#look at the Leafs - they have added so many people in the back half that a team mental coach would have barely said hello to them

[saucylittlesmile]

Too bad JF is habs partner 🙈

Well since they’re not even in the playoffs, I guess he’s not a miracle worker, lol.

[leemillion]

Theory Time!

Alright so I have an abundance of theories for The World of Mr Plant so I’m just gonna spill them all here. Maybe I’ll even update it as more theories arise, who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

~Mr. Plant always loved Argos~

Now call me crazy but I think Mr. Plant always had a thing for Argos. He just didn’t fully realize/come to terms with it until the valentines episode. And even then he struggled to express emotions at first, but he’s been getting better at that.

Now adding on we all know Mr. Plant won’t hesitate to kill any minor inconvenience that comes his way. And Argos supposedly annoyed him to hell and back. So why didn’t he kill Argos? Sure he thought about it, but he never actually went through with it. It makes no sense to kill a random stranger just for a job but then leave someone you supposedly hate alive, but that’s just me:

Maybe he mistook his feelings for Argos as anger or tried to deny it by rationalizing it in some weird way. I mean it doesn’t seem like he has any relationship experience. Maybe this is his first time feeling these things and that’s why he was so hesitant and confused.

~Why Mr. Plant joined the scouts~

Now I find this one pretty wholesome. Mr. Plant doesn’t like kids at all so Argos being apart of the scouts was something he actively discouraged. Yet by the end of the episode he chose to join them 😌

Now I have 2 reasons for this. It could either be one of them or a mixture of both of them.

Reason #1 - After the incident with the “human” he thought “oh shit I get to kill people and murder people holy shit-“ and decided hey it can’t be that bad

Reason #2 - After the incident with the “human” he realized Argos and the scouts might need someone to protect them so he decided to join to keep them safe.

I think I like the second reason it’s so fucking wholesome. Argos and Mr. Plant have 3 unofficially adopted children now 😌

(One more thing that’s not important to the theory but I didn’t know where else to put it: On the phone Mr. Plant immediately ran over the second Argos mentioned he was “right across the way” Do you think Mr. Plant knew about the creep that lived there??? That he knew about him kidnapping and doing who knows what with kids?? And once he heard Argos was over there he was like “oh fuck no not my Argos 🔪” That’s so cute wtf 😭)

~Mr. Plant’s other half~

So we all know Mr. Plant is half banana leaf. But what about the rest of him? I’ve seen many theories of him being part walker plant, imitation plant, and even human. And I think imitation plant might make the most sense (I still like to think a small part of him is a walker though)

I mean in Gardening with Argos, Argos refers to some of his plants as his “favorite flower.” We all know Mr. Plant is obviously his favorite 🙄

Unless… Mr. Plant isn’t considered a flower at all?

Now this could be a stretch. Maybe there’s 2 types of plants. Those that are considered people and those that are considered just plants. But who knows.

~The mushrooms found Argos creepy~

This might not be so much of a theory as it is an observation.

At first when I watched this episode I thought “tf they mean creepy? He’s like the most normal guy here” And then I realized Argos looks the most normal to the viewers but not the other characters.

Every other character either has an object head, an animal head, a plant head, a body part head, and of course the “humans” with their uncanny ass proportions. Argos isn’t the most human looking thing in their world. In fact there isn’t anyone else in the void who looks like him.

Maybe that’s why he’s always seen as “weird” or “creepy.” Plus we never know much about his family. Just his great great grandfather banana leaf. Maybe his family is some rare species.

Holy shit what if they’re hunted for sport and that’s what those “accidental deaths” were??? Maybe not. Maybe I’m going insane.

~It’s been a long long time~

So I found this comment on a TikTok video:

I did the math and they’re correct. And if Argos is around the same age as Ashur is (23) then he’s been in this specific void since he was about 5 years old. He’s been marking up the days since he was old enough to write.

Meanwhile Mr. Plant moved in almost 2 years ago.

Argos was part of the welcoming committee then right?? I like to think he fell in love the minute he saw Mr. Plant 😌

So what’s next for them? Who knows but I’m rooting for lore in the next episode. Andddd I think that’s about it for theories for now, or at least until I suddenly come up with another. See you all next time :D

[setoangel01-fanfiction]

Reassemble

Homecoming - Chapter 5 (Previous Chapters)

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Pairing: Zack Fair x Aerith Gainsborough (Zerith)

Rated: T

.....

Chapter Summary: While setting up his bed for the foreseeable future, Zack and Aerith finally have a chance to air out some dirty laundry.

.......

The room, while filled with the sounds of the cleaning, the sink running, soft clank of metal cutlery on ceramic dishes and the occasional splash as Elmyra scrubbed them clean, the two women remained uncharacteristically silent.

Which was odd considering the mother and daughter duo were usually filling the air with easy light-hearted chatter at this time of day.

Stories from Elmyra's occasional afternoons in the doctor's clinic helping patients or something peculiar that occurred during grocery shopping would be told. Afterwards, Aerith would regale her mom with tales of all the interesting people she'd encounter during her flower selling topside at Loveless Avenue or funny mishaps and misadventures of the adorable (and quite cheeky) children at the Leaf House.

Typically a fun bonding moment between them as the lights above the plate dimmed and the city of Midgar quieted down for the evening ahead. A reassuring habit that formed naturally over the years, easing them into a comfortable sense of familiarity to finish off the day before retiring for bed to start it all over again tomorrow. This was usually their time to simply be together and share stories and relax in the familial presence while they cleaned up the after dinner mess…but tonight was drastically different.

The silence dragged on with the events from this particular evening playing on loop in the stifling quiet atmosphere.

Haunted by the absent, yet somehow not, glassy look in Cloud's unnaturally bright half-lidded gaze as well as the forced smile constantly plastered on Zack's face while his expressive eyes remained darkened by unseen shadows both adding to the cacophony of anxiety that surrounded them.

Yet, mostly, it was Zack's words that hovered over the suspenseful atmosphere most.

Footnotes of an untold story dredged in more violence and terror neither of the women could possibly begin to fully comprehend. A torment that Zack and Cloud were forced to endure these past five years while the world went on around (and without) them. A story dredged in betrayal, grief, pain and misery they somehow survived yet Zack was not fully willing to disclose even as it obviously ate him up inside until he was a hollow shell of his exuberant former self.

All of his inner agony masked behind his easy (yet painfully broken) smile, yet all the hurt he endured was physically etched into the new faint scars across the tapestry of his tanned skin. White, thin scars that were a bit too precise to be from any battle with human or fiend, all these tells combined with new age lines at the corners of his lips and dark shadows bruising heavily underneath agitated blue eyes showcased more than words ever could.

Neither Aerith nor Elmyra could imagine just how drastically their lives would have shifted since they had cleaned up after breakfast this morning…

Who knew cleaning two sets of extra plates, cutlery and glasses could change so much?

Aerith found herself processing the bits and pieces of Zack's story from the little he told her here and earlier at the church. While she wanted desperately to know more, seeing the exhaustion weighing her dark-haired SOLDIER down kept her lips sealed tight. She would never push him but if she didn't know what was exactly wrong, she felt as if she couldn't help and not knowing how to ease his pain was suffocating.

For so many years she desperately waited, wanting nothing more than to see Zack again. Praying and wishing for the day he'd walk back into her life, to see him push through those heavy church doors and wrapped back into her arms where he belonged.

…And he did.

Yet the Zack that came back to her was so inexplicably broken in a way she couldn't understand, and while she couldn't be happier to have him here with her, Aerith didn't know how she could help him.

...And that was killing her.

Almost on autopilot, Aerith finished placing all the leftovers in separate tupperware and placed them in neat stacks in the fridge. Once done, she brushed by her mom to access the lower cabinet drawers to grab a dry cloth in order to help with the dishes when she felt her mom's hip nudge her own.

The Flower Girl jolted from the sudden contact, "Yeah?" Aerith asked, clearing her throat when her voice broke slightly at the single word.

Elmyra's face was neutral even if her eyes were red-rimmed and troubled. It appears Aerith wasn't the only one struggling with everything that happened tonight. Her mom's yellow gloved hands still submerged in the sudsy water and mindlessly washing another pot as she turned to Aerith and flashed her a painfully gentle smile.

"It'll all be okay, honey. We're going to do everything we can to help them. I promise." Elmyra stated firmly, spoken with an assurance as if she was trying to convince both her daughter as well as herself.

A half sigh, half sob she quickly stifled left Aerith's throat as she bent down to finally retrieve a towel. Pursing her lips as she carefully grabbed a wet dish on the rack and began drying it with a bit too much gusto before replying, "I know we will… It's just…" her words trailed off in uncertainty before she finished with a simple, "Thanks, mom."

Aerith had only dried three dishes before Elmyra's hands suddenly went still in the water.

Glancing over, she noticed her mom's lips were set in a firm purse and she was staring out over the darkened garden through the window behind the sink. A distant look in her eyes told Aerith that her mind was focused elsewhere outside the monotony of chores.

"Mom?" Aerith asked.

Elmyra glanced over at her for a moment before replying, "I just remembered something. There's only one twin bed in the guest bedroom, isn't there?"

The Flower Girl's eyebrows furrowed at the sudden chance in atmosphere and the question itself, "…Yes." she answered anyway.

A sudden soft chuckle laced the older woman's lips as she flashed Aerith a coy expression, "Well, you don't want your boyfriend sleeping on the cold hard floor do you?"

Aerith's cheeks went scarlet before Elmyra shook her head with a bemused smile, "No. I mean, there's that rolled up mattress in your closet he can use." she clarified, giving her daughter a look before continuing, "I could finish up down here. Why don't you go help Zackary set that up before he ends up passing out on the floor?"

"I-I could help you finish up here first."

Elmyra's lips curled into a patient yet exasperated expression, "Just go, honey. Don't let Zackary have a terrible nights sleep just so you can help me dry the dishes." The smile slipped from her mom's lips for a moment, "That boy has been through enough today; he deserves a good night's rest, don't you think?"

Aerith nodded, fighting the burning behind her eyes at the warmth of her mother's smile and the unspoken words of acceptance. "Thank you, mom."

"You're welcome, my flower. Now get going before he falls asleep on the floor. If memory serves me right, I distinctly remember that boy easily falling asleep sitting up at the dinner table a few years ago so don't give him the chance to sleep uncomfortably now," Elmyra bumped her hip against her daughter's once more before turning back to the dishes she'd been neglecting. There was a tiredness in her mom's eyes but the small smile upon her lips was genuine; blonde and grey bun bobbing gently as she continued her work at the sink.

Smiling so big it hurt her cheeks, Aerith quickly gave her mom a side hug before she left the room. Her happy, light footsteps soon leading through the dining room than up the staircase before fading out of hearing range.

When all was silent in the kitchen once again, Elmyra smiled softly to herself.

Yeah, it would all be alright.

Aerith brushed the slight dampness from her palms on her dress as she approached the guest room. She was worried that Zack may have already fallen asleep but as she got closer, Aerith heard Zack's muffled voice speaking in a low gentle tone that thankfully indicated he was still awake.

Gathering up her nerve, Aerith took a calming breath, lifted her hand and knocked twice on the door.

Before she could even fully draw her hand away, Zack had opened the door and was standing in front of her. Bright curious blue eyes and an easy smile on his face that didn't quite mask the utter exhaustion in his gait and the purple bruises under his bottom lashes.

Aerith opened her mouth to speak yet a sudden shyness washed over her out of nowhere as he stood so tall and handsome, and he smelt so good…

Probably sensing her discomfort, Zack broke the ice. "Hey," he uttered softly.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Aerith asked, face burning slightly as she had trouble meeting his eyes. Dammit! She wasn't that shy teenager Zack knew all those years ago yet his presence was bringing that side of her back it seemed.

"I, uh, just finished putting Cloud to bed…" Zack gestured lazily to the blonde lying on the only bed in the room; blonde Chocobo-like tresses poking out amidst the pile of soft blankets and pillows. It really was so incredibly sweet and admirable how well Zack was taking care of his Mako-poisoned friend. How rare of a friend Zack was to go so far for those he held dear.

Aerith smiled at how Zack had taken the time to even tuck Cloud in the bedding, "That's good. I'm glad he's finally getting some rest."

"Yeah, me too. He was out as soon as his head hit the pillows," Zack chuckled, "I was actually about to turn in myself. So… uh, what's up? I-Is everything alright?"

Clearing her throat and steeling her resolve, Aerith smiled up at him, "Everything's fine but I really hope you weren't planning on sleeping on the floor," she stated coyly, ignoring the intense blush most likely staining the apples of her cheeks as she stared up at him. Had he always been this tall?

Zack's response was immediate with wide eyes and coral staining his cheeks, "Well, kinda, yeah."

Aerith flashed him a thunderous expression complete with an irked pout.

"What?" Zack floundered, nervously scratching the back of his head, "It's a twin bed and I'm over six feet tall! It would be cramped even if it was just me! Let alone sharing with Cloud. That kid is a damn blanket hog I'll have you know!"

Seeing Zack's animated expressions brought a sudden warmth to her chest she hadn't felt in awhile. Sure, he may be quieter and more reserved than the Zack that left all those years ago, but his boyish charm was still as evident as ever.

Feeling she tormented him enough, Aerith giggled and smiled sweetly. "I actually have a different solution for that. There's a thick folded mat in my room that you can use. I would have brought it out to you but I have trouble moving that dresser in the closet, so I need a strong SOLDIER to help me get it out."

A flash of something dark passed over Zack's expression, but before she could decipher the meaning, Zack's smile brightened "Really?" he replied, "Damn, that would be great. I'd appreciate it."

"No problem." Aerith replied before stalling near the door where he flashed her a curious look. In a sudden moment of bravery, Aerith reached out to gently grasp his much larger hand in her own. The electricity that shivered along her arm at the mere touch of their skin meeting had her quickly turning her face away from his bewildered expression so he didn't see how her cheeks positively burned at the simple contact. "Come on, it's right in here."

It was a short trip, mere yards away, but feeling his warm hand in hers calmed the frantic beating of her heart and the rise of panic she'd felt whenever he left her side. A sudden, inexplicable anxiety that rose in her chest, that if he merely left her sight, he would simply disappear forever…

Zack didn't seem to mind the contact whatsoever. He seemed to relish in the touch, his hand eagerly grasped her own; easily intertwining their fingers as he followed her to her bedroom which was past the bathroom and down the hall. A room he hadn't been inside for five years and the mere thought of that made Aerith's tummy flip dangerously.

Opening her bedroom door with her free hand, the Flower Girl hid her nervousness to lead him inside the dimly lit bedroom. After flicking on the light, Aerith gently tugged at his hand to lead him into the center of her bedroom before she exclaimed with grand gesture of her arm, "Welcome back to Casa del Aerith!"

Zack chuckled at that, a sound that caused a shiver that echoed from where their hands were still clasped together straight down to her toes.

"Nice. Looks pretty much how I remember…" he commented softly in remembrance. Mako bright eyes looking around at the space they used to spend so much time together all those years ago. It almost felt like a different lifetime but Aerith wouldn't change anything about it for the world.

Not allowing him to reminisce on their past too long, Aerith gently pulled at their clasped hands to bring him back to the present and towards her closet.

Zack followed faithfully at her heels as they approached and once by the door, he reluctantly released her hand as she pointed toward the rolled-up gray mattress leaning against the wall in the back of the closet. Zack smiled sweetly before he gently broke away from her, "So, that's the one?"

"Yep," she nodded, moving slightly out of the way as Zack worked to move the heavy dresser in her storage closet to the side.

With his back turned toward her, Aerith finally let out a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. Hands folded as if in prayer against her chest yet she still couldn't fully relax. Feeling nervous over his presence and hating it because Zack had just returned to her and instead of overwhelming giddiness, she just felt downright shy now.

Being around him made her feel like she was 16 years old all over again…

"...Hey. I uh, I wanted to say it earlier, but... um, I'm sorry," Zack's sudden voice came to her closer than she was expecting.

Aerith jumped slightly, seeing that while he had already pulled aside the heavy wooden desk with ease and was moving a few smaller pieces of wooden paneling to safely reach the mattress while she'd been staring out into space and lost in her own damn head.

Zack's words finally dawned on her a second later and she asked in genuine bewilderment, "…For what?"

The black-haired SOLDIER's cheeks were flushed as he looked down at his bare feet before clarifying, "…For earlier, ya know," he scratched the back of his head again, the cute nervous habit still remaining after all this time, "After I got out of the shower…" his voice trailed off and Aerith was happy he wasn't looking at her to see how red her cheeks got at the sudden reminder of that.

Seems she wasn't the only one still thinking about that...

Biting her lip, she responded, "Why would you be sorry?" she let out a soft laugh, "I was the one who barged in! If anyone should apologize for that, it should be me."

"Nah. I'm a SOLDIER - well, ex-SOLDIER. Point is, I should have better reflexes than that poor attempt at catching the clothes you threw at my face or at the very least, I should have bothered to lock the damn door," he explained. The shy smile and coral staining his cheeks as well as the tips of his ears eased the dull tightness and anxiety in her chest.

Zack always had that effect on her…she was so happy that never changed.

"It's okay. I'm sorry about throwing them by the way! I shouldn't have, I was just…" Aerith let out a breath, a nervous giggle escaping before she continued, "You surprised me is all. I should have knocked." Aerith bit her lip before glancing up at him through thick lashes, "And besides, it's nothing I haven't seen before, right?"

"Right," Zack chuckled softly, the sound warm and rich and his body heat so close had her shivering as he finally removed the folded up mattress from the closet. He placed the bundle on the ground where it stayed leaning up against the wall before Zack closed the small distance between them. The intimacy of his mere presence had her finally feel brave enough to look up into his perfect face and gorgeous blue eyes she'd missed so damn much.

"...But, it has been five years. That's a long time. Truthfully, I didn't even know if you'd still want to be with me, let alone being naked in front of you that soon - even if it was an accident," he laughed thickly, his fingertips brushing against her arm in a shy caress that had her entire body tingle from the sensation. "I'm sorry, Aerith…" the apology sounded like it was for everything left unsaid, none of which were the one thing he was actually verbally apologizing for.

The five year gap between them felt smaller than ever right now, like suddenly, no time had passed between them at all.

Aerith's heart thundered against her sternum when she felt him begin to pull away. His nervousness evident in his flushed cheeks and faltering gaze and she wanted it to abolish it completely so she prolonged the contact by reaching out to grasp at his retreating hand.

"Don't be," she whispered brokenly, squeezing his hand tightly. Her eyes boring into his own to showcase and push away at least some of the burdens on his shoulders. Wanting nothing more than to absolve him of what he believed were faults of his own when he was innocent in the circumstances that lead to all the years they'd lost between them. She wanted nothing more than to help him heal...

Zack peered back into her eyes. The weight he was carrying was immense; a strain and burden perched heavily on his shoulders yet they dropped slightly as he seen the forgiveness, acceptance and hopefully the unconditional love she still carried for him showcased in her meadow green eyes.

It must have, for the sigh that left his lips sounded so relieved, "...Thank you, Aerith. For everything…"

Aerith smiled up at him; eyes never leaving his own as she squeezed his hand tightly before pressing them both to her fiercely pounding heart. "Thank you, Zack, for coming back to me…"

Zack chuckled, a shy sweet smirk on his lips as he peered down at her. For a long time, he remained silent before he stated, "Hey, I was right ya know…"

Green eyed widened at the sudden words, the last Cetra flushing red to the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes when she realized how close his face had gotten to hers. His warmth and scent surrounding her like a drug induced haze. Aerith flashed him a teasing smile to hopefully cover up her sudden bashfulness, "I don't know if I believe that, " she giggled, "What are you supposedly right about?"

Instead of a verbal answer, Zack pulled one of his hands away from her before he brushed it teasingly along the flare of her hip. Large fingers ever so gently pinching the fabric of her dress as he gave it a soft tug to pull her even closer where she could feel the warmth of his skin even through all the layers of clothes as well as his soft breath caressing her face.

"That you look absolutely stunning in pink," he gave her one of those smiles that never failed to make her heart soar. Aerith happily took the hint and slipped in closer, their chests lightly brushing from the proximity.

"Well, you told me to wear it next time I saw you… I wanted to keep that promise - just like you kept yours," Aerith said so tenderly, gazing deeply into Zack's eyes - the most wonderful shade of blue like a perfect cloudless sky…

Yet before she could drown in the color too long or even had a chance to glance at his lips, she watched Zack suddenly pull away. His eyes suddenly closed tight, hiding a large yawn behind the hand he'd pressed to cradle his face before shaking his head when it was over.

A moment passed before the SOLDIER gave her apologetic smile. It was only now she'd forced herself to look at the thick dark bags under his eyes and knew Zack needed his rest and she'd been keeping him away from that.

There was always tomorrow to continue this conversation after all...

Cheeks flushing in embarrassment at not realizing it sooner, Aerith grabbed his hand and stated, "Come on. Let's set up your bed, you must be so exhausted!"

"Yeah, I am," Zack admitted with a boyish nervous blush staining his cheeks. Like herself, he seemed reluctant to pull away from her side yet he did. Turning his back to her, he began to place the large furniture he'd removed back into the closet. While Zack was preoccupied, Aerith took the time to gather some extra linens, thick blanket and a pillow from the chest near her bed. Turning back to him, he was standing patiently by the door with the rolled up mattress in his arms.

The couple silently left her bedroom back towards the guest room.

Afterwards, it was a rather quick process to set up his bed, making sure to do it quietly as to not disturb the slumbering blonde on the bed. Aerith knelt down to finish smoothing out the sheets, she peered up at Zack who was stifling yet another yawn behind his hand. Biting back a huff, Aerith laid out the blanket and fluffed the pillow. She was angry at herself for not realizing how obviously exhausted Zack had been the whole time, his seemingly endless energy quickly waning.

"There, that should do it," Aerith announced quietly, a slight bounce in her step as she stood back up to take in the bed he'd be sleeping for the foreseeable future. She'd have to ask her mom about looking into getting an actual one soon…

Zack stretched his arms above his head before they dangled like limp noodles by his side, he looked ready to fall asleep standing up. "Thank you so much, Aerith. I really appreciate everything you and your mom are doing. I really can't thank you enough."

Aerith brushed it off with a soft wave of her hand, "It's no trouble at all. Promise." she reassured him, reaching out to rub at his tense thickly muscled shoulders.

Zack looked as if he wanted to say more but instead just whispered, "You're the best."

"Yeah, I know," she teased, patting his shoulders before reluctantly pulling away to head back to the doorway to exit the room. "Now get some sleep, alright?"

"Sounds good…" his blue eyes peered at her. Zack hesitated for only a second before he closed the distance between them. Once in front of her, he slowly reached out to gently cup her face in his large warm hands, his thumb brushing a tender stroke on the apple of her cheek. After the slightest big of hesitation, he leaned down to place a ghost of a kiss where his thumb just vacated. Yet before she could respond or register the action fully, he pulled away. "Goodnight, Aerith," he whispered, the smile curling his lips was so painfully tender and soft.

The place where his fingers and mouth brushed burned heavily; her cheeks stained with blush yet a shy smile easily accentuated her lips, "...Goodnight, Zack." she replied in a breathy whisper before he gently closed the door behind him.

[casualjacobwrites]

FFXIV Write 2024 Prompt #3 - Tempest

Continued from Prompt #2.

More specific spoilers for patches 5.4 and 6.0 in this one. Didn't make the deadline on this one, but fortunately the deadlines don't start until September 8. Also, these are unedited and rushed (which is the idea!) so there's likely some mistakes, grammatical and otherwise.

Reminder: I'm taking on the added challenge of trying to weave the prompts into a continuous story rather than separate little entries. I probably will write other things during this month, but the idea for bringing Emmanellain and Sicard together amid a huge crisis is, for right now, really making my brain happy. If it works, I'll edit it all and make it a proper story.

Word Count: 1,537

__

Sicard lowered the spyglass with a curse then shouted, "All hands on deck!"

The collected crew rejoined with a collective "Aye aye," and ran off in separate directions. The Roegadyn woman who'd reassured Honoroit earlier began pulling at a large canvas cover to reveal one of the cannons aboard the ship. The lalafell man climbed the mast with surprising nimbleness for one of his diminutive stature. He managed to reach the crow's nest within half a minute and set up with a spyglass aimed in the direction of the smoke. A moment later a bell sounded, the rapid clanging loud enough to rouse anyone from the deepest sleep. A slender elezen man with deeply tanned skin repeated the captain's call for all hands on deck.

"Lafotal, the moment you see anythin' you tell me," Sicard shouted to crow's nest.

"Aye, captain!"

"Wastgeim, get the cannons prepped, an' don't be stingy with the powder this time."

The roegadyn woman paused in her work long enough to give a quick salute. "Aye, captain!"

"Cannons? I-is that really necessary?" Emmanellain followed Sicard back to the helm so closely the hyur swore he could feel the lordling's breath on his neck.

"Don't know yet," he said, his eyes locked toward the bow. "But I'd rather have 'em ready and not need 'em than to have a hole blown in my ship."

"The ship is on fire. They need help, not weapons."

Sicard inhaled sharply while grinding his teeth. Even in the middle of a crisis he manages to find a way to vex me. Out loud he asked, "And how does a ship catch fire?" He gestured in the direction of the distressed vessel.

"I-I don't know," Emmanellain stammered. "An accident?"

"Could be," Sicard allowed. "But could also be they were attacked by another ship we can't see waitin' to ambush and rob us. Worse, it might be someone set it up to lure in unsuspectin' crews so they can kill everyone on board and take our ship for their own. So forgive me for thinkin' about protectin' ourselves first."

"That's ludicrous! Who on earth would set their own ship on fire in the middle of the ocean as a trap?"

For a long moment Sicard was too stunned to respond. When he regained his ability to speak, his words came out in a roar. "Pirates, you bloody imbecile!" A throbbing pain shot through his temple and he knew his face must be red. " There's no trick in the book too low down or dirty for anyone greedy enough to try, an' I should know. I used to be a pirate."

Emmanellain stared at him, his mouth twisting in horror. "Did…did you ever hurt people like that?"

Sicard started to say, "Of course I did," but when he noticed the way the other man looked at him, his speech failed. Emmanellain had of course known he was a pirate, but this was the first time he'd been forced to consider what that meant and it had repulsed him.

Never before in his life had Sicard been so consumed by shame and guilt. Sure, he had turned over a new leaf after running afoul of the Warrior of Light and the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. He and his crew had provided vital aid during the End of Days and for the first time he could say they had made a positive difference in the world. Yet, in the back of his mind he carried the reminder of his past misdeeds and the knowledge he could never truly atone for the many terrible things he had done. Each day since his duel with Admiral Bloefhiswyn he'd dealt with a constant swirling undercurrent of regret, but now it was turning into a raging tempest of sorrow and self hatred. To know Emmanellain de Fortemps thought lesser of him as a man cut far deeper than he wanted to admit.

"This is hardly the time or place to discuss that," he snarled. So what if some Ishgardian noble thought he was a monster? What did the spoiled second son of House Fortemps know about his life? No one who lived in luxury could ever understand why he made the choices he did. "I've got a job to do. You and Honoroit need to get belowdecks 'til I give the all clear."

"No."

Sicard swore his neck muscles creaked as he slowly turned his head toward Emmanellain. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I want to help." His reply was earnest and spoken as if it was the most natural thing.

"Did you miss the part where I said we might be headin' into a trap?" He shook his head. "No offense, mate, but you have neither the stomach nor the skill for fightin', an' if this all goes to pot I can't be worried about you gettin' a splinter."

"I'll have you know fought in the Dragonsong War alongside the Warrior of Light!" Emmanellain's voice grew higher in pitch, an obvious sign of his wounded pride.

Sicard slammed his hand against the wheel and whirled to face the elezen. He leaned in until their faces were mere ilms apart and growled, "Get your arse belowdecks 'fore I kick it down there for you."

Just as Emmanellain's mouth opened to respond, another voice interrupted. "I got the supplies, my lord." Amid all the chaos and arguing Sicard hadn't noticed Honoroit had slipped away. The manservant stepped onto the quarterdeck carrying a large leather sack.

"What in the hells is that?"

"Apothecary supplies," Emmanellain replied. "Potions, poultices, bandages, and anything one might need in an emergency."

The smug grin on his face was doing little to keep Sicard's urge to deck him at bay. "An' what am I supposed to do with that?"

"You said it yourself. You don't know what might happen when we get to that ship, but regardless of if we're rendering aid or drawn into battle, you're going to need healing." He waited for Honoroit to set the bag on the ground then crouched down to rifle through its contents. After pulling out a selection of vials, he slipped them into slots in his belt and stood. "I'm no conjurer, but I am trained in basic field medicine and can still help."

"No, no, too dangerous." Sicard refused to budge. The thought of Emmanellain being injured or worse filled him with an odd sort of anxiety. He ignored the little voice inside him that said his worry had nothing to do with the potential loss of profit from their new business venture. "Both of you should stay below."

"Now see here--"

Honoroit raised his voice to interrupt his master. "If I might make a suggestion, Master Spence?"

Sicard scrubbed a hand over his face. It was bad enough to deal with the lordling's thick skull, but the younger elezen was too clever by half. "What? An' keep in mind we don't have much time."

The manservant nodded. "What my lord said about his experience in the Dragonsong War is true."

"Thank you," Emmanellain cut in.

"Yes, my lord is quite adept at keeping himself safe in battle to the point where he has never needed to draw his sword."

"Yes, that's ri--hey!"

Honoroit ignored Emmanellain's protests. "But he has seen a variety of injuries both on and off the field and knows which medicines to use. I myself have studied a bit of alchemy and anatomy, and I'm quick on my feet."

Sicard considered the page and rubbed his chin. "What you're sayin' is he knows how to avoid a fight, an' you'll keep him out of my way?"

The page smiled. "Yes."

The hyur sighed. "Fine, but if either one of you causes a problem for me, I won't hesitate to toss you overboard, profit or not." It was an empty threat, but they didn't need to know that.

"I see flags, captain!" Lafotal called down from the crow's nest.

"What colors?" Sicard asked.

"'Ard to say with the light." The lalafell's silhouette leaned forward with his spyglass firmly attached to his eye. He muttered something unintelligible then shouted, "Garlean, sir." Below him the crew fell silent. Though Eorzea was now allied with what remained of Garlemald, it was hard not to feel some sort of apprehension upon encountering one of their ships at sea. Decades of imperial invasion and oppression couldn't be forgotten or forgiven in such a short time.

"Anything else?" Sicard asked.

"Ship's still aright. No sign of anyone on deck." No one spoke while Lafotal continued reporting. "Smoke, no fire."

"No fire. That's good, right?" Emmanellain asked.

Sicard shook his head. "Just means we don't see the flame. Could be an engine fire." Above him Lafotal was adjusting the focus on his spyglass. Sicard saw him jump backward as if startled.

"There's a body, captain, an' it's not a Garlean."

That was a strange observation to make. There was not enough light nor were they close enough for Lafotal to see a uniform. "How can you tell?"

"Fishback, sir. There's fishbacks on the ship!"

Both Sicard and Emmanellain took a step back then looked at each other. An already strange evening had just become even stranger.

[innytoes]

Hi! How about 5+ headcanons for the Caleb’s harem au?

-anotherfantom

-Any time Alex' parents are shitty about him and his Sinful Lifestyle he sidles up to Caleb like: can I be your date to this fancy event in a really slutty suit. He is usually shy about the whole arm candy thing except when he's fueled by PURE SPITE. They have also gone clubbing, all five of them, after a particularly uncomfortable confrontation in a supermarket where Alex was just trying to buy his boyfriends some damn chocolate chip cookies as a treat.

-Willie is so amused at his three new boyfriends being so in awe of Caleb and delights in ‘poking the bear’ in front of them because they’re like ‘oh no you can’t just... wait you can? You can literally just plop yourself on his lap and demand attention when he’s not in his office? Or ask him to buy you something? Or demand a specific kinky sex act???’

-Reggie is the King Of Grilled Cheeses and is delighted to have money to buy and test out all kinds of new fancy cheese for his grilled cheese repertoire. Caleb comes home one day to the boys all sitting around the island testing grilled cheeses and Reggie shyly offers him the latest one and he’s just like: this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted would you be willing to share the recipe with the chefs at my club.

-The grilled cheese at the club has added gold leaf and costs like a ridiculous amount of money because rich people are Like That and Caleb knows his target audience. Nobody knows the secret ingredient is like the cheapest most plastic cheese known to man.

-When it gets to be even vaguely late spring, Luke is like ‘okay it’s Naked Pool Time now’ and proceeds to just be gloriously naked in the fancy outdoor pool while Alex is still bundled in his hoodie and flannel pyjama pants standing in front of the big glass windows with a hot mug of coffee like: half of me wants to join him and half of me wants to cry because just looking at him makes me cold.

(Willie: the pool is heated.

A good time is had by all.)

-One of the many bathrooms has a bigass hot tub. Reggie learns that Lush bathbombs and hot tubs do not mix. Reggie is very, very apologetic to the person sent to fix the hot tub.

-Caleb may or may not have a plan to destroy the Mercers and Reggie’s parents and the only thing holding him back is that Willie snooped on his computer and gave him a glare like: Do Not, they will be upset if you do. But please do help me talk them into getting therapy they clearly need it. Also Luke.

-One time the heating broke and it was a fight who got to cuddle up to Luke (the human furnace) in bed. Eventually Willie was like: fuck this. And he dragged his mattress downstairs in front of one of the biggest fancy fireplaces, made a fire, piled 17 blankets and his boyfriends on the mattress, and they slept like that. Plus the dog. And the cat. Caleb comes downstairs and is like: what... is this.

-Bobby who has nothing to do with the harem at all like: I’m not judging you for this because you’re my friends and you’re all clearly happy but I’m kind of judging Caleb and Willie for their taste in men.

[jacksonroseroth]

~The Price~Chapter 32~

Moodboard made by @badwolf-in-the-impala none of the pictures are ours

~

After returning to the mansion, Thatcher and Taddie slipped up to his room where Thatcher quickly changed, Taddie cleaning herself up before struggling to find something decent to wear. Finally, Thatcher handed her a Christmas looking leaf print dress and kissed her temple. Her cheeks turned red and she quickly changed into it. After their little escapade in the cabin, her curls had become unruly and she struggled to separate the knot without undoing her curls or ripping her hair. Thatcher stepped up and gently pushed her hands aside before gathering her hair in his hands, carefully undoing her knot before parting it, gathering half up and beckoning for a hair tie. Taddie handed it back to him and bit her lip with a light giggle as he tied her hair back then spun her around to face him.

Thatcher gently tugged a few curls loose and spiraled them down the sides of her face, then cupped his fingers under her chin. Lifting it, he dropped a kiss to her lips, then led her out of the closet and the room, the pair making their way down the hall to the first library he’d taken her to on the first night. Everyone was there, save Thomas, and Thatcher led Taddie along the bookcases, taking her to look out the window by the Christmas tree. He slid his arms around her, nuzzling his nose into her hair as he swayed them from side to side, lightly.

Tora watched the couple walk in, relieved to see Taddie and that she was smiling, seeming to be happier. She excused herself from her husband and made her way over to them, slowing as she started to hear what Thatcher was saying.

“-One more day and I’ll take you back. It’s just Christmas. We have to be there for dinner and the picture. I need to show my face for the families, but after that we can leave. I’ll take you home to Roanoke. We don’t need to stay, ja?”

“Won’t they be mad that you just left? No, I-I’m okay. I just--It’s just Christmas. Just-Just don’t leave me alone, ever. Like a-around the families…Promise me?” Taddie asked, gripping his hands on her hips. He nodded and pressed a kiss to her curls then said, “I promise, kitten. Nothing’s going to happen to you, everyone that’s coming are family or friends of. You’ll be safe.”

Tora cleared her throat lightly, making the pair jump and turn to her. Taddie chewed her lip and tucked herself into Thatcher’s side as Tora said, “It’s very nice of you two to join us--Thatcher, a little more notice is appreciated? Especially when we were worried enough as it is.”

“I’m sorry.” Taddie said, quickly, wincing when she saw Thatcher turn to her, giving her a look. She glanced up at him then chewed her lip as she looked at Tora and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you all worry…I-I kind of thought I-I wouldn’t be missed and I just wanted to be alone for a while.”

“That’s perfectly alright, dear. But, of course you would be missed--You’re the guest this weekend. Are you alright?” Tora asked, reaching out a hand to touch Taddie’s arm.

“Yeah, I-Yes, Ma’am, I-I’m fine. I’m not used to so many people, unless I’m working.” Taddie said, giving the older woman a light smile as Tora gave Taddie’s arm a squeeze.

“That’s quite alright, dear. Just let us know where you’re going. This is a big house, it is easy to get lost.” Tora said, giving her a sympathetic smile before she added, “Did you two eat? They said you took two plates.”

“Yes, Mother, we ate. We’re just here to see the twins. It’s…It’s been a long day.” Thatcher said, casting a look down at Taddie, giving her a squeeze as she glanced up at him with a small smile.

“I wish I was better prepared. I have no gifts for anyone for tomorrow.” Taddie said with a sheepish smile. Tora chuckled and shook her head at her, gently taking her hand and leading Taddie to the table of food as she said, “No, no, it’s quite alright. Especially for the children-Half the presents are for them. They don’t need to be spoiled anymore. Have you tried the cider since you’ve been here? The cooks make it in house, it’s very refreshing.”

“Oh. Um…Traditional cider? Sven’s made me wary of accepting cider before clarifying.” Taddie said with a soft laugh. Tora chuckled and shook her head, rather fondly.

“Ah, Sven. He likes the drink and thinks the world does too. No, it is non-alcoholic.” Tora said, pouring three cups and handing them back as she filled them. Lifting her cup to the couple, Thatcher and Taddie did the same as mother and son said together, “Skål.”

Taddie touched her glass to theirs before sipping on the cider, soon finding it hard to stop as it was so good. Thatcher chuckled and watched her face light up at the first sip, then struggle to pull it away to say, “Oh, m-This is so delicious.”

“Made from apples we have growing in one of our greenhouses. We like to have fresh food year round, but with the Virginia snow-Naturally, greenhouses we’re needed.” Tora said with a chuckle. Taddie nodded and took another, deep swig.

“It’s really good. I love it.” Taddie said, clasping the glass in both hands to stop herself from downing the whole thing.

“I’m glad. Are you still hungry? There’s plenty of desserts.” Tora said, sweeping her hand to indicate the rest of the long table. Taddie eyed it, the chocolate covered strawberries calling her name, but shook her head and said, “I’m not a big sweets person. I have to be in the mood for it, otherwise I’ll randomly get nauseous after a bite. I don’t want to waste food. Thank you, though.”

“Of course. We do this every year, we always have plenty of leftovers. Though everything gets donated the next day, to save it from spoiling. If you’d like the cooks to save anything for you, just let them know.” Tora said, giving Taddie’s cheek a light, gentle pat, then kissed Thatcher’s cheek before moving off to rejoin her husband.

Letting out a soft sigh, Taddie downed the rest of the cider then set the glass down to prevent her from getting more. She turned to Thatcher, who quickly took another sip then set his glass down as well, sliding a hand over her arm as he asked, “You okay? You know you can eat more if you want.”

“Yeah-No, I know. I’m just really not a big sweet person. I mean, the chocolate covered strawberries look good, but I love them too much-I’ll get it everywhere. I told you, I’m a heathen.” Taddie chuckled, softly.

“Which I have yet to see.” Thatcher teased, sliding his arms around her and bringing her closer. “I think my mother likes you.”

“What makes you say that?” Taddie asked, sliding her hands up his chest to dangle off his shoulders.

“She’s not usually too concerned about our women. She knows not to interfere, just lets us handle it…But she seemed real concerned when we couldn’t find you. And then just now, coming to check on you.” Thatcher said with a smile, lifting a hand to trail a few fingers along the side of her face. “My family likes you, kitten. You’ve already impressed them and they’ve accepted you. We’d know by now if they didn’t. There’s no having to talk about the same things as them, there’s no ‘what if that made them think this’. A couple of days in the Price Family is all it really takes. We’ve all learned how to read people quickly.”

Taddie nodded and bit her lip before ducking her head under his chin and laying her head on his chest. She let out a soft sigh and said, “I just want it to stay that way…But the anxiety makes me second guess-Even Ash, sometimes, I think I’ve pissed her off to the point she kicks me out then she acts like nothing ever happened. Moved on…I don’t know why I can’t do that too. I used to…”

“Because you had someone that challenged every single thing you did. You don’t have that anymore. So now, you think it’s still going to happen so you’re just waiting…I need to break that habit. And quick. Cause it kind of pisses me off you think like that…I don’t like what he’s done to you, Taddie.” Thatcher whispered into her curls. She let out a soft chuckle and pulled back to look up at him, trailing her fingers along his jawline, lightly.

“You didn’t know me before. How can you hate what he’s done?” She asked, trying to make it lighthearted and joke about it, but his face remained serious and he furrowed his brows, making her smile fade.

“Because I can still see the spirit fighting to get out. When you think you shoot back quick? That light shines through for a while, then you shut it off because you think you’re doing something wrong. If that’s who you are, kitten, don’t hide that. You’re sarcastic and witty. You’re funny and clever…You’ve forgotten it all because you still think you need to be what he wants you to be. Find yourself again, Princess.” Thatcher said before dropping a kiss to her lips. Before Taddie could respond, the doors burst open and wild screams ripped through the space.

With a small jump, Taddie turned as Tristan and Theo started shouting along, ripping away from Leah and Luna, suddenly going crazy and running around waving their arms in the air. Taddie laughed and Thatcher snickered, leading her over to the couch where the twins were running around. Taddie saw the two dark haired children that ran around the twins, weaving between them as they giggled. Tristan then came to a stop and spun around, scooping up the little boy before continuing to run around, shouting, with the boy dangling over his shoulder. Theo scooped up the little girl, princess style, and chuckled, following his brother around.

“I’m gonna guess those are Lara and Thomas’ kids?” Taddie asked with a soft giggle. Thatcher nodded and chuckled, shaking his head at his brothers.

“Yup. Tris has Finn, Theo’s got Fi. They all definitely share the same brain cells. I swear it’s a twin thing.” Thatcher laughed, looking down at her. Taddie giggled up at him, nodding along before he stole a kiss.

Hearing his laughter, Fiona turned in Theo’s arms then began squirming to get down, shouting, “Uncle Thatch! Uncle Thatch! Finn! Look! Uncle Thatch is home!”

Theo laughed and set Fiona down, the little girl dashing over and running into Thatcher’s legs, wrapping her arms around them. With a loud laugh, Thatcher scooped Fiona up and gave her a quick toss in the air to make her squeal, then caught her and smothered her face in kisses.

“Stop! Stop! Uncle Thatch!” Fiona squealed out in laughter. Taddie giggled, watching him with his niece, and felt a corner of her heart melt more. Thatcher chuckled and kissed her cheek before shifting her to sit her on his hip as he said, “How was France with Grandmêre and Grandpa?”

“Fun! We went up the Eiffel Tower again! Will you come with us next time?” Fiona asked, pouting as she wrapped her small arms around his neck. Thatcher chuckled and gave her a squeeze then kissed her cheek as he said, “I dunno, Fi. We’ll see.”

“Who’s that? Why is she here? She’s not family?” Fiona said, eyeing Taddie, though her eyes lit up when she saw Taddie’s dress. Taddie’s cheeks went red and she gave Fiona a friendly smile.

“Hey. We use manners. What do you say?” Thatcher said, giving her a reprimanding look as she tilted her head back to him. Fiona giggled and hid her face in his neck, briefly, before popping it back out.

“I’m Fiona Price. Who are you? You aren’t family.” Fiona said, making Thatcher sigh in defeat. Taddie let out a soft giggle and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Fiona. I’m not family, but your Uncle Thatcher invited me. Is that okay?”

“Okay. She’s pretty, Uncle. Are you gonna marry her?” Fiona asked with a giggle. Taddie bit her lip as she saw Thatcher’s cheeks turn bright red and he quickly set her down as he said, “You know-I think I see Mamain the corner.”

“Mama!!” Fiona cried as she ran off to find her mother. Thatcher shifted on his feet, watching Finn follow his sister, then let out a deep sigh, glancing at Taddie.

“Sorry. She’s, um, she’s been to weddings before, she’s just excited.” Thatcher said, drawing his brows together, unsure. Taddie shook her head and smiled at him as she said, “No, it’s okay. They’re kids. They’re tiny alcoholics, they just talk and say what they want.”

Thatcher’s brows relaxed as he chuckled, softly, and slid his arm around her waist with a nod. He dropped a kiss to her lips, then another, before he said, “Have I told you yet today that you’re amazing, Princess?”

“Hey! I’m your Princess!” Fiona shouted, stomping her foot as she pouted and crossed her arms. The couple turned, seeing Fiona had come back, this time with Finn in tow. Taddie bit her lip and giggled, looking up at Thatcher with her brows raised, amused. Thatcher chuckled softly, bending down to scoop them both up and spin around until they clung to him and screamed for him to stop. When he did, Fiona’s pout returned as she repeated, “I’m your Princess…”

“You are, Fifi. But Taddie is a different kind of princess. I can have two princesses, right?” Thatcher asked, playfully nibbling at her neck until she squealed and pushed at his face as she laughed, then hugged his neck, pressing her cheek against his.

“Okay…But I was your princess first!” Fiona called, letting out a soft whine.

Taddie giggled and said, “You can be his first Princess, Fiona. That’s okay. As long as I can be his Princess, too?”

“Okay. That means we’re sisters now! All princesses are sisters!” Fiona said, firmly. Taddie laughed and nodded, briefly dipping down in a curtsy as she said, “As you wish, Princess Fiona.”

“I like her. You should marry her.” Fiona giggled, hiding her face in Thatcher’s neck as Finn gagged and wrinkled his nose.

“Nooooo!! He can’t! Then he won’t be home to play with us anymoreeee!” Finn whined, crossing his arms with the same pout his sister held. Thatcher chuckled and shifted Finn in his arms, giving him a quick bounce that made a smile break over his face.

“Awe, come on, Finn. I come home. Every Sunday, bud.” Thatcher said, setting Fiona down as she wiggled around, then ran to Leah and Luna. Taddie watched her with a soft giggle, then turned back to Thatcher and Finn as the little boy said, “Yeah, but that’s not ‘nuff. You said you’d take me to see your music. You haven’t, Uncle Thatch.”

“I know, bud. I know. We’re really busy and we don’t have time for friends to visit. I promise I’ll talk to Papa about him bringing you to the show this week, ja?” Thatcher said, holding up his fist to Finn and giving him a smile. A wide smile broke over Finn’s face and he punched Thatcher’s knuckles as hard as he could, both boys making an explosion sound as they wiggled their fingers and pulled their hands back from each other. Taddie bit her lip and smiled, watching Thatcher as he spoke to Finn in Swedish, then kissed his cheek and set him down as he said, “-Okay, go on. Find your sister.”

“Bye, Pretty Lady!” Finn called, waving at Taddie before he dashed off to climb into Luna’s lap as his sister sat in Leah’s. Taddie blinked, her mouth dropping open in shock, then chuckled as Thatcher laughed and pulled her closer, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other hand sliding over her cheek.

“Alcoholics also tend to tell the truth more often…Even tiny ones.” He cooed at her before sealing his lips to hers in a deep kiss. Taddie kissed him back, giggling softly, before she broke it to say, “Well, Fiona seems to think we’re getting married, soooo-”

“And sometimes it’s just fantasy. No need to read into it like that.” Thatcher said with a teasing smirk, snickering softly. Taddie laughed and shook her head at him, biting her lip as she brushed her nose against his before she whispered, “Take me to bed? Or do you want to stay with your niece and nephew a little longer?”

“I do. But you can go up if you want? I’ll wake you up nicely, I promise…I don’t want you to stay up if you’re tired.” He whispered back, pressing a trail of kisses over her cheek. She giggled and slid her hand over his neck, pushing into the back of his hair as she nuzzled into his cheek.

“Promise? Promise you won’t be too long?” She whispered with a smile. He chuckled and nodded as he straightened to look down at her, cupping her cheek as she said, “Promise, kitten. Go up and get comfortable. It’s okay if you fall asleep.”

Taddie nodded and lifted on her toes for a final kiss before she slowly stepped back from him, then moved around the room, to the door. Thatcher watched her leave with an elated smile, letting out a calm sigh before turning his attention to his niece and nephew, bracing his hands over the back of the couch as he watched them chatter on and on to Luna and Leah about their trip to France. Distracted by his thoughts and the children, Thatcher didn’t see or hear Thomas walk up beside him, not until he felt a hand on his shoulder and he jumped.

“Easy, brother. It’s only me.” Thomas said with an amused smirk as Thatcher sighed. He turned from his brother, turning his attention back to the other couch as Thomas started, “Your girl seems to be doing okay. Aside from the disappearing act earlier-”

“Thomas, I don’t give a fuck what you have to say about her. Keep your comments to yourself unless you have something nice to say. You’re part of the reason she’s anxious. She knows you don’t like her. You made that very clear when you first met her.” Thatcher shot at his older brother, glancing over at him, annoyed.

“I never said I didn’t like her. I just thought you could do better than a bartender. Not exactly a step up from-Alright, calm down.” Thomas said as Thatcher turned on him and took a step closer. Thomas pressed a hand to his chest and pushed him back, giving his little brother a look before he continued, “Anyway, what I was going to say was, I think she’s a good fit for you…You seem…I dunno, different, happier, whatever.”

Thatcher raised a brow at Thomas as he avoided all eye contact and shifted awkwardly on his feet. Letting out a light scoff of disbelief, Thatcher said, “Hold on…Are you actually saying you like her?”

“If that’s what you want to take it as-”

“Tom. For fucking once, brother…” Thatcher said with a sigh. Thomas smirked, his gaze flickering to Thatcher’s before he said, “I may have been quick in my judgement the first time we met…There is a chance I may have been wrong about her.”

“Tom-”

“Papa, look what Auntie Luna got us!” Fiona shrieked from the couch as she and Finn opened their belated birthday presents. Fiona held up a huge box of LOL Surprise dolls while Finn went absolutely feral, dropping the box of brand new race cars along with a track, that he tried to open immediately before Lara snatched it up.

“Finn, calm down, son. You’ll get more tomorrow. Save this for home.” Thomas said, moving from his brother and going to his wife and children with a smile. Thatcher let out a slow breath and watched his brother for a moment, then turned away, toward the table, going to it and scooping up a pre-poured glass of ale, downing half of it.

While Thatcher’s whole scheme was absolutely hare-brained and he’d be the first to admit it, he never thought, in any capacity, that it would actually work. He completely banked on it going horrible and staging a scene that would get his family off his back…Instead he was getting exactly what he’d wanted all his childhood; The approval of his father and his older brother. But, he seemed to also be on his way to getting Taddie, the way things seemed to be going. But with it barely a week into the four she would be spending with him, it slightly unnerved him at how smoothly things were going and absolutely terrified him for what lay ahead for his future with his family, but also with Taddie. 

And that scared him most of all.

~

Let me know what you guys think! <3 If you'd like to be added to the taglist, send me a message! <3

Taglist: @badwolf-in-the-impala @sweetwombatpizza

[iris-qt]

𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜

"Something happens, and I'm head over heels..."

✧ ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ x ʜᴜꜰꜰʟᴇᴘᴜꜰꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✧ ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!, ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

✧ ᴡ/ᴄ: 3.2ᴋ

✧ ᴀ/ɴ: ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀᴍᴀᴢɪɴɢ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ! ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪᴢᴀʀᴅɪɴɢ ᴡᴀʀ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴏᴄᴄᴜʀ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ 7ᴛʜ ʏᴇᴀʀ

✧ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ ꜰᴜᴍʙʟᴇᴅ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴜꜱᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ɪᴛ. ʜɪꜱ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴄᴀʟʟ ɪꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟꜱᴇ.

Sometimes, you have to push yourself out of your comfort zone to get what you want.

And if that means asking for help from your favorite gossip that slightly terrifies you, then so be it.

“Isn’t this just a bit too revealing?” 

You turn towards Pansy, tugging your borrowed mini dress down as she puts her hand on her hips, smiling, adding a finishing touch of maroon gloss onto your lips.

She steps back to admire her work, using her hands to frame you as you mock pose.

“Y/n. You’re a work of art,” she grins, putting on her own earrings. “And most people in art are naked, so just be thankful I didn’t insist on that.”

“You’re so merciful, Queen Pancy,” you fake a bow as she rolls her eyes grabbing your hand.

“Ok, ready? What was the one rule we went over?”

Your demeanor drops at the mere thought of him.

“I know, I know…don’t get distracted by him.”

Pansy sighs, shaking you by the shoulders. “He’s not the fucking Dark Lord, y/n. Say his name.”

You roll your eyes, annoyed at having to discuss the matter in the first place.

“Don’t get distracted by Nott.”

Theodore Nott.

You had to stop, but…

You’d loved him for a while

You’d loved him when he sat next to you on the first train to Hogwarts; picking scabs on his fingers out of nervousness. You’d distracted him with silly stories of your childhood. Of days spent creating little leaf huts for your ducklings and dreaming of adventure in the glades near your home. 

You loved him when you’d leave your table to sit next to him; leaning in close and sharing whispers about neverending topics. When he’d visit your dorm for a quiet night of reading and look around in awe at the cozy blankets and lamps illuminating his self-proclaimed safe space.

To say the least, you were head over heels for this boy. Head over heels for the way his eyes hid emotions if only you were worthy of revealing them. For the longest time, it seemed inevitable that Theodore Nott’s favorite person was y/n. 

Until 6th year, when Nott came back as a new boy. He’d grown what seemed like a foot and his face seemed carved of marble stone, only covered by his locks of dark hair. He was vastly desired and gained a multitude of new friends.

And he left you in the dust.

As Plato once said, "the measure of a man is what he does with power,” and Theodore Nott used that power to skyrocket his social standing until there wasn’t room for you anymore.

This year, however, was your year. The summer spent interning at the ministry had invoked a sense of confidence within you. You were always beautiful, however, you never usually showed it off.

This year, you’d decided to flaunt it.

Well, kind of..

Thank Merlin for Pansy Parkinson, your adoptive parent Slytherin.

You both headed down the stairs from the girl’s dorms, the music blaring and the raucous party already in full swing.

“Just as I planned: fashionably late,” Pansy smirks, leading you to the bar

 Every year, a different house hosts the back to school party, only for 6th and 7th years, although many lower years sneak in. This year, everyone was delighted that it was Slytherin. 

Slytherin was known for many things, and their ability to throw a rager was one of them.

You leaned against the counter, sipping a Negroni and surveying the party. You wanted to let loose and create a new image for yourself? Well, this back to school party was your chance.

Unfortunately, your eyes land on a certain boy, half obscured in the shadows of the outskirts. 

Theodore Nott was leaning against the wall, a wicked grin on his face as he nodded along to some Gryffindor girl’s words. Was it possible he became even more gorgeous over break? He seemed to have procured a perfect tan along with his longer dark locks that curled around his ears, framing his toned face.

It was sickening to look at him. Memories came flooding back of the numerous summers you’d spent with him; reading under a tree or laying under a blanket of stars. Your parents would let him come over for a few weeks, and those would be the highlight of your summer break.

And now, you feel sick to your stomach.

Especially when his eyes began roaming as if sensing you, and then they met yours. Dead eyes gleaming in surprise at the sight of you at a party. 

Theodore Nott knew you well, and he knew you were the type to spend a Friday night reading to your plants or whipping up a midnight snack in the kitchens after hours. He didn’t expect to find you drinking at a party, wearing the most sinful black mini dress that hugged you in all the right places. 

He simply couldn’t pry his eyes away.

You, however, glanced away immediately, feeling his stare a more burning sensation than the gin sliding down your throat. You swallow the rest of your cocktail in one gulp, eyes slightly tearing up at the feeling, and stride away, wanting to get as far as possible from Nott.

You knew you promised Pansy not to let him get to you, but that proved to be impossible. You looked back at Pansy who just realized you had disappeared when suddenly you ran into a figure, gasping as he spilled some drink on you. Looking up, feeling defeated, your eyes meet the hazel ones of a Ravenclaw boy named Roman Vaughn. Captain of the Ravenclaw quidditch team, top of the 7th year Charms class, wealthy, and an overall heart throb with his chocolate brown skin, silky black hair, and hazel eyes. 

He had grabbed your attention before, but you’d never acted on it. What were the odds you’d run into him of all people.

“Y/N! I am so so sorry here, let me find a napkin,” he immediately sprung into action, taking you by the hand and pulling you towards the bar for napkins. He grabbed a handful and began to wipe the drink from your chest, but then he realized he probably shouldn’t be doing that. He jerked away with a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Anddd I keep making this situation worse and worse..”

You laugh, taking the napkins from his hand and dabbing at the stain that wasn’t even visible against the black fabric.

“Good thing it’s black, otherwise you’d be in big trouble, Vaughn,” you raise an eyebrow teasingly as he gives you another laugh.

“I guess luck is on my side tonight,” he smiles, eyes lighting up as if his words had a double meaning.

He asked you to dance, leading you gently to the dance floor after you both downed some drinks. And that's how you spent your night, taking shot after shot of vodka with Roman’s hands on your waist and yours in his hair, swaying to the beat. You noticed Pansy grinning at you while giving you a nod of approval. Her plan had come to fruition.

What you failed to notice in your newfound glee, however, were Theodore Nott’s eyes staring at your figure with a seemingly neutral look on his face. Within was utter turmoil.

He had ceased to pay attention to the Gryffindor girl in front of him, and absentmindedly handed her his drink, finding an empty chair to sit in. 

He was aware he had become power hungry, leaving you behind last year. The truth is, the amount of yearning Theodore felt towards getting his old life with you back was insurmountable. He had felt like he was floating in a beautiful galaxy whenever he’d been with you, sitting amongst scarlett poppies. You made him feel safe with your familiar scent of vanilla and honey, melting all his troubles away. 

Unfortunately, his efforts at getting you back were pushed down.

The trust you had for him seemed to have broken.

He tried once last winter, walking up to ask you if you wanted to stop by his home in Italy for winter break. He’d overheard you already planning a trip to Belgium with your best friends, so he backed off. 

Then, he’d attempted to ask if you wanted to visit the book shop with him on a Hogsmeade trip, but when he had approached you, a random girl came up to flirt with him and you’d walked off, scoffing.

There were a multitude of other failed attempts; each one corroding his confidence more and more. He would never fully give up on you, but as more time passed, the more he felt like you were lost forever. You were a dandelion spreadings its tufts, and there seemed to be only a couple left, clinging on.

Seeing you dancing happily with Roman Vaughn proved to him without a doubt that you had forgotten about him. You have moved on.

He sighs, wondering why he was so caught up with this when they were only ever friends.

Right?

Sure, there had been lingering stares and a hint of adoration in both of their eyes. Maybe a spark of a deeper feeling that they were both too young and stubborn to comprehend. 

He shook his head, drowning himself in more drinks to forget about this night.

To forget about you.

The next day, he was sitting in Charms class right in front of your two best friends. What he heard instantly soured the rest of his day.

“PLEASE, Hannah, you have to come on the Hogsmeade trip. Y/n is going with that Vaughn dude, so I’ll be walking around like a loser,” she pouts.

y/n going with Vaughn??

Theodore had assumed whatever they had going on at the party was just some temporary, drunken fun, but the worst possible outcome from his late night overthinking came true.

Y/n was going on a date with Roman Vaughn.

Theo scoffs to himself. Vaughn. Sounds like a cheapass beer brand.

What could y/n possibly see in him? Sure, he was tall, handsome, smart…ok…

Theo sighs, putting his head down on the table. Mattheo, knowing all about Theo’s current troubles and his undying obsession with y/n, pats him sympathetically.

Theodore understood that this was your decision and your life, so, despite how much he was compelled to, he refused to meddle with your love life. He didn’t want to risk being the one to make you sad. Again..

If this was the cost of his actions, he supposed he deserved it.

The trip to Hogsmeade had arrived, and Theo felt as depressed as ever. He forced himself to roll out of bed and adorned himself in a brown sweater and slacks. His friends wouldn’t let him sulk around in their dorm during a Hogsmeade trip.

He was walking with the Slytherin gang, hands shoved into his pockets. Despite the mantra he kept repeating to himself, telling himself over and over again not to think about you and Vaughn, Theo couldn’t stop. He wondered what you were doing with him. Maybe holding his hand with your slender ones, always a bit of dirt stuck between your nails. You loved being outside and Theodore often felt like the magic of nature failed to reveal itself to him again after he stopped spending time with you. As if its beauty died with your absence. Makes sense. You could make any moment or setting beautiful. He was always happy if you were there.

“What do you think, Nott?” Mattheo elbows him, looking at him expectantly.

“Oh- Uh…what?”

“What’s on your mind that's more interesting than us, mate,” Draco raises an eyebrow.

“We were talking about hitting Zonko’s first,” Mattheo offered, grinning knowingly.

“Yeah, anything’s fine with me.”

When his friends were busy laughing at the steam coming out of their ears from candy samples, Theodore gave in to his intrusive thoughts and decided to sneak out and find you and Vaughn. Just to survey the area, make sure he was treating you right, of course. Theodore would always consider you his closest friend. 

He walked across the leaf-strewn autumn ground and spotted Roman walking into the 3 Broomsticks. You must be waiting for him there. 

He scoffs to himself again.

Of course the asshole made her wait.

He enters the 3 Broomsticks and sees Vaughn taking off his coat and sitting down at a table with his friends. Where was y/n? 

Theo stood there looking confused, wondering what happened to you. Did he ditch you for his friends? 

He walked out of the pub, stepping on crispy-looking leaves, absentmindedly enjoying the crunch.

Where could you have been? Perhaps you realized that you deserved better than Vaughn, but even Theodore knew that was wishful thinking.

He walked down a path leading down to a view of the Shrieking Shack where you and he used to sit and sip warm, spiced butterbeer on these cold autumn days. Often, he feels as if he’d give anything to turn back time. To stop him from letting you leave his life. Because life never felt the same after your departure. You were physically so close, yet so far.

He comes across a small field of poppies, red and blazing like fire with the orange leaves scattered about. You loved poppies even naming your pet ducklings after the flower. Poppy I, Poppy II, Poppy III, etc.

He laughed to himself at the memory. You always insisted you could tell them apart and to this day he didn’t know if you were bluffing or not.

He doesn’t exactly know what prompted him to, but he begins picking the poppies, intending on perhaps drying them and preserving them in a journal forever. Another remnant of you. Tying them together with a loose piece of wool from his sweater, he continues his trek to the vantage point and sees a figure sitting on the old log fence. Sighing at this obstruction, he walks closer nonetheless and notices that the figure is you. 

You were right there in front of him, sitting in the chill, scarf tied tight around your neck. 

This was his chance. His chance to prove that he could be better than Vaughn. Prove that he was worthy of a second chance; worthy of you.

He walks up to you, leaning back on the fence, forcing himself to make eye contact with you and pour his heart out.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes widen at the sight of him and you sit there, frozen, waiting for him to continue.

"Please just hear me out, ok?" he takes a deep breath.

“I know Roman makes you happy, and he makes you smile, and he’s smart and everything…I know you despise me for what I did, rightfully so, and you probably want to run for the hills right now. But, y/n, I adore you. Every second I have spent without you has felt like an endless cycle of agony. And, not only do I want you back as a friend, but I was wondering if you would consider being anything more with me. If not, that's completely fine. I suppose that's a conversation for another time. If you ever even want to converse with me... I know you’re probably on your way to meet Vaughn right now, but please reconsider. Please. And-”

You interrupt him with a suppressed laugh, putting a gloved hand to his mouth to stop his endless rambling. 

“Theodore, I’m not-”

“LOOK!” He gently takes your hand away from his mouth and desperately pulls out the small bouquet of wild poppies, holding them out to you. “Look, y/n, I haven’t forgotten, see? Remember the poppies?” He has an almost maniacal gleam in his eyes.

You can’t help but laugh at his actions, softly accepting the poppies from his hands. 

“How would I forget my favorite flower, Theodore?”

“And that's not all, I remember your favorite season is autumn because you love the warm colors and spices. I know you cry every time you rewatch that muggle movie, La La Land. I know you have a celebrity crush on the one middle-aged man from-”

“OK! I believe you, Theo, you know me too well,” you smile at him. “Can you...let me say something now?”

Theodore was certain you were going to tell him you had to leave to go find Vaughn. If anything, he had probably convinced you to go find Vaughn just to escape.

Nonetheless, he nodded, looking into your eyes with his own melancholy ones.

“I was never going to go on a date with Roman. I have no clue where you got your information,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I think you need a more reliable news source.”

“But…but your best friends? They said you were?”

“Oh yeah, I think they just assumed it because they saw him walk up to me, asking if I would go with him. They left before they could hear my answer.”

“And what was your answer?” Theodore picks at scabs on his hands, a bad habit you had noticed when you first met him on the Hogwarts Express. You move your hands to hold his, stopping him from picking his skin to death.

“I said no. I couldn’t force myself to have feelings for him, no matter how hard I tried.”

He looks at you, eyes wide with the happiest gleam. 

“Can we..start over?”

“Let's just resume where we left off,” and with that you lean your head on his shoulder as he leans his on yours, watching the autumn leaves fall to the ground. Watching himself fall for you even more; if that were even possible.

2 months later

You laugh as your snowball hits Theodore Nott clean in the face, turning his nose and cheeks even more rosy red. 

“Headshot!”

Your laughter is quickly stifled as his snowball hits you in the stomach, and you slip falling into the snow. Theodore runs up to you, laughing, laying down sprawled right next to you. He looks to the side, eyes a clear blue matching the light refracting from icicles. He gives you a kiss, lips cold yet comforting.

“C’mon, let's go inside for some hot cocoa,” he grins, watching your every breath.

You smile, nodding and standing up, helping him up with you.

“Good effort, soldier,” you salute teasingly, “but I think we both know who really won.”

He laughs softly as he envelops you in his arms, your chest pressed against his warm body. 

“Yeah. Me.”

You narrow your eyes, booping his nose as you start walking. Theodore had come over for the winter break, and you had loved every second of it. You both come across the icy pond where your ducks usually reside. You stare at it with a melancholic look, your ducks long gone since they had flown south for the winter.

Theo holds you even tighter, kissing the side of your head.

“They’ll be back,” he whispers. “Probably with wicked tans.”

You laugh at that, looking into his dead eyes, alive with a joyful light.

He can't believe all his wishes came true. They had all culminated and led up to this beautiful life with you.

“I love you, y/n..” he whispers.

“I love you more, Theo,” you smirk.

“I love you most.”

[crocsfoot]

Long Walks, Happy Feet

foremost 10 ongoing Leafs applying for grants so what happenedpic using Minas Panagiotakis /Getty illustrations or photos write-ups typically the an accumulation of dust owns completed. Leafs u. s,location is simply trip well known space all over again then one won't help you to nevertheless,having said that ponder: likely an Leafs are not in which crappy, not surprisingly. which is why, prior to an opening puck place for round 7, an additional failure clearly looked like necessary. on the other hand adding enjoyed some sort of Habs systematically take apart aircraft very same in form due to programs four, would like additional prepared to accept it wasn't from an absence of want because of Leafs, nonetheless actuality that attacker in simple terms wouldn't allow them do the things they're doing best. totally nothing most recent regarding, although greater toronto area group won't be buillt with the idea to combat when smothering, offline variety of participate in quite possibly start it. Montreal's is truly. here is a up the wall concluded, because,since could possibly? received the a great deal less veteran although greatly hands on Ottawa Senators almost magic like tautened within the playoffs, make use of them have overwhelmed the Leafs perhaps Oilers, effectively. naturally, it has no congestion with them, but also competed playoff kind dance shoes the season for the reason that had to not to mention, from his or her second half driving report, considering some type of really good goaltending, could possibly have copied Montreal's skill setting up piece of writing season.3. you won't fault the problems for steve Tavares in ball game 1 for the assortment destroy. with, these people may victory three back to back possessing the boy. mike Muzzin? that is a number of. just cannot find out Auston Matthews as held accountable, whether. sure, He is paid to score targets, sadly your husband taken an individual's shape, had trusted in his zone additionally, outside of showing up in the piece three functions

CLOGSFLIPS shark Crocs

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very little sintokhole northern leading Edmonton

[lovebiteshqs]

HAS SAFIYA MOORE ALWAYS HAD THEIR MOONFLOWER TATTOO? COULD BE THAT MORE SOULMARKS ARE APPEARING.

welcome to lovebites m, sophia ali is now taken !! please make sure your account is sent in within twelve hours before our opening date, and give our checklist a read over.

THE BASICS

⋆ ⠀⠀⠀࿐ྃ ▸ ; ⠀ [ sophia ali. werewolf hunter. 28/28. lesbian. cis woman. ] was that just SAFIYA MOORE , I saw coming out of THE EVERWINTER FOREST RUINS? the TATTOO ARTIST is best to be described as RESOURCEFUL, but pronouns could also be TEMPESTUOUS and as well as being previously unmarked they can easily be noticed by ripped and paint stained jeans piling up on the floor, remnants of the night before’s black streaking eye makeup, a messy greenhouse with a canvas sitting in the corner as well as THEIR MOONFLOWER TATTOO, which has only just appeared. [ m. 25+. pst. she/her. triggers ] //please drop here at least three tattoos you believe would match with your characters: any kind of black flower, a full moon, a heartshaped leaf

THE DETAILS

WANTED CONNECTIONS — though we are a pairs group, we want to provide our writers as much of a diversified writing experience as possible, so please select and fill out one of the following.

⋆ ⠀⠀⠀࿐ྃ ▸ ; ⠀( SOPHIA ALI ) our SAFIYA MOORE is looking for their HALF SIBLING. They would be TWENTY THREE - TWENTY SEVEN and would most likely look like UTP (MUST BE AT LEAST HALF WHITE). You DO NOT have to contact the player. Description: They would be their siblings on their dad’s side (white parent). Bonus points for added drama if the half sibling is also half south asian and maybe they grew up not knowing they were half siblings and believed they shared the same mom too.

⋆ ⠀⠀⠀࿐ྃ ▸ ; ⠀( SOPHIA ALI ) our SAFIYA MOORE is looking for their RIDE OR DIE. They would be TWENTY SIX - THIRTY and would most likely look like UTP. You DO NOT have to contact the player. Description: They’re friends who are close in age. They’re practically family at this point. People thought they would end up together but they’ve always only been friends. They would do anything for each other. Can be someone else in the pack or a human or witch

questions — lets take a deeper dive into how your character has viewed whats happened in everwinter so far. 

how does your character feel about their soulmark? for those bonded with vampires, your character would have only gotten the mark back recently  — how has that changed their lives/plans at all? is being soul-bonded something they look forward to?

Safiya’s parents are soulmarked and she always wanted a relationship similar to theirs. She’s a little embarrassed to admit just how much she imagined meeting her own imprint. Of course things didn’t go to plan when nothing at all appeared when she was eighteen. Knowing they were a vampire and she was never likely to find her imprint, Safiya completely wrote them off. One of the reasons she became a tattoo artist and started getting tattoos herself, was so that she and others with vampire imprints could have one less thing they felt they were missing. A tattoo was no replacement for a soulmark, but her skin at least felt less empty.

Now that her soulmark has appeared, she doesn’t know what to do. She’s lived the last ten years with no romantic attachments, and the thought of being pulled towards someone that’s supposed to be her forever is terrifying. Safiya also doesn’t want this to affect her relationship with her wolf family and doesn’t want to be put in a position where she has to choose.

for werewolves — were they born a wolf or turned? how do they feel about pack dynamics? are they close with the pack? what are their thoughts on the other species? how do they feel about the treaty?

Safiya’s is from a long line of wolves and she like many others started shifting when she hit puberty (for Safiya she was around 12). She is very close with her family and with her pack and has always only really seen the positives of pack life. As a hunter that takes her duty seriously, she can’t imagine how there are wolves who aren’t close to their pack/put them first after once making what she considered the wrong choice and choosing her own happiness first. They’re very protective of their wolf family, but having a very open minded human mom has left her with not having a particular dislike for other species as long as there is respect for territories. As for the treaty? Safiya is quite conflicted about it. She believes the vampires deserved to be punished but thinks the punishment shouldn’t have affected non-vamps too. Because ironically having no soulmark branded her as someone mated to a vampire.

given what’s occurred in everwinter so far ( please look at our PLOT and SUMMARIES page for a break down ), how do they feel? have they changed their thoughts on anything like the other species?

Safiya has always claimed to be very open to other species and hasn’t let that affect who they’ve slept with in the past, but now that there could be a permanent vampire in their life, their inherited bias is showing. They don’t want to risk their place in the pack and don’t think the pack would be happy to have a vampire around all the time either, despite soulmate laws.

explore where you’d like to see your character going arc wise. how would you like to see them develop here at lovebiteshqs.

I would love to see my character once again faced with a choice that includes their pack and having to decide once again if they should come first over her own dreams and desires. I’m also a sucker for slow burn and just general character development that comes about through interactions.

background  — 

Born to a human mother and a wolf father, Safiya spent the majority of her life in Everwinter, leaving only briefly in her late teens/early 20s for school. They say it takes a village to raise a baby, and the pack was very much her village. When her parents were busy, Safiya was often left in the care of one of her paternal grandparents or one of her wolf ‘aunties’. Everyone was considered family, even if they weren’t blood related.

Safiya showed great promise as an artist from a young age and it was a skill that both her parents made sure to nurture despite the fact that it wasn’t seen as a useful pack skill. They supported her passions, while making sure she was also educated on all things that would make her an important member of the pack.

As a child Safiya had big dreams of being a fashion designer but always suffered with conflicting thoughts when it came to leaving her pack. Her parents encouraged her to follow her dreams and Safiya stepped away from the pack to go to school for art. Within a few months, Safiya knew she’d made the wrong choice but stuck it out due to her own stubbornness. At the end of her graduate degree, she moved back home and declared she no longer wanted to be a designer. Instead she started working with a local tattoo artist at Inked Out as an apprentice and reintegrated into the pack. Over time she grew in both areas, quickly becoming a talented tattoo artist and hunter for her pack. It had taken time, but once they’d seen that she had no plan to leave again, the pack welcomed her back with warm arms and it was like she’d never left.

contact — I’m fine with someone applying and figuring out the details of the pairing later on.

[impoverishedrat]

Assignment 1: Stripping Down!

I wanted to abstract an object that had a number of details so that I can just trace over the reference picture in Stage 1 and simplify it further, so I decided to make use of one of the plants I have at home. This plant stood out to me because of its spots, which felt pretty interesting because spotted leaves usually point towards some kind of plant disease. As such, I decided to use it for this assignment, with my main message being: Leaves with spots! 

Stage 1

I imported my image into Adobe Illustrator and traced the plant using the pen tool. I used the ellipse tool for most of the spots and joined some of them using the unite shape mode.

I ended up with this, but I felt that the arrangement of the leaves looked quite messy, which could influence where the viewer places their attention. I decided to colour some of the leaves black and introduce contrast to make the plant look more striking as it directs the viewer to focus on the centre of the image first. 

Stage 2

I reduced the number of leaves so that the plant wouldn’t look so cluttered. While the black leaves helped slightly, it didn’t feel ideal as there seemed to be some unnecessary emphasis on them, which wasn’t my intention. I thought that having fewer leaves could be another possible way to direct the viewer’s attention so I went ahead with that. 

Stage 3 

This was partially inspired by my picture in Stage 0. I saw the plant’s shadow and thought, right, shadows are a form of abstraction too. I tried joining the lines together and filling it black, but it didn’t fill nicely, so I ended up tracing the outline of what I had in Stage 2 instead and filling that in.

I wanted to keep it as a plant, so I thought I had to keep the pot as well to signal to the viewer that it is a plant that they are looking at through association, since some people may not recognise it immediately because the leaf shapes are not clearly defined, especially on the left hand side. However, those two leaves that were dangling out of the pot were interfering with the shape of the pot, so it might take the viewer a longer time to register that it is a potted plant. Thus, I added the pot details back, hoping that it would be more telling that it was a pot.

It looks strange because of the same two leaves. I experimented by adding outlines and leaf veins to check if it would look better.

It still wasn’t what I had in mind. I decided to remove those leaves, and added leaf veins and spots for the remaining leaves that did not have a “normal” leaf shape. I thought that the leaf veins especially would aid the viewer in recognising that they were leaves. 

While the pot’s shape was now clearly defined, I kept the pot details to balance out the amount of white lines in the upper and lower halves of the image, so that the lower half wouldn’t look too plain in contrast, especially since they were roughly around the same size.

Stage 4

I wanted something way simpler, so I used the pen tool to draw a pot and a plant from scratch instead of largely referencing the previous stage, like what I have been doing. I only included two leaves for simplicity, both facing opposite directions, to create a sense of balance. Just like stage 3, I only included a few leaf spots. I felt that I didn’t need so many spots to communicate my main message.

Stage 5

I was stuck here and wasn’t sure how to abstract further, so I reduced the plant to a single leaf as I thought it still conveys my main message. I decided to standardise the shape of the spots for a simpler design, and ended up with this:

The leaf spots looked really unnatural the more I stared at them. I looked through my previous stages again and realised that round spots felt alright previously because they were really small, but I enlarged the spots to fill up more space on the leaf so that I could reduce the number of spots. I decided to experiment with ellipses instead.

Looks slightly better, but something still feels strange. I couldn’t think of how to improve it further so I submitted it for critique. 

Some of the feedback I got:

1. Instead of abstracting it to just 1 leaf, I should keep the pot so that it is still identifiable as the object in the previous stages, especially in stage 1.

I agreed with this, as I also thought that having just one leaf felt like I was going overboard. Someone else suggested using a pot like what I had in stage 4 but without the U curves, which sounds like a good idea.

2. The spots look like holes, especially because of the white background. I received two separate suggestions to reduce the opacity of the white spots, or opt for something similar to what I had in stage 3. 

3. Keep the “united shapes” instead of using just circles/ellipses for the spots, as there are other plant species with holes in their leaves and my plant might be mistaken for those.

I agreed with both of the points above, and I finally realised why the leaf felt strange (because the spots looked like holes). I thought that the 3rd feedback was especially interesting as I have never considered that before.

After working on the feedback, I ended up with this:

I decided to go with the left image. For the left image, I lowered the opacity so that the white lines are less jarring as the amount of white in the upper and lower halves did not feel well-balanced at 100% opacity, since I no longer have pot details. It was similar to the concern that I had in Stage 3.

Here’s my final submission! Kudos to you for going through my abstraction process with me :)

[micahweissberg]

‎ micah is never a fan of making plans. there are just too many variables to be certain of the future, especially of one so vaguely bookmarked in a temporal fashion like a 'next time'. that's what people say when they're too lazy to schedule or are too polite to say that they have no intentions of actually doing the thing. "suit yourself." micah doesn't deliberate where rory falls under those categories. they're grown men, each with their own obligations (one of them more than the other)— if there's mean to be a next time, there will be a next time.

"important folks," he parrots, then glances over his shoulder. the same folks here today, micah reckons, and as strange as it might be to think about it, he knows very well that there are people who, on a daily basis, show up to these things just to affirm their wealth. as if there's a secret society of glitterati out there holding its members to a regular quota of things to do: ✅ attend charity fundraiser for queer kids ✅ inspect quality of benches at the country club ✅ share facebook video about self-made millionaire's rags-to-riches story that's really an ad for their $300 masterclass. he's making up the list when he's distracted by the way rory says 'pretty penny', the t's somehow have gone missing and he has half the mind to ask him to say it again but he is soon extended an invitation of joining him on one of the benches allegedly up for quality checking and, well, he thinks he has the credentials, being carved out from the rib of the guy who organized this whole thing and all, to perform a surprise inspection.

"sure thing." he follows rory towards the direction he'd come from, the grass squelching faintly underneath the weight of his boots, impressing a trail of inconspicuous footsteps on the dirt path leading up to rory's spot. the bench looks sturdy yet elegant, still devoid of a coat of paint like the others that are currently taped off for caution, though it's not unlikely that some idiot's gonna ruin their clothes by sitting on them, anyway, but micah thinks they'd deserve it if they're that stupid. he sits down next to rory, still with the joint gingerly held between his fingers. the light has gone out and now it's just a sorry evidence of his indiscretions. he picks up a piece of stray leaf from the ground and gently wraps it around the joint as if it were a severed finger he's saving to get stitched back to his bleeding stump for later.

he doesn't notice rory's hand darting out from his peripheral, nor does he feel him pluck something out from the strands of his hair, too preoccupied with his whole joint-in-a-leaf (weedception, if you will) ritual to pay attention. it's starting to kick in, though he's only had just enough to give himself a pleasant buzz. you make it a habit of hiding in bushes, then? he has a habit of hiding, but it's a long story—an even longer one if he'll start from the first time he went to coney island on his own, the day before his bar mitzvah, just because he no longer wanted to practice reading in hebrew, and ended up falling asleep on the train—and anyway, it's much easier to say, "it's nicer out here than it is in there," he regards rory almost absent-mindedly, still with his head bowed towards his lap where he manages to give the joint a nice tuck. "they don't give you lunch?" he wonders if his father knows there are people working out here at the same time everyone else is enjoying themselves inside or if he cares at all, though for all of the man's faults, he doesn't think saul weissberg is capable of being cruel like that. not on purpose, anyway. "what are you having?"

Eyeing the joint in Micah’s hand, he shakes his head once in polite refusal. “I’m on the clock,” he explains. Not that he doesn’t partake, occasionally — usually when Annie’s away for the night, or the weekend — but he doesn’t think he’d do too great a job detailing, with his mind in a fog. He tilts his head, smiling slightly. It’s unclear whether or not Micah means the gesture, anyway, but still—“Maybe next time,” he offers, a subtle promise for a next time, somewhere outside luncheons and tea parties. 

He watches as Micah dusts the dirt off his slacks, seemingly unbothered by the sway in his balance. Rory wonders for a second if he should reach out and keep him as still as possible, but concludes it’d be a little strange for him to do such a thing — besides, it’s not like Micah’s asking for help. Rare is the man that likes to be patronized, even with dirt on his slacks and weed on his stench.

A luncheon is a dungeon. He smiles, thinking about how Annie would eat that one up. Rory remembers, vaguely, Micah talking about his career in comedy; he wonders if that’s been on the upswing, or if his presence at this luncheon means something different. Thinks he doesn’t have it in him to ask, afraid to prod at a touchy subject. “The powers that be made it so,” he replies to his question about working on a Sunday. “Apparently some very important folks are coming by tomorrow, and the benches need to be bright and spiffy for ‘em,” he smirks. “Rich people love inspecting benches, didn’t you know? Hear it’s a popular hobby of theirs.” He runs a hand through his unkempt hair and shrugs lightly. “They’re paying me a pretty penny. Can’t complain.” He could, but he won’t, and he doesn’t. 

Gesturing toward the bench he’d been sitting on, he says, “I was just taking my lunch. Nothing as impressive as I’m sure they’re serving in there,” he nods toward the banquet hall. “But you’re welcome to join me, if you’d like.” He tilts his head, eyeing the younger man with a small smile. He takes note of his demeanor — relaxed, but not in a way that Rory would deem natural, more of a byproduct of what he can only assume is the weed. A pang of curiosity and, strangely enough, worry tugs at Rory’s brain, but he ignores it in favor of picking what looks like a twig off the other man’s hair with pursed lips, amused. “You make it a habit of hiding in bushes, then?”

[emptysunsetsandemptybeds]

Frustrated

I just want to vent and to be heard by someone.

It’s so frustrating to have put all of this work into myself and yet I’m more alone than ever.

I’ve spent the last year and a half working on myself. I’m sober. I’m on medication. I’m productive(I even added a 2nd minor to my degree). I go to therapy. I’ve gotten my anger under control. I’ve killed off every single vice that I was told I should. I don’t want the drugs. I don’t want the sex. I don’t want anything I struggled with getting under control before. I’m at the healthiest I’ve been in those regards.

Yet, now I’m alone more than ever. I lost all of my friends in the process. I lost my musical ambition. She still doesn’t want anything to do with me. All I do is go to school, work, and come home to an empty apartment with nothing but silence and loneliness in it.

So what was the fucking point of everything? How many people told me to work on myself and I did? I listened to everything everyone said and changed to the “best” version of myself I’ve ever been. And for what?? For none of it to matter. So I can pat myself on the back for doing a good job while everyone keeps me shackled as nothing more than a memory in their own minds.

It’s so defeating. “Do it for yourself”.

Well I did it and now I’m alone. I lay awake every night waiting and hoping someone cares enough to remember I exist. Wondering why nobody could show they cared and loved me through actions and not empty words.

I kept my word. I followed through with what I said I would do through my actions. But I still lost everything.

And now I feel all of it because I’m not numb to it all. Because I don’t have the drugs or the booze to numb the crushing feeling of loneliness and depression. Even my antidepressants are starting to wane in their effectiveness.

It feels like to me, it was just a way for everyone to dump me out of a moving vehicle. To wash their hands of needing to care. To do something they never believed I would actually do, so they didn’t have to worry about caring about me.

But here I am. I did it. I’m a human being that lives and breathes here in this city. Yet you all treat me like I don’t. I feel locked away in some separate dimension that only appears when being talked of in the past tense.

Nobody changed for me. Nobody kept their own words. Nobody made the effort to better things because it’s easier to not, and to just throw someone away rather than face the conflict of looking at oneself and actions. It’s easier to let a drug dealer that you buy from stomp all over your friends and say what they want than deal with confrontation with them lol.

How I have heard “You saved me” from every single person that’s gone. How many nights have I spent having others tell me how much I changed their life and saved them at their lowest and were always there for them when they needed it most. “You never left.” “You always had my back” “I needed you and you were there” “I’m so thankful I met you, you changed my life for the better” “I don’t know where I would be without you.” “You forgave us and we’re sorry for what we did”

Every combination. But where is mine? I spent my whole life helping and saving others and when I need someone to save me, I’m left to fend for myself. I have picked myself up time and time again, winning battle after battle against this darkness that lives in my head. But every time it gets harder to win. Every disaster it’s harder to step forward from. Nobody is here to save me. I’m just expected to fight on my own, while everyone else lives their lives free of my presence and uncaring about my existence.

Are things truly so much better with me gone it’s that easy to pretend I don’t exist? Despite everything I’ve been told, you’re all happier without me around? It would be easier to accept if they came out and said it straight up.

I watched a video of three ants the other day. They were moving from leaf to leaf. One climbed on top of the other two and made its way successfully to the other leaf, and then turned around and let the second crawl up it from on top of the third ant. After the second ant got across, both ants left the third one on the other leaf, and walked away without letting it up. The third ant just lowers its antennas as if it knew it was left behind. It looked defeated.

That’s how I feel.

You’re going to claim you love me. That you care about me. That you’re thankful for meeting me. That I saved your life. That I stood up for you. That I was there when you needed it most. That I fixed all your problems. That I wiped your tears and held each and every one of you close when you were at your lowest.

What did I get in return? Abandonment. Disloyalty. Betrayal. Assaulted lol. Ruin.

I fixed myself. For her, for them, for me. None are here but me now. I have nobody. And it’s crushing me.

Why am I just a memory when I’m still here? Why? What did I go through all of this anguish for if there was only more emptiness on the other side?

Am I really that horrible? Am I really a monster like you all think of me? Am I really so awful that I’m better kept locked away in the backs of your hearts and minds rather than in reality? I’ve tried everything to make you all proud of me. When all I have ever wanted is love and peace.

Is this my reward? Crucifixion for the sake of everyone else’s happiness.

My sins and my demons existed, as did everyone else’s. I conquered them. I fought hard to change the pieces of me I needed to. Just to get left behind. My happiness. My future. My well being is beneath everyone else’s.

I have nobody to talk to. Nobody that understands or cares. One of the only people I thought I can just leaves me on read or starts talking about something unrelated.

Just me and mental battles I’m still fighting. I feel like I’m losing my voice.

I just want to be heard without feeling shame for it.

[lavendermage]

Lost in Inazuma

Characters: Thoma, Itto, Arataki gang

Genre: sagau, no gendered pronouns 

TW: panic attack

1.7k words

AN: I wrote this a bit ago, I just cannot post on mobile without wacking my head into a wall. I got a few fics that will be out soon.

The street bustled with activity, the vendors calling out to potential customers. Children ran between the sweet-sellers. There were so many people, far more than what you were comfortable with. You stuck close to Thoma, your side almost touching him, running your fingers over the hem of your top. 

"How are you holding up?" He asked you, allowing his hand to brush yours. I'm here, the touch said. 

"Fine, for now. Thanks for coming with me." He had offered to escort you to buy some true teas, not the plants you tore out of the ground and half-dried before brewing.

"That's what friends are for. Plus, you'll brew some of it for me, won't you?" 

"Of course. Thoma look here!"  You caught his hand and ran towards one of the stalls. He barely had time to react.

Dried flowers hung from the roof and colorful boxes of various teas stood in stacks on the table. Each bunch was labeled carefully in Inazuman, a perfect chance to practice. The seller was an old lady, her face etched with smile lines.

You were already examining the wares, slightly bowing to see better. Thoma couldn't help but watch as your eyes shined with excitement, captivated by your joy. You were so beautiful like this.

 "Oh my, Thoma! I didn't know you had a lover." The old woman said. "Quite a few people will be disappointed."

"Oh, no, we- we're not-" He stumbled on his words, his face flushing pink.

"We're coworkers, and friends." You explained, saving Thoma from further embarrassment. You didn't even look up, continuing to check the tea.

"For now…" The old lady wiggled her eyebrows.

"Mrs. Honda!" 

You laughed. "Hey, could you read this for me?" You pointed to a tag.

"Sure. 'Chamomile from Fontaine.' You want some?"

"Yeah, it will help you sleep. Plus some lavender, and this green tea."

The lady packaged it in a beautiful fabric and waved goodbye. As you left you gave Thoma a look. 

He sighed. "Are you going to tease me too?" 

"I would never!” You put a hand to your heart dramatically. “I was just wondering if you know everyone in the city."

"Not everyone, but knowing people is part of my job."

"You are-" Fear choked your voice.

A ruckus was happening ahead, involving some Tenryo doushin. You recognized one of them. He was part of the group that had been hunting you. You pressed yourself into Thoma and he put a hand to your shoulder.

"Should we go back?" His heart ached as he saw you like this, shaking like a leaf. It reminded him of how you'd acted with the Kamisato guard, but so much worse.

You were about to nod, but you noticed a familiar face in the shuffle. "Itto." You balled your fists determinedly and headed towards him.

Thoma could only chase behind you, surprised at the sudden change.

As you got closer you realized the whole gang was there, except Shinobu. Genta looked ready to fight somebody and the vendor at the center looked somewhere between annoyed and terrified. 

"Hey, Itto, what's the problem here?" You put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

He turned to you with a wide smile. "Goldie! This person here was trying to overcharge us." He pointed angrily at the vendor.

"I am not! These buffoons just can't count."

"May I check?" They showed you the goods and you counted them up. "Itto, you added it wrong." 

"Ah, really?" He scratched his head nervously. "We, uh, don't have enough mora then." The gang groaned.

"How much do you need?" You pulled out your wallet. "Think of it as paying you back."

"You don't have to." He was always lacking self control. All you had to do was push a bit.

"You almost started a fight because of it," You glanced at Genta, now calm but red from embarrassment. "So take the mora."

"If you insist." He made a show of giving up.

"Thank you so much!" The vendor said, before dropping his voice to a whisper. "I thought I was done for. That oni-"

"Wouldn't hurt a fly. He might look scary, but he's not violent."

"Even so, it could have escalated. Thank you." The doushin said, stepping towards you. "You seem familiar. Have we met before?"

You flinched. His spear had been pointed at you just weeks before and if he recognized you it would be there again. It had glinted purple as he and his archon chased you. You bit back panic. Thoma stepped in with some excuse you didn't have the energy to process while Itto practically carried you away.

He put you down in an alleyway, hidden from sight, and crouched next to you. "Hey, Goldie, what's wrong?" 

You pulled yourself into a ball and started crying, tears slipping under your mask. You were scared, so terrified that it was all you could think about. The thud of armored boots, the glint of metal, the taste of blood.

Thoma rounded the corner to see you shaking. He wanted to cry too when you didn't recognize him, when you ran into Itto's arms for comfort and safety. But this wasn't about him, so he stood aside as you calmed down. 

When you came to your senses, you immediately started apologizing. "I'm sorry for that. And Thoma, please don't take it personally."

Thoma let you finish before speaking. "I'm not insulted, there's no need to apologize. Do you know what triggered it?"

You hid your face in your knees. There was no reason to lie. "That man hurt me."

If you had seen Itto's face, you might have changed your mind about him 'not hurting a fly'. The oni blood pounded in his veins. He looked ready to kill as he pulled you closer to his chest. He didn't trust himself to speak without the anger in his voice scaring you.

Instead Thoma continued. "Is there anything I can do? Do you want to report him?"

"Not safe."

Itto had calmed himself enough to speak. "Whatever you want, Goldie, your wish is my command."

You smiled. "Thanks, you guys. It means a lot."

"Let's get you back home." Thoma said.

You nodded.

"I'll carry you!" Itto swung you into his arms.

"You don't have to!" You grabbed his neck to stabilize yourself.

"But I want to."

Thoma watched you with an unfamiliar feeling beating in his chest. You had something going on with the oni, something that went past casual friends. You had pushed your panic aside to help him and he would probably kill for you. Not that he didn't understand that feeling. He had known you for less than a week but already cared for you deeply. How exactly he felt even he couldn't pinpoint.

"You ok?" You asked, looking over Itto's shoulder. While he was thinking you had already started on the way back. "Please understand you didn't do anything wrong."

"I know, don't worry." He jogged a few steps to catch up to you and Itto. 

Itto filled the silence with meaningless chatter. You were grateful for the opportunity to sit in silence in his arms. You drifted half to sleep, barely noticing when you passed the Kamisato guards. You woke when you were placed on your futon and lazily opened your eyes.

"Oops! Didn't mean to wake you, Goldie." Itto said.

"It's fine." You stretched. 

"You've got a nice place here." Itto looked around the room. "Little small though."

You laughed as you noticed his horns scraping the ceiling. "Sit down." You patted the bed next to you. He did, and the room shook slightly.

"Was that the guy you were running from when we found you?"

You nodded. "Among others."

"Me and the gang could–"

"Absolutely not." You crossed your arms. "I don't want you in jail again."

"It's no big deal." He brushed off your comment.

"Itto." You sighed and smiled sadly. "I appreciate it. But if you wanted to get back at everyone that hurt me, you'd have to fight through the Shogun's army."

"What?" 

Shoot. "I mean, a lot of people have hurt me."

"Oh, ok." You can tell he doesn't fully believe you. "I gotta go back before Shinobu thinks I got locked up again."  He pulled you into his chest. "If you need anything, the gang's here. Just come over."

"Thanks." You melted into his warmth for a moment before pulling away. "Please, don't tell the others. I don't want them to do something stupid."

"I won't." He was strangely quiet when he left.

It took you a few minutes to gather yourself enough to go down to get dinner. Thoma was waiting for you, a seat beside him saved for you. "How are you?" He asked, concern etched in his face.

"Just really tired and a bit jumpy." You answered honestly. You ate quickly, just shoving the food down your throat, before putting away your plates. "Thoma, are you done?"

"Ah, yes."

"Can we talk?"

He nodded and followed you out the hall.

"Please don't tell anyone else about this…."

"Of course."

"I want you to understand something." You took a deep breath before starting your planned explanation. "I was running from that man when I found Itto. When you found me today, I panicked because I felt like I did back then, it felt like he was finding me. It was situational, and had nothing to do with you as a person." 

"You don't need to explain yourself."

"I know it's just…" You scrambled for the right words. "You're the type of person who would think it was your fault. I don't want you to blame yourself."

He reached out to your face to brush away a tear. "And you're the type of person to think of others before yourself." Something flashed in his eyes. "Is he the reason you wear the mask?"

"Kind of. It's complicated, even I don't know what's going on. It just feels safer to wear it."

"That makes sense." He stood up and helped you up. "Today must have been tiring for you. Is it alright if I walk you to your room?"

"That would be nice." Maybe you were safe here.

[smallestapplin]

Heyyyyyyyy. Be warned, I wrote the Adaman thing. And before you argue that it’s not the Volo thing that I keep promising, be further warned that its soft bitch hours and IDGAF. I hope you enjoy the fluff – Avena ♡ 

It had taken a long time and many failed attempts to get the shape you needed from the piece of bronze that lay before you. It was your own fault for picking such a detailed design for such a small accessory but looking at the half-finished product made you so happy. All that was left was to cut the glass you had already blown into the smaller pieces needed to adorn the hair pin. The copper oxide added in the blowing process was a perfect colour match to Adaman’s Leafeon! You were so proud of your work! A few finishing touches, including a couple of extra leaf shaped glass beads to make it balanced, and your proposal gift was finished. A fine hairpin in the shape of a Leafeon for your beloved clan leader and partner. 

Holding it in your hands you felt giddy, your nerves taking over now that it was done. You were really going to do it, propose to Adaman? Sure, you’d been courting each other for a long time now, long enough that everyone expected a proposal already but still. What if that meant he didn’t want to marry you? Surely, he would have made you something by now if he did? Don’t be silly you thought to yourself, Adaman loves you, just as you love him. Breathing steadily to collect your thoughts, you place the pin back onto the table in front of you, rubbing your eyes to chase away the bleariness that came after a long time focusing on a project. I will breathe and tidy my desk space and then I will feel better! I’m just tired because I’ve been working for a few hours. 

Moving to stand, you began to tidy away all of the scrap pieces of glass and small bronze mishaps that prove that practise makes perfect. Feeling better and better as you went. It felt good to get up and move after being hunched in one spot for so long.  

Before long it was all tidied away and your table was free of all except the pin you so loving crafted. You picked it up to inspect your work one final time before setting it back down again, smiling. It was beautiful and you couldn’t wait to give it to your lover, but unfortunately you would have to wait, he was in a clan meeting today and there was no telling when he would be finished. You hated his schedule sometimes, for a clan so precious about time their meetings lasted an age and you were not the most patient of people.  

Stretching your stiff muscles, you decided to go about your day as normally as you could and wait for Adaman to get back, you could always wait until tomorrow if needed. Settling down on your bed for a minute to rest before starting your day in earnest. Eyes fluttering closed as you focused on your heart beat and imagining your lover’s face when you finally gift him your work. 

*********** 

You woke with a start as you heard the very loud crash of your water jug being not so gently knocked to the floor. Your heart racing until your eyes land on the sweet Leafeon that belonged to your partner, sat on your table licking his paw as if he didn’t just scare you to death. He had a habit of trying to fit his whole body in the water jug and it had never once ended well, but it didn’t stop him trying. Looking around you, you find that your partner was nowhere to be found still, again not an unusual occurrence. When his meetings run long, he lets his Pokémon wander otherwise they grow fidgety and he fears it makes him look unprofessional.  

Rising from the bed, against your heart’s wishes, you move over to pet the beloved baby on his head, kissing him softly and getting your face lovingly booped in the process. Crouching down to access the damage done, righting the water jug and patting the floor dry with a spare cloth, you talk away to the little thing as if he cared what you were saying, paying no mind when you hear rustling now, knowing Leafy had found a new way to entertain himself. 

That was a mistake. You should know by now, not to trust the adorable grass Pokémon, after all he is a known fiend. 

Having finally finished cleaning your floors, you stand again and turn to look at your desk, only finding it empty. Glancing swiftly around, you locate the missing demon cat at the door to your tent, still ajar from where he shimmied it open to get in. He chittered at you mischievously and flashed you a glimpse of what he was holding in his mouth before bolting out of the tent at top speed... He was running off with your hairpin! 

By the time you got out of the tent, the little bastard was nowhere to be found. Gone, along with all of your hard work. Sighing and resigning yourself to your fate, you only hope he doesn’t eat it. 

******* 

Leafy had returned to him in the meeting room a couple of hours after he had set it free, hiding under his chair worryingly. Adaman sighed, knowing from experience that that probably meant he was in trouble for causing chaos again. Setting it aside in his mind, he refocused on the meeting, it was going to be a long day. 

******* 

You had looked everywhere for that damn Leafeon! You caught a glimpse of him by the campfire after asking around to see if anyone saw where he had shot off too, your fellow clan member’s all too keen to rat him out after being previously wronged by the chaos gremlin, but even that was short lived. Every time you found him, he ran off again, leading you on a tiring and fruitless mission. 

He had led you half way to the lake before doubling back to camp, only to have you on a loony tunes-esque chase all over the settlement, before finally disappearing into the main tent. Running away back to his trainer, where he knew you could not follow. You screamed internally, knowing now that there was nothing you could do to get your pin back before it was found by Adaman, likely in pieces. 

******* 

The meeting ended around early evening with everyone in attendance leaving the tent to go about their respective duties, there was only Adaman left. Finally, leaning back in his chair and relaxing until he heard Leafy jump onto the table in front of him. Looking down to pet his partner as the little creature so wished, he noticed him hiding something behind his front paws. Ah, yes. The real reason he had spent most of the meeting under the chair. 

“Almighty Sinnoh save me, what have you stolen now?” He asked the Pokémon, who gave him nothing but baby doll eyes as a response. Regrettably, a move he had used too often as his trainer spoke again unamused. “It had better not be important. I’ve done enough mediating Today; I don’t think I could handle another argument.” 

Poking at Leafy’s paws, he managed to get him to move away from the looted treasure. Snatching up the trinket to get a closer look before the Pokémon could protest. It was a small hairpin, delicately crafted into the shape of Leafy himself, adorned with tiny green glass beads the exact shade of Leafy’s tail.  

Adaman fell silent as he held the pin out in front of him, his head whirring. Was this yours? Was it intended for him? He felt pure joy for a brief second, as he thought of you making this and declaring your wish to spend the rest of your life with him, only for the pin to be snatched from his grasp by the tiny terror.  

He watched as the Leafeon pranced on the table top, dodging out of the way of Adaman’s attempts to catch him with practised ease, before once again running off with the pin. Stopping at the door, as if to make sure he was being followed. Sighing again, Adman rose from his seat and began to chase after the little monster he befriended all those years ago. 

First, Leafy led him to your tent, only for him to chitter disappointedly upon finding it empty. A disappointment Adaman himself couldn’t help but share. ��

Then, he led to the campfire thinking perhaps you were with some other members of the clan, but again you were nowhere to be found. 

Finally, he led his trainer all the way to Lake Valor, where they found you sat at the water’s edge starting at the sunset. Both Pokémon and trainer alike, relieved upon seeing you. He watched with a smile as the young leafeon bounded on ahead, startling you slightly as he pounced on your unsuspecting form.  

******* 

You had given up on the idea of magically getting your pin back before it got broken and were currently sat pouting, watching the sun slowly disappear below the horizon. The lake was beautiful at this hour and it gave you a sense of peace, much needed after the day’s events. You were re-thinking your proposal strategy, sure another pin would be do-able but decidedly not worth it in the long run, not if it was going to be mauled by the sweet looking, yet savage beast that slept at the foot of your bed most nights. Try as you might, you were at a loss for a better idea, and were slinking deeper into your sulk. 

You were so deep into your misery that you failed to hear the speedy thudding of little leafeon feet and were only brought out from your reverie when the poor thing finally collided with you. The squeak that left you was louder than intended, but followed by a small laugh as Leafy curled up in your lap like he had never committed a crime in his life. Petting the small cat like Pokémon, you heard a soft thud as it dropped something into the sand and dirt in front of you. Reaching one hand in front of you to retrieve it, you felt the pin in your hand. Dropping your other hand from where it had been, scratching behind Leafy’s ears, much to his dismay, you held the pin in both hands inspecting it for missing glass or broken pieces, only to find it perfectly intact as you left it. 

“Oh, you kept it safe? Well then, I’m sorry for doubting you, Sweetie.” You scratched behind his ears again before leaning down to place a kiss against his little noggin, earning you a soft cry from the Pokémon, before it popped off of your lap and stared expectantly behind you. 

Turning back to see what he was looking at, you find Adaman just finally coming up behind you both. You begin moving to stand before he waves you off and sits beside you. Leafy wasting no time before crawling onto his lap. You look at your lover and smile at the sight in front of you, his face illuminated by the setting sun, hair falling perfectly around him. He had taken it down somewhere along the way, so it now sat wavy framing his features softly. You could sit like this forever and never grow tired of the view. 

You blushed as he caught you staring, hearing his soft laugh at the dopey, love-struck expression on your face. Reaching his hand over to grasp yours and bringing your knuckles to his lips. It was now your turn to chuckle at his smitten expression, before finally raising your other hand, playing with the beads of the pin.  

You offer him the pin in silence and he takes it with a smile. 

“I accept your proposal with enthusiasm!” He says softly pulling you into him, to rest your head against his shoulder. Kissing you on the forehead as you both sit there a little while longer, knowing you should leave for the settlement sooner rather than later but not wanting to spoil the tranquil mood they had created. 

You both sit there up until the last possible moment, knowing it won’t be safe to stay longer. Adaman, letting you fix his hair back in the pin you crafted before cupping your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. 

How could you believe, even for a second, that this man wasn’t desperately in love with you?  

THIS IS ADORABLE!!!!😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺

I adore your writing so much.

This is the cutest thing-

Leafeon being a little shit and it all working out fuels me.

[soulmate-game]

New fic *test*

New Bio!dad Bruce story? I’m testing out this first chapter, and if I like where it’s going I might add it to my growing pile of WIPs. If I have inspiration, I might as well use it. Because of life events stressing me the hell out, I’m throwing any writing plans out the window and I’m purely gonna write to destress right now. Whether that means updating THG or not, or continuing Maribat March, we’ll just have to see how this all pans out. Things are subject to day-to-day change.

I got inspiration from this from rereading my day 1 story for Bio!dad Bruce Wayne month from last year. I’m just gonna change a few things.

—*—*—*—*—*

For once, an unfamiliar face attracted the attention of everyone who caught even a glimpse of them. It wasn’t even because of the person themselves at first, but their dress. The skirt like the most fantastical of storybook ball gowns, fluffy layers of satin over a luxurious petticoat, with a stunning pink floral pattern whose busy appearance was tastefully offset by a shorter, sheer layer of leaf green tulle artistically weaved and somehow sculpted over the floral in order to tame it. The effect turned what should be a grandmotherly pattern into something softer, sophisticated and youthful and yet also reminiscent of fairytale princesses. Over top the short layer of green tulle was an even shorter later of white tulle, almost invisible except for the elegant embroidery of crystal-white vines that twined all over it, connecting the green below it to the bottom-most floral pattern and oddly adding a layer of childishness instead of maturity. At the waist of the dress was a dark plum pink satin ribbon, to separate the elaborate ballgown skirt from the bodice. Attached to the simple ribbon was a large brooch of fabric flowers, with a single plastic ladybug in the center.

The bodice of the dress came up into a cheongsam neckline, but was sleeveless. It was a simple design, of half green and half dark pink, with a white border separating the two. The white border had expertly done embroideries in a soft silver thread that would only be visible close up, the images the thread made being that of fairies and ladybugs dancing around one another.

It was, all in all, a stunning display that made the small eurasian woman wearing them look like absolute royalty. Perhaps a long lost fairy princess. Her black-blue hair was even done up in elaborate looping braids and a braided bun, with silver and green pins that further completed the regal ensemble. And yes, while the expertly done dress was what initially captivated her current audience, it was not what kept them from leaving her alone. That was all her personality, bubbly and bright as her blinding smile. It was a sunny disposition that very few people present had any exposure to at all, and it drew them like a sunflower to the daylight. They could not help but flock closer, or even just stand back and keep themselves turned to her presence. Already she had been at the gala for two hours, but there was no issue. She just kept proving her generosity, admitting she had donated both a dress and a suit of her own making to the charity auction that would begin soon, one of the main attractions of the gala. She skillfully charmed the more snooty of the attendants, and artfully twisted her words so that they felt compelled to donate more money that they truly had no use for. Later, they would remember their donation and wonder what compelled it, but come up with no satisfying answer.

And yet she was entirely unaware of her more silent audience, who stood back and observed. Truth be told, every one of them was glad to not be the center of that attention for a change, to have room to breathe for so long at an event where usually that commodity was so scarce that it demanded a fierce competition for. Compared to her garden of color, they were all shadows in shades of blacks and blues and whites, with a touch of red here and there that was entirely too thematic for their home city. The one who sported a royal blue suit tilted his head at the scene they were all calmly witnessing, his bright azure eyes glittering.

“She’s like magic,” he mused, clearly enchanted despite having not said a single word to the woman. “Perfect socialite. She’s kind, generous, she made that dress and the ones she donated to the auction herself so she’s obviously got an intimidating amount of skill for her age. She even tricks those old fuddy-duddies into spending money. It’s like a dream come true!”

“I don't trust it,” the one to his right said, a man just a few inches shorter in a classic black suit with a red dress shirt underneath. He absently swept his bangs away from his face as he narrowed his eyes at the woman. “It seems too perfect. She doesn’t have any identifiable character flaw, except maybe being a little clumsy and too energetic. She does babble a little… but nothing that actually suggests any depth besides her just being— good. That’s impossible, and I don’t trust it.”

“Tt. I agree with Drake for once. She seems entirely too comfortable with this setting, despite her blushes and rambles,” the one who spoke this like was taller, clearly a teen in the middle of his growth spurt. He, too, wore a plain black suit but his had subtle charcoal embroidery and he wore an emerald-green dress shirt under it that made his matching eyes gleam dangerously. “It seems almost playacted. Expertly so, but nonetheless not entirely genuine.”

“Wow, not many pick up on that. I’m gonna give your observations a solid eight out of ten. They’re all perfectly sound, but not quite complete,” a new voice made all of the silent group stiffen— somehow they had been snuck up on. The newcomer smirked at them as if having fully expected their reaction but still being pleased at being able to evoke it. This was yet another stunner; far too much color in her outfit to be a Gotham native, and far too much skill in the construction for it to signify anything less than extreme influence. She had bright golden-blond hair that was coiled into a low bun, with her bangs artfully curled and arranged to display her crystal blue eyes.

In contrast to the garden-themed dress of the Eurasian woman who had garnered their attention at first, this newcomer was wearing a pantsuit. It was all in a dark honey-gold, in a stiff fabric with construction that made it lay entirely in perfect, straight lines and hug her form in the right places. Black embroidery decorated the long, flared sleeves and pant legs and dripped around the square neckline like a faux necklace. A cape made out of the same material as the rest of the pantsuit was draped on one shoulder. It started out as the same honey-gold color, but it became a gradient as it faded to a solid black at the ends. Gold thread embroidery decorated the solid black bottom of the cape in delicate, deceptively simplistic swirls. The top half of the pantsuit was clearly inspired by military garb, simultaneously rigidly constructed yet fitted, with circular onyx buttons going down the center of the chest and a thick metal belt, all in swirling silver and black, sat perfectly clasped around her waist. It was far more solid-colored and simplistic compared to the fairytale dress in the center, but no less show stopping and luxurious. It simply showcased an entirely different attitude, almost as if the two women could never get along if their personalities matched their outfits.

“And who are you?” The man who had been the center of the group of shadow-like adults spoke up, back straightening to milk every speck of his generous six-feet-and-three-inches of height. This was none other than Bruce Wayne, the host of this annual charity gala. And normally, his current stance would either intimidate or utterly charm whoever it was directed at— but not this pantsuit-clad blond warrior. Her smirk merely widened, and her blue eyes took on a slight shade of teal as if trying to mimic the dangerous ocean depths.

“I am Chloe Bourgeois, the daughter of Andre Bourgeois, the mayor of Paris, and Audrey Bourgeois, the Style Queen. It’s nice to meet you again, Monsieur Wayne,” she introduced herself imperiously. “I also happen to be the best friend of the girl you were just staring at.”

Bruce nodded, but had trouble reconciling this clear powerhouse of a woman with the bratty and entitled preteen he had met years ago, at the last gala she had attended with her mother. “Of course, I didn’t recognize you at first Chloe. You’ve grown a lot since the last Gala I saw you at.”

Chloe wrinkled her nose, clearly not appreciating the reminder. “I was a bitch,” she admitted easily, seemingly not at all bothered by the confession. It caused not only Bruce but also the oldest three of his sons, who had all also met her in the past, to blink in silent shock. “Things have changed. Paris is apparently the perfect chaotic environment right now to promote emotional growth and smack spoiled kids over the head with reality,” she shrugged. Part of the reason her and her whole class had even been able to come to the Gala in the first place was the fact that Bruce wanted to offer the most attacked group of Parisians a respite and some support from their crazy lives. The fact that even Gotham seemed sane in comparison to Paris was a bit of a hard hit for both involved parties, but in the end everyone understood that “more sane” didn’t always equate with “less dangerous.” Considering all that, Chloe had no reason to sugarcoat the situation in her home city. “But it wasn’t easy at all, and Marinette was largely responsible for my improvement too.”

“Marinette?” The heathen who somehow got away with attending a gala in a black leather jacket over a dress shirt and suit pants asked, raising a brow. Chloe nodded.

“The girl you were just goggling at. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the class president and resident workaholic. Does she ever sleep? Nobody knows,” Chloe shrugged.

The blue-suited man, Dick Grayson, shot a suspicious glance at Tim, who was standing to his right, as if he was worried his brother had made a female clone of himself just so he could continue to work hard and never rest. Tim ignored him and sipped from the thermos of coffee he had somehow snuck in.

Bruce cleared his throat to bring the focus back onto himself, and shot his most charming smile at Chloe. “They would have known who she was, if they had read the brief information I gave them about your class. But they never do listen to me,” he complained with good humor. “But back to the original topic, Miss Bourgeois, do you care to correct us on how our observations are lacking?”

Chloe laughed easily, smiling and nodding to indicate Marinette, still stuck in a circle of socialites and not seeming the least bit worn out.

“Of course. First; She is not completely acting. She really is like magic sometimes— disgustingly kind, generous, far too willing to help just about anyone for just about any reason. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever met, as much as it pains me to admit it. But she is exaggerating her personality a bit and hiding the parts she doesn’t want anyone to see, so there is a little acting involved. Just not as much as you seem to think,” Chloe then waved her arm in a flourish as if she were presenting Marinette to them. “In short; behold Mari Dupain-Cheng, the ridiculously likeable, disgustingly cute, extremely philanthropic mask that she shows everyone at public events like this. You don’t see any of the insomnia, or the anxiety, or the self doubt. Just the parts she wants you to see, accompanied with a smile to blind you to everything else,” her all-too-deep blue eyes settled back on Bruce then, a knowing glint shining in them. “Don’t you think that’s ridiculously similar to Brucie Wayne for you, Monsieur? Utterly, ridiculously, similar?”

Bruce grit his teeth. He hadn’t expected anyone else to know about his exceptionally well hidden secret, not even his kids had caught on or found his buried evidence yet. Yet his heiress comes up, nearly flaunting her knowledge in his face with all too many unspoken questions and criticisms.

And her cryptic words had succeeded in making all of his kids look at him with extreme suspicion. Shit.

“What are you saying, Miss Bourgeois?” he cautiously prodded. She hummed noncommittally before dropping the bomb all too casually;

“I’m saying I’ve seen her adoption papers, and you won’t be able to run from her for long Monsieur Wayne. As soon as she gets an opening, she’s going to pounce,” Chloe’s eyes glittered dangerously again. “And nowadays, Marinette doesn’t ever let people escape her. Your problem with adoption has created a rather unique problem, you know. You’re at fault for a large majority of her self confidence issues, and I want you to know that I am not going to forget or forgive that anytime soon.”

“Bruce,” Jason’s voice was dark and threatening. “What is she talking about?”

“Something we don’t want getting in the tabloids,” Yet another new voice popped up, allowing Chloe to smugly sink back into the background.

Somewhere during their discussion, Marinette had ambushed them.

“Chloe and I are very good at locating all the reporters in a room and distracting them, but we’re not infallible and this event has far too much coverage,” Her smile reeked confidence and charm, but this close all the Waynes could see the doubt hiding in her bluebell eyes. “Since I’m about to turn eighteen, I figured this would be as good a time as any to finally confront you. I want to make it clear that I seek nothing from you, except the occasional contact. I would like to keep in touch, if nothing else. But if you are adverse to that… then at least answer my questions after the gala,” her eyes developed a hint of carefully controlled desperation. “Please.”

Bruce met her eyes evenly, trying to read her. But she was difficult, simultaneously too many emotions to sort through in her demeanor and much too little. After an extremely tense moment of silence, his voice came out barely above a whisper:

“You do not want anybody to know?”

And hell, if she didn’t recognize the hidden vulnerability in his voice as the very same she heard in her own far too often. In a much tamer version of her own rambling, he went on:

“I can keep it silent if that is what you want. But I want you to know that I will not be adverse to you admitting it anywhere. I don’t expect you to change your name, but I would not be ashamed of the truth getting out. I am not ashamed of it, of you.”

Marinette’s smile grew a little watery. She had to clear her throat to keep herself from tearing up. “Maybe eventually, but not yet. I… I want to stay a little more anonymous for now. It’s one thing to be a well known designer with good connections. It’s an entirely different thing to be…”

“A Wayne?” Bruce finished, ignoring the daggers that were being stared into his back. “I understand completely.

“Father,” Damian’s voice was all sharp edges and rapidly suppressed panic. “What. Is going. On?”

Marinette shot him an apologetic smile. “Apparently, eighteen years ago, his prerogative was to put the child he actually knew about up for adoption when the mother died in childbirth,” her voice was once again only barely loud enough for them to hear, since she didn’t want any eavesdroppers. “Imagine my surprise when I find out he completely flipped sides only months later.”

--*--*--*--*--*

Hey, so please share your feedback on this. This is just to test out a possible new bio dad, multichapter fic and this is the opening scene I'm trying out. If you like it, please tell me what you like about it and please suggest titles for the story! I love you guys' feedback so much!

[may-fanfic]

hello, I’m not sure if requests are open, but I was wondering it you could do a Wanda x reader where the reader doesn’t like being yelled at or just hates hearing yelling in general and Wanda is always super gentle and soft with R and one day the team is arguing or being loud or something and R freaks out and Wanda is there to comfort? love your writing :)

Above And Beyond 

summary: after an argument between the Avengers, wanda is there for you when your anxiety gets the best of you 

warnings: anxiety, mentions of triggers and dead loved ones, arguing. 

word count: 1,126

a/n:  soft!wanda is the best wanda! hope you enjoy, anon. 💕

((feel free to send in any request you may have 💕)) 

masterlist 

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the yells in the meeting shook the walls and you tried your best to come up with a way to relax. you understood where everyone was coming from but screaming at each other would never settle anything. "guys." you tried softly but no one even batted an eye towards you as they continued down each other's throats. it made you shake harder with every passing second, you just wanted this to end so you could go back to the safety of your room.

you often hated how fragile you could become, you knew that as an Avenger, you were expected to handle certain things but this was always something you could never overcome. the panic in you seemed to spring out of control when steve slammed his hand against the desk. your shaking became more prominent than ever. you felt so small at that moment, you could feel your heart in your throat as tears clouded your vision.

wanda quickly took notice of your uncomfortable state, a frown tugging at her lips. she wanted to reach out and tell you that everything would be okay, she knew that if she had the chance to get her to focus on you, you'd be able to calm down but before she could even move her seat over to you, you jumped up from your chair and left the room in a hurry.

that was when the team seemed to settle down at the sound of the door slamming shut. wanda quickly followed behind, hot on your trail as she called out your name softly. you and wanda had been friends for the better part of a year, she knew all about your past and your triggers. she was always mindful when it came to you, making sure that she'd never do anything to gain a traumatic response, she never wanted you to feel how you felt right now because of her.

the pure panic in you seemed to come to stop when wanda peeked her head into your room. she had a gentle smile on her lips, inching farther into your room without permission. she knew she was always welcomed in your room so she didn't even bother asking, she was sure that you needed her right now. "it's a lot down there." you spoke softly when wanda came to lay down next to you on your bed. "I know." she hummed, her hand coming up to tuck hair out of your face. her gaze was gentle, the hand coming to caress your cheek softly.

you had still been shaking like a leaf even when wanda tugged you into her. you tried to settle down beside her, resting your head on her chest. you listened to the calming sound of her heart thumping against her as her hands played softly in your hair. "you know what my mom used to do when I got like this?" she asked softly causing you to adjust your head so your chin rested in between her breast. "what?" you croaked out softly as she smiled, her thumb tracing lines into your cheek.

"she'd sing to me." the thought of wanda singing to you made a soft giggle erupt from your throat, she couldn't help as her grin widened."it would always help," she added, thinking back to the fond memories of her mother.

wanda had her mom's gentle spirit, she took after her mom in many ways. she was sure if it wasn't for the woman who raised her, she'd turn into some heartless monster but her mom showed her how to have too much compassion and empathy for other people. she hoped she could be half the woman her mom was. "we..." you paused for a moment shyly, examined the girl's gentle expression before moving back to your position over her chest, the sound of her heart once again your focus.

"We can try that," you added, if you were honest, the thought of Wanda's soft voice singing to you set off a thousand little butterflies in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't be more excited to hear her. 

"Okay, dorogoy," she whispered, she thought back to the soft Russian lullaby her mother would sing to her every night before bed, and despite the number of years that it had been since her mom last sang it, she still knew every word.

you nuzzled into her when she began singing, focusing on her soft raspy voice, her hand stroking your back. as she sang, she thought about the fact that her mother would be proud of her for everything she accomplished so far in her short life. she missed her family more than ever. she hoped they had been somewhere far better than here, they deserved the best.

as she neared the end, her eyes burned with tears but now she could hardly feel any type of shake in your body and it left her feeling at ease. she was glad she could help. "you know..." wanda whispered when she finished. your eyes had been closed and you refused to move from your comfortable position so you hummed back in response. "I'll always be here to protect you." you knew that already but the girl's confirmation still left you feeling warm.

"you don't need to run... whenever something is overwhelming or scary. we'll face it together," she added softly causing you to melt completely. you knew you loved wanda that much had been clear and the longer you thought about it, you knew she loved you too. "you'll never be alone." she hummed out. you moved once again to look up at the woman, noticing the usual soft expression that had been spread out on her face. she only looked at you this way.

wanda was always tough with other people, she couldn't help but have a soft spot in her heart for you. there wasn't anything she wouldn't do to ensure that you were happy. "I got you, always," she uttered with a smile, you stared blankly at her for a moment, she turned confused about the sudden intensity of your stare. she didn't have to wonder for long because in a flash you push yourself up to gently push your lips against hers.

Wanda reacted in an instant, her lips moved in sync with yours. your hands moved to cup the woman's cheeks deepening the kiss desperately.  you could feel every ounce of love and built-up tension melt away into the kiss. you knew now that wanda was everything you needed, she was kind and understanding and you knew that down the line she'd treat you exactly how you needed her to.

as wanda kissed you, you couldn't be more grateful for the team's arguing.