#green headed cone flower

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Twelve

Steve wanted everything to be ready and set up for when Eddie got back; Hopper was going to drop him over later in the afternoon.

It didn’t work out like that at all; Steve’s parents left earlier than they said they would. He got Eddie’s things out of the closet, and then was heading to the garage to get the tent, really, truly intending to use this time to get everything right for when Eddie comes back.

Steve lasted twenty minutes in the empty house before he couldn’t take any more. He just missed Eddie too much. He was too excited to see him, to bring him home, way too excited to wait hours.

Especially since every moment now felt so precious, so finite.

So he thought fuck it, slipped on his sneakers and picked up his car keys and headed to the store. He definitely needed fresh groceries ready for Eddie to come home.

It’s a fairly good thing his mother never actually cooks; she might have had questions about all the peas in the freezer. As it is Steve has to rotate between stores, he's started saying, ‘I’m doing this green juice diet thing,’ every time he gets a strange look when he pays. Even that would only fly so far before people started looking at him like he was really weird; it’s not like Hawkins is a big place, there’s not exactly a lot of options.

From the store, Steve heads to the cabin, only to find Eddie sitting on the stoop, his bag ready next to him. He grins so big when Steve pulls up.

Hopper comes out with a steaming mug cupped in his hands and an unlit cigarette sagging between his lips, “you’re as bad as each other, I told him not until four, he’s been packed since half nine. Couldn’t stop him.”

Steve kneels on the step below Eddie so they can give each other a proper hug; he feels Eddie’s chest expand in a massive sigh, and then Eddie relaxes fully against him. Steve can relate; he feels the same.

“Sorry Hop,” Steve says absently.

Hopper makes a noncomittal noise, and Steve hears the rasp of his lighter, “all his things are clean, did a load of laundry last night.”

Steve stands, but finds Eddie’s holding his hand and Steve kind of doesn’t want to ever let go of him anyway, so it kind of works out.

“Thanks so much Hopper, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this.”

Hopper leans on the porch rail, “just laundry, kid.”

“You know what I mean, you’ve, you know, looked after him and I-”

“Hopper,” Eddie says, causing them both to look, “thank you,” and Eddie presents Hopper with a pine cone. It has strands of long grass haphazardly tied to it, little flowers and a couple of smalls leaves. Steve doesn’t look at Hopper’s face; he knows he will laugh if he does.

“Errr...you’re welcome.”

Steve thinks Hopper accepts his gift with grace.

The plan is to spend the whole afternoon on the couch watching movies. Eddie puts his things away; moves things around, spends an hour generally reacquainting himself with the place, Steve asks him if he wants the tent put back today, but Eddie shakes his head, clearly not worried about it. He also doesn’t want to get his shiny things back either; Steve offers to go into his parents room with him but again, Eddie seems disinterested.

He just seems to need to check where everything is before he finally settles, snuggling right up to Steve and settling his head on Steve’s chest, half cradled between Steve’s legs.

Steve knows Eddie’s missed him, Steve has missed him, too.

They don’t even pretend that night. There’s no talk of nightmares, or dark TV, or bad dreams. There’s no excuses about how it’s cold, or talk about Eddie sleeping on the couch; they brush their teeth together, and then Eddie gets into Steve’s bed before Steve does.

Steve sleeps with Eddie’s tail wrapped between and around his legs, and tries not to dwell on how much it’s going to hurt when it’s gone.

Steve walks through the door of Family Video, arms in the air, triumphant, “ayyyyyyyy!”

Robin mimics him from behind the counter, throwing her arms up too, “ayyyyyy...what are we doing?!”

“Celebrating, obviously,” Steve gets his ass up on the counter and shimmies around, dropping down on the other side, “we’re back together. The dream team.”

“The dynamic duo?”

“The perfect pair.”

“The...top twins?”

“That’s weak Steve.”

“I know, I couldn’t come up with anything good that begins with ‘T’ and I wanted to keep this going. Thanks by the way, I think we have two shifts together this week. I do not want to know what you had to do to get that-”

“Gross,” Robin slaps him in the chest with a half eaten red vine.

The bell over the door tinkles, a whole brood of excited kids coming in, looking for Christmas movies, Steve directs the mom to the right section. It’s not long before more come in, “what the hell is going on?” Steve gripes about all the little kids absolutely ruining the displays.

“Last day of school, everyone's out for Christmas,” Robin tells him as she rings someone up.

“No way,” Steve looks at the calendar pinned to the cupboard door behind the counter, “Oh. It is.”

“Yep Dingus, not long now, got all your gifts?”

“Shit Rob, I don’t have any gifts-”

“Terrific!”

“No it’s-”

“No no, terrific! With a ‘T’!”

“Oh...yeah, I suppose that was the obvious option.”

Steve gets home late, these closing shifts really starting to get to him, thinking about what the hell he should get Eddie for Christmas. He has no idea how long the whole...transformation thing…might take. Or how long until it happens. This might be the only Christmas Eddie ever has and…Steve’s going to do his best to make it amazing.

Tomorrow he’s going to drive out and pick up a real tree, get all the decorations down from the attic; Eddie likes shiny things, he should like it. Steve feels better with a plan of action, he always has.

“Eddie,” Steve calls as he closes the front door, stripping off his jacket and gloves. His ears are freezing, he should wear a hat really, but that would be a bit of a crime with his hair.

Steve can smell something; coffee he’s pretty sure, and something cooking, “Stee.”

“Hey Buddy, what are you doing,” Steve finds Eddie on a kitchen chair in front of the stove.

“Stee nine and a half.”

“Yeah, yeah I did say that buddy.”

Eddie’s carefully stirring soup on the stove top; there’s a bowl ready, next to a plate of crackers and randomly shaped cut up lumps of cheese. Well, more like hacked up lumps of cheese, but still.

Steve watches, heart sort of in his mouth, as Eddie carefully, tongue poking out in concentration, lifts the pot and pours the steaming soup into the bowl. He does it slowly, but perfectly fine, “Stee hot, ow.”

“I’ll let it cool down I...just thank you buddy, thank you so much.”

There’s a dirty knife and the empty soup can in the sink, but otherwise Eddie’s tidied up after himself. This must have taken so much effort; Eddie would have to move the chair every time he needed to reach something. Steve can’t help it, he dips, giving Eddie a soft kiss on the cheek.

Part Fourteen

[homestylehughes]

kiss me

pairing(s): luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke and his pretty girl spend a summer day in central park

warnings: none. pure fluff and cuteness.

wc: 647

an: hiiii loves!! i kept having this thought about luke last night and i decided to write it LOL. i'm a sucker for cute and soft luke. it's a short little baby fic but i love it. i hope you all enjoy it!! like and reblog if you do!! as always much love <3.

happy reading <3

The warm summer breeze moves past Luke and I as we walk through Central Park, enjoying a soft summer day. 

“And one vanilla cone for a pretty lady” Luke dramatically says from beside me, handing me the sweet treat on the cone. 

“Thank you kind sir” I giggle back, before wrapping my tongue around the sweet treat, internally moaning at the taste. 

“Good?” Luke asks, chuckling at me, as he watches me eat the desert. 

“Mhm!” I mumble back, mouth full of ice cream. Luke replies with a smile, grabbing his warm hand in mine as we begin to walk further into the park. 

The bright sun litters over the vibrant green trees that litter all around the park, the slight breeze causing them to sway as if they're dancing. Flowers of all types add color and more life to the park, the scene around us is beautiful, like something out of a painting.

I'm not really sure how we ended up here today. Luke wanted to take an impromptu trip to New York, and now we’re here, and I'm not complaining.

Luke looks so amazing in the sun. The way it highlights his chestnut brown curls. Seeing how his mussels contract under the white shirt he chose to wear together is enough to make my mouth water. He's a sight I'll never get used to seeing. 

“Are you okay over there pretty girl?” 

Luke asks beside me, breaking me out of my daydream.

 “Yeah I'm fine” I say beaming up to him, flashing him a sweet smile. “Just thinking about and how lucky I am” I follow. 

“Oh, who knew my pretty girl was such a sap for me” 

“Hey now, don't be mean. I was trying to be cute and admit my love for you and you just bullied me." I say turning on my heel to throw away my cone wrapper. 

“I was jokinggggg, come here '' Luke says, grabbing my wrist, pulling me back towards him. “You better be,” I say with a small pout on my lips. 

Luke chuckles at my face, “you're so cute” he says before leading me down the trail again. We walk in silence for a few moments, taking in the view around us. 

“It's so pretty out here today” i say looking at luke, “thank you for taking me here today”, “you're welcome pretty girl” he says looking at me 

“I feel like I haven't, we haven't seen each other a lot recently, and I wanted to take my pretty girl to a pretty place.” 

Luke's words have my face heating up instantly, he never fails to make me feel loved and special. “Now who's the sap?” I say playfully, nudging my elbow into his side as we continue walking. 

“Wowwwww. Okay i see how it is' ' he says with a dramatic sigh.

 “You know I'm kidding” I say, pulling his arms, so he's now standing in front of me. 

“I love you” I softly say looking into his eyes.

“I love you more” he counter,

 “impossible.'' I say looking back at him with narrowed eyes. 

“Shut up” Luke laughs at me. 

“No, you shut up” I sat tilting my head to the side, waiting for his next move. 

“Oh really?” he says, taking a step and half closer to me. 

“Mhm, what are you going to do about it?” he says, tilting his head down closer to my face. 

“Kiss me” I say, not even a beat later, I feel his warm hands cupping my cheeks pulling me into a sweet kiss. My arms circled around his neck, pulling him closer to my body. 

Luke pulls away from my lips softly, “I'll never stop talking if you always shut me up with a kiss.” he says in a teasing tone. 

“Oh shut up” I mumble back, 

“oh I will” is all Luke says before pullin me back for another kiss. 

[saphstories]

I'm Already There

For @e-vay. 😘

Something was different today. Perhaps it was the shade of blue in the sky, not as bright as it should be, dotted with the occasional white cloud? Or the fragrance of the flowers, lilies and roses not as sweet on the breeze as they bloomed? Or even the sun itself, not as warm even with the first day of spring in full arrival?

Amy Rose sighed and stroked her fingertip down the lonely stalk of a blown dandelion, watching the seeds dance in the wind with downcast green eyes, off to places unknown for planting and blooming.

...Or, maybe...just maybe...Was it her own heart's ache that made today so somber? ...Could it be...the absence of her heart that made this beautiful day awash in grey?

Amy shook her head and dropped the stem on the grass beneath her checkered picnic blanket. She was being silly, that silly lovesick Amy Rose... but try as she might to enjoy the warmth of the sun, the blue of the sky, the fragrance of flowers...it still wasn't right.

She harrumphed. This was ridiculous. He hadn't even been gone long, only a couple of days, and here she was, pining and moping, wasting a perfectly lovely day. "Pull yourself together, Rose." The pink hedgehog grumbled, flopping back onto the blanket to glower up at the sky. "Sonic's been gone for far longer than this before... you used to go months with only sparse texts!"

As if conjured by her grouching, the communicator at her side beeped and flashed with the specific tone for a message from the Blue Blur himself. Amy pretended she waited a moment, calmly picking up the device to check with poise and grace and not at all like the crazed kid she used to be...but she couldn't even fool herself. She lunged for the communicator, eagerly bringing up her messages with large green eyes full of stars.

It was a photo. Stamped for only a few minutes prior, with a towering ice cream sundae topped with dripping fudge, tiny chocolate chips, a sugar cone spear, and a bright red cherry on top. Amy's mouth watered at the sight, and her lips curved up into a smile at the winking grin the handsome blue hedgehog at the corner of the frame posed for the camera. 'Best thing about Apotos: Chocolate Sundae Supreme! Though the ice cream will never be as sweet as you. 😉 Wish you were here, Ames! Maybe you could come with next time? I might even share 😜 Xoxoxoxo'

Amy giggled, a lovely flush worthy of her name spreading across her cheeks. She caressed the screen lovingly, longingly, her heart both heavy and warm. It was far from the first text he'd sent since his departure, and she treasured each one, each call he graced her with at morning and night she relished in his voice.

...Who was she kidding? Amy missed him, felt his absence as keenly as she did the blanket beneath her. She missed his laughter, his smile, his confidence, his touch. It had only been two days... but two minutes would have been more than enough without her Sonic. Now, she supposed, that he was truly hers, just as that she was his.

Amy jumped, startled, when the communicator let out a sweet melody. "You give me butterflies~," It sang, and Amy hurried to answer it.

"Hey there, troublemaker!" The familiar voice smoothed the disquiet in Amy's heart, and she relaxed on the blanket for the first time all morning. "Ya didn't answer my text. Busy?"

"Maybe a bit, but I suppose I can squeeze you in." Amy teased.

"Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while." Sonic's voice dropped to a low purr, full of promise, and Amy giggled, blushing pink even if he couldn't see. "Whatcha up to?"

"Nothing too exciting, just sitting under the apple tree." Amy said dismissively. "How was the ice cream?"

"Awesome, like always. How'd you like to know for yourself sometime? Next time we track ol Eggy to Apotos, we could make a date out of it?"

Sonic the Hedgehog offering to take her on a date would never cease to make a thrill skitter through her fur. "It's a date." Amy agreed.

It was quiet on the line for a long moment, and Amy wondered if Sonic had gotten distracted with something else... "You okay, Ames?" His voice was soft, full of concern. "You sound..." He trailed off.

He knew her far too well. "Yeah. I'm fine," She sighed and pinched her nose. "I just... really miss you." Amy confessed, her voice dropping into a whisper, as if her volume could hide her embarrassment. "It's ridiculous, I know, I'm sorry-,"

"Amy Rose." Sonic cut her off, firm and gentle, so confident but so sweet. "Nothing you ever feel is ridiculous, and never be sorry for telling me how you feel. I know I'm not the best at emotions, but you never have to hide yours from me. I don't want you to, not ever. You're Amy Rose, the most passionate, strong, and incredible person I know, and so much of that is because of that big, beautiful heart of yours." He huffed a quiet laugh. "As for missing me, well..." Amy could hear the smile in his voice, the affection that drifted through the speakers straight to her heart. "You don't need to. I'm already there. Can't you feel me?"

"Sonic, I-," Amy breathed.

"I'm right there beside you, Ames. You just need to look around. Can't you see me?" Sonic hummed lovingly. "Can't you feel me there? I'm the sunshine in your quills, that breeze that kisses your cheek." Amy closed her eyes, a smile stretching on her muzzle as the breeze tickled her cheek fur, her quills warmed and shimmering in the sunbeams. "I'm as close as your shadow, holding you in my arms on the blanket, right there with you. I'm there, Ames, right there in your heart. And as long as you keep me there, no matter how far I go, wherever I go, just remember: so long as you love me, I'm already there."

[scarletlizzard]

Caller ID

Pairings: wanda x reader

Tags: little bit a fluff as always, angst, sad ×2

A/n: I would love to hear what you guys think! Messages are always open and taking requests. Thanks so so much for reading. More soon! ♡

Masterlist

Ring. Ring. Ring.

It couldn't be possible, right?

Ring. Ring. Ring.

There was no way you were calling Wanda, not after everything that happened.

She sat on the couch, staring at the caller ID that read your name on the phone that she held in her hand. A picture of you flashes on the screen. With a shaky hand, she hits the green button, bringing the phone to her ear.

"H-Hello?"

"Little witch..." Wanda lets out a small breath as she hears you use your nickname for her.

"Y/N? She asks, trying to calm herself.

"Hi, little witch. Did you miss me?" Your voice is soft, a happy tone.

Wanda closes her eyes at your words, biting her lip. "Of course, sweetheart. Every single day.."

"I miss you too.. I just wanted to hear your voice again. It's... it's been too long." You sigh as you speak, Wanda nods even though you can't see her. "Tell me a story, Wanda."

"A story?"

"Yeah, a story. How about our first date?" Wanda can practically hear your smile, and she can't help but laugh.

"Our first date.." Wanda smiles as she thinks back to one of her favorite memories.

***

It had been 4 months since Wanda moved into the Avengers Compound. 4 months of the two of you watching sitcoms late at night, cooking Sokovian dishes in the kitchen, being a shoulder to cry on when Wanda needed it. 4 months of being afraid to tell her how you really felt.

You took a deep breath as you stood outside her door, a bouquet of yellow daisies in your hand. Before you can knock at the door, you see red whisps around the handle, the door opening in front of you. Wanda sits on her bed, hand raised and fingers burning red. She smiles widely at the sight of you standing there with your fist raised, flowers in your hand.

"Hi.." Is all you manage out, a stupid grin on your face. Wanda chuckles and stands up, walking closer to you. "You knew I was out there, huh?" You ask her and shut the door behind you.

"Your thoughts are.. very loud, detka," she says softly, standing in front of you. You feel your cheeks burn at the realization she already knew why you were here, a blush creeping up your neck. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Wanda smiles.

You take a deep breath, holding the flowers out to her. "Wanda I-" You pause, trying to find the right words. You had practiced this in your head for an hour, but now that you were standing in front of her and she was looking at you with those beautiful green eyes. All your thoughts flew out the window. "Will you.. uh.."

Wanda reaches out to take the flowers from you, her soft fingertips brushing against yours. "Will I..?" She says, looking at you knowingly as she smells the flowers. You chuckle and scratch the back of your head, not believing the effect the witch had on you.

"Will you please go on a date... with me. Tonight?"

Wanda looks at your red cheeks, the small nervous twitch of your fingers, the way her hoodie hugged your body. She knew what you were coming to ask her, and she couldn't be happier.

"Of course I will, Y/N.." Her hand reaches up to cup your cheek, reassuringly moving her thumb across your skin. You lean into her touch with a wide smile, taking over your face.

"You already knew, huh?"

"Kind of.." Wanda laughs, and you can't help but laugh along with her.

Later that night, the two of you had left the compound and got dinner at Wandas' favorite restaurant, dessert at your favorite ice cream shop.

"I swear, Wands. Once you try it, you'll never be able to enjoy any other ice cream again," you say with a serious expression, holding out an ice cream cone to her. Wanda could only chuckle at your demeanor, taking the cone from you. She licked along the vanilla cream, hot fudge warming her lips. You watch her with careful eyes.

"Well?" You ask.

"Holy shit.. this is amazing!"

You laugh at her words, nodding your head and enjoying your own cone. She took your hand in hers, letting your fingers tangle between the two of you. You led her a few streets down, pausing in front of a tall building. Wanda looks up, down to you.

"Feel like flying a little?" You smirk at her, catching the sparkle in her eyes. You look up, using your powers to fly up into the air and onto the roof of the building. Wanda flies behind you, red swirls circling around her. When she lands on the roof, she sees a couple of old chairs set up, strands of light hanging around them. Walking forward, she sees a few dead plants and a couple of comic books.

"Yeah, I uh, this is where I usually come to just... stop. You know? I haven't been in a while since, well, since you came into my life." Wanda turns to look at you as you speak, and you're stood staring at her with a smile on your face. You take a step towards her.

"Wanda, ever since we met, I've just.. I feel like I've finally learned how to breathe. Everything before you was black and white and now.." You reach over to one of the dead plants that sat on the ground, the tips of your fingers glowing yellow as you touch it. Wanda watches with amusement as the plant comes to life, its dark branches becoming bright green, and its wilted leaves blooming wildly at your touch. "I truly feel alive when I'm with you."

There's a moment where neither of you speak or say a word, just looking into the other ones eyes. Wanda steps closer, closing the gap between the two of you. Her hands cup your cheeks, and a smile plays on her lips.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for this moment?" She whispers, breath fanning against your mouth. Instead of replying, you lean forward, connecting your lips with hers.

***

"We spent the whole night on that roof, watching the stars.. I didn't want to stop kissing you," Wanda admits with a chuckle, hearing you laugh from the other side of the phone.

"I miss your kisses... I love the way you kiss me. You always kiss me like it's the first and last time," Your voice trails, Wanda feels her heart race.

"Y/N..."

"Wands, I have to go now.. I'll call you tomorrow. Okay?"

"Okay, detka."

Wanda hears a click as you end the call. She sits there for what feels like hours before her phone rings again. She quickly looks at the screen, hopes diminishing she sees Natashas name light up. Wanda sighs and shakes her head, declining the call. She turns the TV on and turns on a random sitcom, watching until her eyes burn and she can no longer keep them open.

The Next Day

Wanda woke up late in the day, immediately checking her phone. The only calls she has missed are a few from Natasha. She rubs her eyes and wonders if last night was a dream, but when she checks her call history, it clearly shows your name.

After a slow start, she spends the day cleaning, in case anyone decides to stop by. They did that a lot now, randomly showing up at her door. Mostly Natasha. By night time, she was pacing her bedroom and biting her nails. The other hand held her phone.

Maybe you weren't going to call.

Maybe you had changed your mind.

Maybe you didn't want to talk to her.

Her own thoughts were caught off guard by the strong buzzing in her hand. She looked down and found herself smiling as your face popped up on the screen.

"Little witch.. I told you I was going to call," you chuckle softly. Wanda shakes her head.

"How do you always know what I'm thinking? I'm supposed to be the mind reader." Wanda jokes.

"Because you're my favorite book, and I've memorized every word. Cover to cover, read a million times."

Wanda lays on her back on the bed and closes her eyes. She always loved the way you spoke to her, no matter how cheesy the words came out.

"You know me better than anyone, better than anyone ever will... Are you okay, Y/N?"

"I'm perfect now that I'm talking to you." Wanda pictures you smiling against the phone.

"Tell me a story, Wands. Please?"

She thinks for a moment, opening her eyes to stare at the ceiling above her.

"I remember the first time I told you I loved you." Wanda smiles as she hears you sigh happily.

***

It was pouring rain, it had been for days now.

You and Wanda had enjoyed it, staying in your room with her favorite sitcoms playing and cuddling close under the covers. Currently, you had your head on Wandas chest, listening to her soft breathing. It was calming, hearing the steady beat of her heart. She twirled a strand of your hair on her finger, staring down at you.

"What are you thinking about, detka?" She asks.

"Nothing in particular.. mostly about you." You can't help but giggle, and Wanda can't help the warmth in her body as she hears your laugh.

"What about me?" She raises her eyebrow, watching as you sit up. You smirk at her, giving her a mischievous smile.

"I was just wondering... how ticklish you are!" You quickly move to straddle her waist, hands attacking her sides. Wanda throws her head back in fits of laughter, trying to swat your hands away. "Oooh, looks like you are very ticklish, little witch!" You're laughing with her now, feeling nothing but pure joy.

Red clouds form around you, and Wandas eyes glow red as she flips the two of you around, pinning you your hands to the bed. You're both panting now, trying to catch your breath as you calm down from laughing. Wanda is smiling down at you with emerald eyes, the brightest smile you've ever seen on her face.

"I love you, Y/N.." She speaks softly, face becoming more serious as she looks at you.

"Y-You do?" You whisper back, mouth parted and eyebrows raised. She nods.

"I love you so, so much.." She leans forward to kiss you passionately, putting all of her love for you into it. She wanted you to know how much she loved you and how important you were to her.

"I love you, Wanda," you mumble into the kiss, feeling her lips curl up into a smile. The two of you stop for a second, each taking in the moment of what you both just said.

The rain hits the windows harshly as she kisses you again, and you know in this moment, you are loved.

***

"I love that story," you say with another sigh. "We made love the entire night.. I think Tony almost kicked us out. We weren't there much long after that." You were giggling now, and Wanda could almost see the blush on your cheeks as she smiled.

"I love you, Y/N.. come home," Wanda whispers into the phone, turning on her side on the bed. She pictures you there, drawing circles on her back. "Come home to me.." She begs.

"Oh little witch.. I love you so much. I love hearing our stories. I have to go. We can talk more tomorrow?"

Wanda squeezes her eyes shut.

"Of course, sweetheart."

The call ends, and Wandas left alone, staring at the dark screen of her phone. A few minutes later, a text message pops up.

Nat - Hey, Wanda. Everything is prepared, Tony is planning for the day after tomorrow. Call me back.. if I don't hear back, I'm coming over.

Wanda - I'll be there. Can you pick me up?

Nat - Of course. It starts at 1, I'll pick you up at 12.

Wanda takes a deep breath and runs a shaky hand through her hair. Before she lays down, she turns the ringer on her phone up all the way.

The Next Morning

Wanda was looking in the closet for something to wear for tomorrow. Nothing seemed right. She angrily tossed the clothes on the ground, ripping shirt after shirt and pant after pant off of the hangers and onto the ground. She fell to her knees in the pile of clothes, her head in her hands.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

She peeked through her hands, listening to her phone ring. When she heard it again, she ran across the room to grab it, immediately pressing the green button.

"Good morning, my love." All of Wandas worries melted off her body, the wrinkles on her forehead disappearing as she heard your voice.

"Detka.. I wasn't expecting you to call until later," She says, staring at the now empty closet. Wanda flicks her wrist, and the clothes begin hanging themselves back up. "Not that I'm mad about it." She adds in.

"I couldn't help myself, I missed you."

"God, detka. I miss you so much." Wanda sits on the ground, her back leaning against the bed.

"I know, little witch. But I'll see you soon." Your words comfort her, and she finds herself smiling. "I know things have been so hard for you lately, but I'm always here for you... My sweet Wanda..." Your tone is cheerful, Wandas heart skips a beat.

"Want to hear another story, sweetheart?" Wanda asks.

"I think today I'll tell you one, Wands."

"Oh? What about?"

"The happiest week of my life."

Wanda freezes, clenching the phone in her hand. She nods slowly and lets out a sigh, "Okay."

"I remember it was a beautiful day, the perfect day.."

***

"I do."

"I definitely do," you say with a smile on your face, squeezing Wandas hands.

"You may now kiss the bride!"

Wanda pulls you closer, dipping you back as her lips press firmly against yours. Your arms wrap around her, both of you smiling into the kiss it almost wasn't a kiss. Just your faces pressed against each other.

When you pull back, you hear the slow claps of Natasha and Tony, the only other ones in the courtroom.

"So when's the honeymoon?" Tony smirks at the two of you, the four of you standing outside the courthouse.

"Hopefully soon," Wanda says with a smile, squeezing your hand in hers.

"Alright, well, we're having a party tomorrow night at the compound. No questions asked! Pepper is going to be furious that there wasn't a wedding." Tony laughs, Natasha along with him.

"Fine, fine. We'll be there!" You say, squeezing Wandas hand back.

***

"We couldn't even wait to have a wedding, remember baby? I just wanted to marry you so badly. I wanted to have your name.."

"Mrs. Maximoff.. I called you that all night, all week." Tears were threatening to fall from her shiny emerald eyes as she thinks back to the day. You giggle from the other side of the phone.

"We had on those rings we won from the arcade. Remember the one around the corner from our apartment?"

Wanda stands to look out of the window. She can see the flashing lights, even in the daytime, of the pizza/arcade place. She pictures the two of you walking hand and hand down the street.

"We were supposed to go on our honeymoon after that, but Steve called..."

**

"Why do they need you? And if they do I can go with you!" Wanda sighs as she watches you pack your bag, noticing you take a few of her shirts. She puts her hand on yours and lifts it up, kissing the ring on your finger. You smile at her.

"Little witch... I won't be gone long. They need me because I'm the whole reason why it all started." You sit on the bed, pulling her down with you and wrapping an arm around her. You sigh and kiss her cheek.

"I've told you about my past, how-" You pause, trying to find the right words.

"I haven't always been good. I've done some fucked up things and, I've got to make things right." Wanda sits and listens, understanding. Before she can ask to come again you stand up. "Besides, someone has to take care of Wade for me!" You smile and point to the fish tank on your end table, a bright red beta fish swims around.

Wanda looks at you, then to your fish. You both understood why you didn't want Wanda to go. It was going to be dangerous. She knows, of all people, what kind of past you lived. You hurt people, innocent people, for a cause you thought you believed in. She understood. So when the time came, she kissed you goodbye, kissing you like it was the first and last time.

"I'll call you.." You mumble in between kisses.

"Every.." Kiss. "Single.." Kiss. "Day.." Kiss. Wanda knew her kisses were your weakness, and it worked for a while. You were an hour late to meet Steve, but the smile on her face was worth it.

"You promise you'll call?" Wanda asks, standing in the doorway. You kiss her softly.

"I promise. I love you, little witch." You step back, a smile on your face. She couldn't help but smile back. You knew your smile was her weakness.

"I love you more, detka.."

**

"You kissed me for an hour straight," You laugh into the phone, Wanda wipes the tears off of her cheeks, laughing along with you.

"I really didn't want you to leave.. why did you leave?" She whispers the last part. You're quiet for a moment.

"I wanted to be a better person. I wanted to know that I did everything I could to make the world a better and safer place. For you.. for our kids."

Wanda sighs and sniffles, shaking her head.

"What were the names we picked out? I think we picked Billy..." Your tone is playful again. Wanda chuckles and rolls her eyes.

"Tommy.. We could never agree." She smiles through her tears.

"No, we never could, could we?" You sigh happily. "So maybe we'll have two."

"Twins run in my family," Wanda says, thinking of her own twin. More tears threatened to fall. She looks onto your side of the bed, a bright red fish swimming around in a tank on the nightstand.

"I know, sweetheart. I know. I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow. Okay? I love you."

Wanda sniffles, wiping her eyes, "I love you more."

The Next Day

"You ready?" Natasha asks, calling out to Wanda. She stood in Wandas living room, staring at a photo on the side table. It was a selfie of you and Wanda. She was kissing your cheek as you stuck your tongue out and closed your eyes. Natasha smiles at the sweet memory, being torn from her thoughts as Wanda walks into the room from down the hallway.

She decided she didn't care about an outfit. Wanda wore your favorite hoodie. It still smelled like your perfume. Natasha gives her a sad smile, pulling Wanda into her arms and hugging her tightly.

Wanda left the apartment with Natasha for the first time in weeks. She didn't really speak as Natasha drove. Wanda only listened to her and occasionally nodded her head. Wanda was focused on the clouds in the sky and the raindrops spilling from them. She was trying not to think of the phone in her pocket.

"The flowers are beautiful. Such a pretty yellow," Natasha says as she stares at the garden, holding an umbrella up over Wandas head. Wanda doesn't even try to wipe the tears that fall or bother to look at the others standing around her.

"Yellow daisies," is the only reply Natasha gets. As the two of them stand there together, Wanda feels her phone vibrate. She doesn't reach for it.

Her hand brushes against the dry leaves of a plant, once bright green but now a faded brown. As Wanda stares out into the city, her phone vibrates for the second time today. She inhales deeply, inhaling the familiar scent of the hoodie she wore. She answers the phone, not bothering to check the caller ID. She knows who it is.

"Little witch..." she hears as she puts the phone to her ear.

"Why didn't you answer my call?"

Wanda is silent for a moment, tears running down her face.

"Because I was at your funeral."

"I know. It was beautiful..." Wanda can't help the sobs that leave her mouth as she sits in the rickety chair.

"I don't understand," She says, chest tight as the sobs continue to thrash her shoulds forward.

"You do, Wands. Since the first call, you knew." She hears you sigh softly, your voice full of care. She felt as if her whole body was being hugged, just by hearing your voice.

Wanda thinks back to the day.

***

She was sitting in your shared apartment, watching TV. Her phone rang, and she looked at it excitedly, expecting to hear from you. Instead, she saw Natashas name.

"Wanda.." Her stomach dropped at the widows' sorrowful tone, the sniffle that came from the other side.

"Nat? What-whats wrong?" Wanda stands quickly.

"I'm on my way to you right now, I'll explain everything when I-"

"No! Tell me right now. What's going on? Is it Y/N? Is she hurt?" Wandas mind begins to race, her heart beating out of her chest at the thought of you getting hurt. Natasha sighs, another sniffle.

"No, Wanda, she- " Natasha pauses, not believing the words she is about to say. "Y/N got hurt, really bad. They said they did everything they could, but Wanda.. she didn't make it."

The phone in her hand drops to the floor, her whole body shaking. Nats' muffled voice can be heard from the phone, still speaking, but no one to listen. Wanda falls to the ground, the entire room burning red as she begins to sob. Natasha ran in only a few minutes later, finding the place a wreck.

She couldn't even have a funeral for you right away. They had to get you back.

***

"Why do you keep calling me?" Her voice is small, throat scratchy from the sobs.

"Because I promised I would."

Wanda sniffles, and you're quiet as she cries for a moment. When she calms a little, she looks over to the empty chair next to her on the roof. She didn't care if this was real or not. If she was losing her mind, if she was making this up. She was hearing your voice, and that was real enough.

"You'll call every day?" She stares at the sun setting, leaning back into the chair and inhaling deeply as she wraps your hoodie tighter around her.

"Every single day, little witch. How about another story?" Wanda hears the smile on your face and closes her eyes, rubbing the small bump of her stomach.

-----

A/n: I got this idea from a writing prompt that I can't find anymore! The prompt was -

"Why didn't you answer?"

"I was at your funeral."

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

Love me harder

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are having a nice day out with Elizabeth when a paparazzi stumble over you

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. This was inspired by that photos of Lizzie eating ice cream.

Warnings: Elizabeth Olsen being too cute

MASTERLIST

“What flavor do you want?”

You heard your girlfriend asking you with her lips brushing just behind your ear before a quick kiss landed right there, making your entire body melt against her. Elizabeth was standing behind you, one arm around your waist, and easily sustained your weight with a low chuckle at the reaction she got from you. People around you paid no mind at all despite the park being packed with families and passers-by enjoying the sunny day out.

“Chocolate,” you replied after giving it some thought. You had never eaten ice cream from the truck Elizabeth had taken you to, but chocolate was your forever favorite.

“Okay,” Elizabeth said and removed her arm from around you. You turned your head to look at her, already smiling the easy smile that came to your face whenever you were around her, but she simply slid on her sunglasses again and smirked. “Stay here, I will go to the line. It’s too sunny,” she declared, gently guiding you to take another step back to stay in the big shadow the tree behind you was providing.

You rolled your eyes fondly at the sweetness of her gesture, but didn’t try to argue as she walked away. You knew there was no point in arguing, after all. So you watched as your girlfriend walked a few feet to your right to stand in the line to buy both of you the ice cream she promised you would get if you woke up early to go out with her. She wanted to go to the street market for days now, mostly because she wanted to buy some new flowers to her garden but also because she knew they had the most fresh vegetables around, and she was finally home to do so. Of course, she would drag you along with her. And, of course, you would agree to wake up at a ridiculous hour in the morning to buy carrots just because she pouted at you.

There were very few things you wouldn’t do when Elizabeth pouted at you and she knew that.

“Here we go.”

You noticed you had dozed off when you heard her voice approaching you. You looked over in time to see her walking towards you while holding two cones with a soft smile on her lips before she handed you the chocolate one. She took advantage of her free hand to raise her sunglasses to the top of her head again and you were blessed with the sight of her green eyes.

“Thanks, Lizzie,” you smiled at her, already moving to take a bite out of the ice cream. It made her shudder, as you knew it would, because she couldn’t imagine how you were able to just bite ice-cold things and not feel anything.

Even so, she made sure to lean in to press a kiss against your cheek. “Not a problem, honey. Do you want to sit down to eat?”

“Can we? I'm afraid I might make a mess if I try to walk and eat at the same time,” you admitted with a shy grin, looking down at the ice cream that had already started to melt a bit.

“Of course.” Elizabeth nodded and used her plastic spoon to point at a bench not far from where you both were. It was under a tree so there was a big shadow around it as well, and there weren’t many people around since most seemed to be enjoying their day to run or walk their dogs. “There are a few benches over there.”

“Let's go.” You both walked towards the bench with no rush and you sat down as soon as you reached it, stretching your legs in front of you in the air and groaning. “Ah, my feet are killing me.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at you, but she had a smile on her face. “We didn't walk that much.”

“No, but I'm tired,” you complained, licking your ice cream with a pout.

Elizabeth, who had been eating her treat with the spoon, glanced at you for a moment. “You're only saying that because you want me to put all the groceries away when we get home.”

“Of course not!” You exclaimed in fake shock, even going as far as placing a hand against your chest. “I would never.”

This time, your girlfriend laughed and shook her head. “You're lucky I love you,” she mumbled while leaning down.

“Yes, I am,” you agreed easily because, really, you were so lucky to have Elizabeth in your life and, even more so, that she loved you so dearly.

Your lips connected in a quick peck since you were both in a public space and in odd positions, but she sighed when she pulled away. “You taste like chocolate.”

“And you taste like pistachio,” you replied with an adoring smile. You wished you could kiss her again, but Elizabeth was already straightening her back. She had not sat down by your side, kind of towering over you, but you didn’t mind. “Which I think I don't have a problem with when I taste it like that,” you added and stared at her ice cream as if it had personally offended you somehow. You didn’t like pistachio, which was ironic because that was Elizabeth’s favorite flavor.

Your girlfriend threw you an amused glare before pointing at your ice cream with her plastic spoon. “Eat.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, obviously. The ice cream was delicious, there were some chocolate bits inside, and you were positively sure that the truck had the best ice cream in the entire city. You would tell Elizabeth that later on because she kept telling you this for weeks now and you didn’t believe her before.

You both ate in silence for a few minutes. You were watching people walking past you, focused on all the cute dogs walking with their owners or the birds trying to steal popcorn from people passing by, barely paying attention to anything else. Elizabeth took a few looks around over her shoulders and you assumed she was also watching the dogs, but you noticed the way she shifted closer to you at some point, almost touching your feet together. You looked up, a bit surprised, and noticed she had lowered her sunglasses again, which did not prevent you from seeing the frown that was suddenly on her face.

“What?” You asked because you knew her enough to know there was something wrong.

Elizabeth, who had been gazing down at her ice cream with her lips pursed, looked up from her glasses at you. “Huh?”

“You made a face,” you pointed out, deciding not to mention that she had basically changed positions as well, or that her posture had gone stiff.

It looked like that, for a second, she was going to dismiss your worries, but Elizabeth eventually sighed almost sadly and her shoulders dropped. “I'm sorry,” she declared and, this time, it was clear she was tense. “I saw someone taking pictures.” Elizabeth made a face and discreetly pointed over her right shoulder to show you where that person was, but you didn’t try to look over. You realized she had moved to try to cover you from whoever had a camera pointed in your direction. After she saw realization washing over your expression, she sighed again. “I'm so sorry.”

She sounded so earnest, her sadness so crude, that you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to squeeze her arm. “That's okay, Lizzie.”

“No, it's not.” She shook her head. “You shouldn't have to suffer the consequences of the career I chose for myself.”

That wasn’t the first time she expressed how upset she got when someone tried to drag you to her crazy lifestyle. You had been dating for over two years now, but you just recently came public with it because she was trying to keep you away from all of that - she had adamantly assured you that it wasn’t because you were a woman and you belived her. The paparazzi, people following you around, newsletters treating you as a public figure, fans stopping you in the street to ask you questions about her, and the influence it could have on your work and your very normal, mundane life. But you both reached an agreement to have her post a picture of you two at one of her castmate's wedding to announce to the world your relationship and things hadn’t gone as bad as you initially thought they might go.

Sure, some people found out where you worked and showed up, but your boss was understanding and just added more security for a while until it all settled back again. Other than that, the occasional fan giving you something for you to pass along to Elizabeth, and the eventual paparazzi taking pictures, things weren’t so crazy. You hadn’t shown up on her Instagram again, mostly because Elizabeth herself wasn’t very into social media, and you kept your own account private, only accepting your friends and family there so you could keep posting all you wanted.

That was a thing that happened when you dated a Marvel’s movie star when you weren’t one yourself. However, dating Elizabeth Olsen wasn’t all bad as your girlfriend made it seem - or believed so herself. You had been together for a while, enough for you to know there was no one else capable of making you feel as happy as she did. You would move mountains to be with her, so you could endure a few pictures taken without your consent, as annoying as it might be.

“Hey,” you called her softly, letting your hand caress her arm until you were touching her hand. She stopped spinning the small spoon with her fingers when you touched her, but it took a few more seconds before her eyes moved up to meet yours. You wished she didn’t have her sunglasses on, although they weren’t dark enough to hide all of them. “Thank you for protecting me,” you said, making sure you sounded as honest as you were. “I know you try to hide me when you see someone is taking photos.”

“I just…” Elizabeth sighed and allowed you to play with her fingers, letting go of the spoon. “I don't want to hide you, but you don't deserve to have your life ruined because of me.”

There it was again. The way Elizabeth made it seem like she was bringing the end of the world straight at you. You could understand that, of course, because her life had always been under the spotlight since she was a baby. She saw how being in the media affected her sisters, what it did to them, and how it shifted her life as well. So, of course, you understood why she was so protective of you when it came to that. It just made you love her even more.

“My life could never be ruined because of you,” you affirmed and allowed a small smile to turn the corners of your lips up. “You are the reason why my life has been pretty great lately.” Elizabeth also smiled, although it didn’t reach her eyes, and you decided to kiss her palm to remind her you were not going anywhere. You didn’t care if the person was still taking pictures or not, if that was going to reach the internet somewhere or not. “Eat your ice cream, sunshine.”

She smiled more widely at the pet name you used as you let go of her hand so you could both finish eating. By that point, the ice cream was melting down the cone and almost reaching your fingers, so you sped up to eat it. Elizabeth still kept trying to hide you, but she looked more at ease when she started biting down on the cone, so you also allowed yourself to relax.

Once you were done with the ice cream, she helped you to stand, putting out one of her hands, and then grabbed your napkin to throw it away in the trashcan a few steps to the side. When she returned, you didn’t think twice before pulling her in for a peck.

“Thank you for the ice cream. I loved it.”

“I told you they were good,” she replied with a soft smile. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Don’t you want to buy anything else?” You asked, pointing over your shoulder to the street market still happening.

Elizabeth looked over and thought for a few seconds, before she looked at you again. “No. I think we’re good.”

“Okay.” You nodded and turned around. “Let’s take a walk then. I know they have a dog park on the other side and I really want to see some cute dogs today.”

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, probably thinking if she should take you away from the camera still lurking around, but she saw your excited smile and quickly made up her mind. She curled one arm around your waist and you started walking slowly along with the other people enjoying the day out.

You took four or five steps before getting out of the shadow you had been and the sun hit your face full force. It wasn’t a warm day per se, since it was early autumn, but the sun was already making his presence known after a long winter, so you weren’t surprised there were that many people out. You raised your hand to try to cover up the sun from your eyes, even if you knew you wouldn’t be able to stay like that for much longer. Before you could think too much about it, though, Elizabeth took her sunglasses and handed them to you.

“Oh, I’m fine.”

“Keep it,” she insisted.

You were about to try to give her the sunglasses back when she kissed the side of your head and you lost all ability to talk suddenly. Elizabeth smiled like she knew what she was doing when she did that, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain, so you just slid the glasses in place and tried to ignore the blush on your cheeks. You walked for maybe two minutes before any of you talked again.

“You know we’re going further away from our car, right?” Elizabeth asked, albeit she sounded amused.

You remembered where she had parked her car because you had to walk there three times to put away the things she bought, but you didn’t care. You would walk a marathon if you had to. Anything for Elizabeth… and some cute dogs.

“I know,” you agreed and then joked: “But now I have sunglasses.”

Elizabeth laughed happily and you decided there was nothing in the world able to keep you from hearing it for the rest of your life.

[wrightingdungeon]

SDV Bachelors seeing you in a swimsuit for the first time Pt1

AFAB Farmer

Alex: Alex had been so used to seeing you in skirts, long sleeves, and hijab-covered modestly that it made him double-take when you said you'd like to join him on the beach. He had no idea what your hair looked like, and the idea of seeing you go from modest to a swimsuit made him blush. When he saw you approach him covered head to ankle he blinked slowly having no idea what you were wearing. “It's a burkini! You like it?” You asked posing quickly. You wore a vibrant burkini with a blue base adorned with white and brown leopard spots. The long-sleeved top provided full coverage with a modest neckline, and the matching leggings were a change from the skirts he was used to seeing, but you stood confident and elegant as you always had. “Yeah, it's adorable, it suits you well.”

Elliot: Sitting on the shore he looked out to the ocean hoping the crashing sounds of the waves would help him with his writer's block, maybe the waves would wash away the fog like they eroded the beach line. “What ya doing Elliot?” Hearing you behind him he looked up smiling seeing you holding a beach bag, wearing a light pink bikini set. The top features a halter neckline holding snugly to your upper body. The bottom consists of a skirted bikini with a side slit, adding a playful and feminine touch, It looked like one of Emily's crochet projects. “Just trying to work on my book, and you?” He asked leaning back onto his palms and relaxing at your arrival. “Taking time to myself looks like you need to do the same.” Elliot laughed not able to disagree with you at that observation.

Harvey: He was busy applying sunscreen and ensuring his sun hat was well-adjusted ready to enjoy a day off, he hadn't heard you sneaking up in the sand. “Hey, Harvey! Taking a day off?” He nearly fell out of his chair, crushing the brim of his hat a bit from gripping it tightly. “Oh hi Farmer, yes I-” His voice got caught in his throat as he turned to look at you, dressed in a light peach one-piece swimsuit adorned with bright and light orange flowers, complemented by small green leaves. The neckline plunges to the solar plexus and is accentuated with delicate ruffles. The thick straps holding your shoulders firm ensure the top doesn't slip more than desired. “Getting sunburned already Doc?” Hearing you teasing him made him realize how warm his cheeks felt.

Sam: Sam groaned watching Vincent play in the water, he loved his brother but wanted to go into town with Sebastian and Abigail, not babysit his brother. “This blows man…” he leaned his head over letting out a sigh. “I think the sun feels rather good.” Looking up he smiled hearing your familiar voice, his eyes looked over your swimsuit taking in the high-waisted bottoms and halter top it was a cute little vintage number, the white with bright yellow lemons and green leaves looked playful and cheerful. “Got stuck babysitting?” you teased, smirking softly already knowing the answer. “Yeah..” He said his voice trailing off, seeing your hand in front of his face he looked up at you. “Well let's go get in the water, mopey pants.” You said pulling him up and dragging him to join his little brother.

Sebastian: You had offered to teach him to surf if he taught you how to ride a motorcycle. “You want me to dress like a traffic cone?” Looking at the neon Orange wet suit you had given him, he looked back up and saw you wearing an identical one, its long sleeves hugged your arms, the bikini-style bottom contrasting against your skin. “Hey if you get swept out to sea you can be found ten times easier than wearing black.” You said informing him of how to be safe in the water. “Fine but you have to wear a safety vest next time we ride my bike.” He groaned turning to go and change into the neon wetsuit. “Hey! If it means I get saved faster Gladly!.” He chuckled hearing your quip as he shut himself in the changing room.

Shane: He leaned his head back smiling softly feeling the warm sun on his skin, he heard giggles coming from Jas. Peeking an eye open he smiled seeing you were leaning over talking to Jas whispering about something. He chuckled softly at your swimsuit, a wife pleaser for a shirt, your black bikini top showing slightly against the white, your black swim shorts mid-length, extending to just above the knee it wasn't flashy but it was you. Closing his eyes he smiled knowing he could take a nap with you being there. Feeling warm sand get poured on him and hearing Jas’s high-pitched giggles he opened his eyes seeing the two of you quickly trying to bury him in the sand.

[oh-stars]

Doodles

Hurt

a Stobin Month 2024 prompt | 539 words | CW: off-screen injury | Rating: G

--

“Does this make me old now?”

Robin rolls her eyes as she sits down beside Steve. She sets her markers down in the crease of her thigh as she twists to face him on the couch. “You’re not old.” 

“Me five years ago would never fumble this hard,” Steve huffs. He goes to cross his arms, but the big, bulky cast on his left hand stops him. He glares hard at it before offering it back to Robin. 

She hums a thankful noise and uncaps the first marker. 

“Just no dicks, please,” Steve sighs, leaning his head back. “I cannot go to work with dicks on my arm.” 

“Who do you think I am? Eddie?” Robin rolls her eyes again . “I would never draw a dick on your arm.” Boobies, however, are a different story. She makes them small and at the top part of his cast where it’s most likely going to be obscured by his shirts and jackets. 

Steve pouts. “I just cannot believe I fell so hard I broke my arm during a game with a bunch of old men.” 

“Aren’t they all under forty?” 

“Yeah, but this,” he gestures to the cast, “proves that I, the youngest of the group, is old and therefore, so are they.” 

“Come back to me when you get your first gray hair, then we can talk.”

“Why would you put that on me? Do you want me to die young? Jesus Christ, Robs,” Steve practically screeches, running his free hand through his hair. 

She just smiles and starts drawing little flowers randomly on the plaster, trading out colors every now and then. He got a bright neon green, so the darker colors are really popping against the plaster. 

For about thirty minutes, Steve just watches the ceiling fan as she doodles on his arm. She’s not leaving room for anyone else to sign, and maybe that’s selfish but Steve’s hers so she’ll do as she pleases, thank you.

Robin looks down at the mostly covered work and sighs. She decides to leave two openings for Dustin and Eddie to sign – the only two of the party who live in Chicago with them right now – but covers the rest. If she left any more openings, Eddie would doodle dicks and nerd shit while Dustin would use Steve’s arm to write equations or something. At least she’s drawing stuff he actually likes. 

There’s baseballs and basketballs (which she realizes may be a sore subject right now, so she put those where they were least visible) among the flowers and little music notes sprinkled in. She even drew a bottle of hairspray in the crease of his elbow. There’s a symbol for every job they’ve worked together: an icecream cone for Scoops Ahoy, a VHS tape for Family Video, a book for that bookstore they love, coffee mug from the brief time they tried to be baristas, a donut from the bakery that Steve still works at full-time and Robin helps out on the weekends, a pawprint for the pet store Robin convinced him to try, and a bone for the museum where Robin was a tour guide (and now does research at full-time) and Steve worked in the gift shop. 

And in big letters, going down his arm, she’s signed, “I love you dingus ❤ Robin.” 

“How’s that look?” 

Steve looks over it with a fond smile, the first since he reluctantly called her from the gym this morning. “It’s perfect.” 

--

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

[ruthbancroftgarden]

Hakea petiolaris

Like Banksia, Hakea is an Australian genus of shrubs and small trees in the Protea Family, but in Hakea the flower clusters are often spherical, as seen here with Hakea petiolaris. In this species, the transformation of the flower cluster as it develops is especially wonderful. The upper photo shows the cone-like initial appearance of the developing flower head. The second photo shows the young flowers expanding and pushing apart the scales of the "cone"; at this stage, the cluster looks like a bunch of green or yellowish-green clubs emerging from a purple center. The third photo shows the styles starting to emerge, doubled over and looking like white loops. Finally, in the fourth photo, the styles have straightened out, so that the cluster looks like a pincushion or a sea urchin, with the flowers below having turned pink. Hakea petiolaris comes from near Perth in Western Australia.

-Brian

[son1c]

they find a tamagotchi in this one

falling stars fic masterpost

Sonic didn’t sleep. He couldn’t–despite his own exhaustion, he knew it would be a huge risk to rest out in the open. So, he stayed up all night. He kept watch over Shadow until the stars began to fade from the sky, and the dark hedgehog stirred.

When Shadow awoke, he found himself tangled in a flower bed. He wasn’t pleased at the soil that fell from his quills when he sat up, but it could’ve been worse. Instead of seeing a lush meadow and bright blue sky, he could’ve been looking at the pale green walls of the haunted hospital. For that reason, Shadow decided to let it go.

Sonic looked up from the sunflower stem he was toying with. “Good morning, sunshine,” he said cheerfully.

Shadow frowned. “What did you do?”

“Nothin’ much,” was Sonic’s response. He spoke casually, his fingers still twisting the stem in his hands. “You did all the heavy lifting.”

Shadow noticed the dark circles under Sonic’s eyes, and understood. Not only had Sonic gotten them out of that ghost town, but he’d also sacrificed his own rest in order to ensure their safety. “I didn’t need to rest,” Shadow said, his frown deepening. “You shouldn’t have–”

“Yeah,” Sonic interrupted with a shrug, “but I did.” Finally, Sonic stopped fiddling with the sunflower in his hands. He had tied it to a bunch of other flowers, creating a floral circlet which he then plopped onto his head with a lopsided grin. “You had me worried back there, Stripes. When you dropped like that, I figured it was about time I took the night shift. Simple as that.”

Shadow wanted to get defensive. There was nothing to worry about, he was fine, and so on. But the truth was, he was a little concerned too. That searing pain was still fresh in his mind, and even though he was feeling better now, it bothered him not knowing what had caused it.

Of course, he had his suspicions… and that red hot energy–Chaos Energy, if that accursed ghost was to be believed–was his prime suspect.

Shadow folded his arms over his chest. “Your worry would be better spent on yourself,” he told Sonic pointedly. “Instead of a stranger.”

Propping his chin up with his hand, Sonic leaned forward and asked, “You really believe that?”

The clouds drifted lazily across the sky. There was no wind to fill the silence. Shadow knitted his brows, thinking over Sonic’s question carefully. But there were no answers to be found, since his memory was still a black hole, filled only with empty hallways and distant echoes.

In the end, Shadow responded by pushing himself to his feet. He shuffled through the flowers until he was standing right in front of Sonic, who was watching him intently. Shadow offered him his hand. “The world is a stranger to me,” he said. “You should understand that.”

Sonic took Shadow’s hand with a smile. Then, he pulled himself up. “From where I’m standing,” Sonic said, “you look pretty familiar to me.”

It wasn’t long before they were off again. Shadow headed in the opposite direction from whence they came, trying to put as much distance between them and the ghost town as he could. Hopefully, they’d be able to find a real town next, and not another horror show.

During the trek, Sonic slept soundly in Shadow’s arms. He didn’t wake until Shadow shook his shoulders several hours later. The sun was hanging high in the sky now, and the flowers had disappeared. Where there once was endless greenery, Sonic could only see dirt and heavy steel beams strewn about. It looked like a construction zone.

Crinkling his nose, Sonic said, “Looks like things have gotten pretty ugly.”

“Keep your voice down,” Shadow hissed. “We’re being watched.”

Sonic’s ears stood straight up. He looked around, but couldn’t see anything moving among the beams and orange cones except for a few ribbons of caution tape, which swayed slightly in the breeze. It was only when he looked down at the dirt that he noticed it–a dark shape hiding inside of a hollow beam about 20 feet away.

Whatever it was, it was small. And when it noticed Sonic looking at it, it retreated further back into the beam, its glowing eyes blinking rapidly.

Frowning, Sonic whispered, “Stripes, I think it’s… scared.”

Shadow narrowed his eyes. “Or, it’s bait.”

The figure trembled in the darkness. It didn’t look like bait to Sonic, but he could understand why Shadow might think that. After all, they’d already been attacked twice, and one of those times was by a building of all things. Even so, Sonic wasn’t about to turn his back on a frightened little creature.

Sonic turned to Shadow. “I wanna check it out.”

With an incredulous look, Shadow said, “What if it’s dangerous?”

Sonic countered with, “What if it’s hurt?”

Shadow pursed his lips. The intensity of Sonic’s stare read like a challenge. So, Shadow set him down.

Once he was standing, Sonic started to creep forward, toward the shadowy figure. Shadow immediately grabbed him by the arm and gave him a hard look, but Sonic just waved his hand. Compared to the parasitic paranormal threat they’d just faced, this thing was small potatoes.

When he reached the opening to the beam, Sonic sat down in the dirt. His broken leg made it impossible to crouch, so that was really his only option if he wanted to keep his eyes on the thing hiding in the darkness. It watched him with wide eyes, eyes that Sonic now realized were electronic.

“How cool is that,” Sonic whistled. “What’s a thing like you doing in a place like this?”

Shadow knelt beside Sonic. He peered into the beam with a guarded expression. So, it was a robot?

The little robot didn’t look at Shadow. It was focused entirely on Sonic, its glowing blue eyes still blinking rapidly. It was impossible to read its expression, since it had none, but it was clearly thinking hard about something. And after a few more seconds passed, it began to slowly inch forward toward the hedgehogs.

Shadow tensed, but Sonic grinned.

When the robot stuck its head out from inside of the beam, Sonic’s grin widened. “Check it out, Stripes! It’s a ladybug!”

Shadow didn’t know of any ladybugs that had claws attached to their arms. He also didn’t know of any ladybugs that rolled on a wheel instead of walked with their legs. But the little robot’s dotted red pattern was definitely ladybug-like.

Shadow was still tense. “It’s possible,” he said slowly, “that this robot is a worker here.”

Finally, the little robot looked away from Sonic. It stared at Shadow, unnerving him with its electronic gaze. But it remained silent. Maybe it was unable to speak?

“I dunno,” Sonic said, “it’s kinda small to be cartin’ around all this scrap metal. The way I see it, this little guy’s probably just lost.” He waited until the robot’s eyes were back on him before holding out his hand to it. “Don’t worry, buddy. We won’t hurt you.”

Cautiously, the little robot tapped Sonic’s finger with one of its claws. Then, it watched his eyes light up at the touch with confusion. The gears in its head were turning at mach speed. To the robot, it didn’t make any sense. None of this did. Its sensors indicated that this was Sonic the Hedgehog, but if that was true, then why was he acting like this?

When Sonic petted the motobug’s head, the poor robot just about blue screened from surprise.

“Blue, we should get moving.” Shadow suddenly said. Now that he knew the robot wasn’t a threat, he was starting to regret waking Sonic up.

The little robot’s antennas twitched. Then, it looked down at Sonic’s broken leg, and came up with an idea. Even though it was still questioning the validity of its scanners, it knew one thing for sure: Eggman wouldn’t be happy if it let the real Sonic escape.

So, the motobug tapped Sonic on the chest, and then motioned to its back. Get on, it seemed to say.

It took Sonic a second to understand, but once he did, he could hardly contain his excitement. Before Shadow could stop him, he climbed onto the back of the little robot. It was the perfect size for a Mobian rider.

“It’s not a worker, it’s a buggy!” Sonic said, snickering. “Now we’ll really be movin’! Yeah!”

Shadow looked like he was ready to send the robot to the junkyard. But after a few seconds passed and nothing bad happened, he had to admit that his reservations might be unwarranted this time. If the thing was going to transform into a giant mech bent on destroying them, surely it would’ve done so by now, instead of letting its engine purr when Sonic scratched the underside of its chin.

Exasperated, Shadow said, “Don’t get your hopes up. We haven’t seen the extent of its abilities yet.”

Sonic raised an eyebrow. Then, he looked down at the motobug, his eyes bright with excitement. “Whaddaya say, little guy? Wanna go for a test drive?”

The robot twirled its antennas and revved its engine. A race was the perfect excuse to give its processors time to sort out the mystery of the blue hedgehog’s true identity.

“Don’t hold back,” Shadow told the robot. Then, a small smirk appeared on his face when he added, “But know this–I won’t lose to you.”

Like a shot, Shadow took off toward the city skyline at the far end of the construction zone.

Sonic’s eyes widened at the cloud of dust he left behind. His heart beat fast in his chest, the challenge exciting him. He grabbed the motobug’s antennas and ushered it forward, saying, “C'mon, little buddy! Let’s show Stripes a thing or two about speed!”

The motobug chirped, and then sped off in pursuit of Shadow, with Sonic cheering the whole way.

[velarisbynight]

Stone Statues and Viperous Hair

Elain x Ianthe

a/n: this might ruffle some people’s feathers, so please scroll past if you aren’t interested! 🩷🩷

warnings: Ianthe; Elain being a seer

word count: 1.6k~

~~~~

Vanilla and marzipan follows in her wake, diaphanous pink trailing behind the soft-padded footsteps of the female as she passes through the desolate halls of the Spring Court temple. 

Earth-roughened hands lay home-grown flowers to the foot of the altar—pale white lilies, the interior of the narrow, creamy petals speckled with mauve and striped through with a peachy blush. Gentle fingers with clipped nails reorganise the bunch, so they’re laying neatly atop the hard, rectangular cushions, situated to lay one’s knees upon for comfort of praying. 

Ringlets of burnished gold slide forward over full, pale shoulders as the female bows her head, hands resting in her lap, falling to silence. 

~~~~

Ianthe sits comfortable, concealed deep within the interior of her temple. Powdery blue cushions litter the private sanctuary, sheer silk curtains strung from the coned-ceiling, illustrations of the seasons passing around the circumference. Barley and corn are painted in gold, cattle in ox-blood red though the paint is peeling, seeds and shoots glow with lush green, and the sun’s rays stretch like narrow threads to every part of the year, though they wane in winter. Silver chimes hang from the entrance: stars and crescent moons, thin rings and fat drops of metal, a shower of hand-crafted charms dripping down to the cracked tile floor, each one no bigger than the nail of one’s finger. 

The pale blue stone mounted on Ianthe’s brow swirls with iridescence, fading to its dull navy once thick lashes raise from teal eyes, the magic nulled. 

Ianthe had paid little attention to the female visiting at first—had hardly noticed her comings and goings in the dead of night. Just another virtue-signalling visitor, pretending to pray merely because it’s what’s expected in this court. But then she’d begun appearing at night, a supple figured creature creeping into the swirling blue of her priestess’ stone, slipping into Ianthe’s unconscious mind with every night-time visit. Ianthe had considered removing the stone from her brow, but a cold sweat rises to her skin at the mere thought of disobeying the rules instilled into her from a young age, fearing those dagger-tipped fingers.

The temple is empty save for the female whose name alone has a mix of sickness and fury icing and heating her blood in equal parts. Elain Archeron. Archeron. 

The carpals in her ruined hand burn with pain, aches searing through her wrist to her forearm, shooting to her shoulder and burning through her palm. How long has it been seen Ianthe’s ventured to the outside? When was the last time Ianthe breathed air, untouched by dampness and mildew, laced with the fermented burn of ethanol that was mixed with varnish to seal the golden paint in high above?  

Ianthe has no recollection of where her hatred came from, nor her fear; the sweat-slicked terror that sears through her blood, coming from allowing her teal eyes to ponder the pale fullness of exposed shoulders for a moment longer than she should. 

How dare the female visit her temple; seek refuge beneath its high-topped roof; find peace in Ianthe’s prison cell. 

How dare she be the cause of the tempest of swelling desire and anguish that laces her blood. 

How dare she invade her only sanctuary. 

~~~~

Elain raises her head when the air stirs, motes shifting faintly against her skin, senses preternaturally aware. 

A faint prickling of hairs gathers on the righthand side of her body, cocoa eyes remaining still and steady as her pulse spikes. Is someone else here? It should be empty. 

Her throat rolls, gaze set on the lilies while her ears search for noise, sharpening for any sign to flee. Elain despises the idea of anyone witnessing such a private passing of prayer. 

Dust stirs to her right, and without shifting her gaze she can find the figure concealed a few hallways away, through the antechamber with six ionic-carved columns upholding the ceiling. Elain’s brow narrows, finding the female’s eyes closed, the stone contained within her silver circlet shimmering. Priestess robes wrap her body, and her silvery-pale hair hangs like deadened snakes down her torso. 

Through her mind, Elain encroaches further, her conscious floating nearer until she can make out the myriad of opalescent grains twinkling within the whirlpool of blue, a darkness at its centre, not dissimilar from the pupil of one’s—

Teal eyes snap open, the stone pupil closing, and an icy gaze glares throughout the empty chamber. Elain recoils, slamming back into her body, panting faintly in the frigid air of the temple. She’d been caught. 

~~~~

Ianthe trembles in her seat, staring out between the twinkling silver of the charms, the six pillars lining the entrance to the enclosure, practically a pathway to find her, if the female chooses to seek further. A pearl of sweat slides down the pronounced knuckles of Ianthe’s spine, breath misting as it curls in hot tendrils from her lips. The sense of something much larger than herself looms in the background of her recent memory, terror coiling in her chest at the depth of that power, a cauldron frothing over its wrought-iron lip, pale fingers tracing the circumference, eyes as pale as the full moon staring out from behind the thickened mist, piercing right into the Priestess’ sanctuary. 

On shaking calves, Ianthe rises to her bare feet, parting the frozen stream of silver charms to peer out into the empty antechamber. Through that door at the far end, down the hallway and left, along the second hallway, turn to the right, and she’ll find the alter. The female knelt at its base, choosing to lay her skin upon the unforgiving tiles rather than the rectangular cushions provided. 

They’re probably damp by now, anyway. 

~~~~

On hesitant feet, Elain trails through the doorways and hallways, carried by curiosity deeper into the temple to places and rooms she hasn’t ventured before. The air here is as stagnant as it is in the main chamber where she’d come from, except it’s lonelier. Nobody’s come down these hallways in a long while—she can tell.

Two heavy doors lead to the six ionic-carved pillars, and at the far end…the Priestess. 

Elain can see clearly that the robes are far from pristine, heavy and creased around a narrow body. Teal eyes stare out from the darkness, though they’re practically hidden beneath the weight of the large stone sat on her brow, wreathed in a delicate silver circlet.

Elain steps into the antechamber, the air noticeably cooler within the windowless, high-topped cavern. She pauses only a few paces inside, observing the stillness of the priestess’ body, thinking of the ones who take refuge within the library of the Night Court. In as gentle a tone as she can manage, she calls out, “Who are you?”  

Heartbeats pass, thumping into the silence of the chamber until the female inclines her chin, pressing a pale, bare foot to the tiled floor of the temple, stepping out from the darkness. “This is my Temple.” She replies, standing tall and wiry in the dim light of darkness. The crest of teal eyes narrow, sharpening. “And what are you?” 

“I am a seer.” Elain’s tongue swipes across dry, rosey lips. “I felt you watching me.” Despite the distance and darkness, it’s easy to pick out the rigidity that crawls up the priestess’ spine. “This is my Temple,” the priestess repeats, firmer than before. “I oversee it.” 

Elain’s breath hitches, foot inching half a step closer. “You are also a Seer?” 

A pale hand raises to the stone atop her brow, tapping it with the sharpened point of her nail. “I see through my Invoking Stone.” 

So, no. 

Elain can’t help the discouraged slope of her shoulders. But, “I haven’t seen you before. —In the Temple, I mean.” 

A pause, then, “I keep to myself.” 

Spring is still rebuilding itself, even so long after it fell. Elain wonders if the Priestess remained here even throughout the desertion. Did she stay out of a sense of duty, or fear? A mix of both? …she could probably find out, by taking less than a few steps further and gauging how she would react. 

Elain dips her head once. She has her answers—the Priestess was watching over her Temple. Elain can leave, now. But she doesn’t. “Have you seen me before?” 

“No.” 

“I frequent your Temple. You would have seen me before.” 

“Not in person,” the priestess replies, tone icing over. 

“But through your Invoking Stone?” 

A beat, then the swift dip of her head. Elain’s throat bobs. “Then, you’ve seen me pray.” It’s not quite a question. 

“A number of times,” The priestess replies, shifting on her bare feet. “I watch over everyone who enters.” 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s my Temple.”

There’s a note hidden in that chord, somewhere. A note of emotion Elain can’t quite place, but it sounds like anger. “I didn’t mean to intrude… Temples are open to anyone, aren’t they?” 

Narrow lips purse, nails digging into sunken skin. 

Elain swallows then straightens her spine, inclining her chin. “I’ll leave you to yourself.” She doesn’t want to be watched over during such a private exchange. That someone has been all this time…Elain’s skin crawls, a feeling on contamination spreading through her gut, slimy and cold. 

As Elain turns to leave, however, the priestess calls out. “You can stay.” Her voice tremors. “I haven’t… Hardly anyone else comes by. I won’t look if it’s just you.” 

Cocoa eyes flick over to the other end of the antechamber, but the female has vanished, retreated back behind the thin veil of silver and blue. Charms chiming in her wake. 

[alex51324]

Besides the farm box, my other adventure today was going to the agricultural fair!

This time, I became fascinated with a contest called "vegetable dress-up," where kids enter vegetables that they have arranged to look like animals, people, vehicles, etc.

My favorite was this Red Pepper Sheep:

Or cow. I'm not sure, but either way, it's great! The head and feet are scallions, and the horns are green beans. Tragically, this entry did not win anything. I am not privy to the judging criteria for this contest, but my tentative assessment is that this child was robbed, I tell you. Robbed.

The winner in the animal category was this zucchini dog:

He's nice, but I continue to have my doubts about the judging. The potato pup came in third. His spots are oatmeal!

Vegetable train was also rather good:

First place in Vehicles was something that I assume looked a lot better at the time of judging. (I think exhibits were entered this past Saturday.)

This potato family was first in People, I think.

I took a picture of this one because I do not fully understand it:

Spider-beet in the back is kind of neat, though.

Here's another angle each on Potato Pup and Pepper Sheep:

Over in the grown-ups exhibits, I always like looking at Homemaker Of The Year:

They have to do sewing, baking, canning, flower growing & arranging, and a category of their choice from the arts & crafts division. They usually do some sort of a theme to tie the items together; I guess this year's winner picked "purple."

And here's the year's Best-in-show quilt:

It's a jellyfish! (They put plastic up over the textile exhibits so people don't spill snow-cones on them and stuff; you can still see them pretty well in person, but it's not great for taking pictures.)

Here's a really intricate crocheted...tablecloth, I guess? Big doily? Anyway, it's neat!

Another one that's fun to look at is the Artistic Arrangements in the houseplants and flowers section. Fairy gardens were big this year. Here's a fairies' tea party, in a teapot!

This was the winner:

The county extension office had a butterfly exhibit:

And then I didn't take many pictures of the animal exhibits, but here's Mr. Hopps!

He won a ribbon for being such a good French Lop.

Extreme nose closeup!

And then this is Hector, the Demonstration Bunny:

He is very soft, and his human friend was spinning yarn from his fur!

Anyway those are my pictures from the fair. I also had a cheesesteak and bought some raffle tickets; if I win anything I will report back!

[vennilavee]

i. Poseidon's Cove

blood & pearls masterlist

summary: the warmth of the sun on your bare skin is a treasure.

word count: 1.2k

It’s unfamiliar to you, the way the shores of this lake speak to the creatures of the sea. Usually, you can understand the push and pull, the give and take of the currents. No matter how calm or angry they are.

But here, it is stagnant. Stagnant and steady, as if nothing moves. As if nothing grows- time passes, but nothing comes of it. The moon never gives way to the sun here, but you would never be able to tell. Green is painted in broad strokes beyond the borders of the lake, framed with flowers in colors that you’ve never seen before. Not in the sea at least.

In the sea. You aren’t supposed to be here, anyway. In this foreign land where you’ve been forbidden to venture to. You are meant to be a shining, shimmering pearl, a beacon, in the ocean. Only stationed to be a gate between fickle waters. The visage of salvation. An oasis to anyone who might pass.

Or a curse.

The push and pull of the water is your home, but you wish to get lost in the clouds.

It wasn’t like you intended to stay out here, where the sky seems to touch the water, for almost four full days. Your lungs fill up with fresh air, expelling any ounce of water from your body as you breathe.

The sun is too warm on your skin to let go of it. You feel as though you might perish if you don’t feel its warmth glazed over your bare arms and chest. Just five more minutes, and you’ll head back into the water. Where you belong.

Just five more minutes…

But time doesn’t pass here, and five minutes becomes hours, days, perhaps a week or two.

A giant boulder the size of two ships sits in the middle of this pond that is deep enough to be a lake. What else are you meant to do besides make a home of it? Water brushes up against the jagged edges of your rock with each breath you take. The water sparkles in the sun, a stark contrast to the murky blue that you were born into.

But its depth whispers menacingly to you, like an unwanted friend. You shouldn’t be here, but you twist your fingers sharply to shut out the noise.

It is quiet again, only the sound of the sun and the whistle of the wind to keep you company. You make a tiny home for yourself at the pond as well, bringing some of your favorite glittery spiraled and coned shells with you to the grassy shoreline. Some even sit on the boulder in the middle of the pond- it’s very clear that someone has been living here. Even if it’s not supposed to be you.

The sun dips into the horizon, painting the sky in purples and oranges, in hues that have never existed before your tender eyes. Nighttime is hazy from underwater and you never want to forget the sight of the stars for as long as you live. You lay in the grass and point upwards, as if you could simply just catch one with the wave of your wrist. 

It glistens and glows above the water and you finally see clearly.

A pirate once told you that she caught a piece of stardust with her own two hands. You wonder if this is what she meant. The stars burn brightly, tiny flames lighting up the expanse of the universe. Of the darkness.

But nothing is as dark as the deep, blue sea.

Moonlight drips over your arms and your legs as you glide around the pond, ensuring that you have no trespassers in your newly found but temporary home. It’s warm, but in a different way than the sunlight. You are a child of the moon, it is home. But your heart yearns for the sun.

You’ve lost track for how long you’ve been at this pond. Time doesn’t exist here, but you’ve witnessed exactly one full moon cycle. Staying here sounds more and more tempting by the day- you are in no rush to return back to the depths of the cold, blue sea. Into the arms of those who do not cherish your existence.

So you stay, with your feet buried deep into the dewy grass with the moon hanging high above your head. Your eyes are closed as you inhale and exhale with the rise and fall of the water.

Electricity crackles in the air.

The fairies tittering around your head suddenly zip away into hiding with no warning. You look around, asking them where they are going. Despite you laying claim to this enchanted pond, it was not yours to claim. 

A colossal shadow stands in between you and your view of the moon. Is it your vision? Are you seeing things? 

But the shadow moves closer and closer to you. You have never encountered a shadow which walks on the green Earth. Perhaps you should be afraid, and take off like the fairies did. Instead, you remain anchored in the grass. This is your sea, anyway.

The slight tremble in your hands gives nothing away.

Shadows do not have eyes, but this one stares back at you with four of them. Deep shades of red, blinking at you warily. There is no anger in this shadow’s gaze. Only mild irritation. You are a minor inconvenience to the shadow. It cuts through the night, somehow illuminating the stillness of the darkness with nothing but a simple movement.

You crane your head to look up. This is a man. No, perhaps a god.

An aggravated scoff leaves your lips.

“Do not roll your eyes at me, girl,” the shadow says with displeasure clear in his voice.  There is a hint of a roar in his tone, but his voice is quiet. You get the feeling that this is a thing that does not raise his voice very often. Because he is used to being listened to.

You’ve encountered many men, many creatures who do not listen enough.

“This water is mine,” you say with disdain, your fangs glinting in the moonlight, “You will not take it from me.”

“Do you know where you are, girl?” he says, coming out of the shadows. He is tall, perhaps taller than any creature you have come across. Resisting the urge to take a step back, you hold your ground and sink into the earth beneath you. You can feel the blooming of the seeds beneath the soil as you glare back at what can only be described as a red-eyed, pink haired demon.

Burgundy eyes meet yours, flashing black for a moment. “I’ve allowed you to stay in my domain for over a full month now-”

“Your domain?”

“I should kill you where you stand and pry your beating heart from your chest,” he hisses at you, fangs bared. Your hair glimmers and your dark eyes are hazy, as if you are underwater. 

“That’s rather grotesque,” you state plainly, “The entire ocean would come for you if you dared to even touch me.”

“Your pathetic father is no match for Ryomen Sukuna,” he says and that is when you notice the fresh blood smeared on his expansive chest.

“Oh? Is that a name that I am meant to know? To revere?” you tilt your head to the side curiously, lips curling in a mocking smile.

“You will come to fear me, you foolish girl,” Ryomen Sukuna murmurs, “You will.”

He vanishes into the darkness as quickly as he came, and you are left with nothing but thoughts of the four-armed creature who visited your lake in the middle of the night.

tags: @kentobean @misslovingpearl @aeanya @mystikalini @helenas-revenge

[dippiin-dops]

Lately

Where Bruno wishes Narancia could've enjoyed a better life

Something short I wrote at about 1.755 words. I don't know how well platonic things like this do here, but someone might like it at least 👍👍

(Apologies if you're seeing this twice, I had to reupload because I deleted the original by mistake when I tried fixing a reblog </3)

From his point on the balcony, as the wind swept though him and through his hair, the people below moved like he were watching a movie. From where he stood at the top, he could see everyone; he could see the small group of kids running in zigzagged lines like petals pulled along the wind, and the couple trailing behind them, and he could see that the couple’s matching rings glittered beneath the sun. And, with his head in his hands, Bruno could see how peaceful they all looked.

A little ways off, in the park, a high-school-aged boy sat on a picnic bench reading a book. A much younger boy from the playground ran to greet him, carrying a flower plucked from the public garden. The older boy laughed, and said something, and the younger boy shook his head then ran quickly back to the flowerbed he plucked the flower from and left it there again.

A girl in similar age to the older boy leans on a separate picnic table, hesitating to sit, and looks around the park. She holds an ice cream cone in her hand, but neglects it, and the green scoop at the top begins to drip onto her blouse.

Days like these, where the smell of the sea hangs over towns around the coast like a fatherly embrace, were the hardest days of Summer. Nostalgia and melancholy would poison the air like a gas, and infect all of Bruno's foods with memories of his mother’s cooking. His father cooked too, eventually, but it never tasted the same-- though, even the meals his mother offered on Christmas days never tasted the same as it did before.

The sea remained with the same scent, at least. And kids that weren’t him and have yet to grow into him enjoyed it all the same without him. The sea didn’t poison everyone. Days like these weren’t hard on everyone.

A black car skitters across the open road, but falls to a stop soon after passing the balcony and backs up a moment later. Then, with similar motions of a twitching bug succumbing to a death, it aligns itself in stuttering motions against the curb. Another boy, another high-school-aged boy, opens the black door and sets foot onto the street. He doesn’t close the door behind him when he gets out. His head swivels in surveillance of his surroundings. He looks, then, and nods at Bruno on the balcony.

When Bruno got down to the street, the boy was still standing outside the car. He said; “Mista and Abbachio are with the guy right now. He’s not really the gangster-type, so Abbachio says he’ll probably spill before you get there.”

Narancia’s headband was skewed to the left today, and pushed further down his forehead then usual. Fugo would adjust it most mornings, but the mission from yesterday carried onto the next day and Fugo didn’t have the chance to see Narancia like normal.

“Bucciarati?”

“That’s good. I’ll ride back there with you.”

Narancia nods.

The two of them enter into the car; it hardly waits for a second to settle before sputtering down the road again at the full brunt of the speed limit.

Bruno had paid for the boy’s driver’s training a year and some months ago when he'd just turned sixteen, but Narancia maintained a tendency to push the limits of the law he was taught; it wouldn’t be too much longer until the buildings and clouds and occasional greenery would be reduced to blurry blobs of colors outside of Bruno’s window.

“Narancia...”

Suppose, though… those laws he were taught way back when, how do they differ so much from the laws Bruno would have the boy break with any given order?

“Yes, Bucciarati?” Narancia looks quickly to his passenger side.

“...No, never mind. Ignore me.”

The car hums and bumps against the rough road. As he predicted, the summer’s day scenery melts into abstract figures and hues before it dissolves altogether into blue and gray streaks at the empty freeway. Bruno rolls down his window-- just enough to let some air in –and stares out the sliver there made.

“...Say, Bucciarati, I could be just misunderstanding, but… are you okay?” Narancia nervously adjusts in his seat and the car jostles from his foot moving across the gas pedal. “You seem kind of distracted. But maybe I don’t know. I dunno.”

Something so odd was in his nervousness. No, he was never really the anxious kind of kid, nor the type to be so careful about things like emotion. Even when Bruno met him as the trembling orphan, struck by disease and ridden by abandonment, he declared his fragile future with all the resolution of a politician announcing their campaign. As if it was something to be proud of.

But it was true enough that there was something odd in the way Bruno was acting-- he recognized it too, that odd sense of melancholy nostalgia and, perhaps, guilt that’s so unusual to him.

“Do you ever wish you took a different path?”

“…In what?” Narancia looked something maybe a little bit more then nervous now.

“Do you wish you never joined Passione?”

Narancia’s grip on the steering wheel visibly tightens; his knuckles turned white from the pressure. His voice stayed firm, also, like it did the first time he spoke about joining Bruno. He said; “Never.. not once. It was the best thing I’ve ever done. But… I don’t really understand. Are you mad about that again?”

Those first few minutes when Narancia joined, Bruno really was mad. He was mad before he even knew what the kid was doing there, sitting at Libeccio next to Fugo-- like he just knew, somehow. But when he saw that Passione badge, tiny piece of gray lint stuck to the pin, he grabbed Narancia’s arm and dragged him out to the back of the restaurant. Bruno yelled by the trash cans for minutes, saying things he can’t precisely recall now about mistakes and stupid decisions.

Narancia just stood there for all of it, waiting for a chance to speak. When he got it, he said Polpol gave him a stand, and he’s just as capable as anyone else is now. He called out his stand like it was something that’d make Bruno happy, but seeing Aerosmith for the first time was the worst memory of that day-- it was a grave for the future Bruno had hoped for Narancia. It was like seeing a corpse of a loved one at a morgue. You’d hate to say it, but you know that face; you know that loved one is dead. So it doesn’t really matter if you say it.

Bruno calmed down, and walked back inside with his newest subordinate. He introduced him properly to Fugo, although they had already spoken together. Bruno never really verbally brought up the situation again.

“I’m not mad anymore. You’ve made your decision and are just as much of a mafioso as anyone else here.” Really, that was all there is to it. He knew that. Narancia was his subordinate now, and complaining won’t change it. “I’m… no, I’m just curious, is all.”

“...I never once regretted it.”

Maybe faster then he could realize what he was doing, Bruno spoke again; “I wished, when I took you to the hospital after we met… I wanted you to enjoy the rest of your childhood. You were so small then, but I was relieved by how strong you were anyways. You should’ve been able to spend nice days like this at the park, Narancia.”

The air from the crack in the window has made its stay obvious in the car; cooler, most namely, but adjoined with that familiar smell.

“I tried hard… really hard, to do what you told me then. Like I always do. I really mean it.” His voice might’ve trembled in saying so, but the white noise of the car made it hard to tell. “I just couldn’t… I didn’t… my own father, even…”

A silence hung over the car again for longer then it was welcome. It was Bruno’s own hesitance, his own turn to speak, but he was appalled by the effect of his own words that would make Narancia relive a decision he’s already made so long ago. He had no right to question it in the first place, and even less of a right to admonish it as such without so much as a careful thought.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate of me to say.” His eyes were closed and his voice settled weird in his throat. “I don’t have any right to speak to you in that way as your superior.”

The car went on for a little ways more but it got there to the empty warehouse in the time it normally takes to get there. When the car was parked, Narancia said; “I guess that maybe means you see it differently… but, I know this was the best life I could’ve possibly had. I see you, kind of like... a he-- hmm... well, you mean more to me then just about anyone I knew before. You and Fugo and Abbachio and Mista. Maybe you think I still deserve more, but I’m the happiest I’ve ever been helping you.”

“I know that, Narancia. I don’t doubt it. That reason should’ve been good enough; I shouldn’t have said anything.”

The car turned off and Narancia stepped out into the entrance of the warehouse.

In a moment, less then a minute but more then a few seconds, Bruno will follow and they’ll meet up with the group and head up to inside the warehouse and, speaking around a probably bloodied body, they’ll talk about intel and risks and plans. The inside will be dark, because the lights don’t work there anymore and there’s only a few candles. It’s better that it’s darker, so there’s never anymore then a few candles.

It’s not good to beat a man senseless and scar him in all ways for life, but an order is an order and the man is a talkative witness to things he shouldn’t have seen. They’ll make sure his wife and son won’t be, and if it all works out everyone’s lives will continue. It sucks, but no one can change circumstance. Getting the best outcome is all anyone could hope for.

Bruno steps out of the car, and nears to the entrance of the warehouse. Narancia is just a little bit in front of him now, so that Bruno can see; when Narancia arrives arm’s reach within Fugo, pale hands go up to adjust an orange headband.

[cochineal-leviat]

Marquis Fluff reference The Midnight Soirée chapter 1 to 5

It's Fluff's turn!

Kirby 1-2

A warning for spoilers for the Midnight Soirée. Please go read that first if you're interested in the story. Please enjoy

Back reference without Fluff's long hair.

Colour Pallete:

All Fluff's colours are saturated, and compared to Kirby, who uses all colours - Fluff only uses the CMYK colour palette except the green for the leaves. (Cyan, magenta, yellow and key colour. The key colour is usually black or brown, with the latter fitting in here. And well, the cyan is more blue, but I ended up using it for Fluff's eyeshadow.) CMYK is known as print colours and are subtractive, which means the more colour you add, the darker it becomes. The opposite is RGB colours, which are additive colours. The more colour you add, the closer it becomes to white, with white being every colour. RGB is used in electronic displays like TVs, phones and computer screens, and eye cones are also RGB. Though very rarely, people are born with four cones rather than three. Animals like the mantis shrimp have sixteen colour receptors and can see in more colours than we do. 

Clothes:

From top to bottom: we have his wooden crown. In my extra trivia chapter from the Midnight Soirée, I explained how all fae royalty wear flower crowns when they marry and afterwards. But since Fluff is a bachelor, he does not wear a flower crown. So, he dons a crown of wood instead. A few small branches grow from it, resembling horns, as Fluff's true form has four horns. 

All the gems on his person are diamond-shaped. This is because the shape of a diamond represents perfection, which is also why I used the diamond pattern on his jacket. Although with the shading, the diamonds look like triangles, considered half or incomplete perfection. They also resemble cushions, which refers to Patchland being made from arts and crafts. 

The jacket of a concerto maestro with their long tailcoats inspired Fluff's overcoat. Fluff's coattails resemble broken clipped dragonfly wings; the top half is missing, and Fluff's pouldrons are very prince-like. Kirby never thought Fluff was a prince because his crown was humble compared to the royalty Kirby knew. Duke Dedede wears a singlet, which is normal for Dreamland Nobility. A passage in Chapter 1 explains this as crowns are passed down the aristocracy family tree from the head of the family to the next heir. 

Before designing the characters, I had already visualised the starlight tights, which fit well with Kirby's starry night cape. They resemble Lapiz Lazuli, which are some magnificent stones. They have these golden flecks in them and crushed are called Ultramarine, which is a very vibrant dark blue powder. It was believed that wearing lapis lazuli warded off bad spirits, and in Ancient Egypt, they crushed the stone to wear the powder as eyeshadow. 

Fluff's shoes are styled like flowers/vines that wrap around the foot and legs like boots but have the appearance of high heels. It is both elegant and intimidating. A fun detail is that they, from the front, resemble hooves from a bovine. Which is not the correct animal, but hell, why not? It is one of the few drafts I kept from the first sketch because it fits well. 

Without the sash. Marquis Fluff gave his sash to Kirby in chapter 2

Close up from face. I had a lot of fun designing the makeup for Fluff in this AU.

Fluff's glamour is constructed out of many things. However, as a fae, Fluff has no hair shine as a human like Kirby does. Neither do Fae have eyelights. You can see it best in this close-up. The only light that reflects back is on Fluff's clothes or gems. This is why the only light is at the bottom of Fluff's hair, as it is a gradient. This is because the fae use an illusion to hide their true yet ever-changing eldritch forms. So Fluff's eyes and hair are fake, so his skin and really everything about him. It is all magic, which is why, throughout the night, he changes appearances so rapidly and why his expressions can go from warm to cold/deadly so quickly. He mimics human expressions and mannerisms while filling the rest with fae manners. The fae are an adaptive species that outwardly change like nature as nature, even if we don't see it, is constantly adapting for survival. 

As for why Fluff decided to adapt to his form - who knows? Partly, it is to resemble the portrait that hangs in the real world in the debilitated mansion's foyer.

(remember this bad boy? Yeah, it's old but I still love the colours)

All the features that have been added or changed are meant to lure Kirby in. Fae are said to tempt people with their magical beauty and, in some instances, transform to fit the human's preferences. In some myths, it is even said when someone casts their eyes on a fae they have already lost as they are that beautiful.

Fluff took something Kirby was familiar with and was already bewitched by. Or perhaps the portrait is magical of itself and was the first part of the curse. Who knows.

Chapter 3 & Beginning

Fluff with his hair done up and a few other things. Fluff looks more elegant/handsome with his pair-up. It might be because I've been staring at Fluff's reference model with his hair down, so putting up his hair is refreshing.

Fluff was sure at this point that he and Kirby would be together as husbands, so he felt more free to express himself and put more thought into his appearance. The diamond skin from Chapter 3 to Chapter 5 is not part of his makeup, as that was his glamour starting to slip. Luckily for him, it was something that could be considered beautiful. Although the lights can look creepy in the dark as they are essentially glowing freckles. The pointed ears are also from his glamour weakening but he does not feel ashamed to hide them since Kirby knows he is Fae. Fluff's first appearance was meant to attract and yet hide his true nature so here he is much more open. 

Also, diamond earrings = symbolise perfection. Fluff looks a lot more sheep-like with his nose. 

Midpoint Chapter 4 and 5

Here, Fluff is without his maestro jacket - seemingly vulnerable as he wanted to be left alone. Despite his obvious otherness, he seems more down to earth in his upset state. We also see his shirt and hands without his blue coat/gloves covering them, so that's neat. I had a lot of fun designing the ruffled shirt. I wanted to ensure it was not a stale design when I eventually disregarded the jacket for Fluff's angry/hurt role in those two chapters. 

Oh yeah, Fluff is pissed, alright. Well, he is more hurt, but he gets to be angry too. Even if he understood deep down, it was a misunderstanding. He was so close to one's goal, and finding someone who he could love and loves suddenly reject him stung. As did Kirby returning after they rejected him. Fluff did away with all the makeup and jewellery. Even his crown of wood/thorns is gone. His hair is messy, and his eyes and cheeks are covered in cracks. Yeah, Fluff does not care anymore how he is perceived in that moment. Still, he holds onto his glamour just a little longer for sentimentally. Because as hurt as he is, he did enjoy his time spent with Kirby. He also stopped glamouring his natural red peepers, and from this point, he never hides them behind the yellow lenses he conjured from the beginning of the night. They have horizontal pupils like sheep do. 

The pin in his bun is a button. 

Thank you very much for looking at my art & reading. I hope you have a wonderful day or night further! Happy spooky month (*^▽^*)

[cindersnows]

ava sticktober prompt 1: sticks flowers

YEAH i know day one is sticks but i couldn't muster up the energy to draw every single stick or even just every member of the cg. my bad

i did however grab the opportunity to draw a scene from the new chapter of my fic where blue gives purple flowers though so there's that. i will also post the actual chapter and pretend it's for sticktober here

(below cut)

That evening, when Purple was escorted back to his room, his mind was filled with questions.

Why did Duke Green and Baron Rowan forgive him so easily? Was there any deeper meaning to what the Duke had said, or was he really just giving Purple advice? People didn't normally just- give random tips to their opponent, not unless they wanted to lose. Was this a Hollowic Empire custom?

There was the issue of the mission the King had given him too— steal the Craft Gemstone. Three days after arrival, and the prince hadn't even looked into the possible location of the gemstone.

For a moment, Purple felt irritated; Why would they brother task them something so difficult? There were theives and mercenaries all across the country that could do this job a million times better, especially considering the fact that basically everyone in the empire would have their eyes on Purple. They weren't even good at fighting! Why them?

Fucking hell.

They flopped onto their bed, groaning. This was way too much for them to deal with tonight. They'd much rather just sleep and not have to deal with any of this. Maybe if things went right, they wouldn't have to wake up.

___________________

He slept through the whole night.

If he dreamed, he couldn't remember it, save for the lingering feeling of sadness that he often woke up with.

He would've rolled over and closed his eyes again, a futile effort to sleep for a bit longer, but the sunlight streaming through the curtains told him there was no point.

Purple took a deep breath, savoring his last moments in the comfort of his bed, before swiftly sitting up to get ready for the day. He drearily threw the sheets off himself and stood up, straightening his nightdress. The servants had already taken out his clothes for the day, as per his request, so that was one thing out of the way.

Getting ready took around an hour and a half—- the prince had only worn the barest of clothes: a simple white shirt, jacket and a pair of trousers. He didn't intend to do much today, head still swarming with emotions from the duel the previous day. He didn't quite want to address that.

Often, when he didn't feel like dealing with the pressures of socializing and high society, he would withdraw to his room for days at a time, focusing solely on his work to the point he forgot to eat and drink. It was unhealthy, he knew, but it helped him wind down.

This was one of those times. And since Purple couldn't exactly work while in a foreign city, he'd have to settle for reading books instead.

“Kombu, please get someone to bring me a few books on history and mythology,” He called out, not bothering to open the door.

Kombu Cone was the knight that the King had sent to protect Purple during the trip. They hadn't spoken much, but the knight seemed content to obey his orders with any conversation, and Purple was more than happy to do the same.

A small grunt of confirmation sounded from outside the door. After what felt like forever, a servant scurried into the room, holding a small pile of books.

“These are the librarian's recommendations; Please let us know if there are any specific books you would like to read,” the servant said. Purple nodded at her, and she quickly exited the room with a bow.

He grabbed the first book off the pile, inspecting the cover. 'The history of Dojo Duel Tournaments', the title read.

Purple hummed, running his finger down the side of the book. Dueling Tournaments were a large part of culture across the world, but they weren't very important in the Nether Kingdom. Back home, the warriors prided themselves more on battle strategies and war tactics rather than competitive fighting, and the books in the Royal Palace's library reflected this.

This was the first time Purple had picked up a book on the subject, but it never hurt to learn more about other cultures. He flipped open the book and began to read.

A few days passed like this; Purple would spend the whole day at his desk or in his bed reading, only taking breaks to sleep, eat, and bathe.

Occasionally, he heard muttering outside — Hollowic servants questioning the knights and servants that had accompanied him about whether it was normal for the prince to stay in his room for this long.

He didn't bother to pay much attention to those conversations.

Instead, he preferred to dive deeper into his books, living out the stories. That was what he loved about reading. It was like travelling to different time periods and countries, all within the safety of his room. This especially rang true with history and mythology, the latter often serving to entertain him with ridiculous stories attempting to explain the various natural phenomenons of their world.

Plus, it was fun to pick out the themes found throughout the various mythologies. Ancient Hollowic mythology seemed to place a lot of emphasis on tragedies and redemption, for example. This was a stark contrast to the stories Purple had been raised with, all detailing tales of war and over-convoluted revenge. He cringed, recalling the one where two groups of people played hot potato with a magical staff in an ongoing battle for weeks. Clearly, the writers of that one weren't sure how to create effective tension.

_____________

A knock sounded at the prince's door, breaking their focus.

Shit, they'd just been getting to the most interesting part. They opened their mouth, preparing to just order whoever it was to leave, when the person spoke.

“Your highness, a letter has arrived from the King of the Nether Kingdom.”

Oh, shit!

“Bring it in!” Purple called out, voice slightly pitched. They'd forgotten about their brother and the mission entirely, too engrossed in reading. Was the King upset that he'd yet to send a letter detailing what he'd done?

The door opened with a click, and the servant scurried in, dropping the letter on the desk and leaving the room.

Purple got up from their bed, making their way over to the desk. They moved to pick up the letter, before pausing.

Did he really want to deal with another one of the King's thinly veiled scoldings, ranting in formal language about how Purple had 'disappointed him' and 'wasn't doing the one job he'd asked' and all that crap? Even though a small part of him felt guilty thinking of his brother in such a negative light, he still felt a little resentful.

They dropped their hand, shaking their head. Nope! Not now. If the King got impatient, they could just blame it on the distance. For now, they would do something else.

'What to do, what to do...'

They could just continue reading... but honestly, they'd lost the mood now.

Maybe a walk would help.

The prince threw open the door, walking straight out and down the hallway, only to bump right into Second.

“Purple, what a surprise to see you here!” He exclaimed, raising an hand to his mouth as if to emphasize his shock. Purple raised a brow, tilting them head to see all four of Second's friends looking at them with varying levels of interest— and not a hint of surprise.

“Really, what a surprise for you to bump into me just a few meters down the hall from the room I reside in,” They drawled. They didn't fail to notice the way Blue frowned, likely because of how they weren't playing along with... whatever this was supposed to be.

”Yes, yes, so shocking!” Second agreed, wow the boy was bad at acting. “But anyways, since we've happened upon each other, would you like to accompany my friends and I to the Imperial Gardens?”

Purple replied without hesitation, “Of course,” because what were they supposed to do, say no to the Imperial Prince who also happened to be their host?

Second nodded, apparently satisfied with his answer, and beckoned to follow him. “This way, then!”

The six of them started off on their walk towards the gardens in silence. Unsure what else to do, Purple decided to observe Second's noble friends ('noble' was a stretch— Baron Rowan was among the lowest of ranks, and Blue and Yellow didn't seem to have any titles at all. Honestly, they seemed less like his friends and more like the prince's band of servants).

Duke Green was, as always, dressed handsomely for the occasion. If someone were to ask Purple, they'd say he was overdressed, but he did not voice this thought out loud. They were probably on bad enough terms already.

Yellow and Blue were whispering to each other, just like they'd been the day before. If Purple strained his ears, he could hear them chuckle every few minutes. The pair were obviously close. He couldn't help but find this odd, considering all he'd heard about Blue was that she and Baron Rowan were very close friends. But again, he supposed people could have multiple best friends.

They reached the gardens relatively quickly, and gods, it was beautiful.

Purple had been to many castles, mansions and palaces before. Never had he seen a garden of such scale— not even his own palace's gardens compared.

The place was like a canvas littered with splotches of color, each bush covered in healthy, vibrant flowers. From lilies to columbines to daffodils, the garden was bursting with radiant hues that made Purple's jaw drop.

“Hey,” Someone called out, and it took Purple a moment to realise that Blue was talking to him. Leaf was stood near a row of brilliant indigo flowers, gesturing for Purple to come over. The prince obliged, stepping carefully as to ensure he didn't crush any plants.

“Blue. Hello.” Purple greeted with as graceful a tone as he could muster. He had a tendency to come off as irritated even when he wasn't, so he had to go the extra length to make sure no one was put off by him.

“Prince Aster, look at these,” Blue said proudly, motioning to the flowers. “These were the first flowers I grew in the Imperial Palace. They're called bluebells.”

Purple blinked in surprise, eyebrows raising a little. He knew they were bluebells, of course—- what surprised him was the first thing Blue had said. “You're one of the royal gardeners?” He questioned.

Blue fiddled with her hands, shaking leafs head. “Not officially, no, but I will be soon! Chosen allowed me to plant some things because I was learning, and also because I'm cool as fuck-" Leaf struck a dramatic pose to emphasize his point, and Purple had to hold back a giggle, "Once I turn 18, I will officially be appointed as one of the royal gardeners."

"That's wonderful,” Purple smiled.

The pair lapsed into silence for a bit. He had to salvage this— he didn't want any of Second's friends to dislike him, or else Second himself might start to avoid him.

Purple fumbled for something to say, “Did you know that certain flowers can have special meanings? Orchids, for example, are used to symbolize elegance, gracefulness and beauty. They remind me of my mother. It's fitting that she was named after them.”

Purple paused, realising Blue had gone completely silent. Had he spoken a little too much, or said something out of line-? Maybe it was condescending to talk to Blue as if they knew more about flowers than leaf, or maybe-

"Do you have any other flowers that remind you of people?" Blue asked, breaking the pause.

…They wanted to hear more? That was a first. Well, Purple wasn't about to turn down the opportunity to discuss something they liked.

Even then, they didn't quite know how to answer the question. He tended to assign flowers to most interesting people that he met, even if he'd only met them once. It was like second nature— Clematis for the viscount he'd met at the reception, Cattails for Kombu who seemed invisible and yet was always nearby, and for his brother…

"Well, I don't think about it particularly much." He responded. "But if you'd like to hear about any specific flower- or person- I wouldn't mind telling you."

"What flower would you associate with Second?" Blue asked, so quickly that it caught Purple off-guard.

"Well, the Imperial Prince…" He was naive, for one. Despite being the crown prince of the Empire, he likely didn't do much other than hold the title. He seemed carefree in a way, unbothered by the expectations of the citizens of the Empire, nobles and commoners alike. When he smiled, it was like the sun itself had emerged to greet you. And no matter how many mistakes Purple made, or how much they offended him and his friends, Second was always willing to help them and give them another chance.

"Crocus. They symbolize youth, and cheerfulness."

Blue nodded, smiling. "What about Green, and Red?"

"Red?" Purple tilted his head.

"Oh, Baron Rowan Redmond— we call her Red for short."

Purple chuckled. "You and your friends really like color nicknames, don't you? You're like a whole rainbow."

"Yep!" Blue agreed, popping the p. "Yellow's full name isn't even close to the word Yellow, honestly. We just chose it so he'd fit in. Their actual name is Beryl Fairman."

"As in, Marquis Beryl Fairman?" Purple blurted out, surprised. So Yellow hadn't just been some servant or low-rank noble, but a Marquis from one of the more well-known families of the Hollowic Empire. How had he not noticed?

"Yes. She doesn't really like all the fanfare, though. She prefers to just tell people her nickname instead." Purple nodded, understanding. From what he'd read up on the House of Fairman, they were well-respected within the Empire, both for their intelligence and their beauty. Many of the heirs and heiresses of the family ended up betrothed to one of the members of the royal family.

Did that mean Yellow and Second were engaged, then?

Purple frowned a little at the idea. He didn't know why, but it left a sour taste in his mouth.

"As for your earlier question, I'd say that Duke Green resembles an Amaryllis. It symbolizes pride. Baron Rowan would be an Iris— humble, and wise."

Blue barked out a laugh. "HA! Wise? Oink's far from wise, I tell ya. She is humble, you got that right, but the only thing she actually knows anything about is animals. She'd take a brawl over a book any day."

"So… more like a Geranium, then," Purple decided. "It means strength, and good friendship, but certain variants can also refer to… a lower intelligence."

"You can just call moo stupid, you know," Blue joked. "What about Yellow? Wait, no, what flower would you assign me?"

"For Yellow, I would say a rosemary." Purple didn't know much about Yellow, so that was mostly a guess. The marquis was likely intelligent too, so a flower to connotate wisdom would do, but that was about as much as he could figure out. "Blue, I'd say you remind me of a Jasmine Flower. Cheerful and amiable."

Blue's face lit up so bright, Purple thought for a moment that he was looking at a star. "Really? Thank you!"

He shook his head, cheeks heating up a little. "It's nothing, really. I'm just saying what I see."

"Well, it's still a compliment, so I'll take it all the same." Blue smiled. "You know, you're really smart, your highness. I've never met someone as knowledgeable about flowers as you."

Purple shrugged lightly. "Most people in high society know about these things. I'm not very special in that regard. We use flowers to send messages all the time. Like bluebells, for example," He touched one of the bluebells next to the pair, "are used to say 'I forgive you'."

Blue suddenly sat straight up, and Purple flinched back a little, surprised by the sudden motion.

"Is something wrong, Blue?"

"No. But watch this," He smiled, plucking off several bluebells and quickly weaving them together— oh, a flower crown! After about a minute, he finished the crown, and held it out to Purple.

Blue giving Purple a flower crown made from bluebells.

"Here! 'I forgive you'. You know, for the thing you said about me and Red at the reception." Purple looked down at the crown, a little dumbstruck, and then laughed softly.

"Thank you, Blue." He said earnestly, taking the flower crown and placing it upon his head.

Blue waved him off. "You're welcome." After a moment of quiet, she added, "You seem very nice, your highness. I'm sure the others would want to be friends with you. I know I definitely do." Blue pointed out.

Purple didn't respond, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Blue seemed to understand his hesitation. "You don't have to be our friend if you don't want to. But a rainbow isn't really complete without purple."

[adobe-outdesign]

So what's your thoughts on the newly revealed DLC 'mons?

(I've done the other DLC 'mons already, so I'll be tackling the Teal Mask 'mons here. Like the Terapagos review, this is being written before the DLC and thus my opinions might change a bit with future context.)

All of the 'mons from this DLC seem to be based on the Momotarō legend, which is about a child born from a peach who teams up with a talking dog, pheasant and monkey to fight some oni (or ogres). While Ogerpon's name suggests it's based off the oni in the myth, it also appears to be the peach itself, or possibly representative of Momotarō himself—note the stem on the head, the leaf-like shapes on the body, and the sandal-like leaves on the feet.

While we don't know what its face looks like quite yet, we can see a bit of it in this artwork; it appears to have black on the outside of its face to match its legs, large eyes with eyelashes, and spikes around its face along with a pair of "ears" at the top.

Visually, I do like the mask; the crystalline accents are cool and the overall design of it, from the leaf shapes to the expression and crescent chin, all look pretty neat. The brown draws attention to the face without being distracting, and the whole concept is pretty unique.

What I'm not sure about is the anatomy. The hand and arm holding the mask in the second artwork looks weird and formless, and it's a bit hard to figure out what's going on with the leaves around the head as well. The two symbols on the body also feel extraneous; the circle is barely visible and the flower-like shape seems like it wants to parallel the shape of the mask but doesn't quite manage it. Regardless, this is a pretty interesting 'mon.

Okidogi (side note: love the names for these guys) is okay enough. I like the expression and general threatening look, though obviously this more anthropomorphic approach might not appeal to everybody. The patterning is interesting, and the eye scars matching the "scarf" are a nice touch.

However, its big problem is the colors. I don't know why they picked these as we don't know its typing yet, but honestly, they're downright ugly. The green and the black are almost the same brightness, resulting in the colors looking muddy. Meanwhile, the magenta accents don't even remotely go with the green. I get that the magenta.... thing is on all three of these guys and they didn't want it to share an accent color, but why not do something less clash-y, like a yellow or red (which would also keep it from sharing colors with Ogerpon)? And if you gotta go green, at least go with a bright lime green or something less muddy.

Munkidori at least has a significantly better palette than Okidogi, but it still suffers from some strange stylization and proportions. Look at those weird little pointy angular fingers, or the way the entire body is just a shapeless cone. I don't know if I mind it, per say; something about the expression and personality are pretty fun, and the headband placement being accented by the magenta on the "socks" is nice. It just really doesn't fit visually with the other two is all.

Speaking of not fitting visually, Fezandipiti is again stylistically different than the other two; it's much more realistic in terms of the animal it's based off of, and it looks the most like a Pokemon in that respect.

And, in general, I think it's the best designed of the three. The brown accents are pleasant and go well with the shared magenta and black; the yellow on the head is a bit add when that could've just been more brown, but it's otherwise solid.

I also like how the body looks like a kimono of sorts, with the magenta things forming the sash and the white markings forming a neckline. It's subtle enough to be there but not feel forced or un-animalistic. There are some other interesting details in there too, such as the forked tail (which matches the eye wattles, which in turn likely reference the wattles on male common pheasants) and the shape of the beak and feet. Overall, this one's pretty nice.

As a whole, this group is okay. The Momotarō theme is obvious and works well, but the visual styles are all over the place despite the attempts at forming shared visual elements between the main three. The actual designs are also a mixed bag—Ogerpon and Fezandipiti are strong, Munkidori is relatively bland outside of its strange stylization, and Okidogi has a terrible palette that screws up an otherwise okay design. A mixed bag, but an interesting one none-the-less.