friend...if your decision is still to be with Charlotte, I will support you throughout —"

"Wait, I'm confused. At the fountain the other day,  you were distraught at the idea of marrying me, you were relieved when I told you I wouldn't choose you?"

You look down at your hands that are now in your lap, ashamed you didn't realise then in that moment what is so clear to you now. 

"I didn't understand then. But I wasn't relieved, my heart felt like it was caving in on itself. I didn't want to be in the running because I never thought you'd choose me. I told myself I didn't want you to, I didn't want to be a part of it, when the actual truth of it is I wanted to be your only choice, not the best out of a bad bunch but I couldn't face the idea that you might not choose me."

You feel your cheeks tinge crimson from your words, feeling sheepish for your naivety. 

You peek up at him shyly through your lashes. He's frozen and wide eyed, staring at you curiously.

"So what exactly are you saying y/n? So I can understand this correctly." His quiet, breathy voice makes your heart pound faster and harder than ever. Each thrum vibrating through you with the sound of his name to accompany its beat.

You gulp loudly, digging deep for your last ounce of courage, to utter the words. To say them out loud makes it real, equally as the possibility of affirmation or rejection. You take another breath, your eyes meeting his, those pools of ebony you could so easily get lost in. "I'm in love with you."

The silence that follows is almost deafening as you prepare yourself for a sweet, gentle refusal. But you're perplexed when you see his perfect lips upturn and stretch, beaming at you like a ray of sunshine. He moves forward to you quickly, you lean in anticipating his next words. But when his lips crush against yours instead, it doesn’t register for a moment or two, you stiffen before your body's primal response takes over and your hands find their way up into his hair, skating your fingers through his silky locks.

The feel of his soft mouth on yours was undeniably alluring, pulling you in deeper with each movement of his lips. Your heart pounds frantic in your chest as the feel of his hands around your waist, holding you flush against him, your bodies moulded tight almost as one was enough to enthral you entirely. When he abruptly pulls back, you feel cold and needy. Your heart, now an open wound, seared by his kiss, bleeding love uncontrollably. 

He holds your face in his hands, foreheads touching and breathing heavy. “How I have longed to hear you say those words.” He whispers.

Your eyes bulge at his admission but as you open your mouth to speak, he lifts a finger against your lips to silence you. 

“I didn’t believe in love, not until I met you. I could only ever imagine a life and a marriage destined to be only friendly and passionless. But I have loved you since that first summer we met and I have wished everyday since for you to feel even a fraction of the way I do for you.” 

He tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering gently on the skin of your neck. “Tell me again.” He pleads.

“I love you.” You lean forward and kiss him again. “I love you.” You utter the words between quick, desperate kisses causing him to groan against your mouth. His arm snakes around your waist and the ground leaves you, air breezing through your hair. You’re on your feet before you know it and your gaze is drawn downwards to him, in front of you, on one knee. 

He tightly grips your hand in both of his. “I have waited long enough for you. I saw a glimpse of a world without you by my side and it was monochrome and cold. I don’t want that. I want to see the colours when you look at me and smile so sweetly. I need to hear your laugh, my personal symphony. And if you would take my hand and walk the path into tomorrow and forever with me as my wife and my Queen, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make yours as colourful and joyous as mine will be. Marry me, please?”

You feel hot tears sting your eyes as happiness blooms deep in your chest. A bright orange tiger flower blossoming for him, a beacon of light and joy calling to you, showing you your rightful and chosen path. All these wasted years shall be no more and new ones accompanied by new memories await.

“Yes!”