#severin-ealing

The back half of the car was large enough to stretch out her legs, but she didn’t. It was cold that day, especially for June, and the rain hadn’t stopped since Tuesday. Malle leaned back as the car churned into motion, the partition raised. The light outside was so dim and gray, it took all the color from their skin.

She sat silently, not wordlessly. There were words of course, and many, but none that needed to be said. They’d spoken. They’d strategized. There was a cover for what they were doing, and people who would see through it. But Malle was the Queen, named and crowned, and she needed to start acting like it.

Her knee brushed against his as she shifted, and she gave a small, polite smile. She didn’t apologize. She wasn’t going to do that anymore.

It had been absolute fucking bloody chaos. But they had won. Again. Dawn was finally breaking and there was complete silence except for the occasional moan or whimper from the badly injured. Alex and Maddox were laying together on the deck, their feet pointed each the other way and their heads rested besides each other. He could feel the other Brit twining his fingers through his hair, but at this point Alex wasn’t entirely sure that he could move a single muscle if he even wanted to. Their breathing was steadying and the adrenaline from the fight slowly leaving their bodies. Alex was the first to chuckle, Maddox following suit. Alex shifted, a pained groan hissing through his teeth as he pushed himself up on his elbows to look at Maddox with a grin. He could feel his hair snagging in Maddox’s fingers. ‘’The next time you decide to fucking vault over me during a fight, I’m going to vault you into the fucking sea, Keyes.’’ @keyes-tothecrown

Bo twirled on the barstool and leaned her back against the bar with her cider cradled carefully in her hands. “See,” she said with her head tilted in Maddox’s direction. “You fit right in with that hat.” At least half of the men in the bar were sporting some form of camouflage patterned baseball caps. Perhaps the only thing that made Maddox stick out was the fact that his American accent was garbage and if you kept watching him after he smiled there was definitely a glimpse of I’ll fucking kill you under the worn out hat brim. “It’s a cute look, Maddie boy.”

☕ ―

Titania was most definitely addicted to coffee throughout her teenage years. All those night she spent in her room illuminated by the light of the moon, and she needed the caffeine boost to keep her awake. She’d make herself a cup with half and half and about four packets of raw sugar…nothing too complicated. But then it kinda started making her jittery, and the crash that came after wasn’t very pleasant either.

So, she switched to tea. It started with simple greens and black teas, but then she got a fancy tea subscription for her birthday and she became something of a pretentious teas drinker. If she’s been at home all day, chances are she’s had about three cups; less caffeine but still quite caffeinated. 

Her tea is usually milk-free, with nothing but a few sugars, and maybe, just maybe, a few drops from a lemon wedge. 

🎵 ― 

Headcanon Meme

■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

Eli sleeps in the downstairs bedroom. The bed is in the corner of the room and very low to the ground. The room is uncluttered and light. There is a piece of a carved remnant wall that he uses as an altar. A bush of orange roses grow below his window. Also answered here.

♡ - romantic headcanon 

On her guard, Tempest didn’t hesitate when the barn door opened again. She threw up her hand and chanted the incantation meant to freeze an intruder where they stood. Her reserves were already low. An overwhelming urge to sleep hit her, and her head bobbed down once and jerked back up. She blinked, trying to focus.

@severin-ealing

♥ ― 

It’s something that’s been bringing some discomfort to her as of late, the shift in attitudes from her mother and father. Once she returned from the war, her mother and father expressed their pride in their youngest daughter. In the moment, Titania had just assumed that they were more than happy that she had returned, and that their grand appraisals would simmer the longer she had been home. But Titania was wrong. They would try to cook her favorite meals as often as possible, welcome her home the minute she walked through the door and would seemingly bend to her every will; hell, they didn’t even complain about her tendency to space out.

Titania just wants her parents to treat her the same, as their less than perfect child who still had so much to learn and so much growth to do. They assume that the war has changed her somehow, and they’re not wrong, but they go about this change in a way that isn’t favorable to Titania. She wants to be scolded for missing out on her chores, wants her mother to enter her room at the crack of dawn and open the blinds so that Titania is forced to wake up. But most of all, she wants to live as they had before things happened, she wants them to stop treating her as if she was something like porcelain ― they are both growing old and should be concerned with themselves, not protecting and caring for a daughter who should be doing as such for them.

♦ ― 

Titania keeps all of her receipts when she goes into town; not because of something like taxes or using those expenses to formulate a budget, no, it’s just that the young witch reads a lot. She’s often picking up books and random, and doesn’t like to dog-ear the pages, so she can be found digging in her purse for one of those receipts in order to use it as a bookmark. She’ll have a book in hand with all these flimsy pieces of paper sticking out, and TItania finds it quite resourceful. 

“Yes. Marshmallow is a much harder medium than one would think,” Aaron pointed out without looking away from the toothpicks he was impaling marshmallow balls upon. His gingerbread house was immaculate from the scalloped frosting shingles lined by red and green gumdrops to the beautifully crafted buttercream icing front yard. Aaron handed one of the marshmallow snowmen to Maddox. “Draw a face on that, bitte. And to answer your other question, I lost a bet.” Which was how he got wrangled into doing a gingerbread house competition up against professional bakers for charity. Had he won the bet, he would have been making houses with primary school children. Oh, well.