#Isabela is a mess around and find out

[fanfoolishness]

Ooh 5 letters between two of your OC’s companions about them?

Thank you for this codex ask! I have sat on it for weeks but today is the day. Gotta distract myself from them fires amirite? :-D These are for Asla Mercar.

---

Harding: Hope you're doing okay after the whole 'found an angry rock version of yourself' thing. You seem happier. That's good. But if you're not you know where to find me if you wanna smash shit. I'd be pissed about all that stuff if I was a dwarf. Also congrats on you and Rook. She keeps walking around looking all giddy. It's cute. Taash

--

Dear Taash, Who told you about me and Rook??? Also, thank you. It was overwhelming to feel all of that pain and rage from the Titans, but I think I'm coming to terms with it. I still feel connected to everything, but I feel so much lighter. Does that make sense? Like there's a way forward now, where I can remember the past without being bowed down by it. Seriously though, did Emmrich say something? Harding

--

Harding: It wasn't Emmrich. Remember my sense of smell? Comes in handy for stuff like this. And I won't tell anyone if you don't want. I get it. Sometimes you wanna keep stuff just for yourself for a while. You two are good together. I can see she really cares about you. When we were checking out the Warden fortress with Davrin in Rivain she kept talking about you. "Lace would think this is so neat. Look at all this old stonework!" "I wonder if Lace's magic would work here." "I could really go for a ham and jam slam right now." She smiles way more when she talks about you. Glad you're feeling better. The stone magic is badass. We should see if we can power it up with dragonfire or something. Better ask Emmrich about that too. Taash

--

Dear Taash, Okay fine, yes, Rook and I are seeing each other. I have to be careful because my magic keeps almost giving her lyrium poisoning when we -- um -- try to be... affectionate? Ugh, that sounds bad. But when I get excited, or emotional, it just sort of comes out! Last time she was dizzy for an hour. That's the only reason I asked Emmrich about it. I mean, I certainly know how to do things under normal circumstances. She said all that about me? Stop it, you're making me blush. She's just the best, isn't she? I know everything is so hard right now, and the world keeps trying to end, and she's carrying all of that on her shoulders, but I'm just so happy right now. After losing Varric, and everything I've learned about the Titans... I can look into her eyes (did you know they're two different colors? Green and hazel? They're so pretty!) and just be Lace. And it helps. She helps. I asked Emmrich about dragonfire and stone magic. He said neither's really his area of expertise, but based on what he's observed, he recommended finding somewhere with a LOT of open space just in case everything explodes. Let's try it! Maybe the arena at the Hall of Valor? Harding

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Harding: You're on. I'll have Isabela set up a match. Drinks at the Hilt after? You can invite Rook to join us too. I bet she'll cheer you on. Sorry stuff's been hard. But I'm glad it's getting better even if the world's messed up. Now let's go blow something up. Taash

[awardenandacrow]

SNIPPET 44

[Naimeryn has a favor to ask of Teia]

CW/TW: strong language, brief suggestive themes.

NOTE: thanks to @ / manilamanzo on Threads for helping me finally find a unique endearment, in Italian, for Lucanis to use for Naimy. Any snippets where he calls her “mi Vida” will be updated in time muahahaha.

ALSO NOTE: This snippet falls chronologically sometime after The Scene They Cut (I believe this was Snippet 11, but I’ll edit the post if I’m wrong). There’s a hint who Naimy’s dad is in this snippet. Comment if you catch it ;)

——————————————————————————

“Teia,” Naimeryn sidled up to her, lowering her voice. “Can I talk to you for a second? It’s for a.. personal matter.”

“Oooh, consider me intrigued,” she flashed her most winsome smile. “Vi, entertain the boys for a bit.”

“You know that can *only* be bad for you, right?” Viago asked Lucanis as Teia swept Naimeryn away, towards the stairs to her private quarters. Naimeryn flushed and hoped Lucanis did not believe him.

“I assume… everyone knows, then?” She mumbled.

Teia linked her arm through hers and gave her hand a little squeeze.

“He was *not* subtle when he stole you away from the celebration,” she laughed. “Tell me, where did you go? What did you do? I must know *everything!*”

Embarrassment was not the only warmth that spread through Naimeryn. She had spent so many years all alone — even after finally befriending Amaya and Greta, they’d been gone from Weisshaupt more often than not. But now… now she had so many people who cared and were interested in being around her, in hearing her stories, in talking with her. The team, Antoine, Evka, Isabela… she was so grateful Teia was one of them.

As they settled together onto Teia’s couch, Naimeryn recounted the events at the river with flushed cheeks and a fluttering heart, unsure if it was okay to be detailed, but too aware of her captive audience to hold back. The two women laughed and giggled and squealed, Teia expressing congratulations and excitement on her behalf. Naimeryn thought again of all of the friends she now had who supported her in this, were *happy* for her, and for Lucanis. She buried her face in her hands, smiling so hard her face hurt.

“Ah, it is good to see you so happy,” Teia told her. “When we met, you were such a dejected little thing. And as I got to know you, as someone who also came from nothing… well, I’m just glad you found each other in this great big mess.”

“But, I have directed the conversation entirely in the direction *I* desired,” she said, leaning back. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

Naimeryn pulled her hands away from her face, nerves fluttering in her stomach. She took a deep breath. “He called me something that night. Something in Antivan, and I don’t know a word of it. I know it would be difficult to find the time amidst —“

She waved her hand vaguely in the air. “— all this. But I was wondering if, maybe… you could help me learn Antivan?”

“*Stop*,” Teia gasped, beginning to laugh. She became deadly serious again just as quickly. “It is too sweet, I may perish. I think this is an excellent plan! When we are through, Lucanis will not know what hit him.”

“Yeah?” Naimeryn grinned what felt like from ear to mangled ear. “You’ll do it?”

“Of course!” Teia opened her arms and waved her hands towards herself, and Naimeryn accept d her embrace. “It will be my pleasure.”

“Davrin, I’m telling you, you have a deathwish!” They heard Lucanis shout.

“Oops,” Naimeryn giggled. “Hangry Davrin is *no* fun.”

A banging at the door. “Rook, if you make me miss out on the khatchipuri while it’s hot, I *will* throw you into the Deep Roads myself!”

Teia and Naimeryn burst out laughing, and Viago opened the door to allow the other two entrance. Lucanis looked just as nervous as Viago had told him he needed to be, poor thing. Davrin scowled at her with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I forgot it’s khatchipuri night,” Naimeryn said to Teia, patting her friend on the arm as she stood. “I will willingly throw *myself* into the Deep Roads if I miss it.”

“We must have Bellara here to make it for us one night,” Teia said, standing as well. “I find I am quite curious.”

“It is good,” Lucanis told her. Without thinking much of it, Naimeryn had wandered right over to him and wound her fingers through his. He looked a bit surprised, but closed his hand quickly around hers, as though he thought she’d change her mind. *No chance.* She fought the urge to lay her head onto his shoulder. They hadn’t really talked about what they were and weren’t comfortable with just yet.

“Yes, good. So let’s go. Before we don’t get any,” Davrin said impatiently, waving them back out of Teia’s door.

“All right, all right,” Naimeryn laughed. “We’re going!”

“Rook, wait,” Teia dragged her back, whispering into her good ear. “What did he call you? I’m dying to know.”

Naimeryn was sure she’d somehow mispronounce it, but she would never forget the way his voice had sounded when he said it. “Oh, forgive my pronunciation, but I believe it was ‘mia fiamma?’”

Teia blinked at her, and she thought maybe she was remembering wrong. Then a slow, knowing smile spread across Teia’s face.

“What?” Naimeryn asked. “What does it mean?”

“Naimeryn Surana Thorne, if you don’t get your ass down these stairs I’m going to sling you over my shoulder!” Davrin’s shout made her jump out of her skin.

“Who the *fuck* told you my middle name?!” She shouted, spinning to start down the stairs after him, Lucanis’s laugh mingling with their continued bickering. Naimeryn would not find out what Lucanis had called her that night. As the three of them disappeared down the stairs, Viago put his arm around Teia’s shoulders.

“Lucanis calls her *his flame,*” she smirked up at him. Viago thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Suitable, for a woman out to kill *gods.* Someone strong enough to destroy anything in her path.”

“*And,*” Teia rolled her eyes at him, not surprised he thought everything was about the fight, “someone who can shine light into the darkness, illuminate the path ahead, warm the loneliness away.”

“Romantic,” Viago scowled. “I suppose you *do* have his number better than I.”

“I love when you admit I’m better at something than you are,” Teia laughed, and soundly knocked her door shut with her hip.

[usedtobeguest123]

My grandma passed away this last week. She was the matriarch of my family, raising a brood of boys on her own in a new country, and the life I have now I owe to her dedication and sacrifice. She is part of why the character of Abuela resonates so strongly with me, not because of their similarities in character, but because of how meaningful it was to see a story like hers represented in a beautiful, celebrated way in mainstream media.

I'll miss her dearly.

I was going through my unused writing snippets and I found this old one I had started for Encantober "Grief" and never finished. I polished it up a bit and offer it up now in my Abuela's honor. It's inspired by this Twitter-posted poem that resonated with so many people. While I know that there's so much more to the everlasting life after this one, this poem speaks such beauty and childlike peace into that transition, and I adore it for that.

Also, for some reason, I always thought that when the time came for Abuela to pass on, Camilo in particular would have a hard time letting go. Let it in, let it out, let it rain, let it snow, let it go, and all that. He seemed a fitting recipient for this, and also someone likely to ask an uncomfortable question.

Love you Grandma; God bless you and keep you. I can't wait to see you in again in paradise ❤️

------

It had been happening all. freaking. day.

He’d turn the corner, see a cup or a flower or a damn leaf that somehow reminded him and poof, he’d be someone else. Papi. Dolores. Luisa—a mess of people in quick succession. Thank God he’d managed to keep from changing into her. He didn’t think he could deal with that. Ay, he didn’t think any of them could.

No one blamed him though. When Mirabel witnessed one of his involuntary shifts on his way to the kitchen that morning, she’d just looked at him with that sappy, stupid face she was always making and gave him a hug that maybe did help him feel a little better.

Papi had clapped him hard on the back, keeping a steadying hand on his shoulder as he shifted back down into his own skin. He'd nodded solemnly, giving him a gentle, encouraging lift under the chin.

Tía Julieta just gave him an extra helping at lunch, teary-eyed yet smiling warmly as always.

But it still sucked.

Dios why couldn’t he just get a grip? He felt so jumpy. Everything set him off. He snapped at Antonio when one of his coatis left cacas outside his room again. Even as he spoke he’d known his voice was a too harsh for the situation. He snapped Isabela, and for once she didn’t snap back. She just sent a tiny bloom of flowers settling into his shirt pocket, their stems only a little spikey. He even snapped at Casita when they both knew he'd just tripped on his own two feet.

But he made sure he was on his absolute best behavior around Mami. You want to talk about jumpy? He had nothing on her. Poor Ma.

He managed to hold it together through the rosary, and the next day at mass too, by some miracle. The ceremony was harder, but he pulled through. But then came the reception. Everyone was talking to him and hugging him and offering condolences and ay how many times can you say thank you, I know she's at peace with just the right sad smile before the words start to lose all meaning? Thank you thank you thankyouthankyo—

So. Phwooo. Here he was now, sneaking out of the reception to the back porch of Casita when no one was looking, just to try to fill his stale lungs with a little more air.

After he shut the door quietly behind him, giving a small pat to the wall in thanks to his accomplice Casita, he turned and was surprised to find he in fact was not alone. There, on the small step that led out to the back patio, was Tío Bruno, a rat of course sitting on his shoulder. Eck. Camilo felt a little shiver go down his back.

He considered turning around to find his own private place to brood, but something stopped him. After a moment, and a small nudge from the tiles beneath his feet, he quietly approached instead.

“Hey,” he said lamely.

“Oh!” Bruno startled, flailing comically, but recovered quickly. “Oh, h-hey there Milo.”

Guess I'm not the only one who’s jumpy.

“Do you mind if I…?” he gestured at the empty spot on the stairs next to his tío.

Bruno nodded rapidly, flapping at the spot with his hands and scooting over a minute amount that made absolutely no difference in available space. Camilo sat.

For a while, they didn’t say anything. The rat had disappeared from Tío Bruno’s shoulder to God knows where. They watched the leaves sway on the large gnarled tree that stood proudly behind Casita.

Man, how old was that thing? It had been there as long as he could remember. At some point, a planter had been built around it where Isabela grew a perpetual explosion of flowers, and a swing hung from one of its thicker branches, but he'd seen pictures of when the back porch had let out to just a field and a tree. Camilo found himself wondering if that old thing had always been there, or if it had come with their Miracle.

It looked ancient. The trunk was at least as wide as four humans, twisting and turning up toward the sky at a slight angle before giving way to countless branches, those branches breaking off on their own as well in seemingly infinite chaos. The canopy splayed out above the courtyard in a protective, verdant umbrella so lush that even in the rain, the area underneath often stayed dry. Down below, the roots wove in and out of the soil like great serpents surfacing for air, defying the boundaries of the neat planter and forever upending the level neatness of the patio.

Camilo couldn’t imagine it not being there. He just couldn’t imagine a world without its constant, unshakeable presence. Something heavy and gripping suddenly settled into his chest, and he swallowed hard.

After a moment, his traitorous mouth opened without being told to and he whispered out question so quietly he wasn't sure if Bruno would even hear him.

“What do you think it’s like?”

“Huh?”

“...dying.” Camilo swallowed again, but didn’t look at his uncle. “What do you think it’s like.”

“Oh.” Bruno’s voice was soft. To Camilo’s surprise, he didn’t fidget or squirm like usual. Instead, he seemed to sort of wilt. Camilo glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. He'd leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. He stared up toward the big tree too, but he didn’t seem to be really looking at anything.

It was quiet for so long, that Camilo considered cracking some kind of joke to cover his tracks.

What are you thinking anyway, tonto? he thought. Guy just lost his mom. You gonna drop a rock like that on him? He really did need to get a grip. He needed to break the tension, ease the mood.

“Well, it must not have been that bad if Abuela allowed it to happen,” he joked, his voice light, wry, and guarding. “I think even La Muerte herself would have layed off if Abuela had given her that one stern look she had, ya know?"

Camilo chuckled, but Bruno didn't laugh. He didn't respond at all. He was still looking at the tree with a distant expression. Camilo narrowed his eyes at him—it didn't even seem like he'd heard a thing.

“...Tío?”

At that, Bruno dropped his eyes down to look at his hands, woven together loosely between his bent knees. He tipped his palms up slightly as if he was looking for something there. He took a slow breath, and then he began to speak.

“When I was a kid,” he said, “a-a real little kid, we had this big party at Casita. You know how it goes. House full of people, everything is busy and bright and loud. I don't remember what it was for anymore, b-but the whole time I just was torn between wanting to not miss a minute of it all, but, but, but also trying to be on my best behavior, like I knew Ma would want, a-and also also trying look out for my sisters, who were doing fine by the way, definitely didn't need me looking out for them but—well, anyway.”

Bruno cleared his throat, and Camilo watched him curiously. He nodded for him to continue, and Bruno nodded back.

“A-anyway, I didn't make it through the whole night. I got tired, like kids do, a-and fell asleep in some corner of the courtyard, heh. Passed right out. And Ma—y-your abuela, she found me and picked me up.”

Bruno looked up then, turning to look at Camilo with a sad, crooked smile and an odd brightness in his eyes.

“She carried me upstairs to my room. I could still hear the party—laughter and singing and music and joy—just in the next room over, but in my room with Mamá it was all still and quiet and peaceful. When she tucked me in, she kissed my cheek, and she whispered, ‘You did well, mijo. You did well. I've got you now.’”

Bruno swallowed. “It…it all just felt so…so…safe,” he shrugged. “Like…relief, I guess. Contentment. Idaknow. I think….maybe, um, maybe dying is… something like that.”

The tight feeling was back in Camilo's chest, and he felt a tear streak down his face before he was even aware it was there. He blinked. Bruno looked down at his empty hands again. The air around them had grown cool, the sun now set. The sound of crickets hummed, and the gentle murmurs from the reception wafted out from the warmly lit windows of Casita. Camilo sniffed loudly.

“That doesn't sound so bad,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. Bruno nodded with a broken chuckle, and brought a sleeve up to wipe roughly at his own face.

“Yeah. It doesn't.”

Then, without warning, Camilo’s shoulders quaked, his breath hitching and more tears suddenly appearing as all the pent-up pressure of the day rose to the surface and broke free. He choked out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry. Bruno put an arm around him.

The wind blew gently through the branches of the tree, ruffling the leaves in a hushed lullaby. The ropes of the swing creaked sweetly along with it. And there on the porch, settled between the warm murmurs of the reception behind them and the cool peace of the star-filled night, after his breathing had slowed and his tears had been wiped dry, Camilo thought that maybe he could finally feel within him a measure of stillness.

[shivunin]

The Dirty Dog

For @ockissweek Day 3 I borrowed @ndostairlyrium's delightful Hawke!! Ali, I wanted to write something to go with the piece you drew for them last year because they are so dang cute <3

(Maria Hawke & Kerry Hawke | 588 Words | No warnings)

There was a certain sort of golden feeling to the air that night at the Hanged Man. 

Maria, basking in the happy glow, tried to pin it down. It wasn’t the drink, which was the usual Lowtown swill. It wasn’t the music, the trio of musicians in the corner downstairs scraping out a jaunty, if somewhat unskilled iteration of Ferelden folk music. Dinner had been hours ago, so it probably wasn’t that. Their cards had long since been abandoned on the table in favor of talking, so it wasn’t the thrill of winning at cards either. 

After some consideration, the voices of her friends rising around her, she decided it was the sort of thing one only felt when everyone one loved was in a room together. 

Well—in one room together and happily drunk, that is. 

“And then I told him,” Isabela called over the raucous argument happening at the other end of the table, “that if his ship handled the water like that it shouldn’t be on the water at all.”

The three of them on their side of the table laughed, Kerry’s arm warm over Maria’s shoulders. 

“We’re empty over here,” Varric called over the noise, lifting an empty bottle of wine. Maria unwound herself from her friend to climb over the bench. Already, a fresh bottle waited at the bar for them. She flipped a coin to the bartender, pausing when a familiar hound raced past, mud trailing in its wake. 

“Oh, dear,” she said, and turned to leave several more coins on the bar. “That could be anybody’s dog, but, ah, I am terribly sorry for the mess.”

“Not again,” Norah said from behind the bar, her shoulders slumping. 

“Sorry,” Maria repeated, fetching a silver from her coin purse and pushing it across the bar. “For your trouble.” 

She didn’t wait to see if that was sufficient. Instead, she took the bottle back to her friends. As expected, the hound had both feet on her spot at the bench, tail wagging madly. Maria grinned down at him, tucking the wine under her arm and crouching to scratch behind the dog’s ears, possibly the only place on him that wasn’t filthy. 

“You are a menace,” Isabela said from her new spot on the other side of the table. “How does he always find a puddle of mud to roll in, Hawke?”

“Because he’s clever like that, isn’t he? Isn’t he?” Kerry answered between licks from the dog. He made kissy faces at the dog, who wagged his tail madly.

“Can you blame him? I would roll in a puddle of mud too, if I thought I could find one without trash in it,” Maria agreed. “Look at his sweet face. How can you be mad at that face?” 

“Easy. He got mud on my manuscript, Hawke!” Varric said, holding a sheaf of paper above his head. 

“Well, then. I guess we’ll just have to scrub him clean in your bathtub, won’t we? Wouldn’t want him getting it any filthier than it already is,” Maria said sweetly, straightening and hooking a finger under the dog’s collar. 

“Drinks are all on Varric!” she added, gesturing with the wine bottle she still held. Kerry, laughing, kissed her cheek loudly and took the collar from her, already coaxing the hound up the stairs to the dwarf’s quarters. 

“Hawke, no,” Varric groaned, but it was already too late. The two of them, laughing, were up the stairs and away, leaving only a trail of mud behind to mark their progress.

[strawberryblue-blog]

Love again. Part 3 —Pedri

summary: You and Pedri were best friends since you were little but then you grew up and things changed between you two.

warnings: none. jealousy, love triangle FT FERRAN TORRES (aka papi), angst, friends to strangers, friends to lovers, sickness.

word count: +3.5k

#SEXYNOTE: did someone say a lot of drama and angst? hehe. I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T UPDATE. I'm in final exam time but i'm done now.

tag: @http-isabela

After hours of dancing and making out with Ferran while your glances shot to that corner of the crowd from time to time. Pedri was now hugging his girlfriend by the shoulders while she kept trying to get his attention, but couldn't. He was too busy watching you for a while.

He was too busy watching you for a while.

But that didn't bother you, in fact, it encouraged you to keep kissing Ferran. You didn't know if it was Ferran's kisses, the alcohol you had drunk during the night or the jealousy of seeing him there that made you feel on a seesaw of sensations. Your mind had been freed and you were finally enjoying the night for yourself. But not quite.

Fuck Pedri and his fucking temper. Fuck whatever the fuck they had been. Fuck everything.

"Are we going somewhere?" you asked into his arms. Ferran held you with a smile.

You were sure that in another situation, you'd never say something like that. You weren't the type to sleep with the first guy you saw or give you attention but let's just say it was a one-off. And you knew it would make him furious.

"Sure cutie" he agreed taking your hand.

You were surprised that Ferran would accept so easily. I mean, he's a soccer player and you thought he would be more reserved and careful. But it was just the opposite.

Before leaving the crowd you took one last look at Pedri. He followed you with his gaze as you moved forward, blinking, raising his head, challenging you. His eyes had a different gleam in them that even made you doubt, were you doing this because you wanted to or because you knew he would be jealous? It would certainly make him angry, that you didn't follow his request from the other day. He hated it when you didn't listen to him. You took one last look at the young man, his body was on defense, he tried to walk towards you but his girlfriend stopped him. You gave him a smile, Pedri frowned. His eyebrows were raised, he looked at his friend and you felt his anger. But you didn't think anything of it, you quickly followed the steps of the brown man who was leading you to the parking lot.

You got into his car, taking advantage of the fact that no one was around, kissing fiercely. Ferran deposited you on his lap and you stroked his hair softly. A fleeting image of his face crossed your mind, making you gasp and open your eyes.

In front of you you saw Ferran, not Pedri and your belly churned. You tried to sigh to calm your pounding heart and not because of the young man's wet kisses on your neck but because of the images of your best friend.

Damn it.

Ferran's hands were all over your body and you were beginning to feel uncomfortable. Not because of him, but because of you. What the fuck were you doing? This wasn't you. You couldn't allow yourself to use Ferran to antagonize Pedri. To make him jealous or at least angry. Not when Ferran had been so good to you, had cared and treated you so well.

You were a mess. He had made a mess of you.

The air began to go out of your lungs. Nausea built up in your throat, making you brutally push Ferran away from your chest. The young man became concerned and called your name several times but you were dazed and couldn't hear. You opened the car door and stumbled out, trying to find air.

"Are you okay?" asked Ferran when he managed to get out. Stroking your back as you inhaled and expelled, feeling the tears stinging in your eyes.

"S-sorry" you apologized in embarrassment.

"Don't apologize, Y/n. I'm sorry if I was going too fast," he said helping you sit up on the curb. He took place next to you, stroking your back as he looked at you worriedly.

"No" you denied. "You didn't do anything wrong, it's me" you sobbed unable to hold on a second longer.

You were broken. Your heart ached. You regretted coming to the party, you weren't ready. You should never have kissed Ferran, or tried to act like everything was okay. Clearly it wasn't and you were going to drag him into your mess with you.

But you couldn't help it when you saw him there. You wanted to make him suffer. You wanted him to love you. You hated him for making you feel this way.

"It's okay" he encouraged you with his caresses. "It's Pedri, isn't it?" he asked and your tears came again. Your fingers trembled as you covered your face covering yourself, you were embarrassed.

"I-I'm sorry, Ferran, I don't know why I did it" you apologized taking his hand.

He didn't deserve this. You were trying to pretend to be someone else, you didn't even know what you were doing with your life. You weren't thinking clearly, you couldn't do it when Pedri was around.

"Do you want a ride home?" he questioned. You wanted to refuse, you had annoyed him enough but you knew no one would take you at this hour. Your friends were still partying and no one knew you were gone.

"Please" you asked with a smile. Ferran patted your shoulders one last time and stood up, stretching out his hand for you to take. You didn't hesitate to stretch yours out and he helped you up.

The ride home was quiet. The windows were open and the wind blew in through them, making your hair fly. The music on the radio was soft and soothing, your eyes felt heavy. The conversation was dynamic and fun. You had stopped crying and crying and now you were chatting animatedly with Ferran.

He was a charming person. Perhaps if you had met him at another time in your life, you surely wouldn't let him go.

"You'll be okay, right?" he asked as he walked you to your front door. You nodded.

"Thank you for everything you've done" you thanked sincerely. "You're a great person, Ferran" you patted his arm.

"You too, Y/n" he pleaded. "He's an idiot, he doesn't deserve your tears."

Too late.

You smiled at him as his arms wrapped around you, you welcomed his embrace by leaning against his chest. It felt warm and nice. You were definitely going to keep seeing Ferran, as friends, if he wanted you to. In one day he had been more supportive of you than Pedri had been in the last few years and that made you feel safe and comfortable with him.

"See you, take a rest" he greeted walking away. You raised your hand in farewell, giving him a big smile for the last time.

As he drove away, you sighed, turning around to enter your house. It was time to make a decision and ideas were starting to come into your head. First you would look for a flight back to the States, then you would find a way to excuse yourself so you could leave.

You no longer belonged here, not if you weren't by her side. Not if you didn't have his friendship. You had come back for that but it had been a mistake.

You couldn't look for love where there was none. Pedri had never loved you the way you loved him, so there was nothing to tie you to your past.

Your life had changed. You had changed. Pedri had said it correctly.

So now you had to leave and not come back.

[deadlysoupy]

Can't Say I Didn't Try

Chapters: 1/? Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Isabela & Rook, Lucanis Dellamorte & Neve Gallus & Rook Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Confessions, Trust Issues, Slavery, Lord of Fortune Rook, Drabble Collection, Trans Male Character

The life of Urchin "Rook". Includes slavery, adoption, the Lords of Fortune shenanigans, opening up to people and finding a new family.

posted on AO3 (requires an account) or under Read More for easy access!

notes: i wanted a drabble collection at first but i think its too much to bother. its 2 am also im going to regret it in the morning for suuuure

feel free to ask questions or clarifications! this might not be in proper order so there's bound to be some confusion. also Urchin is trans, so. keep that in mind

warning: English is still not my first language, so please point out any mistakes, i'd really appreciate it. constructive criticism is welcome!

Her knife clatters onto the ground with a cling. Metal on stone, it bounces two times before landing on its side.

Urchin flinches. Her arms frozen in place, still gripping a shadow of a knife. She dares not move. Her body starts burning, the staring of a sparring dummy singing her skin. The dummy laughs at her poor technique. Isabela said that she had to defend herself, now that she’s a Lord of Fortune, to stop anyone from hurting her again.

And she wants to. Urchin’s hands tremble, tears gathering at the edges of her vision. The world becomes very blurry, bile rising to her throat. Isabela will kick her out into the street now. She’ll be forced to run her whole life, until eventually she’ll be back in that ship, working until her hands turn raw and bloody.

A flinch, a hand on her shoulder. It’s radiating warmth, but Urchin doesn’t believe it. “Oh, no, kitten, it’s okay. It’s your first day, love, I don’t expect you to do it right away.”

Urchin sniffles. Her knees threaten to buckle under her.

She’s going to get hurt again. Lightning will bounce around the room, a cackle of its source. “At least you’ll know what magic feels like,” the cackle said.

“Urchin, look at me, sweetheart,” Isabela’s voice rings louder than her jailer. She tries to feel her body again and look at Isabela. Through her stained eyes, Isabela’s unusual colour palette comes first, and she smells the sea. “Now, lift your pretty little eyes at me, will you? They’re beautiful — I just have to see them.” No one has ever said her eyes were pretty. No one said she was anything at all. Simply a tool to them. Easy to break, and to be replaced if useless.

But Isabela doesn’t see her like that.

Urchin blinks once, twice, letting her tears out of their cages, her nose running like a river. Isabela is smiling. Her smile so tender it makes the girl's tears heavier and uncontainable. Isabela’s eyes are full of care and affection Urchin doesn’t know what to do with. She doesn’t deserve them.

Isabela giggles. “There you are. Aren’t you just the prettiest pearl of the sea?” she gives compliments like it’s nothing to her, like it’s as easy as breathing. She’s lying, then. “Now, come on, baby, what’s wrong? Just because you dropped it now doesn’t mean you’ll drop it next time.”

Urchin hiccups through her answer. She knows she has to give one, even if it brings her pain, because disobedience is unforgivable. She doesn’t want to be in pain anymore, it’s why she picked up the knife in the first place. “B-because I messed up, and it was so-so loud, and I didn’t mean to drop it, I’m sorry mistress, I’m sorry, I’m—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Urchin, you don’t have to apologize,” Isabela’s hand rises and Urchin prepares for a slap, but a palm cups her cheek, and Isabela’s gentle finger rubs tears off her face. “I’m sorry to put you through this so soon, I know it’s hard. But I know you can do this. We gotta make you stand up for yourself, and show those bastards how it’s done. You’re such a strong kid, you went through so much, and I can show you how to defend yourself against anyone who would want to do that to you again. You understand?”

She thinks she does. She doesn’t want to cower anymore. She needs to stop pain from happening. She doesn’t want to get punished again. Ever.

Urchin nods, and sniffs.

“Good,” Isabela smiles again, and takes her by the shoulders, almost in a hug. “I’ll get you a handkerchief, and we’ll try again. I’ll guide you the whole way. And then we’ll eat something nice. Doesn’t that sound good?”

Urchin nods again. Isabela rubs her shoulders before running into another room, and her body feels so cold without her touch. Urchin brings her arms around herself, like she would do when she went to sleep.

But it’s not as cold as she thought it would be, and the promise of food excites her. Maybe she won’t cry this time. She just has to try. For Isabela.

[jacarandaaaas]

Since we couldn't to see Isabela's perspective so much... describes her feelings of mirabel in your own words.

ooh this is an interesting ask! we do get some of isas perspective in the “tale of three sisters” book! (highly recommend btw) but other than that we really only see everything from mirabels perspective!

Something interesting pointed out in the book is that isabela doesn’t actually dislike mirabel. In fact I think you could say she feels sorry for her and pities her.

it seems isabela is very similar to mirabel in a lot of ways! stubbornness being an obvious one but also how they both tend to use snark as defense. For mirabel when she feels upset and isas around she quickly masks that feeling with a snarky remark to her sister. Isabela on the other hand doesn’t want to show she actually pities her sister and so masks it with her snark. Deep down isabela genuinely pities mirabel and wants to reach out but she doesn’t know how. She mentions in the book that mirabel always wants things done “her way” and in Luisa’s pov she mentions mira is always “in her own world”

and here’s another example of isa wanting to reach out but not knowing how

Isabela doesn’t hate mirabel but she is jealous of her freedom. We actually see isabela is quite perceptive and good at reading people! which is to be expected I suppose when you’re so used to acting a certain way

Isabela does think that mirabel is childish and a troublemaker, she also thinks mirabel is too stubborn for her own good (sounds familiar)

Like in the movie we see isabela fears mirabel will mess up her life plan, she always finds some way to ruin it in Isabelas eyes so her reaction to the disaster proposal dinner makes sense.

Isabela noticeably gets irritated around mirabel as mirabel is the most imperfect aka polar opposite to what isabela wants for her image. A lot of their issues is projection from both sides. We even see when isabela embraces her imperfection with mirabel old habits die hard as soon as alma shows up

Overall I think neither isabela nor mirabel hated eachother they just took out the frustrations of their own situations on eachother because one has the life the other wants so badly. (This is your sign to read tots!)

[lottiesnotebook]

need me some rook!cara & anders content pls.

"your OC’s doctor/healer talking about their injuries"

So the background everyone else will need for this AU is that in my heart, the Lighthouse's Caretaker is in fact Justice keeping an eye on his scapegrace daughter.

Anders & Cara 'Rook' Hawke-Laidir, parenting, fluff

@adainesjacket | @dadrunkwriting

"I cannot believe," Cara grumbles, from the nest of blankets she's been buried in since Treviso- since Minrathous- since she had to make a choice without knowing how much the world would end because of it, "that Varric snitched to my dad that I wasn't getting back to work."

"Varric?" Anders' brow furrows. "No, Justice fetched me as soon as I heard you were injured." He smooths a hand over her forehead like she's a little girl playing sick to get out of school, the cool brush of a dreamer's touch rather than the warm, callused reality of his hands.

He usually let her get away with playing sick, then. She doesn't think Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain will be quite as indulgent. One doesn't get to call in sick from the apocalypse, even with a cracked skull, three broken ribs and frostbite across half her body.

"Justice shouldn't snitch," she pouts, and he gives a forced laugh that does not disguise his worry:

"You sound just like your mother when you say that." His brow furrows as he unwraps her blanket pile to reveal her battered, bruised body that Lace and Bellara between them had manipulated into a night shirt. "Cracked skull, three broken ribs, frostbite… What have you been doing, to end up in this much trouble?"

"Fought a dragon," she says, attempting to sound casual, and failing. "A horrible, Blighted dragon. Probably way worse than the one in the Bone Pit you made up."

"That dragon was very real," Anders says, as he always does - this is one of their oldest games. She will pretend he's made up one of his adventures with her mother, and he'll raise source after source to refute it. "Ask your Aunt Isabela if you still don't believe me."

She blows a raspberry, then winces at the pressure it puts on her aching ribs. "Aunt Isabela would cover for you because it makes her look cooler."

Anders hisses in sympathy, presses down lightly on her ribs. "The same three you broke at Skyhold. I'm having words with that Harding girl-"

"Daddy," she whines, miserably reduced from twenty-one to twelve in a single blow. "You can't blame Lace for this one. She's the one who had to patch me up."

She'd been frantic, too, from what Cara's blurred memories showed her - so pale her freckles had stood out like stars as she tried to form a makeshift brace for her neck from the rubble of Treviso's market.

"And yet," he grumbles, "these things always happen around her. Varric too. Isabela should never have let you run off with both of them, it was asking for trouble." Cool magic flows from his fingers and she sighs in blessed relief as her ribs crack back into place.

"You said it was asking for trouble when I wanted to join the Lords in the first place," Cara pointed out.

"And you caused a diplomatic incident two years in!"

She shrugs, winces, and stops trying to shrug till he's checked her over more thoroughly. "And where do you think I learned that from?"

He sighs. "A point fairly made, which is why I can't ask why I find you in the middle of an apocalypse as soon as you're left unsupervised for five minutes."

"I'm not unsupervised!" she argues, though she realises the slur in her words is not helping. Her father's hands wrap around her skull, and there's a sickening crunch as the plates begin to reform. "I have Varric, and Lace…"

"Cara-hase…" He smooths back her hair from her face. "Look at you. If I could come here in person, I'd bring you home now. Maker knows Justice would if he could, and as for your mother…"

"I know," she sighs, letting her eyes flicker closed despite her desire to bask in the warmth of her father's closeness, even through the flimsy magic of a dream, "but I helped cause this mess, Daddy. I have to be the one to clean it up, don't I?"

Another hissing sigh through his teeth. "You didn't get that from me, did you?"

Her mind drifts back to a day long ago in Skyhold, when she'd learned the truth about their last day in Kirkwall - her mother's flight, her father's disappearance. She could have forgiven him for the Chantry, Varric had said, maybe even the lying, but he asked her to kill him, after the years she spent cleaning up after other people-

"No, Daddy," she murmurs, as sleep pulls her under, and wakefulness pulls him away from her, "You taught me that."

Healer's notes

Attending healer: Anders Laidir

Patient: Cara Hawke-Laidir

Diagnosis: Cracked skull, three broken ribs, multiple contusions, minor frostbite over 70% of the body, major frostbite in lower left leg.

Treatment: Magical healing applied to broken bones and worst contusions. I have left a tincture of embrium and Andraste's tears to be applied twice daily until the frostbite and the rest of the bruising fade. Please see the reverse of this note for the recipe.

Scout Harding, take care of my daughter. She still thinks she's immortal. I never want to find out she isn't.

[sky-fire-forever]

Happy friday! For any members of Kirkwall Polycule, “If we don’t make it out alive, I’ll see you at the Maker’s side.” “Bold of you to assume you’re going there.” (from the DA inspired dialog)

Thank you for this prompt! This one focuses a little more on Hawke/Isabela than the rest, but I tried to include moments with the whole polycule. For @dadrunkwriting

My Hawke in this one is Angel Hawke, who uses she/her pronouns.

“You’re kidding, right?” Isabela grabs Hawke’s arm and holds on tight. “You’re not seriously going to duel the Arishok for me.”

Hawke turns to her and gives her that winning smile that always seems to get her out of any situation she finds herself in. “Of course I am,” she says easily. “And I’m going to win.” 

Isabela can’t believe what she’s hearing. When she’d returned with the Tome, she hadn’t expected Hawke to get as caught up in her mess. That was the whole point of her coming back, for the Maker’s sake! To protect people! To protect Hawke and company specifically! Now Hawke is about to throw her life away for her, which just ruins everything. 

“Relax, Bela.” Hawke takes her hands in her own and presses kisses to her knuckles. “I’ll be fine. I always am.” 

Now would be the time for Isabela to say something witty and clever and charming. Something that would dissipate the tension in air and that would make Hawke laugh. 

Instead, she kisses her desperately and clings to her hand even after she pulls away. “If you don’t make it out alive, I’ll–” I’ll never forgive you is what she wants to say, but it feels too vulnerable to say it. “I’ll–”

“We’ll see you at the Maker’s side,” Sebastian cuts in.

Hawke snorts, a beautiful thing. “Bold of you to assume any of us are going there,” she says with a good-natured grin. “But don’t worry, I won’t die.” 

“That’s what they always say,” Varric says.

Hawke rolls her eyes. “If you keep talking like I’m going to die, I might just do it,” she says playfully before kissing Isabela’s knuckles again. “Don’t worry so much. When have I ever not been fine?” 

At odds with her words, she goes around to say goodbye to each of her companions in turn. She warns Anders from using any healing magic, even if he thinks he can be subtle enough that it won’t be noticed. 

“This is my battle to fight and I’ll win fair and square. I don’t need to risk cheating this time.” 

Isabela can’t help thinking that this isn’t Hawke’s battle at all and that she shouldn’t be the one fighting it. 

Anders grips Hawke’s hand tightly. “I love you,” he says desperately, like it might be his last chance to say it — for all he knows, it could be. 

“I love you too, you dork.” Hawke kisses him on the nose before pulling away to speak to Fenris. 

“He will be strong,” Fenris warns. “You must not lower your guard for even a moment.”

Hawke rolls her eyes. “I know, I know. Relax.” She wraps her arms around him. “Just hug me.” 

And he does, pulling her close to him and burying his face in her neck for a short time. Isabela gets the sense that he’s memorizing her. Despite their ill-times breakup not long ago, Fenris needs this. 

Merrill looks like she’s going to burst into tears at any moment. “Please don’t die,” she says when Hawke approaches her. 

“Don’t plan on it, sweetheart,” Hawke assures her. 

“Oh. Well, most people don’t plan on dying.” Merrill wrings her hands. “But it’s good that you’re fighting. It’s the right thing to do. For Bela.” 

Hawke smiles. “Thanks, Merrill.” She pulls her in and kisses her sweetly. “Wish me luck out there.” 

“Good luck.” 

Hawke turns to Varric, who puts his hands up. 

“I’m not one for tearful goodbyes, Giggles,” he says. “Just go in there and kick his ass.” 

Hawke laughs and salutes him. “Will do, my trusty dwarf.” 

Sebastian presses a kiss to the back of Hawke’s hand. “Good luck,” he says earnestly. 

Hawke smiles fondly at him before withdrawing from everyone. “Alright, enough emotions. I’ve got this.” She blows them all a kiss before stepping into the ring. 

Isabela watches on, terrified. She’s relieved when Fenris takes her hand. 

[hannahhook7744]

Poetversary;

Summary: Mariano is struggling to write a poem for his and Dolores' sixteenth wedding anniversary. And that's where the kids come in. Encantober 2024: Poetry. Trigger Warnings: self deprecating thoughts, guilt, anxiety, and mention of the flu.

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

“Oh, my sweet Dolores,

Your voice is such a lovely chorus,

And there is no one I adore-as

Much as I adore-us—”

Mariano was stuck.

More than stuck, actually. 

He was suffering from a complete and utter stagnant of writer’s block where he could hardly get the words together in his head, let alone write them down on paper.

Which, normally wouldn’t be a problem because normally Mariano would have all the time in the world to step back and take a break, and come back to it later after taking a siesta and getting a bocadillo (like Señora Julieta’s Guava and Cheese Mini-Bites or Home Sweet Home Rice Pudding). But normally, it wasn’t a week from his and Dolores’ wedding anniversary. 

And normally on their anniversaries, Mariano had more than enough gifts and a lovely date night planned to excuse not being able to have a poem done on the rare occasions where he couldn’t write one in time for his and his querida musa’s special nights. 

But this time Mariano didn’t.

This time Mariano had dropped the ball.

At least, in his own opinion.

He didn’t have a gift bought for her (yet anyway).

Didn’t have the time to make her something more than a poem (paper mache or crocheted flowers and stuffed animals were timely to make if you wanted them right).

There was no way he’d be able to book a reservation for any of the good restaurants that Dolores liked (and that wouldn’t hurt her ears) in time for the event and he was a terrible cook so making her favorites himself was out of the question and there was no way he was going to be putting any more work on his beloved’s aunt. 

And well, as bad of a cook as he was, he was an even worse dancer so taking her out to dance (especially after last time) was also no.

Which just left him with the option of writing her a wonderful poem that was better than all of the ones that came before it to buy him time to make it up to his encantadora esposa—which he was now apparently incapable of doing. Great.

Just great. 

Dios, Mariano Guzmán era el idiota más grande de todo Auradon.

What kind of husband didn’t remember the sixteenth anniversary of their wedding?

Bubo, Mariano’s best friend and cuñado, said that he was being too hard on himself and that “Dios, amigo, of course you forgot! You have six kids and all of them had la gripe, you and Dolores and the familia have been exhausted for weeks. Calm down and we’ll figure something out—”but the guard and poet wasn’t having it. He knew that his mejor amigo would be just as stressed and would feel just as guilty in his shoes if he was the one who had forgotten his and Isabela’s anniversary. 

So, his words were an empty comfort for once and now Mariano had to fix the mess before it became an even bigger mess and careened into a disaster without alerting Dolores. 

Now, if only he could find something that rhymed with Dolores. 

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

Of course, being a parent meant that Mariano didn’t get much alone time. And being an uncle as well, that meant his alone time was even more scarce. 

Which meant it didn’t really surprise him when not only his seven year old son, Oscar, interrupted him but one of Isabela and Bubo’s eight year olds, Miguel Jr (or Smiley or MJ as everyone called him) as well. Both peaking over his shoulder to see what he was working on, like usual. 

“Papi, ¿en qué estás trabajando?” Oscar rested his chin on Mariano’s shoulder, squinting at the parchment with a furrowed brow and a small frown. Noodles the snake wrapped around him as usual. 

“A poem for your Mami, cariño.”

Miguel Jr leaned even further over Mariano’s shoulder and probably would have knocked him over if the man wasn’t used to his sobrino’s lack of personal space awareness, already. “Can we help, Tío.”

Mariano paused in his writing. He seriously doubted that they’d be able to help with this particular problem of his, but if he’d  learned anything from being a padre, tío, and cuñado mayor, it was to never underestimate what children—Madrigal children, especially. So he decided to bite the bullet. “¡Claro! Know anything that rhymes with Dolores?”

There was a moment of silence. 

Then another. 

Then—

“Laurice?”

“Norris?”

“Dorris?”

“Horace?”

Mariano sighed. Not sure what he was expecting. “Very good, niños. Gracias.”

“You’re welcome!”

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

Madrigals, even the children, could not keep a secret for the life of them. 

Which is how Mariano found himself being bombarded by nearly every child in the house, all of which had suggestions. Some more helpful than others. 

“Boris” Cornel, Bruno's sixteen year old son, had suggested. 

To which his brother, Cesare—nineteen years old—, had immediately protested. “Boris? Boris? Absolutely not, that sounds too close to Bore-us.”

“Well I don't see you coming up with any ideas—”

“There's plenty, like forest and tourist—”

Which caused their brother Cyriacus, fourteen, to snort. “Oh sure, call Prima Dolores a tourist. That's very romantic and I'm sure it'll go over well.”

Mariano regretted not locking his door. 

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

“Does Acorn rhyme with Dolores, Papi?” Leta, his three year old, asked yawning as she rested her head on his knee. 

“No, temeraria. No, it doesn't.” Mariano ran his hand through her hair. 

He was never going to finish this poem.

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

“Why did you decide to make everything rhyme with Mama’s name anyway?” Princesa, his lovely eldest, asked. Judging him with a scrutinizing stare and all the tact of a ten year old. 

But…

Mariano had to agree that picking to end every line with something that rhymed with Dolores wasn't his brightest move. 

“I thought it'd be romantic.”

“But it's not very practical is it?”

Elmira, Princesa’s twin, squeaked quietly at that—in agreement with her sister but clearly not comfortable enough to voice these thoughts.

Mariano found himself sighing again. 

He had a feeling that it wouldn't be the last time he found himself doing so this week.

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

“Pour-us? Poorest? Poorest rhymes with Dolores!” Ligera, his five year old, pointed out excitedly. Happy to be helpful.

And well, it did…. Kinda?....depending on who you asked, anyway, but Mariano wasn't sure how to include poorest in his poem. He also wasn't sure Dolores would be pleased if he did. 

“Fairest rhymes with Mami!” Fuega chimed in, very confidently.

It didn't but Mariano didn't have the heart to correct her. 

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

Mariano did end up getting the poem done and done on time. 

Dolores loved it. 

She also loved the dinner ‘he'd’ apparently helped Bubo make and the flowers with musical notes that ‘he'd’ given Isabela the idea of making and the dress he'd bought her months ago that he'd forgotten about.

(Okay, so maybe Mariano had been a bit worried over nothing after all.)

[booksrbetterthanpeople]

Now that all four posts are out, let’s see all the kids from the classes just being a chaotic family at Pride!

Nino, Marc, Nathaniel, Ayesha, Reshma, and Eri are just casually adopting pride kids like it is no one's business

When Adrien, Jesse, and Austin B go missing, you'll know because Candace, Soo-Yeon, Nino, Marc, Austin Q, Mireille, and Aurore are screaming so loud, that they sound like sirens

A scene no one will forget is when Evie and Aurore reenacted scenes from Star Wars with their parasols as lightsabers

Adrien, Aggie, Ondine, and Margo are always dressing as Disney princesses. They dressed as the Madrigal girls (Isabela, Mirabel, Dolors, and Luisa) to protest the fact that Mirabel was not included in the Disney Princess lineup yet

Margo, Reshma, and Marc just casually throw scarves they knitted into the crowd

Kendra and DJ are Anais' impulse control. If it doesn't throw a rainbow smoke bomb at protesters, then they will

Ismael, Aggie, and Lotta are just skating by on their skateboards and throwing confetti

Mireille and Roxie got into a friendly boxing match, making everyone get nosebleeds... In a good way

Some say the first glitter bomb fell from the sky... Others say Victoria threw it... Anyway, Austin T and Marc are BEASTS at the Glitter Wars

Victoria and Mona "accidentally" roll over protesters' feet

Brecken and Zoé dressed as Bonnie and Clyde (respectively) and Evie and Cosette couldn't handle how hot they looked

Soo-Yeon, Adrien, and Victoria teach kids how to sink a basket

Anthony, Eri, Missy, Roxie, and Juleka have a contest to see how many protesters they can scare by the end of the day

Candace, Nino, and Luka come up with the best cheers to mess with protesters

Staci and Chloé have a contest to see how many TERFs they can make cry before the day is over

Eloise and Max do the anime glasses thing

Marc and Ayesha are just walking pride flags

Max, Alix, Dot, Austin B, and Ismael casually do the splits while in AroAce colors, because that's the AroAce agenda

Marc, Nathaniel, Ayesha, Adrien, Alya, Luka, Eri, Missy, Jesse, Anais, Margo, Mona, Eloise, Ondine, Jean, Reshma, Myléne, Austin Q, and Beck all cosplayed as characters from Rock and Riot

Dot and Mason are here with their rainbow binders to ensure everyone stays on schedule... And maybe get some cotton candy

Aggie, Kagami, Lacey, and Alya have swords and are not afraid to use them

The tall people are here to LOOM over protesters and kiss their significant others or just any cute person

Mona and Simon make sure to capture their friends all on video. They may or may not have footage of who started the Glitter War

The truth is, no matter what you do, Marinette's gonna find a way to bedazzle everything you own

Nathaniel and Alya are just casually nerding out about Marvel and DC and making jocks simp

Nino and Dot have brought baby leashes for just about everyone

Anthony and Austin T cannot and will not resist their boyfriends' puppy eyes

Austin A, Rose, and Kendra cosplayed as Elle Woods

Chloé ever so casually dips Sabrina and kisses her in front of protesters while Spinelli throws rainbow confetti around them

Petra, Nathaniel, and Spinelli were commissioned to paint a mural for Pride

Reshma, Marc, and Denise have matching tank tops that say 'Glamazons'

Ivan and Brecken casually nod to each other as their girlfriends carry them

Roxie and Mireille are here to kick TERF's ass and kiss girls. And they're all out of girls to kiss! (with consent)

Juleka and Anthony casually nod to each other before kissing their short sunshine significant others

Some say that if Reshma, Aggie, Aurore, Zoé, Margo, and Juleka are together in the same spot, the island of Lesbos will rise to the sky

Rochelle and Nathaniel are just a couple of sugar fiends. If they have too much, they're likely going to start a cult

Beck wards off homophobes with their hockey stick

Jean and Austin T have a fan club

Austin Q drop-kicked some guy who tried to drug Aggie's drink. He was soon knighted by the Queen of Lesbians... Reshma

Parker, Denise, Ivan, Kim, Roxie Luka, Marinette, Austin Q, Ondine, Brecken, and Gia getting into muscle-flexing contests is good for no one's health

Austin T. and Cosette ride on Marinette's shoulders as they pass out cupcakes... And occasionally throw pies at TERFs

Reshma somehow got a kiss from both Margo and Lacey, and she promptly fainted

Denise and Evie yell at protesters in Spanish, and their boyfriends have no idea what they're saying, but they just look so gorgeous when they're angry

Cosette and Austin A both dress their pets in drag

Cosette, Austin A, and Eri have suitcases filled with just makeup in case anyone needs a touch-up

Evie, Mireille, and Mindy made everyone simp by singing an operatic rendition of Poker Face

Kendra, Missy, and Nathaniel spray-painted several protesters' cars. No one's ever caught them

Simon and Mona made sure to get it all on video! The moment when Austin A and Spinelli finally kissed!

The Dykes on Bikes adore Austin B, Marc, and Roxie

Rochelle and Austin B somehow got blackmail on fifty-five protesters, and they just gave them money to leave them alone

Petra and Nathaniel handle all your face-painting needs

Mireille and Parker teach the pride kids a few fighting moves

Austin B, Eloise, and Max all DOMINATE at the Gay-ming stations

Cue Max, Simon, Anais, and Gerard hacking into electronic billboards so they all play animatics made by Ayesha and Nathaniel

After a while, Dot and Mason say it's time for a break, and they all head to a cafe where a comedy drag show happens to be in progress

When the day is over and things wind down to make way for the after-hours party their teachers (and some parents)will be attending, they get rides from Rafael Béaureal, Félice Quinlan, and their respective friends in the backs of their pickup trucks (Because they both for sure have friends with pickup trucks) back home (Spinelli gets a ride from Beck on the back of their motorcycle, though)

@msweebyness @imsparky2002

[yellowcry]

Twice to Once AU:

Let’s hear more about Julieta’s side of the family! What are they like/have been up to while Luisa and Agustín travel through Colombia for safety?

Ooh!

They are far more protective of Mirabel. While Isabela and she stull have a strained relationship. Maybe even worse as there no child in-between in their Golden Child—Scapegoat dynamic. But Isabela also takes some of protector role over Mirabel that canon Luisa has. Not as blatantly, and it probably had washed away over the years.

Why is she protective?

Let's just say, some people didn't like that Mirabel didn't get a gift and blamed her and her father for the bad genes.

Isabela was the one one to find his body. Obviously leaving her terrified for herself and her family (especially Mirabel as a giftless child). Her perfectionism is probably also an act of protecting Mirabel. If she's good enough, people won't be too mad because of Mirabel's lack of gift, right?

For couple of years the family had probably went into a bit of isolation, especially as Alma was too afraid that town might go after someone else. It got back on track later, as murderers were kicked out of Encanto. But she is definitely less strict/more catious of what people are thinking. Tho the family still was pushed into their messed up dynamic so it's up to debate. And, yes, it's a huge part of why she seemed so distrustful of Agustín and Luisa when they came in Encanto.

Julieta tries her best to be a good mother. It might be a bit harder for her as she's very busy and got no husband to tell her what's going on. She might be even closer to Mirabel this time around. Both because she's a single mom. And also because she didn't dare to leave her daughter's alone for a while after the ceremony.

[caradecema]

Too Little, Too Late

Part 16

SUMMARY: years of one sided love when it comes to Isabela, she finally begins to move on from George.

But once George realizes that he did have feelings for her, it's too late -

(Isabela X Cedric, Isabela X Minor George)

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Weeks would go by since the prank and the end of the year was drawing on everyone including the final quidditch game The Final Match: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin

The locker room buzzed with anticipation. The team was gathered around, their nerves palpable, but Isabela stood in front of them, arms crossed, her expression determined.

"Alright, listen up," she said, scanning each of their faces. "We've worked too damn hard to lose now. We win today, we take the House Cup again. Slytherin thinks they're going to intimidate us, but we're Gryffindors. We don't scare easily."

There were a few chuckles, but mostly nods of agreement.

"They're going to play dirty," she continued, eyes narrowing. "That's what they do. But we don't need cheap tricks to win. We have skill, we have speed, and most importantly, we have each other. So let's get out there and give them hell!"

A chorus of cheers erupted as the team stood, ready to storm the pitch.

Isabela let out a slow breath, turning toward the entrance. Through the open doors, she could see the massive crowd, hear the roaring excitement from the stands. The nerves finally settled in, but before she could dwell on them, she caught sight of a familiar figure standing just outside the locker rooms.

Cedric.

He was already dressed in his Hufflepuff robes, not playing today but clearly there to support her. He smiled when their eyes met, and she couldn't help but smile back like a complete idiot.

Before she knew it, he was pulling her in, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You're going to do great," he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake—"

Angelina and Katie immediately swooped in, dragging her away from Cedric with exaggerated groans.

"We do not need you distracted by Prince Charming right now," Katie said, shaking her head.

"Focus, Bella," Angelina added, smirking.

Cedric just laughed as Isabela rolled her eyes but followed her teammates out onto the pitch.

The match was brutal.

Slytherin was playing rough, shoving and elbowing at every turn. But Gryffindor held their own, keeping pace, scoring goal after goal. Isabela dodged a Bludger at the last second, narrowly missing a hit from a Slytherin Chaser, before passing the Quaffle to Angelina, who scored another ten points.

The crowd was on fire.

Then, suddenly—

"Potter's seen the Snitch!"

Isabela turned just in time to see Harry dive, Malfoy hot on his heels. The entire stadium held its breath as the two Seekers raced toward the golden speck.

And then—

Harry's fingers closed around it.

The whistle blew.

"GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

The roar from the Gryffindor stands was deafening. The entire team exploded into cheers, throwing their arms around each other. Isabela was caught in a mess of hugs, laughter, and shouting as they celebrated.

When they were finally given the Cup, they gathered at the center of the pitch, raising it high as the camera flashed, capturing the moment forever.

But as the celebrations continued, Isabela quietly slipped away.

The locker room was empty. Or at least, it was until Cedric stepped inside.

He leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her with that familiar smirk that never failed to make her heart race. His Quidditch robes were slightly undone, his hair still windswept from running onto the pitch after the match.

"I had a feeling I'd find you here," he said, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward her.

Isabela turned, a grin pulling at her lips. "You know me too well."

She barely had time to say anything else before he closed the space between them, his hands finding her waist as he pulled her in for a kiss.

It was warm, intoxicating—like coming home.

She melted into him, giggling softly when he pressed her back against the cool metal lockers. His fingers curled at her waist, thumbs brushing against her skin where her Quidditch jersey had ridden up slightly.

"They're looking for you, you know," Cedric murmured against her lips, pressing one last lingering kiss before pulling back slightly.

She let out a dramatic sigh, tilting her head. "Screw it," she whispered, looping her arms around his neck. "I'd rather be with you."

Cedric grinned, shaking his head in amusement before capturing her lips again. This time, it was slower, deeper, full of the kind of unspoken emotions neither of them had dared to put into words just yet.

A shiver ran down her spine as his fingers traced patterns along her waist, holding her close, as if letting go wasn't even an option.

"I think they'll start a search party soon," he teased between kisses, his forehead resting against hers.

"Let them," she muttered, pulling him back down to her.

Cedric chuckled but didn't argue, instead stealing another kiss, and another, and another.

For that moment—wrapped up in each other, hearts racing, lips tingling—nothing else mattered.

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with energy, the team still high from their win against Slytherin. The air was thick with excitement, the smell of butterbeer, and the laughter of celebrating students. Isabela and Cedric finally made their way back from the locker rooms, hand in hand, their hearts still racing from the match and everything that had happened afterward.

As they walked in, Angelina's eyes immediately landed on them. Her lips curled into a mischievous smile as she opened her mouth to say something, but then her gaze dropped to Bella's neck, where a very noticeable hickey stood out, the purple bruise still fresh from their earlier antics.

"Well," Angelina began, her voice laced with amusement, "that answers my question." She giggled, raising an eyebrow at Bella, whose face instantly flushed a deep shade of crimson.

Isabela groaned, trying to hide her embarrassment behind her hand, but the others weren't letting her off that easily.

Cedric, who had been trailing closely behind Bella, wrapped his arms around her wrist in that effortless, protective way he always did. He planted a quick kiss on her cheek, making her smile despite herself.

"I see you two are very charming," Fred remarked sarcastically, eyeing them from the couch where he was seated with Lee. Fred had a knowing grin, but it didn't stop him from pretending to be exasperated. "You've been hiding away long enough to get a love bite, huh?"

Bella swore under her breath.

Before she could respond, George walked by with a scowl, clearly not impressed by the affectionate display. His mood was heavier than usual, and his eyes couldn't help but narrow at the sight of Cedric and Bella. He didn't even glance at them for more than a second before turning his attention back to the rest of the party. It was clear—he wasn't happy.

Fred, noticing the tension, turned his attention to his brother. "Oi, you could at least pretend to be a bit happy for them, mate." He said it lightly, but there was an edge to his tone.

But George only rolled his eyes, clearly uninterested. As he made his way to blondie who was eagerly waiting for him. Pulling him into a kiss as soon as he was near.

Before Bella could even respond, Fred came stumbling toward them, clearly a bit tipsy, with Lee in tow. The two of them had clearly had their fill of drinks, and Fred was swaying a little more than usual.

"Fred," Isabela began, trying to keep her composure despite the embarrassment she was still feeling, "What's—?"

But Fred didn't let her finish. He stumbled over, laughing too loudly, his arm thrown around her shoulders as he leaned in with a drunken grin.

"Can't believe I missed all of this," he slurred, pointing at her neck with exaggerated theatrics. "Couldn't even wait for a bloody after party, huh? Decided to leave everyone out while you two were—" He made air quotes with his fingers, "celebrating in the locker room."

Lee rolled his eyes, laughing. "Fred, mate, you're making her blush even harder. Give it a rest."

Bella was nearly turning purple at this point, not sure where to look. Her eyes flicked between Cedric, who was looking at Fred with a mixture of amusement and concern, and the increasingly loud laughter from the rest of the group.

Cedric, sensing her discomfort, wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, planting a kiss on her forehead, making her chuckle softly in spite of herself.

"Fred, you're a menace," Cedric muttered, shaking his head with a grin.

"Well, someone had to say it," Fred replied, his speech already slurring a bit more. "I mean, you're not exactly subtle, you two."

Bella couldn't help it. She laughed. She was drunk now, a little lightheaded from the cheering and the drinks, and the way Cedric was kissing her, laughing, and teasing her—it made everything feel so carefree. She stole a glance at Cedric, who was still grinning down at her.

"Think they've noticed yet?" she whispered teasingly to him.

He shrugged, still smiling. "Maybe. But I don't think they'll mind."

The two of them stayed close, hand in hand, as the night wore on. Bella kept sneaking kisses from Cedric when no one was looking, and Cedric returned each one with just as much enthusiasm. They were both drunk now—perhaps a bit too much, but it didn't matter. Not now. Not with the way things felt.

As the music continued to play, and the group around them began to get rowdy again, Bella and Cedric stayed in their bubble. They laughed at Fred and Lee's antics, smiled at the jokes from the twins, and just let everything happen around them. They didn't care who saw them. In fact, they were so comfortable with each other that they couldn't seem to stop kissing.

For that night, they were happy. And for once, nothing else mattered.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

[ollypopwrites]

Violet and Babies Breath and Iris for Vanya and Narcissus and Dandelion and Lilac for Rhyea!

Prompts are from this post! I’m answering for Vanya (MW!Rook) and Rhyea (LoF!Rook)

MY GIRLS. This got long so i’m putting a read more.

Vanya

(behold smokey eyed, no-glasses, no glasses Vanya)

Violet: How comfortable is Rook being naked around others?

I believe that the Mourn Watch probably has communal bathing for the apprentices and maybe even lower ranked watchers. She’s also probably taken anatomy classes and seen a dozen naked corpses that needed tending. So I imagine she’s not uncomfortable with it in the context of those situations.

I do think the first time she had to strip down and bathe in a random lake while on the road with varric she was wildly uncomfortable just because it’s so open and vulnerable. She also isn’t one for super revealing clothes until she tries to trek through Rivain in full Mourn Watch garb nearly passes out from the heat and buys something breezier. It takes her a minute to not feel weird and exposed but she ends up not minding it.

Babies Breath: Would Rook want children? Do they ever have any?

Vanya does want children, there’s a very deep longing for family in her. It’s complicated sometimes because she has no example of how to parent aside from paid caretakers in the Watch. She’s real worried she’d be bad at it. But she cant deny it when she sees parents with their kids and goes “oh. yeah. That’s something.”

Her and Emmrich do have one kid and later take in a foundling. Also she’s marrying a single dad so like she gets a kid regardless lmao.

Iris: Is Rook religious? Are there any moments in their past that made them come to this decision?

Vanya is Andrastian, in that she keeps the holidays and believes in the Maker and things like that. She doesn’t take too strictly to the Chant, as she’s learned how it changes and can be influenced.

Nevarrans have a few different views of the religion than most other places, and that’s how she’s grown up.

Rhyea

(i know the devs didn’t let us make our rooks super busty because they didn’t want us stealing davrin’s thunder but in my heart all my rook’s are stacked)

Narcissus: Are there any physical attributes about themselves that they like?

All my Rooks are curvy and/or chubby, so just jot that down and Rhyea loves her curves. She’s also got some nicely defined arm muscles, as you can see in the picture above. In general, of all my Rooks Rhyea is the most confident in her appearance. She’s hot and she knows it and i love that for her.

Dandelion: What type of parent is rook?

Certified Cool Mom ™️

Rhyea believes in letting kids be kids — that means messes, scraped knees, and letting them fuck around and find out (within reason). She’s very loving, and laid back. If Rhyea had kids (not sure if she does in her canon yet) she would take to it with the least angst honestly. Like typical nerves, and holy shit I hope i don’t fuck them up, but when they show up she just kind of is good at it?

Lilac: What is one of Rook’s happiest memories?

When she first joined the Lords and did her first successful treasure hunt. It was the start of a new life for her, and she just remembers everyone getting drunk around a bonfire on the beach. She got her first piece of jewelry that day, a ruby necklace given to her by Isabela.

Being welcomed with open arms like that was a really formative experience for her, and she will never forget how it felt.

[ididitforthedogs]

Thoughts on veilguard below- this got long

So i think my ranking of dragon age games remains the order in which they were released. Origins is just... It's special to me. It has its faults, but it was the first rpg I've played, and there is an atmosphere about it that I remember from my first playthrough, and I've never had it again since.

I romanced Bellara (because she reminded me of Merrill) and like... The romance content was severely lacking imo. I had basically no scenes with her. Idk if this was a glitch or a feature at this point. I feel like the writers had favorites and she definitely was not one of them.

I miss the approval bars for companions!!!! Origins and DA2 let me see exactly where I stood with them and gave me concrete numbers about how much they approved or disapproved!! In DA2, if you don't give Merrill the arulinholm and you're her friend, you get the opposite in rivalry- like, if you're her friend +50 and you don't give it to her, you get rivalry +100 so that you end up +50 but the other way around. You can't get that kind of thing unless you give us the numbers!!!! I was hoping that they would bring it back after inquisition, but no.

I still don't like the combat. I don't like having to aim and I really don't like only having 3 abilities. The point of levelling up is to get more abilities!! What is the point if you can only use 3 of them? That being said, I did really like the non-linear method of levelling up.

It hurt me when Morrigan showed up looking like Flemeth. (But I still maintain that origins!flemeth is the better design)

There was exactly one (1) Merrill mention, and it was an offhand comment by Isabela at the proving grounds. One comment about Merrill, who cleansed an eluvian from scratch, who ABSOLUTELY would have loved the veil jumpers (finding out more about history? uh, yeah.). I know they wouldn't put Merrill and Bellara in a room together because Bellara is basically Merrill with longer hair, but the conversations that they would have... About Tamlen, about Cyrian, about remembering, rambling about eluvians and ancient magic...... Merrill could have been her mentor. By all rights, she should have been. Even if we didn't see her, Bellara could have at least mentioned her.

~~

I think my biggest problems with veilguard boil down to this: I don't buy into the premise and I absolutely hate that only 3 decisions from previous games matter.

I don't like how they made the elven gods real and evil but the maker? Oh well we'll never tell about that, pseudo-christianity gets doubt. I don't understand why it was just elgarnan and ghilanain and not the others. I still hate Solas and hate how I had to talk to him after missions and check in with how he's doing and do we want to redeem him because actually, I really don't care. I didn't want to see my Inquisitor again because I knew they would butcher it, and they did. I don't want a DA protagonist to carry through to multiple games. I finished that chapter, now let me start a new one. Small Easter eggs or codex entries are all the references I really want, because as soon as you take the PC out of player control, you're inevitably going to mess it up for someone.

The whole Varric death thing is... Interesting. But it's hard to feel that attached to the relationship between rook and Varric because we never actually see it build! It's just one scene and then just being told about how you're close and whatever. It's relying on the user to have a connection, not the PC, and that's not a very strong narrative choice. I do like his redesign, though I'm glad he's done with- I never connected with him, so I'm kind of happy that I don't have to worry about seeing him in another game again.

I don't like the davrin/harding choice. The fact that its inescapable that one of them will die, and while it's something that you pick, you don't even know that you're picking it at the time. It's a weird place for a death too- close to the end but not completely there, but also not a midpoint plot twist. Also doesn't make sense why it's one or the other.

~~

To be clear, though, there was a decent amount that they did well. The maps are much smaller and more contained than inquisition, which I prefer. I like being able to pick different skins for armor so that you can equip the best stuff but still look good. Solas is holding up the veil, which means I never have to see him again. Plus because I fought him at the end, he pulled the same "I am a god" bullshit as Elgarnan while getting sucked into space, which was satisfying (even though I had to spend most of the game trusting the literal trickster god). I really liked breaking boxes. The auto shimmer around chests was good. The text was actually readable. The companions felt real.

~~

Anyway, if you read this far, this is a checkpoint. Set down your phone or computer, take a drink, and do something other than scroll on Tumblr.

[ocmakerofcanada]

【Alejandra the Chimera Axolotl Official Profile】

Name: Alejandra

Age: 14 - 16

Pronouns: She/Her

Height: 4’3

Birthday: June 21

Zodiac: Cancer

Birthstone & Flower: Alexandrite & Honeysuckle

Favorite Pizza: Seafood Pizza

Weapon: Macuahuitl

Nationality: Latina 🇲🇽

Personally Inspiration: Luz Noceda, Isabela Madrigal, Nimona, Ryuko Matoi, and Gwen Stacy

Headcannon Voice: Sarah-Nicole Robles ( Luz Noceda - The Owl House ) mixed with Diane Guerrero ( Isabela Madrigal - Encanto. )

《Abilities》

Gillactor

Using her feathery gills, she could easily mimic sounds. Just like a mayan death whistle

Flexibility

Since she has a small, skinny, slippery body with long limbs, she could easily be as flexible as a pro-gymnast

Rejuvenation

If she gets hurt or loses a limb or tail, she could easily heal herself

Truejuvenation

This is a power she gains from her weapon, but works as a once in a life time sort of thing. Similar to being Rejuvenated, but more powerful as her form changes to be slightly more monsterous, but doesn't change her height

「Charcter Arc」

Throughout the series, Aleja is seen as a bit of a troublesome gremlin. Always screwing around with the turtles and messes up with their mission so that she could take over or simply just do it out of spite to annoy them. However, the poor thing is just lonely. She was scared that people would not accept her at all, so she would take the job as a vigilante and take part on night patrols so that maybe she could be seen in a good and better light.

However, in the movie, when she got in the way in stopping our heros and their new friend from getting the key back from The Foot Clan, she was unaware of the danger that would be unleashed upon them. The Krang were released upon eath, and the turtles along with an injured Splinter, April, and Casey jr were forced to flee after they lost their powers. But this is where things change compared to the movie. Instead of getting the key, Leo would actually listen to Raph, giving Aleja ( who was somehow lucky to still have her powers ) an opportunity to retrieve it herself just to prove herself that she was the true hero here. That's when the Alligator Snapping Turtle would save her before she could be killed by the Krang, and sent her back to the others in his pod. ( Hence why she had his badge/button in a previous design, which she would still keep on her )

And so, Aleja would make a truce to get Raph back, and everything is pretty much the same thing as the movie. And then, there's that one scene in the movie that's going to be a real gut punch in this retold version...

When Leo sacrifices himself, Aleja would have a flashback to when Raph almost died saving her. She couldn't let the Red-Eared Slider die in the Prison Dimension. So she would quickly find a way inside before Casey jr would close up the portal. She would try to fight off The Krang for as long as she could, as well as getting her butt kicked in the process, but she would reveal something big. Something that was heard by the team back on Earth. The thing is, not only did Aleja wanted to be a hero too, but she was actually inspired by the turtles to be one after she had seen one of their battles. But she had a grudge because they had the only two things she never had; Friends & Family. She then told Leo that she wouldn't be where she was without his family, and thanked him.

Eventually, Mikey was finally able to use his mystic hands with the help of his brothers to make a portal to save Aleja & Leo. And as everyone healed overtime while the city of New York was being rebuilt in the aftermath of the invasion, Aleja had finally reached her redemption and befriended the turtles. Seeing them as the family she never had before.

～。• Spinoff。•～

Aleja would have her own spinoff that takes place after the events of Season 2 and The Movie, and it would mostly be about her and her own little adventures. Meeting old and new characters, and following her path to becoming a hero. She would even have flashbacks to before she was ever Mutated too…