#sparkles are primarily tiny things

[tokiponizing-posts]

jan Imactuallyagiraffe:

a, o pilin ike ala. kasi suli li kama tan ma.

lili suno li lon sewi pimeja pi tenpo mun

soweli li lon kasi.

hey don’t cry. trees grow out of the ground.

[tetsunabouquet]

Zero Kiryu- His soft, cute side (Headcanon)

A/N: Hereby I will cover Zero, as the request was for both the Kiryu twins. You can find the one for Ichiru here.

-As a little boy he used to sleep with a white stuffed rabbit. -Zero likes holding something when he sleeps. He'll hold onto anything that's within the reach of his arms. Which is why his parents got him the rabbit because he would never let go of Ichiru. This was all fine and dandy until one time where Ichiru couldn't wake his brother up when he was sick and he ended up vomiting over Zero. -Actually loves cute stuff. Animals, babies, cure girls, its his weakness. There are tiny little instances of him being attracted in a sense to things that are cute and innocent. The reason behind this is tragic however. Because he was robbed of his childhood, and could never go back to feeling like a regular kid again after the event with Shizuka. His inner child is craving the comfort that cute things provide. -He keeps the photos Kaien made of him and Ichiru to himself as dear treasures. -On that topic, he also created a photo album of baby Ren because he deep down regretted that the Headmaster never knew his second grandchild and he knew Kaien would have wanted to make a photo album if he had been there. -As an adult, he secretly misses having a pet sometimes. It doesn't have to be a horse again, but he would certainly have liked to own an animal or two. After Kaien's death, he mostly thinks about wanting a cat to keep the headmaster's love for kitty aesthetics with him somehow. -One time during an arts and crafts project Ai made for Zero on Father's Day when she was little, she seriously overdid it with the glitter. His clothes were still carrying glitter traces by the time he had to go to work. The other hunters sure sniffled behind his back at the sight of the sparkles. -Considering the amount of time he spent babysitting AI and the fact he promised to play house with Ren and AI (something we never see Yuki do), its safe to say Zero is the one who primarily plays games with the kids. He would even allow them to dress him up or 'do his hair and make-up' if they pouted cutely enough. -Which is why I think that there was at least one time where he had to pretend to be an evil dragon, with Ai playing princess and Ren playing the brave knight rescuing her sister from the tower. -If Aido wasn't babysitting during the playdates between Ai and Seiya, then Zero was. -Considering Seiya has a niece, this means he also had a younger sibling and I bet Zero was Aido's preferred babysitter for his 2nd child because Zero had already proven himself as a capable babysitter. -Whenever young Ren needed new clothes, it would be Ai and Zero to take her on a shopping trip. -I also think that Zero would often accompany Yuki had time to read Ren bedtime stories. He would always fall asleep beside his daughter, and Yuki thought it was too cute of a scene to wake him up.

[hanatagami]

Twilight Characters with a GN! Light Fairy Reader

Twilight cullens with a light fairy reader. The fairies are based off of fate the winx saga ones, just because their powers are pretty cool. The show kinda sucks tho, but im an original winx fan so im a little protective of the original lmao. I might do other fairy types as well, and maybe with more characters idk yet

Edward Cullen

this man is. SO enraptured by you and your entire existence. He truly believes with all his heart you don’t belong with him, and it’s honestly kind of heart-breaking.

your like a symbol of everything he isn’t and he can’t help but remark to himself about the irony of it all.

ur a creature of the light, he can’t let others see him in light at risk of death by volturi. You have a temporary life-span(albeit long), he is immortal. ur whole existence is to be loved by nature, and he is supposed to be the top of the food chain predator.

ur the exact opposite of like everything he loathes about himself, why would you even consider being with him

but he gazes in awe of the way you can hold light in your palms, how the light hits your face and enhances every perfection, that you seem to almost glow in it, your entire aura radiating inviting warmth.

he just can’t seem to pull himself away from you, despite how much he believes you don’t belong together. he would be a fool to reject your love

he loves to play piano and watch you dance in the light peeking through the windows, orbs of light dancing around with you like a thousand tiny personal spotlights

the way he could watch you in your guyses meadow forever, you sitting amongst the flowers showing off by making a tiny rainbow in your hands, a little light show. the indescribable warmth he feels as all the colors hit your smiling face, he knows you have him wrapped around your finger, but he doesn’t want it any other way

dont even get me started on when he sees your wings. i imagine wings of light fairies are wings that are never the same color from one second to the next. your wings fluctuate from all colors of the light spectrum and to see you fly with them is like the most magical thing hes ever seen in his 100 something years of life

any comfort or desire you have on behalf of yourself or fairy traits, like maybe stones that absorb sun energy, plants for nature, literally anything, he’s pulling out that edward cullen card and buying everything

he would definitely buy plants anyways. he likes to see you bend rays of light and things to tend to the plants and it just makes him so happy

theres a fun little game you play, where you turn invisible and he tries to find you in the forest via your thoughts and other senses. when he finds you, he gives you a cheeky smile and a kiss. it’s kinda fun when he thinks he found you but your actually behind him or smth, you get to spook him a little and its very funny to see

Emmett Cullen

this little shit

to be honest i don’t think he’d notice your a fairy until you told him

but when he found out he was like “sick”

he’s suddenly very cautious physically, thinks you might be very frail or squish easy

until you tell him that absorbing the light makes you stronger so it’s fine

he’s very curious to see the capabilities and limits you have as a fairy. primarily, are you stronger then a human? if so he kinda wants to wrestle you

see whose stronger. his pride might be a little damaged if your able to win, he’d mumble something about a vampire being weaker then a fairy isn’t very cool, but i think he warms up to the thought very quickly and begins to find it kick ass

wants to see if you could beat jasper and edward in a fight too, and if you win he’s gonna be so proud of you

he feels like a very good match to you. while it isn’t necessarily super cool that vampires sparkle, he loves that in a way it matches you

orbs of light surrounding you like a bunch of stars, casting light on him and making him sparkle, like you guys are the lights of each others life or smth romantic like that

he’s not a poet

but he can’t help but grin cockily when you create a small orb in your hands just to watch how his hands and arms sparkle, he’s suddenly very proud with his sparkling ability

he’s asking-no begging- for you to pick him up and fly him around forks or the forest or anything. he wants to fly, jumping high isn’t the same

and you dont have to be afraid of dropping him! he’ll be fine!

you have to be careful, cause sometimes he’s a little too proud of you, he might accidentally spill a secret to someone while bragging about you

like “you should see how they look when playing with the light” and your like “EMMETT SHHH-” and just hope they think he’s talking about a ringlight or lighting in a picture or smth

he truly understands nothing on how fairies work, might buy a couple of scam things online on accident, in hopes of them being of some use to you

your vampire boyfriend just thinks your so cool, he wants to pick you up by the waist and hold up in front of everyone and go “look at my fairy s/o, aren’t they cool”

jasper hale

now major whitlock over here

he’s kinda like edward, he’s done a lot of bad in his life, something as innocent as a fairy truly can’t be into him

though its hard not to interact with someone who feels such a strong love for him

he doesn’t even have to feel it, cause you can show it via bright pink lights

you don’t allow him to brood on it to much

you do help him adress his past faults tho

he’s not proud of being in the confederate army, and thats something you had to establish very early on in the relationship

he helps you with magic training when you tell him emotions play into magic output

he feels this very innocent joy at being able to enhance your powers via boosting certain emotions

like the light you produce together is a product of your love, its a very wholesome feeling

he likes seeing how emotions effect your powers, how the colors change, fluctuating between a couple shades of one color depending on the emotions

how they differ in brightness, sadness being more dim, but things like happiness and anger being ridiculously bright

the light even moves differently, sometimes being more flowy and graceful, others being more fast and jagged

he’s kind of a history buff, so he is so interested in the history of fairies

the traditions and customs, and how they came to be

he could literally sit and listen to you talk about it all day, how fairies have had impacts on the world and human history that they had no idea about

how myths and legends of old are because someone saw a fairy, you being able to tell the full truthful stories and make them sound so interesting

he always compared alice to a fairy, but now that he knows one, he can’t help laugh to himself whenever you guys talk to each other

thinking as to how he was right in some areas, wrong in others

please let him dance with you

he wants to teach you so bad

swing dancing, line dancing, literally anything please

like swing dancing can be so intricate now cause he can literally throw you and you can do stuff in the air

the country man in him is so excited

he would show off if he had any country friends still alive from then

Carlisle Cullen

is curious in the medical facts of fairies fepoefsj

kinda cant help it, he;s been a doctor so long, and its mostly him wondering if you get injured if he can help you the same way he does humans

because he’s seen a lot of pain in people, and if what he usually does can’t help you like it did them, it might distress him a little

will feel much better when you enlighten on the best way to care for a fairy

also interest in hearing about the political dynamics of fairy kind

mostly if their anything like the volturi and if he should be concerned about them knowing about you

loves to see you interact with his children, you seem to be very wise and in tune with the feelings of others

you would very quickly become another parent to them, and it was clear you had final word in the house fepskf

loves when you surprise in his office at work by suddenly appearing out of thin air

or when he’s working and suddenly feels a kiss on his cheek and nothing else

the nurses all giggling at the joyful smile on his face, not knowing its because his s/o came for a single second just for a kiss before letting him get back to work, it makes his day that much better

hunting could be a little easier with your synergy with animals, but he would never ask that of you

loves to see you try on clothes, using your powers to view outfits at different light levels and angles

thinks your flawless in all of them, so be careful if your trying clothes on at the store

he’d buy the entire store-

considered buying you an entire forest too, but you claimed the forest belonged to the earth so he didn’t

you force the entire family out to secluded places in the woods and other places when its sunny, wanting to share its good energy with your family

the sight of his family playing around with each other in the sun, lead by his most favorite person makes him feel like he could take on the entire volturi

and yeah the volturi kinda see you as a threat, your powers alone could reveal a lot of vampire even at night

but they wont do anything at the risk of a species based war, they know so little about fairies that killing you and potentially making others angry could be very dangerous

plus the promise of a temporary, although very long, life length reassures them a little

carlisle would worship like you floated down from the sun and directly into his arms like some sort of celestial being

and he told you that, and the way your face and eyes lit up made him swear he’d never stop saying things like that to you

[idiotwithanipad]

Era Swap AU: New home

Myself and @shebeafancyflapjack may have conjoured up another AU👀 what started out as a simple era swap drawing I did months back has ballooned until THIS thing😂

(Note: Altered timeline; Mary is Humphrey's age in this, meaning they were both in their forties in the 1570's)

Ft alternate versions of my OC Amy and her OC Silver

"Hark! There's been another burnings!" The parish crone cried as she limped through the tiny houses and cottages, waving her shillelagh out in front of her like a sword.

"Mummy?..." The contented peasant daughter seemed concerned and out of sorts after watching the knobbly kneed old woman scurry past their window.

Mary, standing before a small cauldron of cooking stew stared down into the flames, her hand trembling as she placed the wooden ladle back into the simmering mixture. She sucked in her lower lip and her brow furrowed with concern.

"Mummy, did's thou hears the crone?"

Yes, yes I did. Loud and clear. Mary smeared her hands down her ashy apron to rid them of the remaining juices of onion, fennel and turnip, and scurried over to a little wooden shelf mounted beneath an ivy strewn window.

A Bible sat upright at the center, upon moving the book aside, a tiny collection of dried herbs and bayleaves lie in small wooden bowls. The girl couldn't yet see her mother's complete concern and urgency, and she pushed herself from her stool and rushed to the older woman's side.

"Are we to practice our craft more, mummy? I do still need to works on my-"

"Darling girl, make haste, go to mummy's bed and brings back with thee two little tie bags"

The frenzied mother had nothing but sheer panic in her sparkling eyes as she patted against the girl's back to send her along.

The girl did so. Jogging briskly through a wooden door and pulling from beneath the feather pillow, two draw string sachels no bigger than an apple. Returning quickly to the rest of the tiny cottage which was primarily one large kitchen, she handed over the two bags, watching with morbid curiosity as her mother haphazardly and clumsily added herb after herb, leaf after leaf to each bag.

"Mummy, your face hath changed to a ghostly whites. Are you ill?" The girl risked pressing the back of her hand to her mother's perspiring forhead. Mother jerked her head aside to avoid any contact. The girl grew confused and drew her hand back.

Some tiny shavings of dried lavender and sage fell from the woman's fingers and she handed one of the bags to the girl.

"Sweet'art, says thy blessings into this bag. Will it, darling girl, will it strongs"

The girl looked down into the bag curiously before her mother's palm rested sweetly against her cheek to lift her gaze.

"If thou hath to imagines a pretty pink cloud wrapping thou up tights, do so"

The girl rose an uncertain brow.

"Tighter than thy hugs?.."

"Tighter than mummy's hugs, darling girl"

Both Mary and daughter closed their eyes and invisioned a shield around them, strong enough to dispell steel and flame. Mary sent a kiss to the air and drew the strings of her bag closed. Coppied by the girl.

"What was that for, Mummy? We's in no dangers of devils" The girl prompted. Mary tucked the pouch into her sleeve and wandered back over to the pot of stew.

"No, darling. Tonight will be's t' last night we do spend in the parish..." Her voice was morose and unsure.

The girl gasped.

"But, Mummy?!- Da did build this house with the bones of his own hands! He did grow our gardens, he did-"

"Da be with t' angels now, darling girl! He be not of 't flesh to assist! We's in dangers here! If t' peoples do catch eye of our crafts, they'd have us burned!" Mary fretted, spinning on her leather shoes to clutch her daughter by the shoulders.

"I's already under the watchful eyes of the Squire! They do blames me for your Da's passings! We must leave!"

The girl planted her feet, determined to spread her roots down through the earth to stay here.

"We's innocents, Mummy! We's done nought wrongs!"

"We's waited here too longs! We must away to starts a new lifes. We's still have our crafts and our Lords and Ladies above, but we may no longer seeks them here, girl. We must flee" Mary pressed a sympathetic hand to her daughter's cheek.

Daughter was about to protest, parting her lips to speak, but ran short and released a defeated and heart broken sigh.

"We's eats our dinners, says our prayers, and waits until the parish falls silent. Once they all be sleepings and t' candles no longer aflame, we will pack our baskets and sets off" Mary said, sorrow and regret flowing in her voice.

Mary attempted a smile, but her lip trembled and she pressed her fingertips to her brow as though in pain. She stepped to the side, clutching to her daughter's hands, and lowered herself onto a stool, looking up at the girl.

"I is truly sorry, my sweet'art. Mummy should've broken t' cake 'pon her own 'ead. Then the Squire not be breathin's down mummy's neck. Then we's not hath to do this. Forgive me, darling girl" Mary wept, pressing a kiss to the girl's knuckles.

--

Nightfall. The frogs and crickets orchestrated their melodies in the misty grass. The girl had fallen asleep at the dinner table, her head nestled in her folded arms. The warmth of the large candles beside her on the wood, wax flowling down into tiny falls. Mary's hand stroked tenderly at her shoulder.

"We must be toddling off now, darling. Says your goodbyes"

The girl's eyes fluttered open as she sat up in her stool. The cottage was dark. The fireplace reduced to tiny glowing embers, the candles on the shelves extinguished. All that remained was the three candles at the table. With a sullen sigh, the girl plucked one candle from the table and took it with her, saying sweet goodbyes and blessings to each room, even the room reserved for the stool.

She returned promptly and blew out the candles. Mary reached into one of the two large baskets she carried in arm and produced a thick, woolen shawl. She wrapped it around her daughter's shoulders and clutched her hand. Outside in the night, the girl turned her head back towards the dark silhouette of the home.

"Follow us from t' heavens, Da. Stay not be'ind. Follow. Follow forever~"

Southbound. Mary followed a distinctive star in the black sky. Her dearly departed John had noted that star and where it would lead. Just follow the star.

--

Five days of walking and traveling landed Mary and her young Silver in a township. Tiny markets and stalls littered around selling rugs, tapestries, fruit, vegetables, tools and wheels for carts. As well as feathered livestock; chickens, ducks, geese and quails. A welcomed change from fields upon fields upon fields.

Silver's eyes glossed over everything in wonder and Mary gripped her wrist so she wouldn't stray too far. A similarly dressed woman in a faded grey gown and apron wandered by the preening chickens and reached into her basket. From the basket, she retrieved a handful of golden coins! And she was dressed like THAT! Where did she get it?

Mary couldn't help but watch the woman. She held a calm air and a contented aura. She was no thief; if that were the case, she's be sweating like an overfed pig in the August sun. The stall attendant scrambled to grab a chicken from behind the wooden fence. A short while later, the chicken, free of a head, was wrapped in a canvas bag and handed to the woman.

"What's wrong, Mummy?"

Mary shook her head and blinked, keeping her eyes on the woman.

"Oh, nothing, dear girl. Just seen somethings interestings..."

Mary absentmindedly followed the woman as she wandered casually through the crowds, gently tugging Silver behind her. Once majority of the people were behind them, Mary called out.

"Miss, m'lady?.."

The woman's bonnet turned and she faced the peasant. She looked surprised. She could immediately detect a heavy accent. They must be travelers.

"May I assist, miss?"

Mary shuffled lightly and glanced down at the canvas bag the woman held.

"Me's just ponderin's on where thy did come to afford such stocks?" Mary mumbled, gestureing shly towards the bagged chicken.

The maid-looking woman caught onto Mary's glance and chuckled.

"Oh. Miss, don't misunderstand. This is not my money which I carry. T'is the money of my Lord Bone's. I am but a maid" The woman explained with a smile.

"My Lord and Lady are busy this day, this was a mere errand"

She's a servant? Employed? Greatly employed?

"Be there- be there any space for ground workings?"

"I believe so. T'is a large estate with many an acre. Should you like to follow me and I will enquire for thee?"

The most hope Mary had felt in days, flowed through her veins like heavenly flames. She threw an excited glance over to Silver who looked clueless, attempting to glance back over her shoulder at the fluttering chickens in their pen.

The maid woman walked beside Mary, answering any questions which were asked. How many Squires the estate held. If there were any cows. Pastures for growing crops. The woman was good company, surprisingly. Although most of their conversation was ignored by Silver, who, now free from the amount of people in the market, wandered from Mary's hand and took the rear. Brushing her hands along the leaves on the bushes and watching the birds fly from the trees above.

When Silver's feet began to throb and she felt about ready to pull her own ankles from her legs herself, the earthy road turned to deeply pressed cart tracks in the soil. Numerous tracks, each one distinct and splattered in unique ways.

Mary turned around and gathered Silver's attention, a hopeful grin on her tinted cheeks.

--

The land of the estate was large, large enough to fit the old parish into it, possibly more than once. Centered between tall trees and vast fields of green, the large house sat like a slumbering giant. Silver instinctively jogged to keep at Mary's side as her eyes darted around at their surroundings.

The maid asked of Mary to wait at the threshold, before heading through the door leaving it ajar. Mary turned to Silver and sighed.

"Darling girl, we mays get a chance now. We may find incomes if it does go smooth"

Silver couldn't refuse or deny the happiness and hope in her mother's eyes. They sparkled again after so many days now, and she couldn't help but smile back and give a happy nod.

In a short time, the maid returned. As she pulled open the door wider, she revealed the shape of a large gown. A new woman, clearly affluent and stiff, stood partially shielded by the doorframe. A French hood lined her stoic face like a cotton halo.

The maid gave a polite bow of her head and explained the situation once more to the new woman. The affluent woman gave a brief glance from Mary's skirt to her face, then to the girl stood beside her.

"M'lady, might M'lord be privy to the matter?" The maid suggested, hoping to add levity to the uncomfortably silent situation. Mary could've cut the tension with a knife, until the woman turned her eyes to the maid and agreed.

"Oui.."

The woman turned and began to drift away from the door, the maid bowed her head once again before happily inviting Mary and the child inside. Both peasant woman gazed at every intricate detail of the numerous hanging tapestries, the polished handrails leading up the narrow stairs, the even and only slightly creaky floorboards.

Silver's eyes glanced at anything she passed, taking in the beauty and energies. The maid lead them up some right stairs which creaked the loudest, the walls seemed more closed in compared to the downstairs. The fine dressed woman and the maid, and the awestruck peasants were taken into a smaller room, still sizable, about the size of the old cottage's kitchen.

"Humphrey?..." The fancy woman called, some kind of accent dangling heavily against her tongue as she spoke. What followed was what could only be described as a frightened and pained yelp. Silver glanced past her mother's shoulder at a man adorned in a thick red cloak lined with dark fur. He wore a white ruff about his neck and bore a thick head of brown hair and a goatee beneath a moustache.

He sloppily shook his hand briskly before rubbing his finger against his doublet. He looked caught out and embarrassed. His cheeks tinted beneath a sheepish grin.

"Sorry, dear. Just adjusting the candles"

Silver held back an amused chuckle. The man stepped closer, the awkward smile still on his face. The woman, the man's wife gave a short and unimpressed sigh.

"Have we need for groundskeepers?" She spoke in her heavy accent. The man quickly put two and two together and straightened.

"Oh! Oh you mean like, a gardener?"

Silver felt as Mary's fingers tightened around her hand, a sign of high hopes and a hidden excitement.

The maid and the higher woman gave nods.

"Uh, hello dear lady, what be your name?" The cloaked man asked tentatively as he stepped closer.

"Uh, my name be Mary and this be my daughter, Silver" Mary grinned, gesturing to her girl who gave a polite curtsy.

The man grinned, he seemed taken to Mary already, like she was the cutest thing he'd ever seen. Like her aura was infectious. The man gave a bow back, chuckling.

"Good day to you, ladies"

'I likes 'im' Silver thought to herself.

Silver's eyes drifted once again when 'adult' words and phrases were thrown out. She glanced at the candles and the windows and the chairs, all very fine and sturdy. Just as the man was enviting Mary and herself a seat at the table, a shrill noise broke over the chatter.

It sounded like a high pitched crone, a lunatic, a lamb mid slaughter. Everybody's shoulders jolted at the nearby cackle as though trying to avoid a diving bird. The man's face switched from jovial to concerned, pressing his palms to the table and pushing himself up.

"Please, M'lord. Remain here, I shall tend to the young mistress" The maid said gently, bowing her head and jogging from the room.

His face still held a concerned grimace, whereas his wife simply looked mortified and humiliated, like somebody had just smashed an egg on her head.

The man couldn't seem to find the words as he kept glancing over his shoulder towards the doorway. A laugh, an unmistakable and crazed giggle grew closer, followed by footsteps. One pair sounded hurried and urgent while the other pair sounded sloppy and uneven.

The maid reappeared in the room, bringing with her another girl. The maid held her hands firmly on the giggling girl, one planted firmly against the girl's shoulder and the other hand gripping her wrist. The girl's fingers were covered in blood, and as they passed, the candle light caught against the reflection of a huge number of sewing needles standing upright from her palm and fingers, stuck into her flesh.

Mary almaot gasped and covered her lips, but bit her tongue and averted her gaze instead. But Silver, mortified and puzzled, watched as the girl was pushed through the room.

"Young Amy, you and your mother spoke about this" The maid berated under her breath.

The girl only glanced back over her shoulder at the maid, her blue eyes wide and crazed.

"I was bored, Trudy. I was only bored! Hahaha!"

The girl's wild cackle echoed through the halls and faded away the further they went. Silver turned her eyes back to the table. The man looked ready to leap from his chair and flee after the maid and the girl. The woman shook her head.

"Uh- uh so- umm..." The man muttered, distracted. The woman spoke up for him.

"Oui. You may"

Mary couldn't quite make out that first word and looked back to the man.

"Uh, yes. You- you may take employment if that's your choice, my dear" The man managed a smile and nodded to Mary. Yet his eyes quickly shone back to concern regarding his deeply disturbed teen.

[nightingaletrash]

TELL US MORE ABOUT THE BABY

Okie, so her name is Tala. She was conceived on the trip to the Arbor Wilds, but was only 'discovered' after Lyris returned from the Frostback Basin. So there was the fun realisation that she'd been pregnant while venturing through the Deep Roads and fighting a possessed dragon lmao

She was born in Wycome and was delivered by Keeper Deshanna, who performed the typical rites and rituals to induct the newborn into the clan as one of the Dalish. Lyris also made a point to bring her to the Vhenadahl in the Alienage and receive blessings from the Hahren because if there was one thing Lyris learned, it was that too many elves - Dalish and City - felt like they were entirely different peoples, and she wanted to try to promote some kind of unity, to remind them all that they are of the same people regardless of circumstance. There ended up being a celebration amongst the elves over the new arrival, and the party lasted for hours before mother and baby were exhausted and needed to retire.

During the time before Trespasser, Tala grew up primarily in Skyhold. As she became more mobile, she made a habit of hiding and jumping out at staff, soldiers and visiting dignitaries before running away laughing and she loves to spend time in the garden hunting for bugs and worms, and eating dirt as tiny children often do.

Krem stitches her new toys from time to time. So far she has a nug with wings, a golden halla, a griffon with a crooked tail, and a dragon that breathes fire (aka Dagna figured out a way to make the dragon spit out illusionary sparkles when it's squeezed and Tala still isn't sick of it).

She learns to speak Elvhen, Qunlat, Antivan, and a little Orlesian, and everyone anticipates that she's definitely going to be a mage, given that her mother and father are both mages and powerful ones at that, so there's plenty of discussion about her training. Lyris intends to stick to Dalish tradition on that front. Once the basics are covered, the others can give their own input, but Tala needs a solid base without any mixed messages.

And when it comes to Solas, no one is allowed to openly detract him in front of Tala. They don't need to sing his praises, but Tala deserves to form her own opinion of her father and not be spoonfed criticism. And if anyone's ever asked about where he went and why he never came back, the official answer is 'I don't know, but we assume it's very important'.

After Trespasser plays out and Skyhold is carefully defanged, Lyris takes Tala to live in Kirkwall where she takes up her role as Comtesse, though they make plenty of trips to Wycome over the years. Lyris tells Tala the truth about Solas being Fen'Harel and that he left for an important mission, but certain details are withheld on account of her age and Lyris' hope that Solas' mind can be changed and he can still come back to be Tala's father. She'll be told more as she gets older, but it's very piecemeal.

By the time Dreadwolf comes around, she'll be nearly eight years old and probably have just come into her magic within the last year or so with Lyris and Merrill as her primary teachers. When she tells her mother about the strange wolf watching her in her dreams, she learns that her mother has the same dreams, and that its Solas watching over them from the Fade, never drawing close because they could tempt him to abandon his path.

Solas has known about Tala the whole time, having learned about Lyris' pregnancy from dreams and his spies, and he tries his best to maintain an emotional distance from the child. He doesn't always succeed though, and he watches over her, protecting her in her dreams. On one occasion, he might let her reach him so that he might get the chance to speak to her just once, to let her know him because this is his daughter and he wants to love her even though he can't and if he just allows this one meeting, maybe it will satisfy this terrible yearning in him so that he can focus solely on his path. But he knows that if he meets her once, it might be unbearable to return to that path and he might fail to let go.

Essentially he's torturing himself even more because he loves Lyris so much and he wants to love their child so much, but he loves his people and can he really put his love and their child over the countless souls that he betrayed?

Smash cut to Tala eating dirt and trying to climb into the stable with a drasolisk, which definitely gave poor Master Dennet a heart attack.

[minorisato]

i'll give you an un-experience

transformers / wavewave / wc: 548 / warnings: NSFT / notes: written for kinktober day 22, "cockwarming." TFA S3, pre-"human error" / consider commissioning me!

Soundwave is just so... tiny.

Frankly, it's just ridiculous. For a Decepticon so small, he manages to present such a threat to the Autobot cause- and he manages to win Megatron's favour doing so. It makes the energon running through Shockwave's fuel lines boil, it makes no sense. It shouldn't be any trouble for Shockwave to remain his Lord's most trusted servant, his loyal disciple, and yet, this remains a consistent problem.

Despite so easily gaining his Lord's favour, though, the blue nuisance insists on bother him- he, who is so busy, who has better things to do than waste time indulging the whims of such a pathetic creature.

Again, he can feel himself heating at the mere thought. His servos are shaking. He needs to re-adjust his EM dampeners.

The blue creature is just sitting on his desk, watching Shockwave sort through things- primarily reading and re-reading datapads. Just working. Shockwave wants to knock him off or tell him to shoo, to bother someone else, but he also realizes that reaction would be extreme and unwarranted. In truth, mostly due to Soundwave's small stature and how quiet he can be, he really doesn't pose much of a distraction. The small thing hasn't really done anything wrong. No, he just sits, watching, letting Shockwave work, and Shockwave supposes there isn't really anything wrong about that.

~~~~

It becomes a bit of a habit. Soundwave will watch him work, sitting on Shockwave's desk politefully, quietly. He looks like an imitation of a protoform with his legs dangling off the side of the desk, all tiny bits and pieces. He's about as tall as one of the many datapads strewn about.

And then one day, he isn't.

Don't get Shockwave wrong, Soundwave is still small. He's maybe a third of the larger 'con's size. He barely reaches up to Shockwave's knees, but he is bigger. This is different.

Normally, when Shockwave and the blue bot would sit together, they would not speak. No words would be exchanged- there was a silent agreement to not bug each other. But this was different. It's all different. "Soundwave," the purple mech greets, "you've grown."

Wordlessly, a compartment of some sort opens on Soundwave's chassis, and he retrieves- something. What is that? It's small, rectangular- a cassette. Earth technology? Because he was made on Earth?

"Is this for me?" Shockwave asks, leaning down a bit, extending his claws to grasp for it. Before he can, though, it transforms into a gray and black imitation of an Earthen panther. It hisses at the larger 'con, and Shockwave, surprised, stumbles back, letting out a rather undignified noise. All the anger he felt towards Soundwave suddenly comes rushing back.

The panther-thing jumps out of Soundwave's grasp, trotting around the room- around Shockwave's workspace, and the purple mech is about to start hunting it down before Soundwave speaks. "Soundwave: Has children."

It takes a good klik for Shockwave's internal processes to connect the dots, from "children" to "Earth small creature" to "human small creature" to "human sparkling" to "sparkling." Soundwave has... a sparkling. Multiple sparklings.

For once in his life, Shockwave finds himself cursing his inexpressive frame. Had he optical ridges, they would be furrowed in sheer frustration. "You do not have sparklings."

"Soundwave: Has sparklings," the blue mech simply repeats, swapping out the human term for something more applicable.

Shockwave brings his servos up to his helm, cradling his face. "You do not have sparklings. You don't even know what sparklings are."

"Soundwave: Received gift," he elaborates, "from the other Decepticons. Soundwave: Has sparklings." Shockwave is staring down at the blue mech, really trying to figure out if Soundwave is implying what he thinks he's implying, when Soundwave takes a step forward. "Frenzy: Wants brother. Soundwave: Has run multiple tests. Come to conclusion; Shockwave: Most appropriate sire."

Shockwave stares down at him. He's experiencing something like shock- playing at being an Autobot for so long must have really damaged his EM dampeners, really, because he shouldn't even have a reaction to this. Unfortunately, he does. With a clawed servo, he points to himself. "You want me to...?"

"Shockwave: Most appropriate sire," Soundwave repeats, and is he... blushing?

The purple mech straightens himself, really considering it. Soundwave seems to want it- he wouldn't have approached Shockwave if he didn't. Beyond that, the shorter mech is cute, as much as Shockwave hates to admit such a thing. Beyond that, though, Soundwave has thrown off Shockwave's schedule and his work so badly this cycle that he can't help but think letting out this frustration on the smaller might not be an awful idea. His processor, even, supplies him what feels like the perfect idea, and Shockwave sighs.

"Alright," Shockwave agrees. "I will indulge you. But we will do it my way."

~~~~

Several joors later, Shockwave is glad he agreed to this.

He's managed to get quite a surprising amount of work done, with the little mech in his lap. It was cute, watching him slowly work more and more of Shockwave's spike into his small valve, but what was arguably cuter was how he deteriorated around it, how he devolved into whining and begging and glitched vocals and straining as he asked for the chance to overload, please- he was so polite. Shockwave would not give him this, of course. The small mech would earn no respite until Shockwave caught up with every single bit of work the pathetic thing had distracted him from.

"Please," Soundwave could barely beg, static underlying each and every exvent. "Shockwave: Being- being cruel."

"I'm just working," the larger 'con replied, smug. "You are the one who insists on distracting me."

"S-Soundwave: Did not-" and then his vocals cut out badly, audibly fritzing, and he's forced to take a good klik or two to reset them. His calipers cycle around Shockwave, and it really is a tight fit- not that Shockwave has a problem with that. "Did not come to Shockwave to be tortured."

"Tortured?" Shockwave repeats back, almost laughing. "Oh, nonsense. This isn't even close to torture." Had he an intake, he would be smirking. "If you would like that, however, it can definitely be arranged."

"Soundwave: wants to overload-"

"How about," Shockwave interrupts, vocals low, "you be good, and be quiet and still for the rest of the joor, and maybe, maybe if you are very good I will consider letting you overload." A clawed servo grips at Soundwave's thigh, digging into the plating there. "Can you do that?" Shockwave asks, "Can you be a good mech?"

Again, Soundwave resets his vocals, before letting out a soft, "Yes. Yes, Soundwave- Soundwave: Can be good."

"I thought so," Shockwave tells him, and pats his thigh. "Now stay quiet."

[princerevelucide]

prince rêve lucide (the sona character not real life me) Facts

prince and deity of the stars, lesser deity of sleep, dreams, and rainbows

over a billion years old but still as childish as ever

cheery, energetic, compassionate, silly, and friendly!

socially anxious, lazy, conflict avoidant, forgetful, low confidence...

fear of bugs & spiders, no matter how strong and cool an entity they are!!!!!

the star marks on their cheeks glow in the dark!

they live primarily in a little pocket dimension they carved out for themselves where they live in a fairytale castle in the middle of a small field of blue grass, all decorated in his favourite things

primary divine job is maintaining the stars; rotating them to the right axis, taking on excess magic charge from them, making sure they're not on collision courses with each other, not going to supernova prematurely, not going to destroy innocent worlds if they do need to supernova, assists in the birth of natural stars...

can also create his own stars simply by blowing; one big one like a bubblegum bubble, or many little ones like using a bubble wand!

he even eats stars. they crunch like apples, and taste like raw sugar. (to him, anyway.)

their blood is a dark purple shade, and sparkles faintly when still fresh. turns a bluish shade when dried. also contains trace amounts of helium.

they are able to float and hover, and begin doing so from the ground with a hop, a skip, and a jump!

they are able to fly long distances, more easily so in space due to the lack of air resistance. their physical feathered wings are tiny, but larger wings made of light appear connected to them when they're in use

the large pink ribbon they wear that he calls his 'Bibibon' can magically change his costume depending on where it's positioned on his hair/body. his additional outfits include a masquerade ball (poison), magician (light), magical boy (sound), thunderstorm raincoat (water/electric), pyjamas (sleepy), knight armour (steel/metal), summer swimsuit (water), thick winter coat (snow), and jester (explosions)!

(the summer and winter forms are for style, though. technically, he's immune to temperature. he can feel them, but is not affected by super high or low temperatures.)

the little multicoloured spots on the white fluffy wool of their costumes are actually little sprinkles!

he's a sleepy boy that loves to dream. and as one with divine stakes in sleep, sometimes he falls asleep for days, if not weeks, months, or years at a time...

a gap between some hills in his little home realm and the edge of the pocket dimension's bubble are full to the brim with dream magics, and create a smaller pocket dimension of dreams, mostly just the ones he has himself, that one can wander near infinitely in and do pretty much whatever they want there. staying in there too long can cause lasting physical and mental damage, though. he has no control over what does and doesn't appear in there.

the space pattern inside their clothes is a hammer space, though living things cannot be stored within it.

[brandwhorestarscream]

The team found the Allspark called it in, and they get carried off by Cybermorphs. They don't even get to call it in.

And the fact they're brought to the throne room given energon? They aren't touching it because clearly this is a trap.

And the way Team Prime is huddle togeather, ploting an escape, the Deceptacons are going "on noes the babies have something wrong with them!" Bonus if spark age most of them should still be sparkling or youngling fraims.

And Starscream just scoopes up one of them possibly swaddles because they're kicking and starts to feed them becaues babies need to eat.

These poor little sparklings must have been through hell if they won't even touch their energon 🥺 its possible they dont even really know how to eat by themselves. Starscream grabs the smallest one and, to stop his thrashing, swiftly wraps him up in the sticky, hyper-tough silk that morphs can mske (something I learned from the second movie I watched last night 😌), preventing too much wiggling and thrashing around. Don't want the baby to hurt himself, after all!

The other sparklings flock around him, clearly distressed at the way he's taken their friend away, tiny hands trying to scale his legs. He ignores them in favor of trying to get the one in his arms to sip from his cube of energon, but the sparkling is stubborn. Won't open his intake for anything

The morphs are at a loss, honestly. These sparklings have been surviving on their own for god knows how long: it makes sense they'd be wary or even afraid of strangers. But they must be hungry! They can't just let them starve! What are they going to do? 🥺

On the other side, Team Prime is actively living through a horror movie, kidnapped by these giant beastly things that keep grabbing them and shuffling them around, trying to get them to drink surely-poisoned energon. None have ever had contact with a cybermorph before--even Ratchet, who was present for the war. He was a field medic, primarily: he's seen the damage they can do but never actually had the misfortune of facing one. Pretty much no one has: if you run into a morph, it's all but a guaranteed death, so they have nothing to go on. They have no concept of what a sparkling is, so they've no idea why the morphs are babying them and not eating them. It's so bizarre

[titansandothers]

Beast Boy and the Bakery

(Sorry I haven't posted any writing for so long. This is unfinished and takes place after Go! but before the series official start.)

When it came to the construction of Titans Tower, each team member contributed in their own way. Beast Boy found his place primarily in brute strength and delicate tasks, utilizing his larger animal forms and smaller animal forms respectively. While he was grateful to be able to help and not be scolded for minor slip ups, the changeling was starting to tire of construction. While not physically tired, he really wanted to do something besides building the Tower. Surprisingly, he merely needed to ask Robin for a break to be allowed to do so. He never would have dreamed of doing such a thing under Mento’s leadership... With that non-issue taken care of, Beast Boy found himself wandering the city. He had no particular destination in mind, but he seemed to find one in a less populated part of the city. The building was on the smaller side, seemingly squished between two larger buildings, but it struck the changeling as cozy. There were flower boxes beneath each window and the exterior was painted a soft white with some accents in pastel pink, blue, and yellow. The sign on the building read: Tasty Treats and Vegan Eats Curiosity piqued, Beast Boy opened the door, causing the bell above it to jingle. While the outside looked more like a bakery, the interior seemed to be mixed with a bit of fifties diner, given its round chairs, small tables, tiled floor, and jukebox.

There were a total number of four people he could see in the bakery. An old man, an old woman, a young boy, and an even younger girl. The woman behind the counter was quick to greet him, not the least bit fazed by his appearance. “Well, hello there, dearie,” the woman smiled, her white curls bouncing as she tilted her head slightly. “I can’t say I’ve seen you here before. Would you like a sample?” Beast Boy blinked, a bit surprised by the woman’s lack of reaction to his appearance. “Uh, sure,” he shrugged a bit, approaching the counter. “They’re free, right? And no animal products?” “Free as the air you breathe and one hundred percent vegan,” the woman smiled as she readied a few samples. “Oh, cool,” he replied with a small smile. As the changeling waited, his ear twitched as the sound of small footsteps approached him. Looking down, he saw it was the young boy. Before he could say anything, the green teen was greeted with a loud, “Why are you green?!” Beast Boy flinched a little. This kid didn’t seem to have a concept of inside voice. Then again, he had the same problem sometimes. After wiggling his finger in his ear, he responded. “It’s just part of my superpowers,” he shrugged. “I can turn into animals.”

The boy took in a deep breath, eyes seeming to sparkle as his mouth widened to the point his smile practically covered half his face. “That’s so cool!” the child loudly exclaimed, seemingly too young to be skeptical. Something he did was cool? Beast Boy wondered to himself. More often than not, he was seen as a freak for what he could do… most certainly not cool. “You think so?! You wanna see?!” the teen asked. “Yeah!” the boy bounced up and down. “Can you turn into a dinosaur? A big one?!” “Not inside, I hope,” the woman interjected, setting a few samples on the counter. “Here you are. Let me know what you think!” The young boy slumped his shoulders as the hero’s attention was now taken by food. “Oooo~” Beast Boy uttered in awe of the treats before him. Taking the tiny plastic spoon in his hand, he dug into the small paper cup. Popping the dessert in his mouth, he let out a pleased, “Mmmmm~ Coconut cream pie!” The woman nodded and gestured to the remaining dessert samples. “S’more doughnut; macadamia nut cookie.” “Don’t mind if I do!” the changeling wiggled his fingers in anticipation, taking the morsels and popping them into his mouth. “They’re so good!” he exclaimed, giddy with his new bakery discovery. “How’d you make them so good?!”

“Years of baking and experimentation. I’m lactose intolerant, you see, while my husband is allergic to eggs and our son is vegetarian. I had to learn to cook and bake some foods we could all eat.” Beast Boy nodded before the boy interrupted. “Can you turn into a dinosaur now?” The changeling looked over to the older woman and asked, “Do you mind if I turn into a little one… ma’am?” “That’s perfectly fine,” she replied. “But there’s no need for ma’am. Call me Maggie!” “Thanks, Maggie,” he nodded and turned to the young boy. “All right! Here comes an eoraptor!” In a split second, the green teen became a small dinosaur, approximately three feet long. Turning his head to take in his surroundings and make sure he didn’t hit anything with his tail, the dinosaur made a few poses, almost like a museum display. “That’s so cool!” the boy bounced excitedly. “Well, I’ll be,” the old man uttered, bouncing his granddaughter on his knee. “Did you see that, Clara?” The toddler said nothing, merely whined and attempted to hide against her grandfather’s torso. The dinosaur returned to a teen in an instant, looking worried and remorseful. “H-hey, don’t be scared! I’m sorry! I can make it better! I can turn into other things!” He frantically looked over to the old man. “Does she have a favorite animal?!”

Bouncing the girl on his knee once more, the man replied. “She has a few teddy bears of koalas. We call her our little koala because she needs to sleep so much.” Beast Boy nodded and became a koala on the spot, doing his best to look non-threatening. “Look at that,” the grandfather nudged the girl and pointed her gaze to the fuzzy green koala. Clara’s eyes widened and her attitude quickly changed, reaching out in an attempt to pet the furry being. The green koala walked over and held his paws up to the old man. Knowing what the teen wanted, the man lowered his arm so the transformed teen could grab onto it. Lifting him up and placing him on his lap, he instinctually placed his hand on the boy’s back to keep him upright as one might a baby. The toddler promptly reached out and hugged the marsupial, cooing excitedly. “There we go. No need to be scared,” the grandfather assured. “Clara gets scared a lot,” the boy informed. “That’s why I gotta protect her,” he stated with his fists on his hips and chest puffed out.

[bodypositivemitsurizine]

[ID: Two primarily pink Guest Contributor Spotlight graphics. The first image has a profile picture framed by roses. It holds a chibi of Usami from Golden Kamuy, drawn in shades of pink and with bunny ears. He's tiny and held in someone's hand like a squeaky toy, with sparkles floating around his face. There is text that reads "Oli, It/Cat/He, and Artist." Next to the tumblr icon is "@/nblemons." There is a pink box that reads "just a kitty cat, lover of cute and soft things." At the bottom, there is a thin pink ribbon with links to the twitter (BPMitsuriZine) and tumblr (bodypositivemitsurizine).

The second image has the creator's best work. In the corner, Mitsuri Kanroji is holding a big dango stick over her shoulder. At the bottom, there is a thin pink ribbon with links to the twitter (BPMitsuriZine) and tumblr (bodypositivemitsurizine). The creator's best work is a portrait of Choso from Jujutsu Kaisen, a pale man with strong eye bags, a black band tattooed across his nose and cheeks, and black hair which is pulled into short and messy twintails. He's dressed up in a fancy red collared cape, a black blouse and dangly pearl earrings with bows at their ends, with a fluffy pair of cat ears on his head. He looks tiredly to the left, gently holding a rose's stem in his hands. End ID.]

♡ CONTRIBUTOR SPOTLIGHT - OLI ♡

[Plain Text: Contributor Spotlight - Oli.]

Please welcome @nblemons to the zine team!

[arvens-gf]

How She Knew

Arven x Io | Rated E | 1.5k Words

Happy Valentine’s Day! Here’s a short piece to celebrate! Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

Io was usually good at feelings. After all, she felt them quite often. She knew how she acted when she was happy, how to deal with being upset, and how her face could often betray her words. But she didn’t know all of them. Primarily… she didn’t know what she was feeling about Arven. She knew she enjoyed his company for certain, though that boy made her nervous, to say the least. Perhaps it was how often he’d run into danger with only one eye open. Perhaps it was all the strange things he recommended her to eat. Or perhaps it was that everything he recommended was delicious. Either way, Io was a bit of a mess around him.

“Io!” A voice jostled her from her own thoughts, followed by familiar loud bootsteps trodding closer. “Look what I caught!” Arven had a beaming smile on his face, something that was increasingly common. Io looked up from the ground to come face to face with some very big eyes and a tongue. She recoiled with a squeak before realizing that the horrid beast was simply a Shellder. “He’s going to help with the Stony Cliff Titan, I just know it!”

“You scared me, little guy,” she chuckled and lightly patted the shell. “But you’re gonna do great!” Arven smiled as his new Pokemon wiggled happily.

“Do you have a Pokemon that’s good against rock? Safflina knows fighting type moves, right…?” Arven continued strategizing for her in his head, thinking about how they could take the oversized crab down without any trouble.

“Safflina’s got it covered, don’t worry.” To prove her point, she let the little Pawmo out of her Pokeball. Safflina chirped and looked up at her trainer. “Can you show Arven the new move you just learned on this sandwich?” She held up a long sandwich for her, making her eyes sparkle.

“Awa!” She powers up, closing her tiny eyes in focus before chopping the lunch in two with her hand.

“Good girl!” Io beamed, scratching behind her ears. Safflina purred and rubbed into her hand. Arven chuckled softly.

“Alright, guess I shouldn’t worry. Clearly our tiny little friends have got it covered.”

“Not like we could fistfight a Klawf on our own, yeah?” Arven shrugged.

“Well, with my sandwiches, I bet we could stand a chance! I mean, look what it did to me!” He jokingly flexes, blowing the hair from his face. Though it was a joke, Arven did have something to brag about. He wasn’t scrawny by any means, but not exactly buff. He had this nice strength about him, muscles soft yet still present. He looked soft, intercut with a strong jawline and broad shoulders. “... uh, Io?”

“Wh-” Io blinked as she was snapped out of her, well, analysis of her companion.

“You okay? You looked all distant.” Io’s face erupted into a brilliant shade of red as she realized exactly what she had been doing.

“I-I’m fine! Just strategizing on our attack plan!”

“Oh! Share!” He leaned forward as he bit his sandwich, elbows resting on his knees. Io blinked, suddenly caught in her lie.

“... we hit it with super effective moves.”

“Mhm?”

“... and we don’t get hit.” Arven raised an eyebrow. He’d definitely have something to say if his manners were only slightly worse. “A-And I set up paralysis with Safflina.” That addition seemed to assuage Arven a bit, as he nodded and swallowed.

“Sounds good. We’ve got this!” He raised the rest of his sandwich triumphantly to toast (despite the bread being untoasted.) Io smiled and knocked her sandwich against his.

“To victory!”

— — —

One arduous battle later, the glowing cave was quiet yet again. With the Titan gone, Arven had gotten the Herba Mystica he needed. Io rested her back against one of the rocky walls, eyes closed as she listened to Arven’s humming. He didn’t do that with the first Titan, but this time he seemed to have eased into having company.

“Damn…” He whispered to himself through closed teeth. Io glanced over.

“You okay?”

“My hair keeps getting in my face.” Io stifled a snort.

“Isn’t it always?” Arven rolled his eyes, not that she could see it. “Here.” She walked over and rummaged in her bag, procuring a hair tie.

“Oh– thanks, Io.” He took it and held it in his mouth, pulling his hair up with his hands. His hair was long and soft, and adorably messy. Io thought it looked a bit like how cream flowed into coffee, spilling into soft strands. Though she did enjoy looking at his hair, she often found herself upset with it for blocking his eye. His eyes, as many people’s were, showed his soul in shades of blue, framed with soft lashes and expressive brows. She liked those eyes. “... you’re doing it again.”

Io jolted and nearly fell over. “Sorry- sorry!”

“Seriously, are you okay?” He turned his attention to her with a discerning gaze.

“Yeah. Just… hungry. These Titan battles make me all fatigued. I hope the plants make it worth it.” She stretched, groaning slightly. Arven looked away after catching a glimpse of her midriff, wanting to be respectful. He sighed, looking down at the Pokeball on his belt.

“Io… can I tell you something?”

“Hm? Yeah, anything.”

“... I haven’t been fully honest with you,” he admitted in a low voice. Io’s shoulders stiffened. She wasn’t able to read this. Over the years, she had learned how to detect a lie. It frightened her that she couldn’t see through him. “I don’t want the Herba Mystica for myself, or some dumb culinary reason.”

“Then… why?” Io looked over. She trusted him, to a certain degree. Enough to go alone into a cave with him. So she waited with bated breath for the truth. Arven took the Pokeball from his belt, holding it gentler than anything in his life.

“Okay, buddy… you can come out now.” Arven tossed the ball to the cave floor, watching it open and release a large Mabosstiff. The beast laid on the floor, eyes closed and body tired. The only sign the dog was alive was his twitching nose, smelling the sandwiches. Io’s eyes widened as she looked at the Pokemon, almost wanting to reach out to it. “This is Mabosstiff, my partner.” He knelt down and lightly petted his body.

“... what happened?”

“We… we went into the Great Crater of Paldea. I was trying to find my mother, but… we were attacked. Mabosstiff got the worst of it. It’s a miracle he’s still alive.”

“Y-You haven’t taken him to a Pokemon Center? Or used potions?” Io croaked, knowing that wasn’t the solution.

“Nothing’s worked. So… I turned to the rumors. That Herba Mystica can heal any wound. Mabosstiff is the only family I have left… I’d give the world for him, you know? He’s been more of a parent to me than my actual mom, so I… I have to save him. But I’m not strong enough.” He turned his eyes to Io. “That’s why I needed you.”

Io silently sat next to him, looking down at Mabosstiff and trying not to tear up. She looked to Arven before lightly holding her hand to the pup’s nose. He sniffed for a while, then offered a tired lick. She smiled slightly, looking to Arven. His own eyes were sparkling with tears, but determination ran deeper. He took the sandwich and tore off a small piece. “Small bites, bud. Take it easy.” Mabosstiff slowly scarfed down the sandwich, chewing what he could. Arven sighed, unsure of what he had expected to happen.

“You’re a good person, Arven.”

“Huh?” He froze.

“You’re a good person. Doing all of this for your family… that’s so noble.” Io looked up to meet his gentle eyes. “He’s lucky to have you. And… I promise to help you get him back on his paws.” Arven blinked, stunned by such kind words. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then searched for words again. Nothing came. But nothing needed to, as he pulled her into a tight hug. Io wasted no time returning it, her arms just managing to wrap around him.

“Thank you, Io… thank you.” He kept her close, even after pulling away. Io smiled reassuringly before her eyes drifted…

“Arven! Look!” She erupted, pointing to Mabosstiff. Arven followed, meeting soft, tired, open eyes. He gasped, pulling away from Io properly to hold his pup’s face in his hands.

“They’re open! Yes! Oh how I missed those sweet little eyes! Ooooh, such a good boy! Who’s a good boy?” Arven laughed in tearful relief, kissing the top of his head. Io saw that smile, how his soul lit up with nothing but love, and she wondered what it would feel like. Arven pulled her into the pseudo group hug, eliciting a surprised squeak from her. “Io! Thank you so much!” He beamed at her, a large yet soft hand resting on her back.

… oh.

[darkacey]

Amber/peridot

Thanks anon for the asks! (And apologies for taking so long to answer - figuring out my response to Peridot was harder than I expected it to be.) Original list can be found here!

As usual, my response is super long, so check them out under the cut.

Amber: Something you learned from writing your wip

Two main things come to mind

While figuring out what sort of gloves Lucas wears, I found that hairsheep leather is a special type of very supple/fine leather made from hairsheep! They have hair instead of wool, and they're primarily raised for meat/leather. (I went with leather instead of silk for Lucas because silk would get dirty way too quickly and probably get destroyed by everything I put him through).

Hairsheep Leather

Characteristics: This type of leather is known for its great strength and natural elasticity, which helps the glove to fit properly. Hairsheep is neither thick nor bulky, but is instead a lighter material to work with. Best of all, hairsheep is buttery soft to the touch, and provides lasting comfort for the wearer.

When I was stuck on the Atohl's End segment, I toured an actual salt mine and learned a ton about how it's mined, how it is/was used, and what it is/was like for the miners. I could probably make an entire post about all the stuff I learned there, but basically I figured out that Atohl's End is definitely an iron mine and not a salt mine. But I still haven't done a lot of research into iron mines lol

Fun facts about salt mines

The walls sparkle!

Mining is done through a checkerboard pattern. They take out large "rooms" in between pillars, and they have to be careful to mine within specific mud lines or else it causes the ceiling to collapse.

To control airflow, emptied "rooms" used to be boarded up with empty explosives boxes filled with trash salt. Nowadays they use heavy curtains because the boxes used to be knocked over by explosive blasts a lot.

"Anything that comes down, stays down" - this refers to the fact that unless it's absolutely necessary, everything you don't need doesn't come back up because the hoist is so tiny (4 by 6 feet), it's only cost effective to bring up salt and miners. To get anything down, they had to take it in pieces (this includes cars - they'd dismember them, discard windshields/whatever else was unnecessary, and then reassemble them underground). Tools, trash, etc were all abandoned once they outlived their usefulness.

Salt mines are a great place to preserve stuff. The one I visited has a lot of Hollywood memorabilia because the air is dry, temperature is steady, and there's next to no chance of natural disasters destroying anything.

A ton of other stuff that I'd probably spend a week explaining, but I have writing and other things to do. ^^; (That said, if you have specific questions, I'd still be happy to answer when I have time.)

Peridot: What is your protagonist’s greatest strength / weakness

I think technically Lucas is my protagonist, but I see him and Ari as dual protagonists. For both of them, their curiosity about all things gets them into so much trouble. They show their curiosity in very different ways (Lucas has to write everything down and analyze things, Ari has to experience and/or create new things). The more I think on this, though, it isn’t really a weakness. That would mean it hinders the progress of their goals, which it doesn’t. They’re just unlucky.

Hmm… With that angle, it seems more apt to say that Lucas’ weakness is overthinking, getting stuck in his head instead of actually reaching out. Lot of reasons for this (mostly related to godhood and self-imposed isolation that’s become so ingrained, it’s still there even after amnesia), but it’s also partly due to the way his brain works. (I could also point towards his dogmatic inclinations/abitrary rules, but I've downplayed those in Who Remembers a God as an implied-autistic trait for Rules as Comfort).

Lucas’ strength is hard for me to pinpoint. I could again look towards his curiosity, and his passion to record everything, but it's hard to say that he's actually good at it. (I say this affectionately, but this man is a hoarder of knowledge, and only lifetimes of experience have taught him how to have any semblance of organization).

I think what Lucas naturally excels at is his people skills, actually (which is ironic given the stereotypes about autistic people). His instinctual inclination to be a showman, to spread joy intentionally or accidentally, allows him to gain friends and allies wherever he goes. Plus, it's extra helpful to collect all the stories he loves cataloging. (Sure, excessive miracles cause him quite a bit of grief, but he's used to bad luck).

Now, as for Ari, their strength is probably just the fact that they're a jack of all trades. Whatever they put their mind to, they're able to figure out with reasonable degrees of success. (Being an Earthmate gives them an unfair advantage, but my point still stands.)

Conversely, because Ari is so good at so many things, they unfortunately feel the need to do everything for everyone else. Their weakness is their inability to easily trust other people. While this usually works out just fine (who doesn't appreciate extra help?), it does hurt their relationships when they cross boundaries.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Spank - A Chibs Telford/Reader Smut Drabble.

Felt like doing a bit of whip play with Chibby. Enjoy!

Words - 426

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

It’s called a schooling whip. It is used by horse riders, primarily for the dressage discipline, the long whip administered to the horse’s flank in a tiny tap, meaning minimal movement beyond the flick of a wrist is needed to be used. A horse should never be tapped anything more than lightly with it. 

What you’re receiving with it, though, is most definitely beyond such subtlety.  

He strikes you, where you stand in place, cuffed to the large wooden X in the far corner of your play room. Yes, you bought a house with a basement specifically for this purpose, the dark red painted room now used solely for indulgences in kink. “Colour?”  

“Green.” That one wasn’t so bad. He knows if you say red, he has to dial it back.  

“Hmmm, I cannae be doing things properly then, if we’re still at green.” You gulp, anticipating the sting, feeling the small lash at the end of the whip tickle across your bare cheeks, slowly ascending your spine, teasing across your shoulders before contact is removed.  

The air is cut with a whoosh, the whip striking you hard across both butt cheeks. You flinch, a groan pouring from you. He does it again, this time eliciting a little whimper. “Colour?”

“Amber.” Oh yes, that time, it was edged in a smidgen more pain, yet this is what you love, your cunt brimming with the evidence of it, a sparkling little pool of slick beginning to wet your upper thighs, you lover noticing. He crouches behind you, his thumb rubbing between your folds, spreading that warm puddle of arousal around, seeking your clit as his tongue follows the bright red lashes across your butt, his teeth taking a gentle bite. “Mmm, fuck, that feels good.”

“Aye, baby. I bet it does. Daddy knows what you like by now.” he rumbles, standing once more, the lash of the whip now softly teasing where his thumb just rubbed, a breath hitching in your throat, the contact again removed before you’re struck once more. “Colour?”

A sob wells in your throat, the pain stinging, burning, knowing you’ll likely bruise from it. “Red.”

He chuckles, placing the whip down, coming to press himself against you, unfastening each cuff until your arms are released. He kisses the back of your neck, pulling you against him, his big, firm cock pressing hot at the base of your spine, his lips ghosting your ear before he whispers the words you’ve been craving all night. 

“I guess it’s only fair that I fuck you now.”

[bleufrost]

What if season 1-2 Spencer had a protective partner (my pronouns are she/they, so anything works) in the sense of they don’t like how the team doesn’t listen to him sometimes and just cut him off, etc, and so whenever that happens they comfort him and remind him how much he matters and is loved not just for his brain but for all of him? Tons of kisses, cuddles, and hair playing (his hair) if that’s okay!

Thank you, and if you can’t do that, it’s okay! 💖

Little Lessons | Spencer Reid x reader

a/n: i love this request so much, thank you! this is honestly something i think about way more often than i should because it tears my heart apart every time spence gets shut down. i hope you like this angel!!

warnings: some fairly vague violent case talk, mental illness, angst, but this is primarily fluff <3 , and some fun facts about some of my personal favorite things haha

"Metal isn't exactly a genre I'm into. Not really my style, ya know?" Derek shrugs and hands the file down to Spence who takes it eagerly.

It was your first official day with the BAU, and while you may have known these people for years thanks to your lovely boyfriend, actually working alongside them was an entirely new experience.

Spencer's hands flip the folder open, holding it up just enough so that you can both read it over at the same time; a little thing he often does at home while he reads to you on the couch. You both know he would finish far before you, but Spence really just wants to do anything he can to make you feel less intimidated. Allowing you the discreet opportunity to be close to him was something he knew would help. You appreciate that immensely and take the brief moment of confidence his action grants you seriously because, when you lean closer, you notice something funny about what Derek had said.

"It's not actually metal." The rest of the team looks at you with questioning glances. You know they just want an explanation, but something about being the new kid and having all of their eyes on you makes your stomach drop. You feel your breath hitch, but a small hand on your arm stops you from attempting to answer through your now shaky breathing.

Spencer offers you a tiny smile, hand squeezing just slightly to let you know you weren't going to do this alone.

"Yeah, that's right. This appears to be a genre known as alternative rock." Spence leans forward, sitting up in preparation for the little history lesson he already has prepared in his head.

Seeing him excited to share makes your heart beat faster, sending a warm feeling throughout your body that comforts you the way only hearing the voice of the person you love can. The fact that he was doing it to protect you only makes your heart swell more.

"The genre first appeared in the late 1970's and early 1980's. With the popularization of rock a few decades earlier, it was only inevitable that variations would start to pop up." Once you saw his hands moving, you knew he was completely lost in this thought. His eyes were sparkling, happy to share knowledge that could potentially help the case. You watch him with a smile, proud of the man you were with. Even if you weren't entranced by his voice and movements, the topic was interesting and you can't help but want to know more.

"As widespread as it was though, it didn't exactly reach its peak until the-"

"Alright, kid. I get it, I messed up." Derek laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. Looking around, you can see smiles on the faces of the rest of your team. You aren't smiling though.

Spencer's hands come down from where they were moving in the air in front of him. You see when his mouth shuts tightly in a harsh line. You notice the slight droop of his eyelids when he looks down in shame. It hurts.

Just like he had done before for you, you bring your hand up to gently rest against his arm. His head turns to look at you, eyes telling you everything you need to know. He would never say it to them, but the implication that he was too much, that he wasn't like the others…it reminds him of being back in school with kids who were just a little too unforgiving.

Your finger comes up to tap against your temple softly. Spencer's big puppy eyes look at you in confusion, eyebrows coming in to scrunch up adorably.

"Keep it up there. I want to hear more about it later." The frown on his face alleviates just barely, eyes lighting up ever so slightly in hope.

"Really?" You smile and bring your finger over to tap his temple just like you had done to your own.

"Yes." He smiles big this time, eyes following your finger to his head and back down again.

After that, it becomes a normal thing for the two of you. Finger taps on temples to let Spencer know he was being heard. That he was valued.

Of course, you didn't want to imply that the team didn't value Spencer. You knew they definitely did. What they did, the jokes and little jabs, it was all good natured. Sometimes, a little reminder was just necessary. You were more than happy to be that reminder for Spence.

The system worked magnificently...for the most part. There was just one little hiccup. Spencer really liked to share information. Like, a lot.

After a while, you start carrying around a notepad specifically for when the occasion arose that you knew you would need a reminder.

His memory was great. Spencer would easily be able to recall every little thing you had tapped your temple about. Your memory though, left something to be desired. You just wanted to show him even more that it all sticks with you. He would understand either way, but it was just something a little extra you wanted to do. After each case, you spent a little time reading over your list of topics, ready to ask Spence about each one on the trip home.

It was after a particularly grueling case that this extra effort came even more in handy.

Teenagers had been going missing left and right, some turning up only after it was too late to save them. When you all had found the unsub, he turned out to be just another troubled kid who couldn't shut off the voices in his head. Spencer took these cases extremely personally. You did too, having been an outcast in school for much of your life. But the part about voices...the delusions...those were especially difficult for Spence.

Taking a seat on the jet's couch, you guide Spencer to rest beside you. His brows are furrowed, eyes scanning the space in front of him in an attempt to keep up with his mind that's running a mile a minute. When your hand comes up to tap against the side of his forehead, he flinches.

Your hand immediately moves away, wanting to give him some space if he needs it. The flinch doesn't hurt you, you'd done the same to him many times when lost in thought. You know it was just an instinct, not anything personal. It was the way he wasn't able to focus, the antsy movements and obvious spiraling that he was doing that got to you.

"I'm sorry." His voice is soft as he speaks and you find yourself shaking your head before he even finishes the apology.

"No, no. It's okay. I just want to know where you are." When his eyes fall to look at your hand, you know it's an invitation to try again.

You bring your hand to rest against his neck, fingers playing with the little strands of hair there.

"I just can't stop thinking about him. He’s just a kid. Honestly, he's not that different from how I was. There's so much that I got lucky in, and even then I don't really feel that far away from him. We're different from everyone else and it's so obvious…" He trails off a little, eyes brimming with tears as your hand continues to stroke his hair. You let him talk, but when he meets your gaze, you know you can't keep quiet any longer.

"Spencer, maybe you're right. Maybe you guys aren't so different. But you have something that he unfortunately didn't. People here love you. They care about you and you're good enough inside to let them. As for luck, I like to believe we make our own." The tears in his eyes slowly fall, finally letting go of all the pain he had been feeling the whole case. His head leans into your touch, reveling in the feel of your fingers against him.

"I'm sorry. I feel like I do this more often than I should. It's annoying." You bring your other hand to hold his cheek, brushing the tears away.

"It's not annoying and you don't have to apologize. Spencer, you mean the absolute world to me. Everything about you makes me grateful to have you in my life. You're incredibly smart and, yes, different, but every bit of that makes up the man I love. Please be kind to him." You lean forward, lips brushing his forehead in a kiss that you hope tells him just how much you love him.

Spencer's hand covers yours against his cheek. "I love you so much." He says the words with such raw vulnerability, they make your heart ache.

"I love you too." You both stay like that for a moment, taking advantage of the quiet before the rest of the team arrives on the jet. When they finally do, you know it's best to lighten the mood.

"There's some stuff that I think you owe me a little lesson on." Spencer laughs softly, eyes shining with both unshed tears and the warmth in knowing you remembered. He really shouldn't be surprised. You always remember.

Your body leans back against the couch, arms patting your lap to invite him over. He easily falls into place, head coming to rest against your thighs as he looks up at your face. Your fingers find their way back to his hair, stroking gently to tame the little curls that had strewn themselves haphazardly when he came to rest.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather rest? I don’t mind if you're too tired to hear it right now. We can talk later." There's no accusation or malice in the question, and when you look into his eyes, you know he's only concerned with your wellbeing.

"Are you tired, Spence?" He thinks for a moment, but shakes his head.

"I think the case is a little too fresh for me to sleep." You nod in agreement.

"Me too. If it's okay, I really would love to hear about everything. You mentioned some really neat facts on the origins of Star Trek earlier this week."

Spencer grins at you and leans up, kissing you gently in a silent 'thank you.'

The kiss lasts a little longer than the normal ones he offers in public. His hand strokes your cheek, pulling you closer to him as he deepens it slightly. You know he needs this, the closeness is like a safety blanket and you're thankful for that because it comforts you just as much as it does him. Maybe even more.

You start smiling when a low wolf whistle sounds from down the aisle. Derek claps, laughing at the two of you in that silly, boyish way.

When Spencer pulls away, your smile is wide. You expect to see a rosy blush of embarrassment on his cheeks, but you find none. Instead, he just smiles back at you.

His head leans back to rest on your lap again, hands coming up to begin his excited talk.

"The intricacies of the world that makes up Star Trek are often mistaken for having been meticulously planned out, but that really isn't the case at all. A lot of the details that allow the different races to come to life were improvised during production." Your fingers gently scratch at his scalp and run against his soft curls mindlessly. Playing with Spencer's hair was therapeutic for the both of you.

"Leonard Nimoy actually invented the Vulcan salute, which is crazy considering the role wasn't offered to him originally. We could have easily lost a cultural staple and no one would have been the wiser."

"Oh no, is boy wonder going off again?" Derek laughs light-heartedly as he grabs a paper coffee cup.

Spencer stills beneath you, but before his hands can even fall, you're clapping back at Derek with a confident grin.

"I know you're not really used to it, but some people actually find knowledge incredibly attractive." He looks at you with wide eyes, a small smile playing at his lips that soon grows wide as he laughs once more.

"Alright, sweetheart. You got bite. I'll let you two get back to your little geek talk." Derek picks up his now full cup and heads over to sit across from Hotch. He turns back quickly though, looking at both you and Spencer a little more seriously now.

"Just for the record, I think that's pretty cool. You guys are good kids and I'm happy you're both on the team."

Spencer smiles back at Derek, and so do you. It genuinely means a lot to feel accepted here. You know his words have a huge impact on Spencer too, especially considering how alone he had felt not too long ago.

"Thanks, Derek." He nods and leaves you two alone again.

When you look back to Spencer, he has this goofy grin on his face that makes you almost laugh out loud.

"What?" He leans up and kisses your cheek again, continuing to smile.

"You find me 'incredibly attractive'?" Your mouth falls open in shock and you scoff, smacking his chest lightly.

"Spencer, you're literally my boyfriend!" He giggles and falls against you again, poking your nose.

"You like me." His eyes are bright and happy, and it takes all of three seconds for his teasing to make you join him in little giggles.

After a moment, you remember that he had been interrupted again in the middle of talking and you decide to playfully pinch the tip of his ear to fold like a Vulcan before your hand finds his hair again.

"Ouch!" He scrunches his nose at you, but quickly catches on, making himself comfortable as he leans in a little closer to the warmth of your body.

"Right, Vulcans!"

The rest of the ride home is spent discussing an endless sea of little topics. Spencer sharing long pieces of information while you occasionally pipe in to add something you remember about it or ask a question. It's a calm sort of ritual that keeps the both of you sane during hard cases like this, and it's one that you find yourself eternally grateful to share with someone you love as much as him.

[nationalharryleague]

The Best Things Happen While You’re Dancing

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

Word count: 2.5K

A/N: Hi everyone! This is 2.5k of absolute tooth rotting fluff that was inspired by the Golden music video and the ultra talented @theharriediaries​!! Thank you to Soph and Lu (@meetmymouth​) for beta reading and giving me some direction when I needed it!! You can find more of my writing in my masterlist and I would LOVE if you could give me some feedback!! My requests are also open in my ask!! 

***

“The Italians drink a lot over dinner,” Harry told you in an informative tone, an attempt to order yet another very expensive bottle of red. “Wine is very important in Italian culture,” he tipsily explained across the table, dimples prominent from his cheeky smile. “I learned that in my Italian classes.”

“Oh, did you?” you teased back at him, feeling a bit floaty as you finished your third glass, only for Harry to fill it right back up, emptying the bottle on the table. You laughed and shook your head as you watched him make eye contact with the waiter, motioning for him to bring another bottle over.

“Vino, vino, vino,” he hummed under his breath, playing with the empty glass in front of him that was soon filled up again with the deep red liquid that had stained his pouty lips a deep red and his tongue purple. The two of you sat in the front patio of a small restaurant down the block from your hotel, under a giant and bright moon that made his eyes sparkle even more than usual.

He had a boyish flush to his cheeks, which could have been from the wine or the remnants of a scaldingly hot day in Italy; maybe both. You could still feel the summer heat radiating back up from the pavement below you after it had baked in the sun all day. The oppressive heat still hung in the air, just enough for a light sheen of sweat to be covering you both that seemed to make Harry glow on the dimly lit patio.

You two had found yourself in Italy while Harry had some time off because he insisted he needed to go and practice his Italian. “Devo andare per la mia istruzione,” he told you one day after he got home from his class. “I have to go for my education,” he translated a moment later after being met with a blank look from you. He practiced all day every day.  He struck up conversations with locals, spoke with every fan who came to say hi, and attempted to translate menus and order every meal. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, but he was trying nonetheless.

Harry in Italy was a special version of himself. He was smiley and carefree and always trying to fatten you up or get you drunk. When he was here, he seemed to wholeheartedly become the H you always knew, abandoning the rockstar and becoming the mushy and emotional man that told you he loved you in every sentence and needed to be touching you at all times. His hair had lightened a tiny bit from your days outdoors,  his skin had grown tan and taken on a golden tone, a side effect of him constantly ignoring when you told him to put on sunscreen.

You drank and ate and talked until the restaurant was closing down around you, a common occurrence when you two had the opportunity to slow down and just be together for a while, trying to forget that there was anything else going on in the world outside this tiny town. If he hadn’t captivated the wait staff with his broken Italian and charming smile earlier in the night, you were sure you would have been met with eyerolls from those cleaning up around you. Eventually, you two walked hand in hand out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk along the windy road, both of you full and drunk, and beginning the short walk back to your hotel.

He was smiling so wide his dimpled cheeks must have been hurting, a bright smile encouraged by the alcohol running through his system. His hair flopped over his forehead, curlier than usual because of the sea air and his lips were an even deeper purple than before. His beautiful mouth babbled, every thought in his head flowing past his lips in a slightly slurred mix of italian and english; a verbal expression of excitement and clumsiness.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight beside you, your fingers lazily interlocked with his, tugging him back when he moved too close to the street, hoping his wobbly legs wouldn’t trip on the uneven cobblestone sidewalk. You primarily didn’t want him to tear or stain his favorite light blue blazer if he took a tumble. He once told you it was his favorite because he thought the color looked like the sky on the day you had met. You remember blushing and pushing him away from you, telling him he was cheesy with a playful eye roll. “It’s my job to be cheesy!” he had defended himself. “Also, I’m not being cheesy, I’m a man in love.”

You were brought back into reality when he stopped in his tracks and pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your torso. “We should dance,” he beamed, eyes wide like it was the greatest idea he had ever thought of.

“There’s no music, H,” you regrettably informed him while pushing his curls away from his forehead. You couldn’t help but lean in and press a light kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm and slightly sweaty on your lips, a salty taste invading your mouth.

“We don’t need music. All the music is up here,” he winked while tapping his temple. “We're listening to classical.”

“Oh I see, music man,” you joked, unable to contain your giggles.

“Shh,” he attempted to quell your laughter, bringing his pointer finger to your lips. “Can’t hear the music.” A sarcastic seriousness played across his face, prompting another grin to sneak onto your lips. You pressed a kiss to his finger, before giving into his demand and falling quiet.

You could never fight the spell he put you under. You lived in a cloud of Harry, an intoxicating daze that made you unable to focus on the bad of the world when he was around. He had seemed to melt down the walls you had built before you had met, a fact that made him endearingly call you his ‘Ice Queen’ every once in a while. The charm and wit he carried with him wiped away your practicality, always knowing how to convince you to play along with his antics and throw your precious caution to the wind. He was your rose colored glasses. He made your heart jump all day long and unexpected bursts of joy were felt in your chest whenever he smiled, laughed, or said your name. You were enamored by him, an all consuming love you couldn’t escape from.

“What are you thinking about, pet?” he asked softly, breaking through your loving haze. “You have your thinking face on.” A light smile continued to play on his lips but it was softer now, taking on a gentle questioning quality.

“Just thinking about how much I love you,” you confessed.

His eyebrows perked up and so did the corners of his mouth into a delightful smirk. “I mean, who doesn’t?” His smart ass comment earned himself a playful slap to his chest, but your attempt to wiggle out of his arms was thwarted when he pulled you even tighter to him. “That’s no way to treat your dance partner, my love.”

“I want a different dance partner,” you taunted, sticking the tip of your tongue out at him.

One of his hands fell from your shoulders to the small of your waist, the other found one of yours and he began to sway with care side to side. “Too bad, we’re already dancing,” he spoke softly into your ear. You two moved in an easy rhythm to a song only Harry could hear, a more caring and tender tone taking over for your previously playful one.

His cheek pressed to your temple and your bodies pressed loosely to each other. If you tried hard enough, you could hear the man’s soft hum of a melody you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Your feet fell carefully, wary of the uneven pavement in your heels, but you reminded yourself even if you were to fall, the arm looped around your waist would be sure to catch you. Small kisses peppered your forehead and you were released from his grasp for only a second for him to twirl you around, the skirt of your dress splaying out around you before being enveloped in him once again.

“I love you, angel,” he murmured softly when you found yourself resting back against his chest. He had abandoned his joking tone, shifting to a gentler and more serious cadence, pouring his soul into every word that left his lips as they brushed against your forehead. “I am so happy that I get to spend my life with you.”

“I love you so much. This is a happier life than I could have ever imagined for myself,” you spoke after a thoughtful pause. You were still swaying calmly, seeming to move in time with the cool breeze settling over the two of you, but Harry’s humming had been abandoned for a reflective silence.

“What kind of house do you want us to live in one day?” he asked abruptly, choosing to move in a seemingly unrelated direction.

“It has to be big; with enough rooms to fill with lots of cats and dogs, and when the time comes, maybe a baby. And I want a big porch to sit on together and watch the world go by on.” You felt him nod thoughtfully and with a hum of agreement.

“Do you want it to be the only house we ever live in? Or do you want to try out different places to find your favorite?”

“I think I want it to be our one house. I want us to be the crazy old people who have lived in the old rickety house at the end of the block forever; the ones who always have stories to tell and grandchildren constantly coming and going.”

“Can we be the ones who brag about never having a fight?”

“Do you mean the ones who lie?” you asked with a chuckle, looking up to face him. He broke out into a high pitched giggle, your favorite laugh of his. It warmed you to your core knowing that you were the only one who could make him laugh like that.

“Exactly,” he nodded in confirmation, still chuckling to himself.

“We can lie and say we’ve never had a fight as long as we never stop getting wine drunk and slow dancing to no music on random streets while on vacation,” you quipped.

“Sounds like a plan, my love.”

“I know we’ve talked about doing it, but when do you want to get married? I don’t want to inconvenience either of our careers with wedding planning or anything like that. I don’t really care as long as we get to spend our lives together.” The words fell freely from your mouth, the wine still running through your veins blocking the inhibition that probably should have kept the words inside your head.

“Getting married to you wouldn’t be an inconvenience, darling.”

“I know. Wrong words,” you chuckled. “Well, I guess I should have asked when you want to get engaged,” you corrected yourself. “I suppose we have to do that first.”

“Why not now?” he asked, with a mischievous twang in his voice. You felt one of his arms slip from around you and start rummaging in his jacket pocket.

“What?”

“I said,” he began again, “why not now?” His hand emerged from his pocket, presenting you with a tiny red velvet ring box.  

Your mind went blank. Your usually rapid and incessant thoughts seemed to stop altogether in a mix of shock and awe. You knew this day, or night, would come eventually. You two had discussed a future together extensively and had agreed you didn’t want to spend your lives with anyone else, but you had never imagined the moment he asked you to be his forever. You had never imagined this moment.

His eyebrows slicked up, lips curled in a devilish smile, and he sank down onto one knee before you. Your hands flew up to your face and the wetness on your fingertips alerted you to the tears that had begun to fall down your cheeks, your heartbeat pounding loud in your ears.

“My dear,” Harry began as he settled onto the sidewalk, balancing carefully on the cobblestone ground. “I have been in love with you since the very first day I met you and that adorable little snort slipped out when you laughed at one of my bad jokes. You have been the first thought I have in the morning and the last thought I have before I fall asleep for longer than you know. You are kind and smart and funny and you light up every room you walk into. I do not want to spend another second of my life without knowing you’ll be by my side for the rest of it. Will you marry me?”

He looked up at you with hopeful eyes and you looked down at him through tearful ones. You began a furious nod, before choking out the only word he wanted to hear. “Yes,” you sobbed, holding out a shaky hand for him to slide the ring onto.

The ring was beautiful; dazzling under the light of the full moon and the dim street lights above you. It slid onto your ring finger with ease, sitting snugly like the ring was made just  for you. It was simple, which Harry knew was your style and it held one (large) diamond in a simple silver setting, no bells or whistles needed.

Harry grabbed you by the waist as soon as the ring was secure and picked you up in his arms and spun, twirling you around like the two of you had just slipped out of a rom-com. Delighted giggles fell from both of your lips before he finally stopped, your laughter pausing when your lips found his.

It was a salty kiss, due to the sheen of sweat still sitting on Harry’s skin and the tears that were still streaming down your own, but it just felt so right. He was warm and smiling, lips still tasting of the pinot noir you had shared. Your lips moved together in a perfect harmony like they were meant for each other.

“Thank god you said yes,” Harry breathed when you finally separated. “I’ve been carrying that ring with me everywhere we go for two months now.”

With a playful eye roll, you pulled the curly man to you and connected your lips once again, unable to get enough of him. His intoxicating cologne filled your nostrils and you had never felt more safe or happy. The love you shared felt like when the sun warms your skin under a golden hour sunset; bright yet soft, spectacular yet easy. And you were ready for it to never end.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS ARE SUPER APPRECIATED!! 

[stonesparrow]

OMGGG THANK U FOR REMINDING ME? happy birthday yuzu 🥳 i think a cute prompt bit would be maybe how she discovered her talent/passion for crafts for the first time!

Yuzuriha loved shopping with her mother. The five year old was entranced by all the colors, textures, and even smells in the department store, running her hands along the racks of soft coats and slippery dresses and giggling all the way.

“Yuzu, stay close to mommy, okay?” her mother said with a smile. Yuzuriha nodded, rubbing her face against a particularly squishy feeling scarf that was a delightful red color. It reminded Yuzuriha of strawberries and ladybugs and roses.

Her mother laughed at the little girl’s antics. “Oh, you sure like that do you? Well, you’ve been such a good girl today, would you like to buy it?”

Yuzuriha gasped, clutching the scarf to her chest. “Really? Her mother nodded and Yuzuriha squeaked with delight. “Thank you!”

As they walked home, Yuzuriha rubbed and squished the soft scarf around her neck with one hand while holding her mother’s hand with the other. She giggled at the feeling of the knit fabric in her fingers, face flushed with happiness.

Suddenly, her mother stopped, and so Yuzuriha stopped to. Because they were holding hands, of course. They were stood in front of a large display window, and Yuzuriha’s eyes widened.

“Woooooww...” The dress in the window was the prettiest thing she had ever seen! It was a soft teal color that made Yuzuriha think of the ocean, with white ruffles at the edge that made the layers of the skirt resemble waves. The bodice was embroidered with delicate curlicues and affixed with tiny glittering sequins. It looked like the kind of dress that a princess would wear.

Yuzuriha looked up at her mother. She was staring at the dress with a soft, wistful expression.

“Mommy?” Her mother startled and glanced down. “Are you gonna buy that dress? It’s so pretty!”

“Oh, no, honey.” Yuzuriha’s mother smiled gently at her. “Mommy has plenty of pretty dresses at home, and this one costs quite a bit of money anyway.” With a final glance at the gorgeous gown, Yuzuriha’s mother began walking away with her daughter in hand. Yuzuriha continued to stare at the display case as they walked away, until she could no longer crane her neck to keep it in vision.

Later that evening, Yuzuriha carefully snuck into her parents’ room and retrieved her mother’s sewing kit - primarily used to mend rips in Yuzuriha’s own clothing and occasionally that of her dolls.

Yuzuriha took the sewing kit into her own room and rifled around her drawers until she found a shirt that wasn’t quite the right color green, but would be good for practice.

With her little scissors, Yuzuriha cut the shirt into pieces and attempted to piece them together using her mother’s sewing kit, but as soon as she began her first stitch, she pricked herself.

“Ah!” Her squeak of pain alerted her parents from the other room, and Yuzuriha flushed a bright pink.

“If you promise to be more careful, I’ll show you how to sew,” her mother said, and Yuzuriha nodded fervently.

As her mother patiently guided Yuzuriha’s hands through the motions of passing a needle through fabric, Yuzuriha concentrated as hard as she could. Eventually, she succeeded in making a small pillow, “For your dollies,” as her mother said.

Yuzuriha’s eyes sparkled as she held up the tiny pillow. “Wow!” She ran up to her father, waving the pillow in his face. “Look Daddy, look! I made this!”

“Aw, it’s beautiful, sweetheart,” her father laughed, lifting Yuzuriha onto his lap.

“I’m going to learn to make all sorts of things!” Yuzuriha declared. "Not just pillows, I want to make dresses too!”

”Really now? Dresses are a lot more complicated than pillows you know,” Her mother said, running a hand through Yuzuriha’s hair. Yuzuriha nodded.

“Squishy dresses, slippy dresses, sparkly dresses, fluffy dresses, I want to learn it all!” She hugged the little pillow to her chest.

And one day, she thought, I’ll make Mommy a princess dress all on my own.