#i dunno i just think i need to be a little sentimental about this to convince myself that i enjoy doing this hjfbnkjgbnj | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katsukiizmoon · 1 year

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╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🥛 ┊boba time ┊Mama’s Harvest ꒱

『♡』 pregnancy

Your fingers fiddle with the little flower bud in your hands and you use the back of your hand to wipe sweat from your forehead. The sun is beginning to beat down on you, drenching your skin in rays.

“Almost done?” Katsuki startles you, leaning over from behind where you kneel.

You bounce, dropping the flower and turning around to give him a glare.

“Yeah, jus’ gotta finish pollinating the squash or it’ll produce less..” You remind, returning to the task at hand.

He chuckles, rolling his eyes and begins making his way through the garden with a basket in hand. Leaves rustle and the tell-tale sound of stuff flopping to the ground let’s you know he’s harvesting.

“Babe..” He calls and you glance over in his direction.

“Hmmm?” You wonder, nearly finished with your chores.

“How many peppers did you plant?” Katsuki inquires and you freeze.

“Uhhh..” Your mind races for an answer and you begin counting on your fingers. Whispering to yourself and naming off varieties.

“We’re gonna drown in peppers, holy shit.” He jokes, rounding one of the rows with a massive basket filled with different pepper varieties.

Katsuki rushes you inside, complaining that you shouldn’t be in the heat for too long and you pout. Still, you do as told and go inside to make lunch and relax.

There’s a lot of pros to your husband being a pro hero. One, you don’t need to work. You can if you want to but you don’t. Katsuki gives you all the money you want and more, no questions asked.

He doesn’t push unrealistic expectations on you, either. You had a career for years of your relationship and for the first two years of being married.

But when Katsuki came behind you with red cheeks and shy eyes, saying he wanted s little one, it was time for a change. Pregnancy is hard on the body and both of you thought it would be best to have you home for at least the first three years of the little melons life.

You aren’t far along, either. But your husband is persistent.

You watch from the kitchen window as he grabs another basket and scissors, only to come back with an abundance of herbs and fruits. Nothing in life rivals these moments.

You turn, grabbing s large knife and a cutting board to begin slicing a bunch of green onion. The knife hits the bamboo with a satisfying “knock knock knock” and you sigh in content.

Nausea bubbles in your throat and you push it down, thinking about all good things.

The door creaks open and Katsuki places the woven baskets on the table. You hear footsteps before his large hands are on your lower tummy. His head comes to rest on top of yours, where the places a kiss and sighs.

“So, when should we tell ma?” He ponders.

The cutting stops and you set down the metal utensil, turning to face him. Your arms wrap around his shoulders where they lay purchase, tugging your body closer to his own.

“Mmm.. not sure m’ love. Whadd’you think?” You mirror his mindset, unsure of what the best option would be.

“Well you’re the one growing the baby, so I thought you’d wanna do it a certain way- I dunno people get sentimental about this shit.” Katsuki’s damp lips come to rest on your forehead for a moment.

“Well I can’t hide it much longer- fuck it why don we just invite them over for dinner to get some of these peppers? We can tell em then!” You propose, shooting a look at all the excess fruit and vegetables.

“Yeah, we can do that, I’ll tell ‘em. What time?”

Katsuki’s breaking away, using his hip to bump you over so he can take over cooking. You smack his shoulder and he flinches. It stings even when he’s got a dark grey shirt on, no match for your mood.

You scowl and grab another cutting board and a bell pepper. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off.

“Baby I’m pregnant not dying. I’m cutting the damn bell pepper. And mm eight, we’ll do that.”

Before long, all the colorful foods are cut and turned into a large dinner. Sitting in front of you is chicken legs smothered in seasonings and drizzled in gravy over mashed potatoes. Your stomach grumbles and you nearly sigh in relief when his parents walk in.

The conversation continues as normal until you’re met with a wave of nausea. Your face scrunches and despite attempting to hide it- his mother notices. His father isn’t paying any mind, looking at the massive side salad you’ve prepared.

Her eyes narrow and her mouth opens.

“So, uh-“ Katsuki begins, cherry eyes flicking over to meet your own.

“I’m pregnant.” You reveal and his mother slaps the shit out of katsuki on instinct.

It isn’t malicious, she’s practically bouncing. A wide grin wipes across her face and she looks toward her husband with a giggle.

“Fucking FINALLY!” She yells and katsuki looks at her incredulously.

“Don’t look at me like that Katsuki! I’ve been wanting grand babies for years now!” His mother scolds, looking at you with a bright smile.

Katsuki takes a breath, nice and slow to steady himself, while your mother prods with questions. You’re eating, talking about the ins and outs of pregnancy while his father pitches in warmly.

He grumbles in the corner, telling his mom to shut up, and makes faces at some of the things he didn’t expect.

“Yunno, with this asshole, I really craved sweets. But the hardest part of being pregnant with him was probably the hemorrhoids and kicking. God- the kicking was horrible.” His mother explains, stuffing a last bite of mashed potato in her mouth.

You giggle at your husbands angry and confused face from the side. He seems almost offended that pregnancy could be so horrible.

“Why was the kicking so bad?” He pokes, much more gentle than usual.

“Ahh.. it feels like butterflies at first, yunno? But you moved a lot-“ she grabs a sip of water, tilting her head towards him, and places the glass back down.

“-that’s fine and all at first. But you got stronger and it hurt, at one point you had your foot pressed against my ribs for two hours! You’d just kick and it was a constant mild uncomfortable feeling..”

The blonde to your right furrows his brows and takes a sip of his own water. The metal fork he was once using placed on the side of his dish.

“Well, that… makes sense.” Katsuki thinks out loud and looks over towards you.

The dinner ends with kisses and hugs. His mother says she’s coming over in a few days with a couple pregnancy life savers and demands to have copies of the ultrasounds.

Katsuki takes his time that night while you bathe. He massages your shoulders and back, up your ankles and thighs and kisses your tummy. You catch him whispering for the little melon to be sweet to you and nearly coo at the man.

The next day, he brings in a large notebook and grabs a pen. “Baby Food” is messily written at the top and you smile.

A kiss is placed to the top of his head, then a kiss to your lower stomach, like it’s becoming routine.

There’s something fond, simple, and beautiful about the way he falls into fatherhood without question.

#pregnancy #bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #strawberry cake #boba time #boba series: garden

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justafewsmallsteps · 5 months

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omg omg it’s @inuvember day 19: Inuyasha & Kagome

I didn’t have anything planned so I threw this together quickly. Here’s some super rushed and rough art and a drabble from an AU I’d like to call “What If (we made out all over Feudal Japan)?” where… well…… I think you get it.

What If?

Kagome sucked in her lips, biting down on them from inside with nervous uncertainty. He wasn’t doing well.

If a quick kiss worked to heal him, just a little bit, then… What would a longer kiss do? Work the same? Work better?

“C-can I try… the thing?” she asked.

“Kiss me?” He asked, barely able to focus on her.

“You lost so much blood, and the poison is–”

“I’m human, I dunno if it’ll work.”

“I know, but I have to try something.” She was blinking back her tears.

Even blinking felt like work. “Yeah… okay.”

Kagome bent down and turned his face gently to hold it with a trembling hand.

Please let this work, she thought desperately as her lips settled over his chapped ones. Instead of pulling away quickly as she did the times before, she lingered, pressing a little harder too. Please work, please work, please work.

Tears fully glossing her eyes, Kagome finally pulled back just a little. She clung painfully onto the bit of hope in her heart.

“Anything?” She whispered as a heavy drop fell.

“I dunno… but that was… nice,” he sighed.

She pouted, voice thickened by a stuffy nose from crying. “You said it was gross to kiss me.”

Inuyasha furrowed his brow, like he was trying to remember. “Sorry. That… was a lie…”

A blush erupted onto her face. Was that…? Was he being sweet? “Oh god, you’re delirious aren’t you? You’re–”

“Kagome,” he interrupted. “I think…”

She heard a light scratch at the floor and saw his hand shift. “You can move?” she gasped, the hope suddenly bursting.

“Yeah, I’m starting to get some feeling back. I think it worked a little.”

Kagome practically leapt back onto him, kissing him fiercely with both hands cupping his cheeks. She pulled back and kissed him again and again until she felt him grip her arms.

“Woah there, Kagome.”

She only moved back a few inches. “It worked, right? So—“

His face was redder than his haori. Hers follows his example.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, pushing himself to sit up slightly. “It’s working, alright.”

Clearly the numbness was fading and her tactics were effective. That didn’t ease their embarrassment.

She nearly huffed, “What’s the problem?”

“Just give it a minute. No amount of kissing is going to turn me back into a hanyou, so we’re still screwed until sunrise.”

“I’m still mad at you about that. You should’ve told me. You should’ve trusted me with that much! Now we’re here.” She wanted to shout, but with Shippou and Nazuna sleeping in the corner, she kept her words to an angry hush. Still, the overwhelmed tears caught his attention.

He pursed his lips. “Why were you—are you—crying?”

Kagome let out an indignant sound. “Because I’m frustrated and scared! I thought you were going to die, I thought we all were going to die. We still might. This sucks!” It was a childish way to end her sentiment, but screw it! It did suck!

“Why… did you kiss me?”

She almost sputtered. “Because I need you to get better!”

“To save you?”

“To not die, you idiot! I don’t want you to die! Obviously!” She scrubbed her face angrily. Why was he being so weird?

Then he spoke, soft but firm, “One more.”

Kagome blinked. “One more what?”

“Time,” Inuyasha said, and without warning pulled her closer to lock their mouths together.

And he was right.

It was nice… His lips have warmed up, even though they’re dry and rough. It’s the first time that this feels mutual–not just contact between two bodies. It feels almost like this is real…

“Sorry,” Inuyasha muttered when they came apart. “I still couldn’t feel my toes.”

Funny, since Kagome felt hers tingling—her toes to her spine, to her fingertips, to the very top of her head.

She felt out of breath when she asked him, “Do you feel better now?”

“Yeah,” his hand came up to her cheek. “I can feel things again.”

#inuvember #day 19 #inukag #inuyasha #Kagome higurashi #jelly fic #jelly art #justafewsmallsteps #did you know the fact that #RT has stated that #the first time Kagome cries for him is the first time Inuyasha believes anyone cares about his life #is something I constantly obsess over #I could rewrite this a hundred times #ugh I love them so much I'm uNWELL

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sciderman · 2 months

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thinking about what if situations, dunno why but I have the image in my head of Uncle Ben with Pete in hospital after he over does it doing Spider-man shit, Ben's worried. At the hospital, Ben meets a very uncertain Wade Wilson, suffering in his hospital bed with a cancer diagnosis, thinking about if going into the Weapon X program is genuinely worth it, they start talking. Ben talks about life, about how you shouldn't survive just to be alive, you should survive so you can live. Ben doesn't tell him to join the weapon X but he doesn't tell him not too, they just have a genuine deep talk about both sides until Ben needs to go back to Peter. I can literally hear Wade going, “That was fucking stupid", in his head, all that sentimental spiritual shit.. But.. It genuinely does help him, whether he realises it or not. Dunno, just like the idea of it, maybe years later when Peters talking about Uncle Ben, Wade finally feels brave enough to tell him about the time in hospital where he spoke to him.

hmm. i really think the "survive to live" philosophy isn't exactly a very uncle ben coded message. i think uncle ben doesn't embody that - he's a very selfless guy. he will put the needs of others above his own, always. he's like peter in that way - or, at least, peter wants to be like uncle ben. wants to be selfless, like uncle ben was. and he's actually not very good at it. he has to work at it. and it's difficult.

i think the "survive to live" philosophy aligns more with aunt may. aunt may is more about the self, and personal happiness - even though she's a nurse and she's very nurturing and selfless too. aunt may is kind of a free spirit - in fact, i think aunt may and wade have a very similar approach to life and love, and i had written a WHOLE lot of scripts about that. that aunt may and wade - they're kind of obscenely alike. that aunt may didn't know if she could make compromises and be selfless enough to succeed in love.

there are a lot of parallels between what wade and peter are going through, and how ben and may were, as dumb kids. may was a kind of free-spirit, who didn't actually see herself as settling down with ben parker. but ben was a patient, loving, supportive man, who waited for her.

a parker boy doesn't give up on love. he'll stupidly hang on, forever and ever.

I think there’s an irony to that “survive to live” philosophy being the entire wholeass opposite of what peter takes away from the death of uncle ben.

I can’t really speak to uncle ben’s philosophy - I don’t think “great power great responsibility” in whatever way he said it (or didn’t say it - remember, in the comics it was never actually said by uncle ben) - peter definitely took his own lesson from uncle ben’s death and I don’t think it was meant by uncle ben at all. in fact, i think wade might have even been onto something when he said -

obviously uncle ben wouldn’t say that. but - fact is, great power great responsibility is a self-imposed lesson from peter. and it has very little to do with what uncle ben actually meant when he said it in 9319.

I think uncle ben might’ve meant that peter had a responsibility to the people in his life. and a responsibility to himself. that he couldn’t just - disengage with life and shut himself away from it and avoid things and run away from things. it's actually a lesson that is hammered into peter over and over again, and a mistake he keeps repeating.

he uses his responsibilities as spider-man as an excuse to run away from his responsibilities as peter parker.

i think uncle ben would've been disappointed to see all the mistakes peter made with the people he's loved. all the secrets and lies he's kept - uncle ben was a chronically honest man. but he was a simple guy - he didn't have any secrets. may - may's more understanding about it. she knows sometimes secrets are necessary, at a time.

i think it's awesome and sexy that, finally - all the elements are coalescing so that peter will finally learn the lesson that uncle ben actually intended for him to learn.

sorry, i went off on a tangent again. but man, i should finish those wade/may posts. may is so, so good for wade. she'll heal him. i think all wade needed was the love of a mother.

#sci speaks #ask-spiderpool #meta

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bisexual-horror-fan · 11 months

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Ooooh okay multi-may request inspired by my new job bc i’m proud of myself but my dearest dearest bex can i PLEASE req some of our poly!ghostface boys getting absolutely rock fucking hard about their parter coming home smelling like vanilla and cookies and bringing them a selection of all their favorite flavors, thinking of their boys even when they’ve been working hard all night because the whole shift is fueled by the knowledge of coming home to billy and stu 🥺 and also the knowledge that the little gesture of bringing them treats to start their day with is basically a one way ticket to getting overstimulated to oblivion by the two of them right there in their apartment kitchen. also i have NOT forgotten your extra poly ghostface request i’m just slow you know me by know akshskhs i promise to make it worth the wait when i’ve adjusted to my new schedule okay i love u

K! You lovely, amazing, sweetheart! So glad you submitted a request for Multi-May! Loved getting the chance to do some classic poly!Ghostface goodness. I hope it is up to your standard, it ain’t long, but it is domestic and dirty too! Seriously, hoping it hits for you, let’s fucking goooo!

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 1.3K. Billy Loomis And Stu Macher X GN! Reader. They/Them Pronouns. No Parts Specified. Poly!Ghostface. Warnings: Established Relationship. Post Scream One. College Aged And Sharing An Apartment. Domestic Fluff. Sweet Stuff. Groping. Biting. Marking. Hickies. Oral Sex. Penetrative Sex. Fingering. Overstimulation. Begging. Double Penetration. Cream Pie.

—

Sweet On You.

—

Waking up without you could be so difficult, finding the space they would prefer you to be in bed, sadly, empty morning after morning is tough, but hey? What can they do? You need to work. They were thankful however that most mornings they got to catch you before their own days truly started, it was something to look forward to honestly, spending time with you before they had to deal with whatever bullshit was ahead. Thankfully this morning they are greeted to the sound of the front door unlocking and you coming home to your shared apartment with a fond call of, “Hello?”

“Hey, we’re in the kitchen.” Called back Billy. Your shoes abandoned, bag slung over your shoulder and box in your hands you come into the kitchen to see your boyfriends, not dressed to leave the house yet, still clad in pyjamas. “There you are, hey boys.”

You shrug the bag off, leave it on a nearby chair, set down the box and you make the rounds. Billy was seated at the table, you leaned down and kissed him with a quiet, “Good morning.”

You pulled back, a smile spread across his face, he expressed the same sentiment before coming over to the other man, standing at the counter still fixing his coffee, you lean up and give Stu a similar moment of affection. “Mornin’.” Stu began,“How was work?”

“Fine, mundane, thoroughly usual.” You tell him easily before asking, “And your night? You two sleep well?”

“Was fine, but more importantly, what smells so incredible?” Stu asks and you smile, walking back to the box you previously ditched on the table, you flipped it open, and turned it to show it off. “Baked these at work last night, couldn’t stop thinking about you both and thought it would be nice.”

The box in your hands is practically bursting with an assortment of your boyfriends favorite cookies from your work.

“How sweet are you? I’ll bring one along for my lunch today.” Billy said but Stu snorted, “Fuck lunch, I’m having one now.”

“A cookie for breakfast?” Billy questioned and Stu said, “What? What’s the issue with that?”

Billy's nose scrunches up, a small shake of his head as he asks, “I dunno man, the fact we’re adults?”

Stu laughed as he selected out the cookie he wanted from the box, a roll of his eyes as he said, “That is just why I can do it dude, we’re adults, that means if we want we can eat cookies for breakfast and who’s gonna stop us?”

“The man is right.” You state with a nod, bringing the box over to Billy, “C’mon Loomis, indulge, have the damn cookie, I worked really hard on em. It isn’t that much different from a donut or a pastry anyway, right?”

“Twist my arm.” Billy said affectionately as he plucked out his own confectionery of choice. Stu let out a moan behind you, a look over your shoulder to see him having taken his first bite, a hand over his mouth, “Fuck, that is so good.”

And a similar reaction from the brunette after taking a bite himself, “Is it possible to taste the love baked into something?”

“Didn’t think it could be true but they are convincing me with every treat they bring home.” Stu sighs, he set the cookie down and he came over, wrapping you up in a hug, he leaned down slightly, to make this happen, his back to your chest. You bask in the contact, leaning back into him and he inhales, “Wait a fucking second.”

“What?” You asked and he said, hand squeezing your waist, “That delicious smell isn’t the cookies, it’s you.”

Billy got up from his spot at the table, “Is it?” He comes forward, hands cradle your face and he tilts your head down, smelling your hair. Stu asked with a far too cocky grin, “Well?”

“Like vanilla.” Billy agreed and Stu continued, his chin resting on your shoulder, “But more than that, right? Depth to it.”

“Yeah, you smell like you but sweeter.” He tilts your head back up, meeting your gaze before he leans in and kisses you, Stu asks, “S’ good right?”

“So good-” He hums in between kisses that you were hurriedly returning, fuck, you missed them, the sudden make out bringing the reminder of that to the forefront of your mind. With a push of Stu’s hips you feel how hard he is, a surprised moan into the kiss wondering when the fuck that happened. “Can you get over how good they are? Already so busy and have so much to do at work and they are still thinking about us.”

Billy broke the contact, praising you and answering Stu as he said, “We stuck fucking gold man.”

“How long until we gotta leave for class?” Stu asked and with a glance to the clock Billy replied with a grin, “A half hour.”

“Oh that is more than enough time.”

“More than enough time for what?” You asked and Stu was already tugging on your shirt, “To show our appreciation, of course.”

Your boyfriends were exceptionally good at showing their appreciation for you regularly, but any and all effort expended in that way was always fantastic, especially when it was done like this. Right now it was shown via Stu sucking hickies into your skin with his hands wandering as Billy prepped you. In short order you were in Billy’s lap, he was back in a chair at the kitchen table, your legs spread wide, his hands under your knees as he fucked up into you, Stu on his knees between your legs and using his tongue to great affect.

“You think-” Billy pants with another move of his hips, “-ugh, think they get it yet?”

Stu pulled off your over sensitive flesh with a wet pop, his chin is soaked with mess, both from you and his own spit, “I dunno. Let’s ask. Hey baby?”

You are still moaning incoherently, they share a laugh and Billy stops and the lack of pleasure makes you whine, it sends you squirming. He leans in, nose runs up your throat, a lazy kiss is laid down as he cockwarms you before he says, “Patience honey, we got a question for you.”

A questioning hum comes from you and he asks, “Do you get how much we appreciate you yet?”

You open your mouth to respond but Stu nips at your inner thigh and you nearly yelp, legs threaten to close but Billy is still holding you wide open, a groan spills out of Billy from your hole clenching around his cock. A smack to your inner thigh has your attention snap to Stu, “Answer the question.”

A bite of your bottom lip and you shake your head, you felt selfish, you wanted more, wanted all they had to give before they had to head out for the day and leave you alone for hours, so you lied and said, “I don’t think I get it yet.”

“Well we gotta fix that. You gotta know just how much we love you.” Stu sighed, two fingers slipped into his mouth, he sucked and your brows furrowed in confusion before those same and now slick fingers are between your legs. He effectively answers your question before you can ask it when he begins to work them in alongside Billy’s dick. “You think they can handle us both?”

“Christ man, you tyrna break em first thing in the morning? They’ve been at work all night, maybe we should take it easy-” Billy’s voice sounded strained, breathy, he wasn't able to stay still, slow rocks of his hips. He was thrusting gently and shallowly, desperate for more stimulation the same way you were, his sentence breaks off with a groan at the feeling of Stu's fingers rocking in and out of your hole, pressed tightly up against his shaft.

“They are begging for it, you know they want it.” Stu is pulling his hand away, fingers leave you and he is opening his pants, “Don’t you?”

A frantic nod as you beg, pathetic and needy, “Ye-yeah I want it, please-”

“You sure?” Billy asked quietly, both his and your eyes are locked on Stu, well lubed and starting to line up just right, “Yeah, fuck, need you bo-both-”

"God, fucking love you so much." Billy whispered as he didn't stop or slow, in fact starting to pick up the pace once again, steady sound of skin on skin as his cock slides in and out.

“Who are we to deny you?” Stu asks, hands locked on your hips as he pushes forward, starting to slowly work his way in, you suck in a harsh inhale and Billy agrees breathlessly, “When you beg so pretty like that too.”

By the time it was over, they were late for class and rushing out the door, half eaten cookies in hand and you were tucked into bed, overstimulated, unable to speak, leaking an obscene amount of cum and on the verge of passing out. You were feeling satisfied and yes, thoroughly loved and appreciated. You should bake for them and come home smelling like work more often.

#Poly!Ghostface x reader #slasher x reader #BHF writing #BHF asks #Multi-May #ENJOY #Truly classic and man love some dp

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piss-pumpkin · 5 months

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🌹“Just as friends”🌹

(Older)Dipper pines x reader, Chapter 3 of Douce amere

~4.5k words

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Tw for those who need it- food/eating, several awful sex jokes 💀

You jolted awake. Pacifica’s alarm was loud, and she did not silence it soon enough. She rolled out of bed beside you, falling to the floor before standing up. “Food?”

You rubbed your eyes, “Got an extra tooth brush?”

”Yeah,” she muttered, voice hoarse. “Then food.”

…

Pacifica led you to the main foyer, where housekeepers and maids were setting up tables. Some held food, others simply face table cloths for people to mingle at.

“And you lied to me and said this was small and unimpressive,” you said, staring in wonder at the scene. There was a rather large dessert table, complete with a chocolate fountain and strawberries on sticks.

”Yeah, whatever I guess. It’s a little big if you aren’t used to better.” Pacifica showed you to the kitchen, where a cake of at least five layers was sat, completely iced in orange and pink frosting. “Anyway, there’s breakfast if you want it,” she said, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard. “Are you a morning eater?”

You yawned, “Eh, I can be. What do you got?”

She opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of strawberries, and started to wash them. “Pretty much everything,” she said, pouring her berries into the bowl.

You squinted. It was far to early to think about what you could possibly want, if anything. “I’ll just have what you’re having, I guess.”

Pacifica poured the other half of the strawberries into a second bowl, and handed it to you. “Let’s get out of here, it’s too busy.”

You started back upstairs with her to her room, trying not to get in the way of preparation. As you walked, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out as you ascended the stairs, you saw it was Dipper. You smiled.

“Dip is asking the dress code, he apparently didn’t bring anything fancy,” you laughed. “He wants to know if he can just wear his normal clothes.”

Pacifica smirked, “he can’t be serious, right?” She flopped onto her bed, and held the bowl of strawberries by her chest.

You followed behind, and sat down with her. “Man, you know he’s fucking serious,” you said, looking down at your phone and beginning to make fun of him over text.

”Well tell him we’ll supply him with something, I guess,” she said, looking at her closet. “You know I have guy clothes.”

You looked down and idly typed the message. “We’re making him wear a suit right?”

Pacifica smiled, “Yep. Tux, I think. probably bow tie?”

”I was thinking regular tie, I feel like that’s a better look.”

Pcifica thought a moment, and popped a strawberry in her mouth. “I dunno… maybe you’re right,” she pondered. “We could make him try both and decide which is better?”

You nodded, “sounds good.” You ate a strawberry. Quite sweet. You let the leafy tops collect at one side of the bowl. “So do you still like… like him?”

Pacifica looked up, “I mean… kind of. The same way i would after not seeing him in person for like, a year.” She pursed her lips, as if straining her mind for the thought. “I dunno. I think about him less when he’s away. But the feeling is still there, kind of?”

You nodded. Her feelings were a little different then yours, but the same sentiment.

“What about you, you still-“

”Yep. Awful, too,” you shook your head, eating another strawberry. You squinted your eyes, and sucked a breath in through your teeth, “I am absolutely down bad.”

“My condolences,” Pacifica sighed. “We’ve all been there

You laughed, “At least we agree he’ll look really cute in a suit.”

Pacifica threw her head back on the pillow. “Ugh, right? We gotta dress his ass up.”

You smiled, “I’m also curious about what Mabel is doing, I think she is making her own dress.” You plucked your last strawberry off its stem. “I think she made it in like, a night. She could be cooking.”

”Or it could be a disaster, and we have to find her a last minute dress.”

”That is an equal possibility, I think.”

…

Pacifica and yourself were waiting by the door as the party was starting. There were people, standing, mingling. Nobody interesting, not yet. Though by the way Pacifica was talking, you weren’t sure there was anyone interesting on the roster besides you and the twins.

Much to both of your surprise, Mabel’s dress was fine. Good, even, shocking as it was. She came in first, wearing a blue dress with a shocking amount of sequins for how little time it took.

Dipper followed behind his sister, dressed in nothing fancy, and looking rather out of place among the few guests that had arrived this early. You and Pacifica waved the pair over. Mabel bounced closer, running ahead of Dipper and greeting you both with a wide smile, “Wow, you guys look amazing!”

You pumped your fists in the air with excitement. “You too, I can’t believe you made that!” you exclaimed, looking her dress up and down. “You’re insane!”

Mabel giggled, and twirled in a small circle, letting her skirt lift and spin. “Just insane enough,” she laughed.

Pacifica snickered, “That’s highly debatable.”

Just as Mabel was about to retort, Dipper came up beside her, and leaned his arm on her shoulder. “It’s true Mabel, she’s right.”

Pacifica eyed up Dipper, “Yeah, Dip, hopefully you know you’re not going to be wearing that, right?”

Dipper sighed, “yeah, I know, I know.”

Pacifica looked to you, “We take him to get changed before the rest of the guests arrive?”

You nodded.

Mabel laughed, and hit Dipper on the back. “Alright, you go get prettied up, bro.” She smacked him once more before bouncing off of him, “I’m gonna get punch, and get a date.” With that she was off, as Dipper was giving her a mildly annoyed look.

You and Pacifica led him to the back, where Pacifica handed him a hanger with his clothes. “Okay,” she looked to you, “Y/n, help him if he needs it, change room is on the right, and I need to go greet people.”

You nodded, “Godspeed.”

”And good luck,” Dipper added.

And then you were alone with your just as friends date. “Alright, you get ready, there’s a tie and a bow tie, too, your pick.”

Dipper entered the change room, and closed the curtain behind him. “Mmmk,” he said.

You leaned on a wall, waiting. “Did you read ahead without me, last night?” you asked, idly looking around.

”No, actually, I wasn’t sure if we were reading it together, so I played it safe,” he said though the curtain. You could hear faint rustling sounds from the other side. “Are we?”

You nodded, despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, “Yeah, it’s book club.” You straightened your back against the wall, and tapped your foot on the ground. “Thanks for waiting for me,” you smiled, “Also hurry up.”

”I am hurrying.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “This is not was hurrying looks like.”

You heard faint grumbling from him before Dipper emerged from the change room in a suit. With a black tie. The one you had chosen… but he didn’t know that. You smiled, “Well, you look good, all fancy like.”

He adjusted the sleeves and fiddled with the cuffs. “Uh- thanks,” he said, smiling softly. He closed the curtain behind him, and looked away from you, to the floor. “Y-you too, I forgot to mention earlier…”

You raised your brow, smiling. He was still looking at the floor away from you, so you moved in front of him, and leaned over slightly, forcing him to see you. “Why thank you,” you snickered. “I better look good, it took Pacifica all night to style me.”

Dipper stepped back slightly, face pinkish. “I assume she’s responsible for this, too?” he said, gesturing at his own clothes.

You stood back up tall, “I want to say you were a team effort, actually.” You took his wrist in your hand, and turned it over so you could see the sleeve. “The cuff links were my pick,” you said, tapping them. “Same with the tie”

Dipper instinctively moved is hand to his chest, and thumbed over the tie. “Well chosen, it’s really soft,” he said.

You smiled, spinning away from him and offering your hand. “I’m actually surprised you were able to tie it without help, I was ready to call Pacifica in to do it for you.”

Dipper took your hand, and gave it a slight squeeze. “I actually looked it up while I was in there,” he laughed, pulling your hand closer to him, and linking your arms.

You both started out to the main room, “God, that’s why you took so long in there?” you asked. You came to the foyer, which was now filled with a substantial amount of people, and you knew even more were set to come.

“Wow, lots of people…” Dipper said, trailing off. “Where did Mabel and Pacifica go?”

You looked around, taking in the scene. The tables you’d seen the staff setting up before were now filled with food, or set with chairs for dining and mingling. Gentle orchestral and piano music was playing, and several people were dancing a waltz. “Pacifica is gonna be busy for a while, she has to socialize,” you said, scanning the room for your friends. “And it appears Mabel had been lost to the party.”

Dipper sighed, shaking his head. “Of course she is, we’re not gonna see her for a while, are we.”

”No we will not,” you said, walking with him along the edge of the room. “I bet she’s looking for somebody to dance with,” you pondered. “Hey, we should dance.”

Dipper looked at you, curiously. “Y/n, neither of us know how to waltz.”

You took Dippers hand, gliding your fingers up his palm before lacing them together. “Come on, it can’t be that hard, right?”

His hand was sweaty, and his face was slightly red. “Y/n, I think you are seriously underestimating my awkwardness,” he said. Despite it, he let you lead him to the floor, where people were dancing in step.

”I’m sure your fine, nobody really knows how to dance,” you laughed.

Dipper closed his eyes and shook his head, curling his face into a perplexed expression when he opened them. “What the actual fuck do you mean?” He used his head to gesture around the room. “Literally everyone here knows how to dance, that is what they are all dancing.”

You sighed, still smiling. “Come on, all you need is rhythm, I think.” You placed his hand on your waist, and your in his shoulder. “I think this is how it goes, yeah?” You looked around, scanning the other dancers in the room. They were mostly adults and old people, all of whom looked rich. But they did have the same positioning as you. “Yeah, I think we’ve got this.”

”Y/n, I have no rhythm,” he said. You could feel the warmth from his palm on your hip. It was light too, like he was afraid of putting the weight of his hand on you. “Plus this is a rich old person song.” He was stiff, as if his knees were locked. The hand you still held was shaky, the vessel for his anxious movements. You rubbed your thumb over his to try and calm him. Or at least offer some courage.

“Then let me lead,” you said softly. You started to move, and pull him along to the music. You looked around and tried to mimic the dancing of others. “Hey, this isn’t that bad, you’re fine.”

He was still apprehensive, stiff. “I, uh-“ he almost tripped, stepping on your foot. “Sorry.”

You shook you head, “Don’t be, probably my fault,” You smiled a moment, “you see, not so hard.”

“Not what your mom was saying last night,” he spat quickly.

You shook your head, hiding your tired smile. “Just couldn’t resist, huh?” You said, gliding across the room, still leading. You saw an old man dip his partner, and gained an idea.

As you led Dipper, you started to take more control. You knew if you tried to dip him out of the blue, he’d resist. You wouldn’t be able to. Unless…

You moved toward the edge of the dance floor, in case it went wrong, and to both fell on the ground. As you did, you stood straight up and tall, and swept the leg.

”Augh-“ Dipper tried to form a word, but was too late. You swept one leg, leaving him vulnerable to be pushed down with the free, non catching hand. As he fell, that hand slipped under his back to stop him before he hit the ground.

You smirked down at him, holding him there for a moment before pulling him up.

His eyes were wide, and face slightly red. Though that could have been from fear. “You realize my life just flashed before my eyes, right?” He blinked a few times, as if reacquainting himself with standing.

You started again to the centre. “Whaaaat?” you laughed. Across the floor you saw another move, a spin this time.

Dipper noticed too though, and followed your eyes across the room, landing in the same couple. “Oh, don’t even thing about it.”

You snickered, “you know me too well.” You still intended to do it. As you subtly moved your hands across his to reposition to spin him, he caught you off guard. He must have been watching the motion of the dancers too, because he threw his arm out to try and spin you. Unlike you, he didn’t have the tactical skill to force the spin, like you did the dip, but you were one to play the game. As he led you, you spun out, then back in close, placing your chest nearly against his. “Hey, man’s got moves!”

”Heh, thanks,” he stuttered, intensely aware of the new closeness.

You were aware of it too. You smirked, almost feeling the heat from his face. Your hands glided smoothly away from his and to the back of his neck, where you laced your fingers together. “And you were worried,” you smiled.

He was looking at you with wide eyes, and slightly parted lips. They caught your attention, your gaze flickering from his big brown eyes down to his slightly pink lips. Fuck, you were not subtle today. Dipper swallowed, “Yeah… nothing to worry about. You wouldn’t let me fall.”

You snickered, “Oh, I’d let you fall, alright.” You looked at him with an almost shit eating grin. A pun-smile, so to speak. “Get it, it has a double meaning.”

Dipper flushed. “Uh, I mean-“

You were blushing too, you could feel it. To close. To much, to hard. You backed out, pulling away from his chest. ”Or maybe it just means I’ll do this,” you say, sweeping his leg again and barely catching him on the way down. He let out a startled sound again, having been caught only inches from the floor. Just as you were leaned over him, about to pull him up, you let him fall to the floor. “Like that.”

Dipper grumbled, laying with his back on the ground for a moment, as if in protest. “You know,” he started, exasperated. The blush wasn’t completely faded from his face, but it was close.

As he moved to get up, you put a hand out in front of him to help him. He looked at it a moment with pursed lips before taking it. You pulled him up. “But hey, who could ever resist falling in love with me,” you said, punctuating your claim by putting your hand beneath your chin to frame your face.

“Literally nobody, you’re so effortlessly charming,” he said, sarcastically. He took your hand again, and pulled you close to his chest like before, and started to dance again. Looks like you got through to him? Or he’s humouring you. Either way. You moved your feet with his, letting him lead. It didn’t seem like he even realized it was you following him now.

You shrugged, “Hey, your words.” Your hands found their way back to his neck. You felt the brush of his hair on your fingers, and lingered on the feeling. His hair was soft.

“Are they really though?”

”That doesn’t even make sense, Dippin dots,” you shook your head.

Dippers face flattened, “oops,” he said, stepping on your foot.

“Hey!” you exclaimed playfully.

“Deserved,” Dipper sighed. The song ended. Come to think of it, it wasn’t the song you started on.

“Those are fighting words, Dipstick.” You thought for a moment as Dipper led you along the floor. He wasn’t all that bad at this. “I could…” you hesitated, and laughed at yourself as you said it. “Pull your hair, or something,” you said, fingers trailing up his neck to brush against his locks. Smooth.

Dipper laughed immediately, and then feigned shock and horror. He gasped, “You can’t! What if I cum!”

You stifled a laugh, pulling away, and gut punched him playfully. “Jesus Christ, you are awful. Like downright terrible, that physically hurt me.” You shook your head, and turned away from him to hide your smirk. Fucking terrible.

“Obligatory masochism joke?” He questioned.

You turned back to him, “Nah, that one’s a stretch.”

Dipper shook his head, “You’re just a critic, I swear.” He folded his arms at his chest. “Honestly, your comedy is lacking,” he scoffed with faux condescension.

You sighed, smiling despite yourself. “Yeah, whatever, you absolute comedian.” You shook your head, looking at the floor to avoid his eyes. You snaked your arm around his, unfolding it from the other, “You can tell me all about how funny you are on the way to the snack table, yeah?”

Dipper easily linked his arm with yours, “Good plan.”

…

You lingered with him near the chocolate fountain, showing dessert strawberries in your mouth. There was no getting sick of strawberries, was there?

”Y/n, Y/n, look over there,” Dipper said, poking you. You followed his eyes, and landed on Mabel across the room, flirting with a rich looking guy. You squinted, trying to read the reaction of the guy.

“Mabel? What, who is that?” You said, curious.

”What? No,” he said, shaking his head. He pointed this time, and moved your head to direct your eyes in the direction. “Cheese fountain.”

”Cheese fountain?” You asked, unsure where he was going. The phrase cheese fountain did not evoke a good feeling from you. The concept didn’t seem appetizing.

“Cheese strawberry, I dare you.”

You opened your mouth, in some sort of surprise. “Oh, you bitch, why would you dare me that?”

He snickered, “cuz you‘ll do it.”

You pursed your lips, turning to him, pointing to him with malice. You sighed, “you’re right, I ain’t no pussy, come on.” He smiled, taking your arm again to move tables, a few sticks of strawberries held in his free hand.

The two of you stopped just short of the table, and stared down the cheese fountain. You almost wanted to out your hand in it, just to feel the texture. You held back though. “Looks kind of gross,” you muttered.

”It sure does,” Dipper said, handing you a skewered strawberry, bowing his head slightly as he did.

You held the strawberry under the drilling and flowing cheese, drenching it. You weren’t no bitch, despite the fact that the texture was strange.

“Damn, you’re drowning it,” Dipper commented, watching.

You stared at the strawberry after you pulled it out. A droplet of thick and slightly warm cheese fell to the floor at your feet. “Only way to go is all in,” you said, about to pop it in your mouth.

You vaguely heard footsteps come closer beside you. “What are you doing?” Pacifica said, approaching.

”Uhh,” You and Dipper both stammered in unison. You looked down at the cheese berry, then at him. Sharing a moment of contemplating eye contact, you decided to speak first. “Chesee strawberry, any thoughts?”

Pacifica scrunched her face, and receded into herself. “Yeah, just one. Why?”

You wordlessly pointed at Dipper, and you both could see Pacificas face change as she realized it was a rather stupid dare. It changed from mild disgust to a tired disappointment. “Yeah, maybe don’t do that,” Pacifica said, sucking in a breath though her teeth.

Dipper crossed his arms, “Dude, it’s liquid cheese, it’s nasty.”

Pacifica sighed, “Yeah, I know, but the old people like it.” She tilted her head up and looked around the room, scanning the crowd of her parents friends and their children. “Can’t imagine why,” she said.

You perked up, “Oh speaking of, are you done with your parents friends?”

Pacifica clapped her gloved hands together, “For now, yes!”

You gasped, and leaned over to offer her a hand. “Then may I be the first to offer you a dance,” you said, doing your best impression of a snobbish voice.

She took it, “Why, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She led, much more skillfully then you or Dipper ever did. At the centre of the foyer, she swung you and spun you with a practiced perfection you might envy.

“You’re good at this,” you said, in slight wonder.

“I’ve had to go to these parties since I was like, three,” she laughed. “If have to be a good dancer by now.”

You got a few looks from the guests, some of which said a quick hello or happy birthday to Pacifica. She tried to keep it brief, not even slowly the dance to speak with them.

As you were gliding around the floor, she looked back to the food table. ”So, do I have your blessing to dance with Dip?” she asked coyly.

You laughed, “yeah, of course. I’ll tag him in soon.” You may be his just as friends date, and have feeling for him, but you wouldn’t be a bitch about it. Who were you to try and stop her? You were friends with both of them first and foremost. “I should probably find Mabel anyway, make sure she’s not being weird to anyone.”

Pacifica snickered, “I’m almost a hundred percent sure your late on that, I can feel it.”

”There’s no harm in trying though, yeah?” You said, gliding closer to where Dipper was collecting snacks on his plate like he was a starving man on death row getting his last meal. You waved at him to try and catch his attention, “Dipshit! Tag in for me!” you called.

He looked over, holding a bun in his mouth. You could see his expression fall slightly, reliving his hesitancy to dance from earlier.

You got closer with Pacifica, so nobody had to yell. Pacifica let go of your hands, and stopping in front of him. “Come on, I actually know how to dance, and won’t let you make a fool of yourself.”

Dipper snickered, and nudged you slightly. “You’ll let me keep my dignity? Y/n could learn something from you,” he said, taking her hand.

You smiled, “hey, I didn’t do you that bad, did I?”

“Ehhhh,” he said, squinting. “Up for debate, I think.”

”Yeah, whatever nerd,” you laughed. You snapped a finger gun at the two of them before they moved away from you. Off to find Mabel.

Unsurprisingly, she was trying to flirt. You found her trying to kabedon a rich looking guy about your age. She didn’t see you as you approached, but he did, and made pleading eye contact with you. Yikes.

You scrunched your face, and shook your head. You leaned on the same wall as the guy, and looked to Mabel. “May I cut in for a dance?”

Mabel squinted, “with whom?”

You bowed, and offered a hand, “The lovely lady, of course.”

She gasped, “Why, I’m enchanted.” She spoke in a posh British accent, “of course, I’d love that.”

She released the guy and took your hand. You glanced to the fleeing rich dude, who offered you a nod of thanks. You nodded back, happy to save him. Gliding to the dance floor with her, you sighed, “Girlie, he was not into you.”

”I think he was warming up,” she said, leading the dance.

“Dude, you gotta learn some boundaries.”

She pursed her lips, “Are you sure he wasn’t into me?”

You laughed, “dude, yes. He looked terrified.”

…

The party went on. Cake was cut, dances were had, as it stretched deeper into the night, the music shifted from waltzing classics to more current songs. Songs you could actually dance to, competently this time, with Mabel by your side immediately, Pacifica quick to follow, and Dipper reluctant to join. But you made him. And he danced endearingly awkwardly, much worse without the clear and define steps of a waltz to guide him.

And unfortunately, despite what you felt in the moment, the party did eventually end. When it was just you and your friends left, and you all crashed.

And in the early afternoon when you all woke, you, Mabel and Dipper did not want to stay and help clean up. Pacifica was quite understanding.

And so, you were started home. The instructions Stan gave you were simply to borrow a car and drive the twins yourself illegally. He was a great driving instructor. So you loaded them into the car, drove them to the shack.

”You coming?” Dipper asked, seeing how you weren’t getting out after you pulled in.

“Fuck no,” you laughed, “I’m taking a nap at home man.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed his face. He looked back at the door Mabel already disappeared through, then back to you. “Then do you want the book club book, so you can catch up before we read next?”

You smiled, “yeah, actually. I think context might help my understanding.”

”Okay, hold on, I’ll grab it from my room,” he said, starting to the shack. “Don’t go anywhere.” You leaned back in the seat, and waited. Soon enough Dipper was scurrying back out, book in hand. “Alright, here, now we’ll be on the same level,” he said, leaning against the open car window.

”And this is a series?”

Dipper nodded.

”Then I’m excited for book club going forward,” you said, yawning. “Anyway, I’m fucking off, see you later?”

Dipper waved slightly, pushing himself off the car, “Alright, see ya.”

You blew a kiss at him, making an exaggerated mwah sound while winking. He shook his head, hiding a smile as you drove off.

Next chapter

Man I wrote this in like March it’s weird looking at it again.

#x reader #dipper pines x reader #gravity falls x reader #my writing #dipper pines #dipper x reader #douce amere #gravity falls

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wooahaes · 6 months

Text

melted sugar

pairing: non-idol!hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: fluff + established relationship

word count: 0.7k~

warnings: food mentions. hyunjin down horrendous.

daisy's notes: men......... <3

Hyunjin liked to linger behind you as he watched you work carefully. Sure, he couldn’t help you with making candy, but… It was fascinating to see you work your magic.

Chris had invited the two of you to this little spooky get-together about a week or two ago now, and the day had finally arrived. You’d brought up making your own Halloween candy that day, too, and—with Chris’s permission and any allergies taken into account—you’d woken up this morning with the plans to spend the next few hours hard at work. Hyunjin had come in shortly after, standing by to supervise (more-so in the ‘make sure you don’t burn the shit out of yourself’ way than anything else) with his phone next to him in case of emergencies.

He rested his head in his hand, watching as you were now working with melted sugar. You’d already made fudge the night before that he’d sliced up into cute little squares. “Why don’t you ever do this for me?”

“You never asked.”

He felt a tiny smile tug at his lips at how casual you were in saying it. You weren’t exactly wrong, after all. “Would you?”

“Make you candy?” You glanced over your shoulder for a moment, and then shrugged as you turned back to your work. “I dunno. Maybe for your birthday or something. It’s kind of a hassle sometimes, but I’d do it for you.”

His heart swelled at the sentiment, so sweetly spoken as simple as anything else. Sure, he could maybe lovingly nag you a little for openly doing this for Chris’s party of all things (do you like him more than me?), but he knew you’d just repeat your little ‘you never asked’ statement again. He smiled a little wider, head resting in his hands as he admired you while you weren’t looking. Hyunjin wasn’t afraid to admire you openly, sure, but he liked having these little moments. It reminded him of how the two of you were before you started dating, where Hyunjin admired you from afar and caught himself thinking often about the way your eyes glittered with joy over things like this. He’d watched you draw out your designs for other things that he could help you decorate with little piping bags.

Maybe one day the two of you could decorate shortbread cookies together. He’d seen plenty of those little videos of people decorating them in elaborate ways… Maybe you could teach him. The two of you could draw up designs together, and he’d use it as an excuse to stay close to you for a while. Not that he needed the excuse: he was just fine with doing what he was doing now. He liked sharing this space with you and admiring you hard at work. If he listened closely, he could always hear you softly singing under your breath as you worked. It always made him want to get closer to you. When you were cooking normally, he would: he’d come up behind you, and settle in to watch you work, arms wrapped around your frame. But not, with you working with sugar… He’d save it for later.

He glanced over to the squares of fudge, placed just out of his reach. The moment he began to stretch his arm out, you looked up—not at him, but as though you’d heard him moving despite the fact he swore he was dead silent. A moment later, you look back down, one hand reaching out for the dye near you. Hyunjin smiled to himself, stealing a piece of fudge and popping it into his mouth.

“All you have to do is ask, Jinnie.”

He nearly choked for a moment, jerking in surprise. “You didn’t even hear me!”

“I can sense it,” you teased. “I made extra. Just don’t go crazy.”

“And if I do?” He smirked, teasing you back. “What if I don’t want to share with the others? Hm? You’re my partner. They should get their own if they want someone to cook for them—”

Your laugh cut him off there, and he found himself smiling that soft, sappy smile all over again. You’d tease him if you saw it, he knew that you would, so he was enjoying being able to just admire you. “So possessive,” you hummed. “I’m not going anywhere, y’know.”

“I know,” he rested his head in his hand again. The fudge that melted on his tongue… But he would always think that your presence in his life was sweeter.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @jinnie-ret

#wooahaes.fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #stray kids imagine #skz fics #stray kids fics #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x you #wooahaes.fall23

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mobiused · 11 months

Text

Ora..

(from lastyvesniin - translation under cut)

Hello everyone, this is Yves

Yesterday I opened my blog and wrote my first post "Ora [woah]" was my reaction, since my comments section was filled with way more positive comments than I thought You don't know how touching I found that.,, Actually, I asked the company several times and when I got permission "Ah I'm totally doing this in vain" I was worrying about, but even if other people don't like it, as long as my fans tell me they like it, then I'll be happy. From now on even if it's hard to do every day or often, I'll meet your expectations!

[Yves mom sends an article about Yves opening her blog. Mom: Saw this on Naver Yves: Guess I'm a little popular... Mom: Is that so]

[Caption: Thanks for picking out a pretty picture, Reporter-nim!]

My mom looks at articles or fan comments every day, so like this she sent me the article she found Of course replying like that, I'm seriously just joking… Just our world where we don't necessarily have any news to share every day, my mom who is more complicated than anybody else, I guess that kind of little news would make her happy Thank you to the reporters who took an interest in the nobody that is me! And the fans who take the time to come find it, you guys… You already know my heart right? (or maybe you don't…)

[Caption: I added two shots but I don't think my hands even shake anymore…] Now I can't even start my mornings without coffee anymore Lately I've been getting greedy so I have my coffees with two shots I've been wanting to lower it again though The coffee capsule is from Ediya's personal blend I hate acidity, but I found out I quite like the nutty flavor. But lately I keep forgetting… and zoning out, so I haven't needed the support of a second cup, and I've lowered the shot… Thanks to me, the coffee machine stand is getting washed every day.

[Two birthday letters from Yves' Mom] [Caption: 'Activate Tears' button on the the fridge] The first thing I read when I wake up in the morning to open the fridge door I read it every time I look at it Ever since I debuted, my mom sent me food for my birthday She always sends it with a letter too, so I think about my mom expressing her feelings to me I always end up in a bunch of tears falling as if someone pressed a button. So somehow I end up kinda depressed? when my birthday rolls around cuz I'm always close to tears It's something that's been on my mind Someday I must repay the sentiment

[Avril Lavigne - 'Let's Go' on Vinyl] [Caption: Accidental house introduction today]

Next to my bathroom, this is the place where you can appreciate the analog vibe I've liked Avril Lavigne since the olden days, so I guess I listen to this LP a lot But I've left it like that for several days so I got all dusty now You know how when people don't touch things with their hands for a long time, dust occurs from that So, in books or movies, you know how they show the places where dust has accumulated It kinda makes me feel like I'm really alive, or at least that's how I feel If you try shake your clothes out, dust will fly off of it… Whilst looking at me from space, I guess I look like just a speck of dust but When I see dust on this Earth, rather than dust, I just keep ruminating thoughts smaller than dust.

[Caption: Kim Yongmyeong-sunbaenim.ᐟ I'm your fan]

When I'm at home I usually lie down like this I think If you lie down raising your arms like this and feel comfortable, that means your upper body is already broken I'm a mess, but I'm still gonna choose a happy life

[Caption: By the window]

I'm weirdly scared of the big wide sea, but I like water in the fishbowl and the fish inside too

[Caption: My ocean-room (video)]

I found and played the sound of the ocean from Youtube to show you this By the way, on AliExpress (I've been windowshopping there lately) whilst looking around This fishtank lamp kept popping up though? I dunno if this phone picks up on my voice or something… it's kind of scary but I like it so much that I went ahead and bought it Please take a look at it

[Caption: The space behind the sofa]

I'm sure my fans know that I like football, right… When I went to Sangam Stadium there were fans who recognised me there, I was so amazed how they knew it was me.,,? But that time, most people there were wearing uniforms and I was the only one who wasn't so I was so embarrassed So, "someday I have to buy a uniform!" was something I had thought about only, but My manager gave it to me as a birthday presents ㅎㅎ Fans too, probably collect our merch thinking like this, which is cute to think about But right at this moment there's probably people selling my photocards on Dangun as we speak… I look it up every now and then and my heart hurts, but I guess it can't be helped right?

[Caption: The day I went to a PC cafe for the third time in my life]

In Busan, I went to the PC cafe to buy tickets for the match against Peru From turning on the computer to signing up.. Time's a ticking.. I was so exhausted by it all, I wasn't even nervous whilst ticketing (not true) I clicked on a popup too - why I clicked on it I still don't understand, but Fortunately the militia(?) of unnies came to save me, so I was able to get a good seat… They were my older sister's friends, and they're all into k-pop so their ticketing skills are seriously no joke Anyway, let's have a good time in Busan together

[Caption: You did well!!!!!]

Even though I usually sleep through the morning, I woke up at 5:30am to watch the semifinals of the U20 players I really took in the atmosphere… I felt so proud of them "Unfortunately" is something that's said a lot, but I think that's the only way they can express how I feel All I can say is For getting to the 4th round, our players are so so cool and you must've worked so hard!

The best ice cream in my life I like Kkandori the most out of anything in the world I used to buy them in wholesale packs of 100 and put them in my parents' freezer and I feel relieved when I see Kkandori in the freezer Aside from that, I also like Bibibig, Watermelon Bar, Fishbread Samanco, etc

Kkandori and a neighbourhood walk

Sorry I'm not wearing any makeup but I just wanted to show you how I feel when I eat Kkandori

[Image: Trudging around. My daily life.] [Caption: Sourced from Pinterest]

Actually, there's nothing in my daily life I was wondering if I could even hit 100 Neighbours (T/N: followers) but you guys showed a lot of interest, so as soon as I woke up, Wow, I thought I better hurry up and write a sequel so, I hurriedly took pictures around my house and scribbled this down In the next episode, I'll show you my daily life more neatly

[Caption: Suddenly?]

If I just sent it like this you'd think it was just a fake, so My bangs are always usually split down the middle like this Maybe its just because I've had no bangs [t/n: Kkanmori] for such a long time… Kkandori

[Image: For those who haven't prepared, June is just around the corner]

I'll just follow this trend I wanted to use this pic in the last post but unfortunately didn't so I'll post it here How many people feel ready? But because we're not ready, this world makes us despair and cry, but also feel happy about the little things, right? Happiness isn't the goal, its in the journey I don't know it well yet but I'm trying to find happiness in the small things. If you were to ask me what happiness is to me, I think I'd say tranquility. What exactly is being tranquil though?

[Caption: Friend took this picture of me on the subway]

These days I'm trying to heal my weak heart by becoming a plant owner, The friend sitting next to me is a Parlour Palm (or 'happiness', bought at Daiso) But raising it isn't particularly difficult But like its true name, happiness itself is hard. In the next installment, I'll introduce all my plant friends

[Image: Thank you]

Thank you for reading my rambling and unedited writings For those who are reading this, whether today or tomorrow, or the many days that come afterwards Even if it's nothing special, I hope you get by unscathed and have a peaceful day … I have to get ready to go out now I've decided to work hard over the small things too since I made a promise with fans Fighting! I love you

Even though you guys know my name but I don't know your name I love you !

#this was SO hard to translate #loona #yves #yves loona #loona yves #ha sooyoung #lastyvesniin

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sinfulsalutations · 1 year

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This might be a little weird but i always am wearing mismatched socks(color and type not height) and imagine the bad batch all have a bunch of pairs of the same kind and color so how would the batch react to their consistent mismash of socks

𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕠𝕔𝕜 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ⋆*･ﾟ𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙

⋆ ★ ʜᴍᴍ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ꜰᴜɴ ɪᴅᴇᴀ! ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʟʟ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏᴄᴋꜱ, ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ’ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴡʜᴏ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴏꜱᴇ ʜᴀʜᴀ. ʏᴇᴀʜ ɪ ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜱɪʟʟʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜰᴜɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ᴄᴜᴢ ɪ ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛʟʏ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ (ᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴏꜰᴄ).

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱʜᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴄʟᴏᴛʜᴇꜱ, ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀʟʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ ʜᴀʜ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

Hunter

Okay, some of them think it's weird, but it makes sense in Hunter’s head logically; he matches his bandana with his socks.

Meaning he only wears red socks.

Doesn’t matter if they’re different shades; a crimson and vermillion red doesn’t make much of a difference.

He’s a bit of a color coordinator, let's be real.

It’s funny, cause Hunter’s really not that vain about his appearance. I think we all headcanon that he uses 13 in 1 shampoo and conditioner in the shower so like he really doesn’t care that much–

But something about having red socks… dunno, they just gotta be red, okay?

One time he couldn’t find another red pair, and he was scrambling around the Maurader for one.

“Has anyone seen another red sock??”

“No, Hunter. You’ve asked this 10 times, you’re not going to get a different answer.”

“Oh shut up Echo!”

Then Tech threw a pink one in his direction, and it landed directly in his face.

Hunter sputtered in shock and threw it back.

“This isn’t red!”

“Well technically, it is red, just a very tinted shade of it–”

“Nope, not gonna take your smartassery right now.”

Then he proceeded to dig up the laundry basket until he found another red one.

Tech

Hates it with a burning passion.

Always tries his best to make his socks coordinated while the others wear mismatched ones.

It’s incredibly difficult.

He always ends up getting the colors pretty close, but slightly off from each other.

Suddenly he whoops in triumph and pulls out two separate socks and its just two shades of black and he throws them across the room.

Do y’all see a pattern here with the throwing aijerlakjdf

Crosshair meanwhile is laughing in the corner because he has one of the matching socks on right now and he’ll never know muahahhaha!

Wrecker

Is probably the one that started it and caused the chain reaction.

It’s literally just socks and no one sees them it doesn’t kriffing matter if the colors match–(even if some of his brothers disagree)

He’s got like hella holes in his socks though, so he’s ended up kind of having his own.

If one of them is sorting laundry and sees a hole in one of the , welp its Wrecker’s now.

He’s like the only one that doesn’t care about holes in his socks. C’mon, he’s a simple man! He doesn’t need all these intricacies, thank you very much.

Same sentiment goes for the type of socks. He does prefer to have them go over his ankles but he doesn't care if the socks are fluffy or itchy and closely cropped to his skin, as long as it covers his feet he’s fine.

Crosshair

Doesn’t seek comfort, for some fucking reason.

Avoids fluffy or comfortable socks like the plague.

Might explain why he gets hella calluses on his feet.

But it helps him stay on his toes (don’t mind the pun), instead of in a comfort zone that’ll make him possibly mess up his performance when he shoots.

His socks end up being the most mismatched.

Nobody knows how but he always manages to have his socks with such ugly and contrasting colors it hurts Hunter’s poor little brain–

Like he’ll end up with some bright orange and then a soothing lavender and holy shit it’s so ugly dear lord.

Echo

Fluffy sock wearer all the way.

This man prioritizes comfort in lots of ways the rest of the batch doesn’t, mostly because of the chronic pain and daily discomfort he experiences since Skako Minor.

So yeah, the colors don’t matter to him; fluffiness does.

However, despite being a fluffy sock enthusiast, he doesn’t like them all the time.

There are situations where it's simply too hot or irritating for those kind socks.

But they still have to be some semblance of soft, or comfortable.

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godtier · 3 months

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so i wasn't gonna make a separate post about this but @sapphire-weapon had a post (that i reblogged a few days ago) in which someone mentioned that they think it was a missed opportunity in RE6 for jake to not have spoken to wesker. i had a p long conversation with sirea about it and my thoughts about that sentiment, but it was also nearly 3 AM my time when that happened so i dunno if i was even articulating my thoughts properly lmao

and yes... this is technically a meta post and i know i said i was gonna do the mmx meta post first... but this one isn't gonna be nearly as long (i hope) and i gotta get the brainworms out before i die

(quick edit note: i reworded the list item below from saying he was "likely a drug addict" to "likely a recreational drug user" because i feel like that better encompasses what i'm trying to get across

(another edit note: i made another post regarding jake's usage of drugs that stemmed from this post! it's marked as mature bc of drug usage, so it won't show up in tag search. if you're interested in that, look here!)

so the idea that wesker being alive in OG RE6 would have brought an opportunity for jake's character is kinda, imo, antithetical to the purpose of jake's character in the first place.

when we meet jake, we know a few things about him, right off the bat:

he's a mercenary

he's likely a recreational drug user or at least heavy/risk-taking user

he doesn't give a fuck about anything but making money

his whole character journey is going from this selfish, money-focused dickhead to someone who actually cares about doing something good, just because it's the right thing to do. at the start, jake refuses to simply give his blood away when sherry mentions needing it for a vaccine. no, he wants a cash payout. 50 million dollery-doos for a pint of his blood. by the end, he lowers the price to a mere 50 dollars. one could argue that was symbolic and he actually didn't care if he was paid or not, but that's neither here nor there.

but why was he like this? because his childhood was shite; his mother was sickly, he had no father figure, and by 15-ish, jake had to learn how to hustle to keep food on the table. and by "hustle" i mean "do a bunch of mercenary work and killing people." and when shit went south with his little group of mercenaries (their entire group was sold out by a heel-turner), jake basically went "fuck alla y'all" and lost all sense of conviction or morals.

during the game, he expresses his bitterness for his father, wesker, pretty clearly. even though his mother still loved wesker, tried to raise jake to respect him despite never knowing him, it didn't matter to jake. he hated that guy. well, really, who doesn't?

we're not gonna talk about excella rn ok

jake's entire character arc is built up around this hatred as well as a subconscious fear of becoming his father. the fear part doesn't show up until later in the story, after he and sherry were captured by the Big Bad's organization. they were both experimented on for several months, during which jake overheard the researchers talking about his father, wesker. this gives jake a sort of "explanation" as to why he is the way he is; he takes the "nature" side of the nature vs nurture argument.

ofc sherry scolds his ass and basically tells him "grow up and take responsibility for your actions."

and here's the thing... this fear, narratively, works just fine without wesker being there.

(since this got obscenely long, pls continue below for the actual explanation lmao)

jake eventually comes to the conclusion that yeah no it's definitely up to him to not become wesker, not his genetics. he does this without wesker being there. that's the entire point of his character journey. in order for an interaction with wesker to even matter or have any sort of impact on jake's character arc, his character arc as a whole would need to change.

see, imo, wesker being there diminishes a lot of the power of that journey. in the game, he isn't there for jake to scream at, to question. all those thoughts in his head that might be circulating around, like why he left his mother, why he did what he did, etc, cannot be answered. this is not a bad thing in a character arc as this is shit that happens to people all the time. people don't always get the answers they may want from family members because those family members are dead. they have to learn to move on without those answers or they have to rely on people who knew that person to fill in the blanks. this is what jake already does in game. he has to rely on sherry, and by a smaller extent, chris, to fill in those blanks for him.

but we as players, observers of the narrative, already know the answers to some of those questions. why wesker did what he did, primarily. anything else is only pertinent to jake and him knowing those answers doesn't change anything for his character arc as it is.

if wesker was there in the game, what would that even add to jake's narrative? a scene where jake yells at his dad? asks him "why did you leave?" when wesker wasn't even aware that he had a kid in the first place? remember: wesker had no fucking idea that he had a child. there would be no reason for wesker to even believe jake in the first place. sure, there could be a scene where he goes "well i'll be damned, ig he really is my misfired chromosome," but... then what? what does that add?

you could argue that wesker could use jake, maybe try to manipulate him into doing shit for his plans, but... that wouldn't work with the way jake's characterization is mapped out. his entire characterization would have to change for this to work in a satisfying way.

jake already hates wesker without ever meeting him. he would not willingly participate in anything wesker offered to him. he already knows that wesker nearly destroyed the world multiple times and had a hand in destroying an entire city. even if jake has no moral compass at the start of the game, by the time he learns about what wesker really did, who he really was, he's already showing that he does have one, it was just dormant up until that point. he's clearly disgusted by what wesker did. what foothold would wesker have that wouldn't immediately result in it just falling flat?

given how wesker is, i could see him perhaps belittling jake, maybe saying "wow you suck for being my spawn," or something during a fight with the intent to rile him up. would that work? no, not narratively nor not in the way jake is characterized. again, jake doesn't want to be like wesker. why would insulting him and saying he's not "as good" as wesker expected him to be motivate jake or even anger him? it shouldn't, because jake doesn't want to be anything like wesker. if anything, it may annoy him, but that's kind of a lame reaction, right?

if anything, the most i could see culminating out of this would be jake standing over wesker after he's defeated again (because it's resident evil and obviously wesker can't win) and having a "wow idk what i was worried about" moment. that's it.

but he doesn't need that. having a scene like that cheapens the weight of him figuring that out himself, without wesker there as "proof."

because the point of his story, of his character arc, is that he figures that out on his own (and with the help of sherry and the events he witnesses) because he has to. he doesn't need wesker there to spoon-feed that to him. he figures that out by working with sherry, by seeing the effects of the C-Virus on everything that it infects. wesker being an abstract entity in his life is enough, because the frustration of not seeing him, not being able to put a bullet in his skull himself, fuels the rest of his journey.

this is where i think that people who make these observations or criticisms (primarily those who think that jake's character would have been improved if wesker was there) need to understand the difference between what's good for a character as a person and what's good for their arc.

interacting with wesker would be good for jake as a person, in that he would no longer need to wonder about it. the answers would be spelled out for him, and he wouldn't have to do any wondering about the what-if. he wouldn't have any doubts left that he'd need to untangle.

but in doing that, it cheapens his arc; it would do more of a disservice to it, imo, than anything else. it would make his journey more formulaic and boring.

it would also clutter up the already cluttered narrative of that game. you have him not only struggling with his heritage, struggling with the fear of becoming his father, struggling with needing to be the "savior" by giving his blood, struggling with his moral compass, but now also struggling with seeing his father for the first time in person?

it makes his arc top-heavy. in that scenario, you could easily replace him with another, completely new character who has zero ties to wesker and the story wouldn't change in any meaningful way. the reason why it works the way to does now is because wesker is already dead. it creates that internal conflict, that internal frustration, that jake has to learn how to deal with since he cannot take that frustration out on his father in-person. he has to make peace with that struggle in other ways.

now, that's not to say there aren't ways that adding wesker into the story of RE6 that don't disrupt that balance. primarily, when it comes to a potential RE6 remake, the writing team can (and hopefully will) rework aspects of the entire game to make the plot more streamlined. this could include adding wesker in and redoing jake's characterization and character arc entirely.

this would be the only way i could see it working out. if jake's entire motivation was changed, his entire backstory was tweaked, then wesker being around could probably work! an interaction between them could be made to make sense and not bog down the rest of the plot as a result.

sirea also mentioned to me in our conversation that adding wesker in to RE6 remake could actually help streamline the plot and i do agree with that. she mentioned that all of the main characters have a tie to wesker in some way, which is absolutely true. having him there would neatly tie their campaigns together in the plotline and make the game as a whole feel less disjointed and messy.

this is especially true when we consider there are 4 fuckin campaigns that all run alongside one another and intersect at random points. it gets so fucking difficult to page through and figure out when certain things happen in the plot. you'll see them happen in order in chris's campaign, for example, then you go start leon's campaign and have to start over again and try to remember what happened at the same time during chris's campaign and so on.

now imagine that not with just two campaigns but four. it gets gross quick. sure, there are parts where the characters run into each other and that helps ground a general timeline in your head, but as far as time elapsed... it's so fuckin hard u guise

there's a reason why it's so hard to summarize the plot of RE6. it's because there is just so much going on in that fucking game.

anyway, that's my rant/sort of meta analysis about why i think wesker didn't need to be in OG RE6 and probably would have made jake's entire arc stupider than it already was

#resident evil #resident evil 6 #jake muller #albert wesker #meta analysis #pls don't look at me i only write posts about characters no one cares about #stay tuned for my meta analysis on HUNK next #(may or may not be serious about that)#(also this post is the epitome of tl;dr)#(u been warned)#text post

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variousqueerthings · 5 months

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I've just been spending the last few hours thinking about this ending that I haven't even thought about the whole rest of the episode, I've gotta. I've gotta just

oh boy I've gotta just fuckn

nothing about donna or fourteen or fifteen here just all the rest

1- at first I was thinking that the toymaker was defeated in kind of a simple way, but then on the other hand it's more a setup for some of the things we know is coming in ncuti gatwa's era, with classic!who gods. so the toymaker, yes, gives the opportunity to wrap up this past era and for DT to do those big sad wet eyes of his, but is far more for the next story's benefit in the long run from the sounds of things. also the behind-the-scenes for the game of catch is hilarious. NPH was so good, would be cool to see the toymaker make a reprise just with gatwa

2- ohhhhhhhhhh the Puppetry in this episode! PUPPETS! I am soooo into puppets, I could have spent a million episodes with these creepy fucking puppets, I hope we get more puppets

3- AND speaking of the toymaker, the master in the toymaker's tooth???? I haven't seen dhawan yet, so idk how that all ends, but I did not expect master setup, and I am very happy we did because the master is my favourite (derogatory, what a bitch)

4- RTD talking about the puppet that was broadcast on TV, I knew about that puppet (from getting a quiz answer wrong relatively recently lol), but giving that little historical Moment, now we all know a bit more, I just think it's neat

5- I am still not a fan of UNIT. every time we meet them they're a military force with weaponry that has the potential to do so much harm and... then they lose control of that weaponry. and also do weapons-related stuff that often makes the situation worse. I feel similarly of classic!UNIT who do manage to help out more on the whole, but still are fundamentally military and several times have people who do Bad Shit. dunno, still trying to figure out their place in this narrative other than convenient guns when we need guns. I want them to be more complicated if they come back for the next era, I'd be interested if shirley-ann bingham became a liz shaw type and really questions the limitations and biases that exist within UNIT

6- wait no, going back to point the first I'm soooo excited for the things they've hinted at, stories about gods are my whole damn jam, it's going to be amazing!

7- them playing the prime minister saying he doesn't care about anybody and donna goes "same as always" (or however she says it), listen, it's low-hanging fruit and I am eating it, anything dragging the british government and right wing sentiment is good and necessary for my soul personally

8- one really big Thing is no martha. will never get that closure RIP. argh though freema agyeman and ncuti gatwa could do great things together I think, cmon. one day

I'm sure more things will come up as I think about it, but off the top of my head

#doctor who #dw #doctor who spoilers #dw spoilers #the giggle

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hectic-hector · 6 months

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Encantober prompt #30: Blood

Sweet Sentiments

(Summary: the long-awaited sequel to "Sympathy Pain". It's that time of the month again, but Bruno manages to handle it (and his sobrinas) a little bit better this time. Mild CW for a small amount of blood.)

They were out of salt. Julieta was certain of it. She had searched every shelf of the pantry, as well as each and every cabinet, multiple times. Nothing. Ever optimistic (or simply desperate), she’d searched until Casita grew irritated and began to loudly clack the counter tiles in protest. When that didn’t work, the house resorted to sealing the pantry and cabinet doors shut, refusing to let Julieta open them again.

Annoyed though she was, she knew she couldn’t blame Casita. The eldest Madrigal triplet was an absolute basket case when she didn’t have every single ingredient she needed. She had even dipped her pinky in the sugar bowl and sampled the crystalline powder inside just to make sure it hadn’t been swapped out again. Nope. Still sugar. For the first time ever, she found herself mentally berating Camilo for not playing that classic prank on her. Julieta placed her palms on two jittery tiles to calm them down and heaved a deep, dramatic sigh. “Looks like arepas are out of the question.” There was a soft thud, followed by the rhythmic sound of fluttering tiles, as a coconut rolled along the counter and stopped right in front of her. She looked at it for a moment before smiling. “I guess I could make cocadas instead. Gracias, Casita!” Julieta set to work grating coconut meat. After several minutes of culinary ambiance, the telltale thwap thwap thwap of sandals caught her ear. She didn’t have to turn around to know who had entered the kitchen.

"Bruno, be honest,” she said with her back to him, “did you use up all the salt again?"

Bruno froze, staring saucer-eyed at the back of his sister’s head.

“Nnnot all of it.” “That’s what you said about the chocolate last time." “Yeah, but I only need a small dash of salt when I use it. You try convincing a colony of rats that they don’t need nearly as much chocolate as they think they do!” He walked over to where his sister stood to see what she was working on. Julieta glanced over and noticed the light gray rat on his right shoulder. Or rather, the back end of a rat. It was facing the other way with its front end hidden under peppery locks of Bruno’s hair. “Is that Horacio or Ignacio?” she asked, recognizing the color of the rat’s fur. “Rosalita,” Bruno replied. “She’s their triplet sister.” He lifted her tail up. “See? No huevos. Big difference. S’why I usually don’t let the boys ride on my shoulders. I don’t need those things in my face!”

Julieta couldn’t help but chuckle. “Does Rosalita like coconut?” “Let’s see!”

Bruno reached up and turned the rat around so that she was facing forward. Julieta offered up a cupped palm with fresh shreds of coconut meat in the middle of it. Rosalita sniffed her hand. A moment later she found the treat and scooped up a mouthful before settling back on her haunches. Holding the shreds in her tiny little hands, she nibbled away happily at them. Bruno grinned.

“Yep. She does!” He reached up again to give her a little scratch behind the ears, but Rosalita made an indignant squeak and promptly turned to face the other way, her tail wrapping around Bruno’s throat to steady herself on his narrow shoulder. He scratched her rump instead, earning another squeak of protest.

“It’s alright, Rosie!” he said with a chuckle. “She thinks I’m trying to snatch her food.” “Speaking of snatched food,” Julieta started, and Bruno braced himself, “what did happen to the salt, if you didn’t take it?”

Bruno shrugged his unoccupied shoulder. “I dunno. Maybe Camilo used it on the snails in the garden?” “I doubt it. Antonio caught him doing that once and had an absolute meltdown. I don’t think ’Milo would dare do it again.” Bruno raised a brow. “Can Toñito talk to snails?” Julieta shook her head as she resumed shredding coconut. “He’s always loved animals, even snails. Doesn’t matter if they can speak to him or not. When he was four he found a snail with a pretty pink and yellow shell that he wanted to keep as a pet.” “I remember that. He named it after Casita, didn’t he?” “Mm-hm. He said the snail’s house was as pretty as ours, so he called it Casitita.” Bruno stood beside his sister and picked up the unshredded half of the coconut. “What are you making?” “Cocadas. I was going to make arepas for the construction crew working on the Peña-Suarez house –” Bruno set the coconut down and put his hands up. “I know, I know, but I swear, Juli, I didn’t use all your salt! I’ve got my own private stash. See?” He pulled his ruana aside and showed her the breast pocket of his shirt. “There’s still some left, if you want it.”

Julieta smirked. "The last time you gave me your pocket salt, it had lint in it, so no thank you."

“Eh, your loss.” He reached into his pocket, scooping up salt, then flung it over his ratless shoulder before a look of panic crossed his face. “No, wait! That was the last of it!” “Then why don’t you go down to the market and get some more?” Julieta replied with an arched brow. “I’ve got a lot of work to do here, and you’re not exactly helping just standing around.” “Should I also get some –” “Yes!” “You don’t even know what I was going to say!” “It doesn’t matter,” she said as she shooed him away. “If you think we need it, then we probably do. Use your own judgment.”

It was Bruno’s turn to smirk. “You’re asking the guy who told a priest he’d go bald to use his own judgment?” “The same guy who knew his sobrinas needed chocolate and went out of his way to get it for them.” Julieta turned to face him with a tender smile. “That guy. I trust his judgment.” Bruno couldn’t help but return the smile, though he embellished it with a dramatic sigh. “Alright. I’ll go. But only because you know how to butter me up.” He lifted the rat from his shoulder, planted a kiss on the top of her head, and set her down on the floor. “Off you go, Rosalita! No rats allowed at the market!” “Or in the kitchen,” Julieta reminded him. “It’s one thing when they’re on your shoulder –” “Esta bien, Juli. She knows.” Bruno nodded toward Rosalita, who was already scurrying away to find the nearest hole in the wall. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “Will you please keep it down? You’re being too loud.” “What are you talking about? All I did was grow some orchids.” “Well you’re growing them too loudly! And those flowers are hideous!” “They’re dracula orchids. They don’t have to be beautiful. What is your problem?” Camilo waltzed in between his sister and cousin, shapeshifting into the former. “Oh, don’t mind me,” he said in Dolores’s voice. “It’s that time of the month when everything is my problem!”

Dolores growled and shoved him. Camilo snickered and shifted back into his own form. “What? You make it pretty obvious when you can’t even stand the sound of flowers blooming.” He turned to look at the orchids Isabela was holding. “Whoa, these flowers have faces? No way!” Isabela beamed proudly. “That’s why they’re also known as monkey face orchids,” she said with a snide smirk aimed directly at Dolores. “And what is that supposed to mean?” Dolores demanded, hands on her hips. “It means they can be whatever they want because they don’t care what you think about them!” Isabela shot back as vines began to envelop the nearest column and wall. Twisted crimson flowers burst into bloom on them, coupled with long, needle-like thorns. Camilo raised a brow. “You too, huh?” Isabela glowered at him. “What?” He gestured to the vines. “You always grow these during that–”

THWUMP!

Camilo was silenced by a giant rafflesia flower to the face. “You’re both being too loud!” Dolores snapped.

Having heard the commotion, Julieta poked her head out of the kitchen to investigate. Her fears were confirmed by the sight of the blood red flowers creeping along the walls. She went back over to the oven to keep an eye on the cocadas, casting an uneasy glance out the nearest window. They were low on chocolate, but she knew she could depend on her brother to get more from the market, just as he had the previous month. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Bruno returned with a sackful of goods and a look of annoyance creasing his brow. “I asked Señor Fuentes what he wanted for five pounds of coffee beans,” he said as he unpacked his purchases. “And do you know what he said? He said he wanted a vision. Just a vision. Simple enough, right? Oh, no. Of course not. I invited him back to Casita, but he insisted I give him a vision right then and there.” Julieta set the cocadas to cool on the windowsill and came over to see what Bruno had bought. Salt, cinnamon, coffee, corn, and avocados were laid out on the counter.

“What did you tell him?” she asked, picking up the salt. “I told him he was crazy,” Bruno answered matter-of-factly. Julieta’s eyes widened. “You didn’t!” “Well, no. I didn’t say that out loud. I did tell him he was drinking way too much of his own coffee if he thought I could just conjure up a sand storm in the middle of the marketplace! And even if I could, I doubt anyone else there would appreciate it.” “Did he actually want a tablet, or did he just want a vision?” Bruno shrugged. “I told him I could do it without the sand storm if he didn’t mind taking my word for it, but that if he wanted to see the vision for himself, I would need sand. No sand, no tablet. He finally gave me the coffee and muttered something about coming over tomorrow, so I think he finally got it.”

Julieta nodded and looked over the groceries again. “You didn’t happen to get any chocolate, did you?” Bruno also looked at the groceries. “Uh, no. Sorry, was I supposed to?” “It would have helped, but I didn’t realize until after you’d left.” Julieta glanced over toward Casita’s courtyard, where Isabela had surrounded herself with an array of particularly lethal-looking plants, while twin Doloreses argued with each other nearby.

Bruno followed her gaze. “That time again, huh?” Julieta nodded. “Do all the girls have it at the same time?” “Usually, yes.” The real Dolores stopped bickering with her doppelganger and turned to stare in utter disbelief at her aunt and uncle. The two stared back at her, realizing they’d been caught.

Dolores turned beet red and hurried off to her room, leaving an unfazed Camilo to mimic his cousin instead. Annoyed, Isabela retaliated by encircling him with several large Venus flytraps that immediately began snapping at his legs.

Julieta sighed. “We really need that chocolate.” She went back over to the windowsill to check the cocadas. “I have to go deliver these, so I’ll pick some up while I’m out,” she said as she placed the treats inside a small handbasket, then turned to Bruno. “Would you mind watching the kids?” “They’re mostly old enough to watch themselves now, aren’t they?” “I mean, if there are any problems, can I trust you to be the responsible adult here?” “Responsible is a strong word,” Bruno began, but Julieta was already heading for the door. “Wait! You’re seriously going to leave me in charge? What about Gus and Félix?” “Agustín tends to make himself scarce when he knows the girls are menstruating, and Félix is on the construction crew.” “Pepa –” “–Is doing climate control to make sure the cement sets properly.” “Ma –” “Mamá’s visiting the Guzmáns.” Julieta paused at the door and turned to face her brother with a reassuring smile. “You’ll do just fine, Bruni,” she said, calling him by his old nickname. “I have every confidence in you.” “Not the best decision you could have made, to be honest.” She gave him a good-natured smirk. “I stand by it. And I’ll be back before anyone even notices I’ve gone.” Bruno smirked back. “Excuse me, but who’s the psychic here? I don’t even need a vision to know that the instant Doña Martina sees you, she’s going to invite you in for tea and gossip. And you won’t have the heart to say no.”

Julieta rolled her eyes. “Would you rather run my errands for me?” she asked, holding out the basket of cocadas toward him. Bruno took a step back and put his hands up, shaking his head. “Oh, no. I’ve reached my social limit for the day, thank you very much. If they’re not furry or family, I’m done dealing with them.” Julieta sighed. “Alright then. You’re in charge until I return, but you know the rules: no rats in the kitchen, and sand stays inside your tower.” Casita opened the front door to allow her to step out. Bruno followed, stopping at the threshold. “Don’t your rules kinda defeat the purpose of me being in charge?” he called after her.

CRASH!

Bruno jumped and spun around. A large terra cotta pot lay broken in the middle of the courtyard. He looked up to see Luisa standing on the balcony directly above, gripping the railing with guilt etched across her face. Isabela appeared beside her and looked down with a gasp. “Luisa! That was my favorite cactus! How could you?” “I didn’t mean to!” Luisa replied. “I was just moving it out of the way, but then Mirabel ran right past me and I didn’t want her to run into it, so I just kind of fumbled it and –”

“MIRABELLL!”

“ – and accidentally dropped it over the railing.”

Isabela huffed. “She is so dead!” “It’s not like you can’t just grow another cactus,” Luisa pointed out as the two of them headed down the stairs. “A cactus is a cactus. They’re all the same.” Isabela made it to the ground floor ahead of Luisa, turning on her with an icy glare. “They are NOT all the same! You take that back!” She stood over the broken pot, looking torn between weeping and raging. “Her name was Elenora, and she was my emotional support cactus!” “Then why was it just sitting there on the mezzanine?” Luisa asked. “Why wasn’t it in your room?” “Because she also guarded my door!” Isabela snapped in a tone that said the answer was obvious. “Well it did the job alright, because I got pricked just walking past it!”

“Well maybe if you didn’t lumber around like a gorilla, you could have avoided it!” Luisa loomed over Isabela, teeth and fists clenched. “You wanna repeat that, princess?” Undeterred, Isabela merely smiled and batted her eyes. “Oh, didn’t you hear me the first time?” she purred, “Or do you even have any ears under all those bulging slabs of meat you call muscles?”

Bruno quickly wedged himself between the two girls, holding a palm up in front of each one.

“Alright now, let’s not say anything we might regret!” he said, a little louder than he’d meant to. The sudden appearance of twisted, thorny vines protectively encircling Isabela made Bruno’s skin crawl unpleasantly at the memory of being assaulted by them a month prior. He recalled his poor choice of words with his nieces that had led to the assault and made a mental note to be more tactful. “I understand that you’re both, uh, going through some things right now, so let’s just try to be reasonable here. Isa, do you want to tell your sister how you feel, but maybe try phrasing it a little differently? Lulu, are you willing to give her another chance?” Both girls glared at each other in silence for a moment before Isabela nodded calmly. “Yes, Tío. Of course. I would just like to ask Luisa how many times she skipped brain day, because it seems to be the only muscle in her body that she never uses.” “The brain isn’t a muscle, hibiscus head!” Luisa retorted. “You’d know that if you didn’t spend all day huffing pollen!” Before he could say a word, Bruno found himself on the floor, the exposed skin of his face, neck, and hands stinging with pain. He looked up to see the bougainvillea surrounding Isabela had practically exploded all over the courtyard. He sat up, wincing at the little stabs of pain all over his body. Several thorns had gone right through his clothes, though the added layer that his ruana provided kept them from going very deep. He felt a hand on his arm attempting to help him up and accepted it. Luisa and Isabela were still arguing as Mirabel led Bruno into the kitchen. “I find it best to just stay out of the way when those two start fighting,” she whispered. Bruno nodded agreement. He shook some thorns from his ruana before taking a seat at the kitchen table. “Mamá made cocadas,” Mirabel said as she looked around. She picked up a small dish towel from the counter. “She took them to the construction crew working on the new house,” Bruno told her. “Guess I’ll have to wait ‘til she gets back.” He gingerly pulled at a thorn in his forearm, then gave up quickly with a hiss of pain. Mirabel turned to him with a look of concern that uncannily mirrored her mother’s. “Well, we can’t leave those thorns in. Here, let me pull them out.”

She pulled a chair up to sit down facing Bruno. She began to reach for a thorn in his neck, but he drew back nervously and held up a hand to block her. “M-maybe we should wait for your mother.” Mirabel sighed and took his hand in both of her own. “Please, Tío, let me help you. The longer you leave those in, the more they’re going to hurt.” Without warning, she plucked a thorn from the back of his hand. It happened so quickly that Bruno didn’t even see her do it. He let out a small hiss, but thankfully the pain had already passed. Mirabel gently pressed the dish towel against the skin, soaking up the little dot of blood from the wound. “There, now. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” “I guess not,” Bruno murmured. “I mean, as long as you’re that quick with the rest of them –”

He let out another hiss as Mirabel yanked a second thorn from his hand. She pressed the cloth against the wound for a second before moving on to the next thorn.

It didn’t take long for Bruno to decide he didn’t want to see where she would strike next, so he kept his eyes closed. Several yips, hisses, and half-uttered swears later, he cracked an eye open. The first thing he saw was the dish towel, now covered in red spots, moving in to dab at his cheek. He reached up. “You don’t need to do this, Mira,” he said, taking the towel from her. “I appreciate it, but it’s not your job to clean up my mess. I mean, I can barely stand the sight of my own blood, so I can only imagine how this must make you feel.” He nodded to the bloody cloth. Mirabel shook her head. “Honestly, it doesn’t bother me. I have to deal with a lot more blood than that on a regular basis, so…” she shrugged, only now beginning to look the slightest bit uncomfortable. Bruno raised a brow. “Oh?” The girl looked away with a blush, biting her lip. “Oh.” Bruno blushed as well. “Right.”

“And it’s… kind of my fault that this happened in the first place,” Mirabel confessed, taking the towel back from him. “I ran past Luisa on the mezzanine and made her drop Isa’s cactus.” She reached up to pull a thorn from Bruno’s chin. “And why did y– YOWCH! – why did you do that?”

Mirabel blushed again. Saying nothing, she held up the bloodied towel as a hint. Bruno stared at it for a moment before understanding. “I wasn’t expecting it so soon,” she murmured, eyes downcast. She dropped the towel to her lap and nervously twisted it with both hands. Bruno was surprised that his niece was being so open with him, given how she had reacted to his knowledge of the subject only a month before. Now, seeing the way she was hunched over, brow slightly creased, he wondered if she was having cramps. “Your ma will be back soon with chocolate,” he said, offering a small smile when she looked up at him. His eyes seemed to glow faintly for a moment, then his smile grew. “And she’s going to make chocolate tres leches cake for dessert! Don’t tell her I told you, though. It’s a surprise.”

Mirabel tried to give him a scolding look, but failed. Instead, she ended up mirroring his smile. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The cake was even better than Bruno could have foreseen. Julieta gave him a heaping slice, encouraging him to eat more to make up for the malnutrition he’d suffered inside the walls. In the few months since Casita had been restored, Bruno’s health and physique had visibly improved, despite the fact that many of his extra servings ended up being eaten by Camilo instead.

A sprig of mint leaves sprouted on top of Bruno’s cake slice as he picked up his fork. He looked over at Isabela, who smiled apologetically. “Sorry about the thorns earlier, Tío. Have some soothing mint with your cake.” Bruno smiled back, appreciative. “It’s okay, Isa. And thank you.” He took a bite and his eyes lit up. “Wow! I had no idea this could taste even better! That’s quite an achievement! Or should I say, achieve-mint?” Antonio and the girls giggled. Camilo rolled his eyes. “Maybe I should add mint to my desserts more often,” said Julieta. “Your cooking is amazing already,” said Bruno, “but a little improve-mint wouldn’t hurt!”

More giggles, plus a small groan from Camilo. The boy looked miserably at Bruno. “I’m glad you’re back, Tío. I really am, but you’re killing me with the puns.” Bruno smirked at the boy, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Well, thanks, ‘Milo. I appreciate the senti-mint.” Camilo threw his arms heavenward with a loud groan. Mirabel snickered. “About time you got your just desserts!” she teased.

Camilo shot her a dirty look, then sighed. “May I please be excused from this family?” “Not a chance,” said Bruno. “I tried that once, and look where I am now!” Camilo crossed his arms with a huff. “Rats!” “Hey, watch your language,” Bruno warned with a teasing grin. THE END @encantober-official

#encantober2023 #Encanto #Bruno #Mirabel #Julieta #Isabela #Luisa #Camilo #Dolores #Madrigal

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lunarrolls · 9 months

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37. feeblemind with ashton and orym?

this prompt then proceeded to haunt me for an entire twenty four hours. i wanted to write some good ol’ mindfuckery, but my instinctual need to make the scenarios of these prompts make sense simply could not fucking justify a feeblemind being thrown at either of these guys. if you REEEALLY want that mindfuckery, masterqwertster wrote an ashton feeblemind/greater restoration ficlet on this same prompt list! HOWEVER. i did write something. i’m stretching the list a bit here, but i had the idea after hours of puzzling and i HAD to get it down. SO. hopefully this is a suitable replacement!

•

Feeblemind is an eighth-level enchantment spell on the bard, druid, warlock, and wizard spell lists.

You blast the mind of a creature that you can see within range, attempting to shatter its intellect and personality. The target takes 4d6 psychic damage and must make an Intelligence saving throw.

On a failed save, the creature’s Intelligence and Charisma scores become 1. The creature can’t cast spells, activate magic items, understand language, or communicate in any intelligible way. The creature can, however, identify its friends, follow them, and even protect them.

At the end of every 30 days, the creature can repeat its saving throw against this spell. If it succeeds on its saving throw, the spell ends. The spell can also be ended by Greater Restoration, Heal, or Wish.

•

“Do you ever think about that professor?”

Orym starts a little at the question. It’s been a quiet watch, nothing much going on tonight, and for the most part him and Ashton have been content to simply sit in comfortable silence while the rest of their friends sleep. The sudden inquiry comes out of nowhere, and Orym has to think for a second to answer it.

“Yeah, I do,” Orym says. “The lady in Yios?”

Ashton nods. Orym notices that they won’t meet his eyes—their gemstone gaze stares off intently into the distance. “Kadija. Kadija Sumal, that was her name.”

He trails off into silence, obviously working at whatever he really wants to say. Ashton’s jaw always tightens when he’s got something to say but isn’t sure whether to say it. Orym’s noticed that he usually errs on the side of silence if interrupted, deeming the sentiment pointless after a moment, so he waits quietly for his friend to chase the threads that tangle behind the glass encasing his opalescent mind.

“She—she was ruined, Orym,” Ashton says.

Orym is caught slightly off-guard by the tightness of their words, mirroring their jaw—it’s uncharacteristic of them to be openly bothered by someone they’d only met once.

“Ludinus just—“

They make a grandiose hand gesture.

“I dunno. He just—he just waltzed in there and—and broke her like it was fucking nothing, Orym. She didn’t do anything.” They blow out a breath and roll their shoulders, staring down at the ground with a familiar angry expression. “I’m not making any goddamn sense. Whatever. She just—she’s just on my mind, is all. Random thought.”

Orym sits for a moment, tilting his head and trying to recall exactly what had happened at the Seminary. Ashton had vanished for a while, off on some random mission with an acquaintance from a million years ago (which, honestly, Orym was surprised that hadn’t happened more often given the sheer amount of random and strange people Ashton seemed to know all across Exandria), and then reappeared on the steps. Together with Chetney, they’d blackmailed the lady at the front desk and threatened her with a ladle (which was very funny, honestly, Orym had been a little sad that the Crown Keepers hadn’t seen how he’d handled that, he had a feeling they’d approve), and then ventured up to the classrooms only to find Imogen, Laudna, F.C.G., and Fearne crowded into a small office room, surrounded by a chaotic mess of fluttering papers. Orym had immediately thrown himself into searching for clues, making sure Ludinus wasn’t coming back (though, at the time, none of them had any goddamn idea who that asshole was).

But he remembered Ashton’s impromptu interview of the professor. The blankness of her stare. The childlike placidness she displayed, sitting alone and small in that room.

Ashton had offered her water, asked her what her name was, been gentle and even kind to her. Orym’d almost never seen them like that—even when they were at their softest, admitting affection for Chetney and F.C.G. on the deck of the Silver Sun, he’d never seen them act that way any other time. Even though the professor’s name hadn’t stuck in his mind the way it clearly had Ashton’s, he remembered the moment very clearly.

“Are you worried about her?” Orym asks, attempting to mirror Ashton’s distant stare into the middle distance. “Or… something else?”

“No, no, not worried about her,” Ashton says. “That fuckin’ place was absolutely crawling with mages. She’s probably fine now. Just—I hate Ludinus for that.”

Orym swallows his own white-hot rage at the mention of the name. He feels his expression harden.

“She was just a teacher,” Ashton says. Orym sees their fists clench out of the corner of his eye. “And he shattered her. Completely robbed her. She didn’t even have a way of fighting back, didn’t fucking threaten him or anything. She was just briefly in his way.”

Another pause. Orym hears Ashton shift across from him, curling in on themself, a hand on their hammer.

“We only got away from the Key at all because of Keyleth,” Ashton says bluntly, “because of that asshole buff lady and the fucking wizard guy who knew about my head. If they hadn’t been attracting his eye, who the fuck knows where we’d be now. You saw how he broke them too.”

And, oh, did Orym see it. He sees it every time he closes his eyelids, every time he gets too comfortable.

“We can’t ignore this,” Ashton continues. “But I—ugh. Fuck. I don’t know.”

“You don’t want to be broken again,” Orym says softly.

“No,” Ashton replies, finally glancing down at him, “I don’t want you all to be broken. And he can just fucking shatter us like fucking eggshells.”

Orym considers this. Lets it wash over his skin like an ice bath. Breathes deeply. Ashton’s right on some level. Some rational, horribly pragmatic level. Ashton is often right on that horrible, annoying level. It’s one of their strong suits.

Orym can’t fish up the right words to comfort his friend because, well, for all he pretends to just be the muscle of the group, Ash is surprisingly insightful. He doesn’t like to be lied to. So Orym won’t try. He would hate being lied to, in Ashton’s place.

“You’re right,” Orym says simply, almost absently, “we’re fucked.”

Ashton nods bitterly. “Fucked.”

“But,” Orym continues, gesturing out to their sleeping friends, “they’re strong. They’re stronger than us. If we’re shattered, like Sumal, I think they’ll pick up the pieces. I know they will. Who knows what happens after that, but they’re strong, at least.”

Ashton sighs and shifts again, curling tighter, his glassy eye poking just above the ridge of his kneecap. “…right. Right. They’re the best of us. I’m just—worried, I guess.”

“Too much time to think, huh?” Orym teases, his gaze sliding over to them directly.

“It’s a dangerous fucking pastime,” Ashton quips. “Nothing good comes of it. No idea how you or Chetney stand it.”

“Did you just imply that Chetney thinks? As a pastime?”

“Oh, fuck off. If you tell him any of this, I swear—“

#cr #cr3 #ashton greymoore #orym #roll performance #charisma save #playing with orym’s godly passive perception in fics is so fun #this halfling Sees Everything. he knows so much shit about his friends’ nervous habits #i KNOW the spell that hit kadija wasn’t a feeblemind #it was probably a geas if i had to guess #BUT. it was close. and i wanted to write this so bad for some reason as soon as i thought of it #ashton’s so fun to write in uncomfortable conversations. mf talks in circles just like me fr #spelling disasters

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