#i thought i was just really awful at cooking eggs like i was cursed or something | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

euaphoric · 10 months

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AFTERGLOW

✩‧₊˚ pairing — roommate!jk x f!reader

✩‧₊˚ warnings — fluff, sm*t, v small mention of “sl-tshaming” (not from jk tho), jk is WHIPPED, overst*m, multiple organisms, f*ngering, eating out, spanky spanky

you & jungkook have a heart to heart conversation expressing your dating troubles but end up realizing you might actually be perfect for each other instead.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

“it’s like…everyone’s so fucking boring nowadays.” jungkook rambles on as he takes another sip of his wine. “i just can’t find the right one that matches my vibe.”

you nod, “i feel. literally every guy i talk to is lame as hell, they always rather stay in and watch movies than go on an actual date, which is fine sometimes…but all the time? hard pass.”

it’s 2 am on a saturday night and neither of you had anything to do, you proposed going out clubbing but jungkook wasn’t in the mood for that kinda night. he was more of a laid-back, chill type of guy while you were always out late partying and coming home with a new guy every weekend. it’s not like jungkook didn’t have girls (or guys) over either, he was just more discreet about it and made sure you were gone whenever he brought anyone over. he felt like he wouldn’t be able to face you again if you ever heard what he was doing.

“that’s ‘cause they’re just trying to fuck, oldest trick in the book y/n.” jungkook chuckles as you lightly smack his arm. “what— it’s the truth! any guy would wanna get in your pants.”

well, maybe that explains why you’re always getting texts at 2-3 am asking to “come chill” even though you know how it’s going to end and you fall for it every. single. time. maybe that’s why your last hookup called you “for the team” to all his friends, you fucked on the first “date” but only because he showed you cute pics of animals he rescued (curse you for being such a softie). but generally, it didn’t take much for you to want to sleep with someone because you had sexual needs just like everyone else, except you were a girl and that wasn’t very “ladylike” of you. that didn’t stop you from actively seeking potential sex partners though.

“ugh, don’t say that! i’m just more of a lowkey person..i don’t mind netflix dates but damn, ya girl could really use some wining and dining once in a while.” you express frustratedly. it’s been a while since you’ve been taken somewhere nice and the thought of someone planning a cute outing together made you yearn for a relationship even more.

jungkook’s brows lift in confusion, “do i not already do that for you every day?”

he’s constantly cooking for you, soon as you wake up breakfast is made with your favorite—pancakes and fluffy scrambled eggs! he’d also cook you dinner once you got home from an exhausting day of work, he was the perfect roommate you could’ve ever stumbled upon.

“you do— but that’s different..” your voice trails off, thinking of any excuse as to why but you couldn’t put a finger on it.

“how? am i only your maid that cooks and cleans for you? not worthy of anything else?” he pouts dramatically, of course he’d get offended by something so little.

“koo don’t do this right now, you know i appreciate you and your sweet gestures all the time.” sighing as you sink further into the couch, you decide to spill more about your not so eventful sex life. “it seems like most guys only care about getting their nut then dipping, i barely finish if it at all after.” you realize how embarrassing that sounds to admit but you had to confess this to someone, you don’t even know why you continue to torment yourself with this kind of treatment.

jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, appalled at the sad truth of your current dilemma. he too however, faced a similar issue at hand. he can’t seem to find a girl that’ll keep up with his crazy high sex drive. “that sounds truly awful, what the fuck? i’d have you on orgasm number five just from my fingers alone.”

holy shit, did he really just say that? the wine is most definitely getting to him now. the room got real quiet for a second.

“y-you would?” you ask innocently, batting your lashes at him.

he wanted to retract his statements out of embarrassment but you didn’t look put off by his advances at all, instead intrigued. his cheeks turned rosier, very unexpected of you to put him on the spot like that but he was the one who opened pandora’s box to begin with. “i mean… yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he replied, biting his lip as he gauges your reaction to see if what he said was okay. “i’m more of a giver than receiver anyway, i love giving head it’s my specialty. i’ll leave you with that afterglow if you let me babe.”

well now you were going to have to find out, you can’t just let him make such bold claims like that without having the proof to back it up first. you’ve always found your roommate extremely hot but you never tried anything out of respect for his boundaries, he did the same but his urges to make a move on you kept growing as you complained more and more about your past experiences—he wanted to show you how it was really done.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

jungkook was determined in making sure you have a great time. your pretty body splayed under him with your backside facing upward, giving him the view of a lifetime. “fuck…” he curses under his breath, his long tatted digits sinking into your dripping core, greedily taking all of him in. you muffle the sounds of your moans by covering your mouth, you had a habit of doing so since you didn’t want to wake jungkook whenever he was sleeping while you were getting it on.

“c’mon you don’t gotta be shy babe, be as loud as you want with me.” he husks, giving a spank to your left cheek leaving a visibly red handprint. hands sliding up the curves of your body, caressing you as he pumps his fingers deeper. “mmh.. fuck— koo keep going.” whimpering out pathetically as walls clench around him. he adds another digit to the mix, watching them disappear in your cunt while looking at your perfectly round, plump ass. never in a million years would he think he’d be doing this to his roommate of all people.

you felt a knot tying in your stomach from the pleasure, grabbing onto the leather couch tightly—feeling yourself getting close already. “sound so pretty when you moan, don’t stop.” he encourages sweetly, “i’m making you feel good aren’t i?” sounded more like a statement rather than a question.

“y-yes, think i’m gonna cu— oh fuck!” eyes roll to the back of your head as feel yourself come undone on jungkook’s fingers, creaming all over them as he continues fingering you, thumb swiping harshly over your clit to help ride out your high. the overstimulation was too much to handle for you, bratty whines escaping your lips as you just couldn’t take anymore. “on your back now.” he orders, producing another spank to your rear, you squeal from the contact but get up and lye on your back as he told you to do.

“open.” jungkook groans impatiently for you, slipping his fingers coated with your milky essence. you suck them off one by one, getting a taste of yourself while looking directly in his eyes. god…you were going to be the death of him.

“mmm..so fuckin’ hot babe.” he smirks, planting a soft kiss to your lips to get a taste on your tongue. he needed to have more of you. kissing down your chin, neck, collarbone, chest, all the day down to your navel—faint blotches of red appear on the bruised skin; creating a beautiful masterpiece on your body. more kisses are pressed into your soaked inner thighs, trailing his lips up to your entrance as he licks his lips before he begins feasting. “don’t hold back on me baby, be as rough as you want.” he coos, lowering his head to flatten his tongue, licking a long slow stripe against your throbbing slit.

“shit!” you almost cry from how good he feels against you already, bucking your hips into his mouth as he sucks on your puffy bundle of nerves. eyes looking up at you fiercely while he watches you shake and writhe under him. “so good, so goood. just like that, don’t stop please!” you continued grinding your core on his face, making a leaky mess all over him. he could care less though, he’ll happily drown in your juices any day.

his fingers return back inside for extra stimulation but you end up crying out more, the feeling has your head spinning intensely. you don’t know how much more you can possibly take but you firmly pull on his hair for leverage, tightly tugging it not caring if it hurts since he said not to hold back. his free hand caresses your thigh gently, flicking his tongue rapidly on your clit and lapping up your wetness, you taste like a dream.

“oh my god…” you mewl slightly above a whisper, you suddenly forgot how to use your voice. his mouth was making you feel more than amazing, better than anything you’ve felt before. you feel bad for all the guys you fucked in the past because they definitely won’t be getting a call back from you now.

“taste so sweet angel,” he mutters before shortly going back to what he was doing, “mmmm…” he hums against you and the vibrations leave you shuddering. another orgasm erupts out of you as you scream his name louder, spasming and shaking under his touch. this time your release squirts out onto his tongue, licking up every drop, even the left over excess on your thighs.

he presses a kiss to your abused clit, lightly dragging a finger over it to rub in circles, making it swell up again. “p-please koo, no more… n-no more.” you whine again and again but he just pretends not to hear you. he’s not going to stop until he’s completely satisfied with the end result. the end result being you looking a total fucked-out mess. “shut up. stop talking.” his eyes give you a menacing glare. you don’t utter another word, you wouldn’t dare test him right now.

he slings your leg over his shoulder and pushes you in closer, teasing your sensitive entrance while curling his fingers inside, he could do this all day if you’d let him. your breath shortens, digging your nails deeper into his skin from the bliss you feel— you were overly sensitive and felt another one nearing your way. he wasn’t even using his tongue on you anymore, he was just so good with his fingers alone it was enough to have you squirting all over him.

and you did just that, again. “that’s right baby, cum all over my fingers like a good girl.” he praises, feeling the tightness of you wrap around him. your body was so numb. panting, moaning, vision getting blurry as you coat his inked digits with your cream for the third time in a row. he pulls them out slowly, letting you drip all over the couch, chuckling with endearment of you. it almost didn’t feel real with the way he was making you cum so easily for him. he had a natural talent at this it seems. you felt weightless, as light as air in his touch, a radiant beam of ecstasy lingers within you.

“that was…incredible.” you gush, ruffling his already disheveled hair, “i haven’t felt like this in a really long time.”

jungkook kept smirking; boy you were in for so much more tonight. “mm..relax gorgeous, ’m not even close to being done with you just yet. gonna have everyone know who’s my name once we’re finished.”

@genkima @sweet-sourhotcoco ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x f reader #bts smut #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook x female reader

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playthelaughtrack · 2 years

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The Scarecrow woke up early to prepare a lovely breakfast for his partner (Y/N), as a way of letting them know just how happy he is to be married to them. Unfortunately, they just don't feel like getting up.

Inspired by this post.

Warnings: None!

A/N: I'm feeling Soft

The shrill 'caws' of the crows outside was enough to rouse the Scarecrow from his slumber. He groans, silently cursing those blasted birds for waking him up just before the sun rose each morning.

At least it isn't all bad. He thinks to himself, feeling his burlap lips quirk up in a fond smile as he gazes at your sleeping figure. At least i'm here, and not still stuck on that dreadful pole.

His side of the bed creaks as he finally heaves himself up. He leans against the wall, adjusting the hay that had bunched up unevenly within him as he slept. Normally, he would try and ignore those birds, and lay around until you had woken up, but today he had a mission. A mission so important, not even the Good Witch of the North could task him with something greater -- he was going to make you breakfast.

Even after being married for some time now, he had never really fallen out of his 'honeymoon phase'. He was constantly at awe at the kindness and tenderness you showed him, the way your smile seemed to shine brighter than the sun itself, the rapid beating in his chest each time you placed a tender kiss on his cheek... you were the greatest gift life had bestowed upon him, and each day he set out to remind you of just that.

Setting off into the kitchen of your home, Scarecrow gathered up everything he would need. He wasn't the best cook in the world, he somehow managed to burn the ends of the hay sticking out his hands whenever he tried, but surely pancakes and fruit wouldn't be that difficult, right?

"This is supposed to make eight," He reads outloud, scratching his chin as he looks over the cookbook, "But I want to make a whole lot... one serving needs one egg, so maybe I should triple it!"

He fumbles around the cupboards for the measuring cups -- no luck. Ah, that's fine. He could probably just eyeball it. It should be fine. This was fine.

It was not fine.

No one ever really took the time to teach him how to do most things, always just being him and his intellect against the world. The first truth that dawns on him: He had no idea where most things were. He wanders around, practically turning the place inside out, until he got his gloved hands on his most important tool -- the spoon.

Second truth that dawns on him: Not only was he horrible at just 'eyeballing it', he had no idea on how to convert measurements.

"Gosh, people have to do this every time they want to eat?" He is baffled on how much effort a simple meal was already taking out of him. "Now, this is why good ol' fashioned fruits and veggies are the way to go! Much less workin' that way. Ah, no matter. They always say must of cooking is just mixing the stuff in... i'm sure the worst of all this is already behind me!"

"Batter should not be this hard to get out of hay." Scarecrow bickers to himself as he cleans up his space.

No matter. This would all be worth it.

"Wake up!" The bedroom door creaks open, allowing his head to peak through. "I made breakfast, love."

You feel the light flood into the room as he opens the curtains. It's warm and comforting, but nothing could beat the relaxation you found under the covers.

"Now..." You managed to finally let out, voice raspy as it gets comfortable with being used after being out of service for hours. "When I said 'yes' to this whole marriage thing, I thought we were on the same page and you understood when i said i don’t wake up before 6pm.”

Chuckling, he leans over, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. "Good morning to you too, sweetheart."

The smell from the kitchen wafts over to your nose. Your stomach growls, earning another laugh from your husband. In response, you grab the end of your sheets, prompty pulling it over your head. You would not be coaxed into surrendering so easily!

"Sweetheart?" You could hear that goofy smile in his voice. "I spent all morning making that for you."

You let out a small laugh, amused. "And is my kitchen still intact?"

You heard him hesitate. "The kitchen's fine. Nothing I can't handle!"

That wasn't entirely a lie. The kitchen was a mess, yes, but he cleaned it up! Though, if you somehow end up finding little clumps of batter in strange places for the next week, he will profusely deny that he had anything to do with it.

He lays his body weight on you, testing the 'make you uncomfortable' route. You teasingly respond, "It's just like a hug!" while making yourself more comfortable underneath him.

He eventually gets up, making you mentally pat yourself on the back at the success. Scarecrow begins to step out the door, turning towards you one last time. "Such a shame too... I made pancakes."

"I'll be right there." You rush out, as you were excited to dig into the meal so lovingly prepared by your husband... that, and all his talking woke you up.

He lets out a humored laugh, rushing out to make you a plate.

#the scarecrow x reader #wizard of oz x reader #the wizard of oz x reader #the wizard of oz scarecrow x reader #scarecrow wizard of oz self ship #wizard of oz scarecrow self ship #wizard of oz self ship #dolls acme brand writing desk #dolls-acme-brand-writing-desk #x reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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xavieryaa · 1 year

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deal // chapter 13: all fired up

word count: 4.2k

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯-

Jimin’s mornings during the past few weeks haven’t been entirely calm, per se, with Namjoon often shaking him awake to inform him of their plans that day or ask him about seemingly random details, but waking up to a blaring smoke alarm is definitely a first.

He’s not particularly in the mood to run on only a few hours of sleep, since last night he had spent probably too much time lying in bed thinking about what had happened at dinner, so in an attempt to get just a bit more rest, he covers his ears with his hands. The attempt, unfortunately, does nothing to dispel the sound - it’s still about as loud as before, and only slightly muffled. He can’t even stand to listen to something so high pitched, much less fall asleep to it, so after a few seconds he groans, shoving the blanket off his body and slipping out of bed with a yawn, quickly throwing on a more casual outfit Namjoon had given him.

Bare feet smacking against the hardwood floor, his first thought is that the kitchen is the most likely source of whatever triggered the alarm, and as it turns out that’s right. As he gets closer he hears what sounds like a pan falling to the ground, followed by a few frustrated curses. He has a suspicion of what’s going on, but nothing prepares him for what he sees when he opens the door.

Kim Namjoon, with three smashed eggs on the floor around him and a medium-sized pot next to those, is staring at the stove in horror. And it’s pretty easy to see why, considering a small fire has started in a pan, and his attempts to put it out by using the lid to “blow it out” are only making it bigger.

“Namjoon, what the fuck- give me that!” Jimin yells, grabbing the pan’s lid from Namjoon’s hands and quickly placing it atop the fire, holding it firmly until the flames die down. As he turns around to question how Namjoon even ended up like this in the first place, he sees Namjoon looking at him with a sort of awe on his face.

“How’d you know to do that?”

Jimin can’t help but snort. “It’s a pretty basic way to fix a kitchen fire. You need to cut off its oxygen supply, blowing air towards it only gives it more oxygen, and that means more fire.”

“Oh. I’ve just never had to deal with one of those before, I suppose,” Namjoon’s expression is almost a bit cute in its genuine curiosity.

“Yeah, speaking of that, how the hell did you manage to start that in the first place? Why are you here? Doesn’t someone else usually cook for you?”

“Usually, yes. But today I decided to make breakfast myself. For the two of us,” Namjoon crosses his arms, but it’s not like his annoyed or firm stance - it looks more like he’s hugging himself for comfort. He’s nervous, Jimin realizes.

“You were? But why?”

Jimin doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He doesn’t want to believe that there’s even a slight possibility that Namjoon likes him, because really, it seems impossible.

“I wanted to be…” Namjoon’s nose scrunches up like he’s struggling to say the words, “nice, I suppose. Since you’ve stuck around, and helped me.”

“Oh,” is all Jimin can muster, because at the moment, he’s having a hard time keeping his hopes down, because really, now, it seems there’s a slight possibility that it’s possible. Clearing his throat, he decides to branch away from the topic a bit, mostly for the sake of his heart. “What were you making, anyways?”

“Pancakes. At least, that was what I was trying to do. Didn’t go too well, though. I haven’t had them before, and I’ve heard they’re pretty good, so I wanted to try them out since they seemed simple enough,”

Ah. So that explains the eggs on the floor, and the bag of flour he’s just noticed on the table.

“Maybe it’ll help to make something we’re more familiar with. Want to cook some scallion pancakes?”

“Together?” Namjoon asks, and Jimin’s not sure if it’s only his own feelings messing with him, but Namjoon’s voice sounds hopeful, like he wants to do it together.

“No, clearly you’re a prodigy chef who’s capable of making it perfectly well on his own. Of course we’ll do it together,” Jimin chuckles, and after a moment Namjoon’s own laugh follows, and Jimin swears there has to be something in that bright smile of his that makes him feel like this, because the warmth bubbling in his chest isn’t something he’s familiar with at all.

“I’m pretty sure I have everything we need for that, I’ll get those out,”

Jimin wouldn’t consider himself the world’s greatest cook by any means, but compared to Namjoon, he’s practically a top chef. After around half an hour, time which flies by faster than Jimin would have thought, the two of them (though mostly Jimin, considering whenever Namjoon contributed there was a one in four chance Jimin would have to fix whatever he did) have managed to cook up some pretty decent scallion pancakes, its texture crispy and its scent heavenly.

“Wow, you’re really good at this. A lot better than I would have done on my own,” Namjoon says before immediately shoving a large piece of scallion pancake into his mouth, cringing back slightly at its high temperature before he lets out a satisfied groan, his voice suppressed by the food when he speaks his approval. “So good…”

“You weren’t that bad, you know. You just…need a lot of practice,” Jimin says, and Namjoon raises an eyebrow at him before swallowing his mouthful to speak.

“So not knowing how to properly cut the scallions isn’t ‘that bad’?”

“Alright, you were pretty bad, but it’s not like you can’t learn. I’ve seen worse, honestly. At least you tried,” Jimin tries to be encouraging, but both of them know that he can’t be any more complimentary than that without straight-up lying.

“You know what, I’ll take the participation trophy then,” Namjoon stuffs some more food into his mouth, and with that Jimin takes his first bite, and honestly, he’s surprised - it’s actually delicious. Not exactly like he might find in a restaurant, but still great.

They make a bit more chit-chat during the meal, but for the most part both of them are silent, too busy enjoying what they’ve cooked. It feels comfortable in a way, to sit next to Namjoon and appreciate his presence without having to do anything to occupy their time. It’s a sort of peace he would have never expected even a week ago, yet here he is.

When the two of them have each finished, Jimin feels eyes directed at him from the side, from where Namjoon is. It’s not the creepy sort of feeling that he might get if someone was staring at him from across the room. He feels comforted, almost. Turning towards Namjoon, his heart jumps in his chest when he sees a smile on the other man’s face.

“Jimin? I just wanted to say…thank you. For helping me make these,” Namjoon looks like he wants to say something more, hesitating before closing his mouth.

“You’re welcome. You were the one who wanted to make it for us in the first place, the least I could do was help when you were struggling,” Jimin returns his smile.

Jimin has a feeling they’re not just talking about the scallion pancakes anymore. Namjoon’s eyes are still focused on him, and there’s something Jimin might call fondness held inside them. He feels like he can’t break away from the deep, honestly beautiful brown eyes he’s making contact with. Until he does, looking away while clearing his throat, standing up suddenly.

“I’ll…umm…just wash my dish. And the pan. And put everything away. So we don’t have to do it later,” Jimin’s not lying, not technically, but he’s not telling the entire truth, which he figures is close enough to a lie for him to feel guilty for it.

He hears the slight scraping of another chair against the floor next to him, and looking back at Namjoon, he’s out of his chair as well now. “Me too. It’s more efficient if we do it together, and you’ve already done a lot of this so far.”

Both of them have stated their intentions and neither of them seem to actually want to follow through on them. There’s no attempt at moving away from the table and back into the kitchen - rather, Namjoon’s taking almost excruciatingly slow steps towards Jimin, gaze still never having left his face. No amount of deep breaths seem to be able to calm Jimin’s rapid heart, which seems to be getting more out of control the closer Namjoon is to him.

“Do I, uh, have something on my face?” Jimin says, and he almost wants to laugh out how obviously wrong it is in the context of…whatever is going on right here, right now. He would have at least expected Namjoon to tease him about it a bit, but he seems entirely serious in his approach, simply shaking his head lightly as he stops right in front of Jimin, close enough for their chests to practically be touching.

There’s no talking going on, but Jimin’s grateful for that, considering his brain isn’t forming anything that even resembles coherent thoughts anymore once Namjoon raises his hand and brushes it softly against Jimin’s cheek, resting it there. His palm is more rough, a few small calluses texturing it, but the lanky fingers are softer. There’s absolutely zero chance Namjoon can’t feel the heat settling on Jimin’s face in a blush, and there’s a pretty high chance that he’s already seen it anyways.

Looking up at Namjoon, who’s quite a bit taller than him, Jimin doesn’t feel tiny or insignificant at all; it’s the opposite. He feels seen, perhaps even admired. It’s not a feeling he’s familiar with receiving at all, but one he’s probably been giving to Namjoon for a decent amount of time now.

The way Namjoon looks at him makes him feel like more than just normal Park Jimin, retail worker and mostly unremarkable Seoul resident. He feels special.

Namjoon’s eyes focus on his lips before flicking up to meet Jimin’s again.

“Jimin,” he whispers, desperation evident in his voice, and Jimin can’t believe this is the same man he first met over a month ago now, the same one who had once been so cruel and antagonistic towards him. “Jimin. Let me kiss you. Please.”

All the breath Jimin wants to use to say yes with every fiber of his being is gone, so instead, he nods, not wanting to waste any time trying to find his words when he could be…

Namjoon’s lips connect with his, gently at first, much less rushed and panicked than yesterday, but at the same time much more earnest. He seems uncertain at first, moving his lips slowly and cautiously, Jimin too shocked to do much more than timidly do the same. With each passing moment, though, he seems to gain both more desire and more confidence in what he’s doing.

Yesterday had been more than exhilarating, but now Jimin can see that Namjoon was holding himself back, restricting himself as to not do more than Jimin would be comfortable with considering he hadn’t asked. The reason he knows this is that now Namjoon has no such doubt, taking as much as he wants, grasping at Jimin’s waist to somehow pull him closer, warm and harsh breaths from his nose hitting Jimin’s face as neither of them wish to pull away.

Jimin’s fully reciprocating now, and as his brain has stopped short-circuiting enough to realize what’s happening, he realizes that he’s practically making out with someone who was supposed to be his coworker at most. And then he realizes that he doesn’t particularly care in this moment, because something about kissing Namjoon feels so intrinsically right.

Namjoon’s breaths against his lips start to mix with practically incoherent murmurs, like he wants to say something but also doesn’t want to stop, and a moment later he pulls away, dazed. Jimin takes a moment to catch his breath before looking into Namjoon’s eyes with curiosity.

“Why?” Jimin asks, because he’s genuinely wondering why, his heart still hesitant to accept what is obvious. Until Namjoon confirms the obvious, in which case his heart really doesn’t have any choice.

“I…I’ve been thinking about that for a while now. But your lips yesterday…they were so soft. I couldn’t help it,” Namjoon says, and his words seem so sincere that Jimin can’t stop the blush on his face escalating into a full-on wildfire. Kim Namjoon of all people has no right to make him feel like this, to be saying those things and actually mean them, yet Kim Namjoon does both of those anyways.

“Jimin?”

At this point he’s half sure Namjoon just likes saying his name. “Yeah?”

Jimin does his best to return his expression to normal and calm the red all over his cheeks, which is to say he barely makes a dent in either of those things, but at least feels a bit better for trying.

Namjoon finally seems to break out of his own blissful state of mind, and immediately he turns his head away as a flustered look comes onto his face, as if that’s the most embarrassing part of this entire thing. And really, the entire thing so far hardly compares to what Namjoon proceeds to do, turning back to Jimin to look him in the eyes.

“I want-” A scowl forms on Namjoon’s face, as if he’s frustrated he can’t get the words out in one go. “You. Be mine. Please.”

Namjoon’s wording couldn’t have been more awkward if it was intentionally so, and Jimin might have laughed just a little at his expense if his voice wasn’t so desperate and hopeful. What he’s saying - he means it.

Jimin doesn’t say anything for a moment, thinking about it, and the part of his brain that had been trying to be logical and ‘realistic’ about Namjoon is now trying to figure out what the hell to do next. Immediately, Namjoon’s demeanor gets more nervous, taking Jimin’s silence as a sign of denial.

Which it isn’t, not by a long shot. Jimin smiles at him, placing his hand on Namjoon’s cheek to lean his face downwards. “If you say so,” he whispers against Namjoon’s lips, swearing he feels the other man shudder a bit before he pulls him into another kiss.

•

An amateur investigation of a murder isn’t something Jimin would have expected to leave a lot of room for peace, but he still finds himself wishing that this morning, at least, he could have had a bit more time for blissful moments.

Namjoon, for all his awkwardness and lack of knowledge of how to actually go through with his kinder intentions, is surprisingly tender when given the chance, his usual mask of apathy giving away to something more tender now with Jimin. It hasn’t been long enough to judge, of course, but though he hesitates to show much affection, when he does it seems thoughtful and done with intention. It’s very much a contrast towards his ‘normal’ self, but at the same time it fits the entire meticulously planned way of life he likes to maintain.

He should have known that their time uninterrupted would come to an end soon, but it had slipped his mind until Namjoon’s phone rings loudly from its place on the table, and immediately Namjoon looks on edge - Jimin had never heard Namjoon get any sort of call or notification prior, so he assumes that now that he has, it’s important. Far too important to ignore, as giving Jimin an apologetic look, Namjoon takes it and exits the room to take whatever call he had received.

Jimin’s tempted to follow after him and attempt to listen to what he’s saying, but he figures invading the privacy Namjoon has built for himself isn’t a good way to celebrate the fact that they had gotten closer. So, with difficulty, he forces himself to sit down in his chair again and wait.

Several minutes later, the door to the room opens again, and Jimin turns around, expecting Namjoon to return and be nonchalant or secretive about whatever he had been discussing. Instead, he’s met with the sight of a firm frown on Namjoon’s face, which is slightly paler than usual.

“Namjoon? Did something happen?”

“Kang Jihwan, the man at the restaurant yesterday, he died early in the morning,” Namjoon says, and Jimin’s not sure if he’s imagining the subtle, just barely audible shake in his voice. “Another fentanyl overdose. Whoever murdered Soo must have killed him as well.”

Yesterday, Namjoon had composed practically an entire theory, and now it’s all for naught, considering the main basis of it has simply fallen to pieces within a few sentences. Which means that now, they don’t have any idea what they’re doing, not right back to square one but definitely close to that point. Jimin feels a sense of disappointment flow through him - until he realizes it’s not that simple.

“Wait…since they were arguing yesterday, what if Wang betrayed their original plan and killed Kang instead? If they had some sort of monetary agreement and he was paid upfront, he might have wanted to keep all the money he was given, and the way to do that was to get rid of Kang,” Jimin says, and he’s not sure if what he’s saying makes sense, but based on the way Namjoon stares at him intently, he just might be on to something here.

“Shit, that must be it,” Jimin can see the gears running in Namjoon’s head as he assembles yet another hypothesis in real time. “Kang, he always did have a grudge against Soo. He envied everything Soo had that he didn’t. It’s not too hard to imagine that he would team up with someone in order to take Soo’s position by force, and knowing him it’s not hard to believe Wang didn’t like him very much either.”

Revenge, Jimin recalls, one of the words in the letter he had understood. If Kang had some sort of vendetta against his higher-up, it would make sense that he would phrase it that way, as if he was the victim.

“Do you think that other guy, Saejong, might be involved in this?”

“Hmm…Lee Saejong, he never lusted for power like Kang, but I did get a sense that he was only there out of necessity. If he didn’t need to be there, he wouldn’t be. Most of how he acted was just an act he put on to get through with things, so an opportunity to change the state of things and get rid of someone that no one really liked isn’t something he’d object to. He didn’t get along with Kang well either,”

“You know, for someone who’s not good at social interaction, you’re pretty good at observing people,”

Namjoon shrugs. “It was an important skill, to know if someone was lying or telling the truth or planning on breaking a deal. I was really just adapting to the environment I was in, and once you get into analyzing people, you can’t really turn that part of your brain off, you know?”

Jimin nods, even though he does not, in fact, know, and he can’t relate to anything Namjoon’s saying.

“Well then,” Namjoon says, “maybe we have a theory, but we don’t have any evidence for it yet, and without evidence we’re getting nowhere. Let’s get on with that, shall we?”

•

Wang Mansik is their main suspect, but today, as Jimin follows him around yet again through the hellish traffic of the city, he’s not doing anything particularly suspicious at all.

He stopped shortly at a cafe, coming out after a few minutes with a sandwich, before driving to the building where Sejoo’s firm operates. A relatively normal day for Wang, which means a relatively boring day for Jimin, considering a regular working life isn’t something that he can dig into all that much.

He has a feeling that something is missing here, but he’s not sure what, and so he turns his attention to something that might give him a bit of help if he can only manage to make progress on it: the letter.

He’s been inching his way through comprehending it, but the most important parts of it are the very things that are obscured by burn marks, some partially gone and others completely impossible to figure out, so he hasn’t made any ‘breakthroughs’ since the last time he was following Wang.

Jimin has hit some sort of plateau and he can’t fix it until he gets his way through a few details that he can’t seem to crack, and it frustrates him to no end.

But looking closer at the names of the sender and receiver, based off the context he has, even though it’s difficult to tell and the handwriting throughout the letter is unique enough to throw him off a bit, even though he hadn’t seen it until now, it can’t be denied that the letters that make up those names look an awful lot like Lee Saejong and Wang Mansik.

Or, they do if he squints his eyes enough, but if he’s not willing to settle for less than 100% certainty he’s getting fuck-all out of this thing.

Regardless, this is major. It’s everything he’s been reaching for, really. It’s evidence, an actual, physical thing he could present.

Theoretically, this moment is the time to tell Namjoon, to come clean about everything, the moment where he’s done exactly what he’s wanted since the beginning: made something to show Namjoon that he’s not useless, that he can do things too. Theoretically, he should be celebrating right now. But in reality, much of the immediate rush he feels is quickly taken over by feelings of guilt.

Sighing, he pulls out his phone reluctantly.

He should have told Namjoon from the very beginning, but every second he spends delaying it will make it worse, so the second best time to do it is right now.

Upon unlocking the phone, however, his screen is lit up with an incoming call from none other than Kim Namjoon. Nearly dropping his phone in shock, he taps at his phone a bit harder than necessary to accept it as soon as he can. He’s barely answered before Namjoon starts talking.

“Jimin, Jimin, the cipher, I solved it! I have the name of who sent it, I know everything it’s about. This is actual evidence. We have concrete proof that Wang killed them,” Namjoon says, almost too fast for Jimin to process.

“Holy shit- that’s great! What does it say?” Jimin asks.

“It’s not too long or detailed, but it’s from Wang, saying that he’s just killed Mr. Soo and he’s planning to kill Kang in roughly a month so that it’s not too suspicious. The timeline adds up, so do the methods. This is everything we needed, Jimin,”

“Do you know who it’s to?”

“It didn’t specify, but as long as we have evidence of who actually murdered Soo, I’m in the clear. I’ll turn in the evidence to the police later today, but first I’m going to go to that friend of yours, Sejoo. To say thank you, and also apologize for being an asshole the first time we met,”

Jimin fakes a gasp. “Kim Namjoon, admitting fault? It must be a miracle, truly.”

“Ah, shut it!”

“Anyways, Namjoon…congratulations. And good job on solving the cipher. It’s amazing, and I mean that,” Jimin says, fighting a smile before he remembers that he’s alone in the car, and nobody can see him. And so, he stops holding back.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Namjoon responds without hesitation.

“You sure about that?”

“Give yourself a bit more credit. I couldn’t have gotten this thing at all if you hadn’t introduced me to Sejoo, and you’re not as useless as I thought you would be,” Namjoon says, and Jimin’s mostly sure that the last part is supposed to be a compliment, though it’s hard to tell. Mentally, he starts preparing himself to admit the truth, because if he hesitates too much he knows he won’t ever get to doing it.

“I’m choosing to believe that’s a good thing,”

“It is, and so are you,”

Namjoon hangs up, leaving Jimin again alone with his thoughts and heat climbing up his cheeks, followed by guilt and dread clawing at his chest. He couldn’t tell Namjoon - or, more accurately, he was too much of a coward and didn’t tell Namjoon while he had the chance to.

As his expression slips into a frown, he can’t shake the thought that something is missing, something is wrong, no matter how hard he tries to fill his mind with the idea that they’ve succeeded.

#deal (story)

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wispycecilia · 3 years

Text

hey , pretty stranger !

genshin characters as strangers you’ve met

various! genshin impact x reader. (albedo, childe, diluc, fischl, gorou, hu tao, itto, kaeya, kazuha, scaramouche, thoma, venti, xiangling, xiao, yanfei, zhongli.) - 5037 words.

synopsis: genshin characters as people you’ve encountered, and have remained in your heart ever since then.

notes: modern! AU. long headcanons. british english used. lowercase. some cliche romance tropes used. edited. semi-proofread. gn!reader. mother used in albedo’s one. father used in diluc’s one. slight cursing used. arranged in alphabetical order.

a/n: this was meant to be released way earlier but then word deleted all my work are u srs.. but anywayysss most of these are happy, i promise :) key word is ‘most’ tho. and holy moly these are long asdffghhjkl new record for me!!

masterlist

albedo

• the person who let you have the last carton of eggs. you were rushing to the supermarket in an absolute frenzy; your mother wanted to make desserts, but you used up the last eggs in the house to complete a stupid ‘rubber egg’ science project of yours.

• it was already late, and the chances of the supermarket actually having anything there at all was very slim, but luck seemed to be in your favour??? lo and behold, right there in the poultry aisle, sits the last box of eggs. you could literally hear angels singing.

• well, your glorious moment was interrupted by a third party picking it up before you could. he was observing them with a critical gaze, and in a slight moment of panic, you were debating whether or not you could win against him in a fist fight.

• but as he gave you a quizzical look at your defeated expression, you opted for the second option: begging.

• it was a pitiful sight, really. you were about to get on your knees and plead at the poor guy just for the eggs. you knew your mother would be angry if you came home with nothing, and you weren’t about to risk a scolding, not today!!

• but instead, he just wordlessly handed the carton to you. no small talk, no need for you to throw your dignity to the side, nothing. it was like he could read your mind. you stood there in awe.

• you swear you could see a hint of a smirk on his face, though.

childe

• the attractive person who was taking care of their sibling at the park. he was helping teucer climb up one of those spider web playground equipment things, and then his shirt rised up a bit and. oh. oh my god. ohhhhhh my god?!?!?

• turns out, he was your neighbour… the hot neighbour that you never noticed until now. you’ve interacted with his little siblings before, but never saw him?? and as you were having a mini crisis on a park bench, his little brother noticed you!

• you were invited to join them with a warm smile from both boys, and your heart almost skipped a beat imagining a domestic scene with the two: childe cooking a meal, while you and teucer sit at a table expectantly. ohh you hopeless romantic... imagining all these scenarios with a boy you’ve just met..

• you got attached way too quickly. you thought that childe believed the same: that you two hit it off, but apparently he didn’t. he gave you his number, but only ever initiated conversation if teucer wanted to meet up with you in the park. (the little boy had grown attached to you!) but it was never for anything else. childe never interacted with your ‘how was your day?’ texts at all.

• next thing you knew, the texts eventually faded into nothingness. you heard from a mutual friend of yours that childe started to date a new girl that moved into town, and that the two can be seen in the nearby park, acting like a sickenly sweet couple as they play tag with childe’s siblings.

• you occasionally walk by the park sometimes, and watch in envy as the girl took up the spot that you once had with the boys. it seemed as if teucer completely forgot about you; he liked the new girl more. and childe… he never once looked your way; he never saw you anything beyond a friend to begin with. childe may have never been yours, but a part of your heart still considered him to be a traitor.

diluc

• the person who helped pick your stuff up when you bumped into them. with you being the upcoming successor of a highly esteemed business company, the sight of you rushing to a meeting after sleeping in was embarrassingly undutiful.

• as if your day couldn’t get any worse, you bumped into a stranger along the way, all your files and documents spreading across the pavement like a snowstorm. he initially seemed to carry an impassive look, one that screamed ‘i hate idle chit-chat’, but once diluc saw your face fully?? you swear his eyes perked up in a slight amount of interest.

• one quick apology from both ends later, he helped to pick up all your folders off the ground. and after the situation was all said and done, diluc asked you for your number, his face staying ever-so impassive. and this… just left you shellshocked. him?? the one to initiate romantic advances?? he totally seemed like the unapproachable type. maybe out of your league. but he even called you cute!?!? how even??

• …although, you might’ve gotten your hopes too high up. later that night when you scrambled for the business card diluc scrawled his number on, the dreaded message of ‘number not in use’ popped up on your screen while you sent a quick hi.

• your heart sunk in an instant. one google search of the company written on the business card later, and you found out he was the son of crepus ragvindr, the man who your father left high and dry on a company deal several years ago.

• you seriously thought you had a chance with someone who wouldn’t judge you for your upbringing for once. but, this time round, it looks like you were the one who had gotten fooled once again. why were you involved in your father’s mess?

fischl

• the worker at a super suspicious shop you visited. fischl was there, dressed up in a half-magician half-princess get-up, with… somber music in the back. you entered the shop on an absolute whim, just trying to find a present for a friend, and instead? you get a girl trying to predict your death.

• it was oddly captivating, though, and soon enough, you were a regular visitor in this weird shop. you even managed to stick around long enough to meet the second owner, mona!

• fischl would go off on tangents about myths. in particular, shadow familiars. she claimed she had a pet eagle called ‘oz’ that would take form of a vengeful shadow, and would also do anything she asked.

• fischl dropped the act around you soon enough, and even told you her real name. she poured out secrets about her past that not even mona was aware about. fischl’s past was shrouded in more mystery than the mirror ball on her desk, and yet, she described all her tribulations with the crystal clear intent of getting you to understand her.

• as you two got closer, you realised she was just a sheltered girl that needed a friend. that all of this? this store that she set up with her one childhood friend that she had? was a form of escapism. this coping strategy was one that might be looked down upon by many, but was held in such high regard by you. fischl appreciated your presence more than you could ever know.

• and in your point of view? she was initially a stranger you met by pure accident. but now? she was more than that; fischl was someone you hold dear.

• fischl told you once that she lacked the capability to be loved by others. but, as you clutched the crystal bracelet you made for her against your chest, you hoped that fischl would understand that she was loved and cherished.

gorou

• the stranger who dropped popcorn all over you in the cinema. you two were in a movie premiere for an adaptation of the saddest novel of all time, and to say the least, you were in absolute shambles.

• sad films nowadays were filled with cliches that weren’t enough to make you cry at all. but this one? this one hit straight in the feels. a refreshing feeling, but crushed your ‘stone-faced bitch that refuses to cry during sad films’ title.

• and??? the hypothetical waterfall coming out of your eyes seemed to be so strong that it came into real life. a wave of pure salt and buttered popcorn came pouring out from behind you.

• the tearful moment you had was no longer, and turning around, you came face-to-face with a brown haired boy giving you a sheepish smile, holding an empty popcorn box. the white-haired friend next to him, panicked beyond belief, apologised on his behalf, but the damage has already been done.

• the cinema workers seemed to go heavy-handed with the butter machine today, as you were covered in the thing. great. you looked like an absolute mess; how were you going to recover from this moment socially?

• gorou came down to your row and gave a brief introduction, before offering you some tissues and wrapping his jacket around you. he escorted you to the toilets to clean yourself up, making playful jokes here and there.

• it would’ve been the highlight of your day, but it quickly became sour as he spoiled a pivotal part of the movie to you, only further adding to the pain.

• it’s okay though. gorou was cute; you forgave him. and on the condition that you two go out to watch the movie once more - just you two, alone - this encounter was later forgotten.

hu tao

• the person who was your escape. you were at the countryside temporarily to visit your grandparents for the summer holidays, and you liked to take escapades at nighttime to bask in the chirps of the cicadas.

• you first met hu tao while she was stuffing ‘help me’ and ‘come here at 3am’ notes underneath rocks at the riverbank the kids would stay at. the shock on her face as you caught her in the act is something that still makes you laugh to this day.

• after that, you two kept your nighttime meetings consistent. it would always be during a luminescent moonlight, besides the run-down convenience store that stood just above the river you first met at.

• you never caught each other’s name, but it didn’t matter. all that mattered was the picturesque memories you’d make together: climbing on top of a playground to look at the stars, watching the fish at the river, and you entertaining hu tao’s pranks by acting surprised whenever she snuck up on you.

• though, of course, good things always come to an end. you were just visiting the countryside, so you had no choice but to leave hu tao behind. you keep those memories in your heart, feeling melancholic every time you reminisce on the best summer you’ve ever had.

• hu tao gave you a ghost plushie before you left, telling you to call it ‘boo tao’. and yet, still, as you asked her for her name or any form of contact, she just gave you a smile, one that was unusually sad for her joyful self.

• ‘mysteries make the moment more special, don’t you think?’

• you hoped that the next time you came to visit, hu tao would be sitting there where you first met, welcoming you back with a tight hug and the cheerful smile you loved so much.

itto

• the stranger who got you a stuffed toy from a festival stall. it was one of those absolutely infuriating strength games. you know, the one where you’d have to smack a table super hard with a hammer? yeah. those ones. the neon sign saying ‘strong striker’ was literally mocking you. you were neither strong or a striker from the looks of things. the game absolutely was rigged.

• although you’d probably neglect the toy after the adrenaline from winning it wears off, who cares? whatever! it would fit perfectly in the depths of your closet with the rest of your carnival winnings!

• you were going broke and wasted literal hours on this one game.. you hadn’t even had the chance to try out the cotton candy stall from the other end of the carnival yet! any rational person would’ve stopped right now, but who said you had self control?

• as you were about to hand over your last coins, an unmistakably attractive and muscular stranger stops your hand. he gives you a reassuring smile, before proceeding to look at the game with a challenging glare.

• ‘leave it to me, stranger!’

• …and just like that, the stranger hit the table so hard with the toy hammer that the meter just. went off the scale. the vendor, who was once looking at you with a look of maliciousness due to literally robbing you of all your money, was now awestruck at the sheer power the man holds.

• you felt your heart drop as he claimed the stuffed toy you were so obviously eyeing, but as he looked at you with a satisfied smirk (maybe even a little cocky), he handed it over to you with little-to-no reluctance, before proceeding to return back to the group of friends who were mocking him for showing off so much.

• before he left, though, he asked you to name the stuffed toy ‘itto’, after his name. you did comply to itto’s wish, and instead of rotting in the back of your closet, the toy sits on your bed, reminding you of the both kind (and a little terrifying) stranger who you met on a not-so average saturday night.

kaeya

• the worker at an arcade you were visiting. you went to the arcade to blow off some steam after a relatively rough day, and decided to give their bowling venue a shot.

• what you didn’t expect, however, was how absolutely shit you’d be at it. a worker took pity on you and decided to put up the side railings so there would be no way you could miss a shot, and somehow?? It still never hit??

• after the 2nd set and an endless amount of disappointment, a worker, clad in the tacky uniform he had to wear, walked up to your station and just... laughed in your face. way to make the day worse, asshole.

• he then proceeded to ask you needed a ramp because of how bad you were at bowling and?? come on?? he knew you were bad; you knew you were bad. but, he could’ve at least tried to be discreet with your lack of bowling abilities??

• the stranger was at least perceptive enough to realise that you weren’t in the mood to entertain his friendly bantering, and even offered to play with you after his shift ended. just to teach you the proper ropes of bowling, of course.

• your day may have had a rough start, but kaeya, as the stranger claimed was his name, was here to pick you back up.

kazuha

• the library crush. you first saw him while cramming a project of yours; you needed more stable wifi - the mcdonald’s one just wouldn’t cut it anymore - and had to renew your library card to be able to get in.

• and… shit?? since when did librarians get so hot??? you’ve only ever encountered the stereotypical ones. the old, cranky men that would yell at you if you were ever caught speaking a bit too loud.

• soon, these visits of yours became more and more regular. you’d pretend to act like you’re studying, but in reality, you were admiring the librarian that sat so beautifully on the front desk. you often daydreamed, wondering what he would look like if the afternoon glow cascaded against his face.

• you’d constantly sit at the table adjacent to the desk so you could get the best view of him as possible. maybe even occasionally freak out whenever he would smile at the book he was reading because.. he was just so cute??

• you thought you were being slick with your admiration, but apparently not. because one day, as you were ‘reading’ one of the books you just borrowed from him for ‘research’, kazuha approached you with a cheeky remark.

• ’the book is upside-down, you know.’

• that knowing, cunning (and dare you assume, a little flirtatious?) look on his face said it all. he knew your ulterior motive this whole time, and this slip-up of yours just gave you away completely.

• but it didn’t matter, because in the end, you received a kiss on your forehead, a reminder to take care of yourself, and a number scrawled on a sticky note on the book you borrowed.

• you may have just landed yourself a prince in the kingdom of literature <3

scaramouche

• the stranger who you dubbed as the ‘vending machine rager’. you know those compilations of those 12 yr olds screaming at their xbox on youtube? yeah. that was scaramouche, but with a can of cola instead.

• you’ve never seen someone take canned drinks so… seriously before??? it was. questionable. from afar, it looked like a child baby-raging at a vending machine for not giving them their soft drink.

• this thought of yours only intensified when you went closer, and saw that yes, he was kicking the vending machine out of anger. all you wanted was a strawberry calpis from the machine, but instead, you get a boy blocking everyone else from accessing it. poor you.

• eventually, the guy’s rage was no longer humorous to you, and you just felt bad that he was going this far. usually, people would’ve left it alone already and tried a different machine?? but he was still here??

• you purchased the drink directly above his stuck one, and it knocked it down instantly… scaramouche’s 2 hours of suffering was solved within 2 minutes of your presence. boss moment.

• you handed his drink to him with a smile; he gave you a disgruntled expression. not even a thank you in return. how rude. but this is a story you tell your friends often, just to lighten the mood. after all, what's funnier than an xbox kid personified in the flesh?

thoma

• the stranger who re-enacted a drama scene with you. there was a venue opened up for a drama that was trending at the time, and the workers were handing out props and other merchandise that was featured in the show.

• you were out of money, but there was still this trinket that you wanted to buy. the friend who you came with offered to get it for you, on the condition that you shout out one of the most famous lines, all in an attempt to embarrass you, of course.

• with absolutely no shame, you yelled, ‘why do you look at me like that?’

• what you didn't expect was someone from the other side of the shop to join in with you too, completing the iconic line of the well-known show, ‘how else should i look at you?’

• you two locked eyes, and you were convinced you found your soulmate. after all, no one had looked at you with such a warm expression like that before. the boyish laugh he gave, paired with your faint laughs of amusement, captivated the entire shop.

• from an outsider looking in, you and him looked like you knew each other all your life; like you were destined to be together. you later approached thoma, making light conversation to get to know this enigmatic stranger a bit more.

• but he revealed to you that he was enlisted in the army, and was due to resume training in a week or so. any opportunities for a relationship, let alone a friendship, were completely eliminated.

• thoma settled on taking a picture together, where you and him were holding hands, backs facing towards the camera. it remains as your lockscreen to this day. you’d visit the spot once every full moon, in hopes for looking for the boy of ‘what could have been’, called thoma.

venti

• the busker who everyone was ignoring. the city was crowded and bustling in a way it never had before, but for some reason, even in the sea of people, venti managed to shine and stand out from the crowd.

• that day, you were in a rush to chase up a replacement for a kettle you owned, but as soon as you saw him pouring his heart and soul out into his performances, only for people to not even bat an eye in his direction?? what??

• you had placed to be, but you guess they could wait. and, the smile venti gave you as he noticed you watching his performance attentively, made it all worth it. the conversation you two had afterwards is one that you hold dearly, and you swore to yourself you would help him in any way you could.

• he would be there every tuesdays and wednesdays, always at the same time too: 2pm. and so without fail, you’d show up, 5 minutes early, watching him set up his instruments and the speakers so skillfully.

• venti loved having you around. little did you know, he would’ve given up had you not noticed him and supported him since that day.

• you knew diamond in a rough when you see it, and turns out, a man working in a scouting agency thought so too. you saw him giving venti a card one day, and the next, venti was no longer on the designated spot where he would play his songs.

• he was a shimmering star in the sea of talents, and you were there to watch him grow, right from the beginning. a star is nothing without the support from you, his fuel and fire, to shine.

• you smile in absolute glee whenever you see venti and his recent albums being advertised on the billboards across your city. you hoped he still remembered who you were; his first fan, the first person to see his potential to hit it big.

• but it was okay if he didn’t. you’d support him anyways.

xiangling

• the stranger who kept going for free food samples at the food stall you worked at. she’d appear like, 10 minutes apart from each visit, each time with a half-assed disguise. even the little kid who refused to leave you alone noticed her after a while??

• you weren’t allowed to give out more than 3 portions at once of the sliced chili steak you were handing out, but she was on her 15th sample… oh goodness. you’re getting in trouble, alright.

• you knew you had to stop xiangling’s madness soon, or else you’re getting fired, but as she comes up to you with a fake moustache from the $2 dollar store, an obviously fake deep voice, paired up with an equally cute laugh at the end that gave away her disguise? who were you to decline?

• she kept coming until the end of your shift, using obviously fake names such as ‘bartholomew’ or ‘margaret’... it honestly impressed you on how much costumes and disguises she owned. she probably prepared this in advance.

• after that incident, you were never placed in the food station again. a co-worker ratted you out for having favouritism between customers, but who could blame you? she was so cute.

• chances are, she found another food place to harass for free samples. good on her. who knows? maybe you’ll encounter her again during one of your mall adventures. who knows. <3

xiao

• the airport crush. it was a dull morning, and you were preparing yourself for the jet-lag that was undoubtedly going to occur. and then, in the sunlight, you see the prettiest stranger you’ve ever seen in your life.

• you thought that would be it. that after the quick, fleeting eye contact you two made, that you’d never see the man again. it did put a slight ache in your heart.

• then?? he was literally on the same flight and everything?? this is your chance?? but you were wayyy too shy and couldn’t gather up enough gall to approach him and ask for his number. the guy had a certain air about him, one that seemed unapproachable, as if he was a deity that you could do nothing besides stare upon.

• you tried every method beside approaching him, though. you got so desperate that you even tried to airdrop people, asking if they know (or are) the guy in seat 365. however, it was all futile. you were unaware that the guy didn’t even own an iphone.

• and finally, as you two, by some miracle, end up leaving at the same terminal once more, you mustered up enough courage to approach him.

• but with his response of a quick ‘i’m in a rush; you’re wasting my time’, all your fantasies of ever seeing the fleeting airport crush once more were crushed beyond comprehension.

• nowadays, whenever you see a similar shade of green hair, you hide and revert your gaze as quick as possible. that nauseating feeling whenever you think of that day was too much for you to handle.

yanfei

• your stupid friend’s legal advisor who they were crushing on massively. your friend got into some massive legal trouble after knocking down an entire aisle of precious antiques at a pawn shop, and now here you two are.

• you initially refused to play any part in this, but they did absolutely everything to persuade you to come with them because, in verbatim, ‘my lawyer is the prettiest person ever!!’

• they even sent you the whole ‘ohh lawrd im goin to jail my lawyers hot’ when they first met up with yanfei. put a leash on your friend so they don’t go and jump on her please <3

• they did end up convincing you to go, eventually. it was on the condition that they’ll go out and take you out to a restaurant you’ve always been wanting to try.

• but as soon as you saw the lawyer in question, sitting on her desk with a sense of maturity that you could never imagine having, even though you were most likely the same age??

• oops. looks like you fell for the legal advisor too. good luck to you :)

• that fluttering in your chest only seemed to increase as she sent you a warm smile, obviously well aware that you were forced here. yanfei even offered you her candy jar to keep yourself entertained as she talks business with your friend.

• you two wouldn’t be just strangers for long, and you both knew it.

zhongli

• the coffee shop stranger. you’ve imagined this scenario plenty of times before, actually. it’ll be a cute moment: you’ll forget your wallet at home, and the cute guy behind you will offer to pay for it in full, asking for nothing besides your number in exchange.

• ohhhh nope!! how wrong you were!!! as the man in front of you, clad in a crisp suit, sheepishly turns around, (all the while a disgruntled worker who was definitely not getting paid enough for this sighs in the back) asks if you had any spare change??

• you wanted to curse the universe for this. what have you done wrong to deserve such a thing? the opportunity was right there, the stars were all aligned, so what have you done? you thought you’ve been a relatively good person all your life.

• seriously. why were you the one paying for him?? it was meant to be the other way around. what made it even worse was that he ordered the most expensive thing on the menu. the bashful smile that he gave you made your anger dissipate for a second. just a second, though. annddd then you were back to staring holes into the back of head.

• as he hands you his business card, thanking you for your kindness before promptly walking off, you stare in absolute awe. you weren't shocked because of how rushed his thank you was - the only thing in your mind was that he didn’t even give you his number after all that. the fantasy in your head was completely crushed now.

• but as you flipped the card around, your shock increased tenfold. morax co. was scribed perfectly onto the black card??? even a child would know that name. it was one of the most well-known companies around.

• maybe this encounter wasn’t too bad after all.

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parkersroses · 3 years

Text

mother’s day. | harry styles.

summary: it’s mother’s day and harry makes you breakfast in bed, no thanks to your little baby’s help.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

wc: 2.4k words

warning(s): all fluffy like cotton candy <3

a/n: (disclaimer: gif belongs to @harrysimpact) happy mother’s day everyone! enjoy this fic about husband/dad!harry !! make sure to reblog and comment if you like it, consider donating to my ko-fi too if you like this or any of my other writings. all the love <3

The sun is just rising when Harry wakes up; even for him it’s very early and he’s usually a morning person. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and stretches, feeling a pop between the muscles as he does so. He makes sure to switch off any alarms to ensure his wife doesn’t wake up soon. He even switches off the baby monitor next to her bedside table too, hoping their baby doesn't wake up so soon either, though it would be inevitable knowing she’ll cry for milk.

It’s mother’s day. What’s more exciting is that it is your first mother’s day as a mother.

Over the last year, you have found motherhood to be as challenging as you expected. It started off with the morning sickness and strange feeling of not bearing a certain smell. At that point, both you and Harry had already discussed having children. It’s something the both of you always wanted and you knew yourself that Harry would be an amazing father to your children. The thought of having a little human that was half of you and half of the person you love and adore, running and playing around the house as your husband playfully chases after them in your backyard while you watch with awe. It was a cute little dream in your heads that soon became a reality.

You both cried when you found out about your pregnancy. It was a momentous and exciting moment for you. Over the several months during your pregnancy, Harry had grown a bit overprotective about you and your little bub, yet you don’t really blame him for it and assumed it’s just his pre-fatherly instincts kicking in. Harry had always made sure to accommodate to your (weird and odd) needs and cravings. He’d happily wake up in the middle of the night and get you both some snacks, despite being tired himself.

Your favourite part though, is whenever Harry would talk to little bub. Even when you weren’t showing yet, he’d always talk to the baby girl in your belly, occasionally singing to her, telling her how much daddy and mommy loves her and that he’ll always be around to look after her. That makes you cry sometimes, because you knew already that he is the best dad to your baby.

Little Amy was soon born before you both know it. You still remember holding the little human of your own in your arms, all swaddled up in a fluffy blanket, her eyes wide open as she was introduced into this whole new world. She had captured both of your hearts and you both knew it. She was the most precious person you’ve laid your eyes on and you both love her immensely.

Harry for one could not believe that he was finally a father, considering he’s always dreamt of having a little family of his own. It was up until the delivery that he remembers how much you’ve given to carry Amy and how amazing you are to have carried and nurtured her for so long. He’s never loved anyone even more than he loves you and now with Amy.

Harry intentionally wakes up earlier than you today, despite his schedule begging for him to sleep again. He looks over you next to him, seeing that you’re still huddled up under your thick blankets and your face pressed against your pillow. He takes notice of your chest rising and falling from every breath you take and how pretty you look on this morning.

He leans over and plants a small kiss on your head, careful to not wake you as he gets out of bed. He pulls on a pair of sweatpants and walks out of your room, gently closing the door behind him.

He makes his way across the hall to where little Amy is sleeping in her nursery. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already up at this hour, probably so she could cry out for some food or comfort from her parents. Harry slowly opens the door, he can already hear the soft sounds of Amy moving around in her crib.

It’s almost as if she’s been waiting for him to come because her head perks as he leans over her crib. “Good morning, my little bub,” he says gently to her, already smiling so bright at the adorable little human looking up at him. Amy looks up at him with the same bright smile, her limbs flailing around in excitement as she sees her father.

“Da,” she says, giggling as he caresses her head lovingly. Her arms reach up, signalling that she wants to be carried like the little princess Harry says she is. He gladly picks her up, letting their noses nuzzle against each other before he kisses her head.

“Y’know what today is, bub?” Harry asks Amy. Amy merely stares at him, not understanding a single word, with the same green eyes she inherited from him. It still makes him choke up just thinking about it. Amy coos as her little hands trace over the swallow tattoos. “Today’s Mother’s Day,” he says in an excited voice, and he chuckles at the way her head perks up.

“Mama?” She asks, her green eyes staring innocently and adorably at him. He nods, bouncing her lightly in his arms as he carries her out from the room.

“That’s right, bubba. It’s mama’s day, and you’re gonna help me make her breakfast. Except you won’t really be doing anything but watching me and keeping me company. Let’s be honest, your cooking skills aren’t the most helpful yet, bubs,” he tells her as they enter the kitchen, setting Amy down in her high chair.

Amy giggles, seemingly finding whatever Harry said funny. He grins at his adorable little baby, sometimes all he wants to do is cuddle with her and smother her with all the love he has for her. “Yeah bubs? Gonna help me or sit here lookin’ cute and adorable while daddy cooks?” He asks as he leans down so his face is levelled with hers. Amy simply giggles and nods at his father, even though she tends to nod at nearly everything they both say to her.

Harry laughs and kisses her chubby cheeks. “Love you, my little bub,” he tells her. She babbles at him as her hands reach for his face. “Yeah, love me too? I think you do,” he says, kissing her little nose which makes her giggle again.

Harry begins to make breakfast as Amy sits and watches him, babbling and cooing at him as he does. He nods and talks back to her like they are having a simple conversation, him simply agreeing with whatever she says.

“Want a bite, bub?” He holds up a piece of strawberry in front of Amy and he grins widely as she tries to reach out for the red fruit. “Taking that as a ‘yes, please’,” he jokes as he bites off a tiny piece of the fruit for her to take. Amy hums in delight as she munches. He watches in awe of the little baby as he eats the rest of the fruit.

At one point, he heats up some milk as Amy starts to get fussy.

Harry doesn’t make much for breakfast, simply making some half boiled eggs, french toasts, some cut up fruits and coffee. He hums in the tune of one of his songs, Amy bobbing her head as she drinks her milk, enjoying this quality time with her father as he hums and sings to her. It is no doubt that she has grown familiar with the songs he sings to her. Harry’s convinced that she must’ve heard him even when she was still in your belly.

As he watches the oil sizzling around the bread, he feels two arms wrapped around his waist and a head on his shoulder. He grins at the familiar touch of his wife. It’s amazing how the both of you have grown familiar to each other’s touch through all the years.

He turns around, keeping a hand on the handle of the pan and the other arm wrapped around you, kissing your head. “Morning, my love,” he says, laying his head on hers. “Morning, baby,” you mumble out in a tired voice. “Bed was cold,” you pout as you stifle a yawn from your mouth.

He chuckles at your tired state, knowing how much you enjoy waking up next to him instead of an empty bed space. “Happy Mother’s day, lovie,” he tells you, smiling as he sees how your face lights up at his words. You couldn’t believe it yourself that you’re able to spend this special with your little family. “Thank you, bubs,” you beam at him, leaning up to kiss him. Harry hums into the kiss, his lips moving slowly against yours.

A baby’s babbling snaps you both from the kiss you shared, you could see your baby girl whining as she reaches out for you. You both laugh at this, breaking away as you walk over to her. “Hello, my little baby love,” you say as you kisses all over her face, eliciting giggles from Amy. “Mama,” she says, nuzzling her face into your neck.

“Have you been helping daddy cook?” You ask her as you brush through her soft curls. You hear Harry scoff behind you as you say this. “She hasn’t been helping at all, just bossing around in her little high chair,” he says jokingly, Amy laughs at his fake pouty expression directed at her.

“And you,” he says as he turns off the stove, walking over to you. “Should be in bed. Was gonna bring ya breakfast in bed as a surprise. All romantic and shit.” You slap a hand on his shoulder as he curses. Harry laughs at this as he wraps his arms around you. “Don’t swear around her,” you tell him with a fake angry tone.

Amy pays no attention to them, busying herself by finishing her little bottle of milk. You turn around to face him, hanging her arms around his shoulders. “Now, I feel bad. I could just run back up, pretend to be asleep until you come in,” you suggest, running your fingers through his curls. He sighs at the comforting feeling.

“Mmm. The surprise is kind of ruined now, so,” he shrugs as he says in a matter of fact. You roll your eyes at him. “Well, I still would love to have breakfast in bed with my baby and my handsome and loving, made by said husband,” you say cheekily at him.

Harry grins at you, resting his forehead on yours. “Handsome and loving husband, huh? Gotta be one lucky bloke to have married an amazing woman,” he teases, making you throw your head back laughing. “Alright then,” he says, patting your bum. “Go on then. Pretend you’re sleeping, give me an award-winning performance when I come up.”

You hum as you give him a quick peck on the lips. “See you in bed, my handsome husband!” You call out behind you as you make your way out of the kitchen. Amy puts down her finished bottle and frowns as her mother goes off. “Mama?” She pouts at her father.

Harry comforts her as he kisses her head. “We’ll join her in a bit, Amy. Gotta get breakfast ready.” She coos in response as she traces over the butterfly tattoo on his stomach.

Harry puts Amy in the baby sling they bought for her as he prepares the food on a tray. He coos at her as she cuddles up on his chest, loving the warmth he radiates. He slowly balances the food tray as they ascend up the stairs to your bedroom.

When he pushes the door open, he sees you in bed, seemingly asleep, although the hint of smile on your face would say otherwise. He gently sets the tray down on your bed. Amy is already reaching out for you as he sits next to you.

He shakes you gently. “Wake up, lovie.” Your eyes flutter open, smiling sweetly at your two loves. “Hello, my loves,” you say to them. You both laugh at the silliness as you lean up to kiss his lips. You take Amy out of the sling and set her on your lap.

“So, was my performance worthy of an award?” You tease him as you kiss all over Amy’s face, making her giggle.

“Oh yeah, definitely. Couldn’t tell you were acting,” he plays along.

You sniff in the delicious scent of food laid out in front of you. You moan in delight as you lay your head on his shoulder. “I love you. Thank you.”

“I love you too, honey.” He kisses your head. He kisses you again, long enough for the feel of his lips to linger on yours. “Happy Mother’s day,” he says lovingly, taking a piece of the french toast he made.

You beam at him as he entertains with Amy’s babbling. And you think to yourself, you would much rather just stay at home, order in food and watch movies in bed with them today. Perhaps Harry might be up to take a nice bubble bath when Amy has her usual afternoon naps.

Truthfully, you couldn’t wait to spend more Mother’s Days, as long as you are with your two loves. And hopefully, with more little ones in the future.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #dad!harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #parkersroses writing #harry styles x reader

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malleux · 4 years

Note

Hey I have a request for corpse! I think during either his q&a livestream from a few years back or the one from last year he said he’s bad at cooking and I would therefore like to request the reader coming over to his place as like a ‘meal prepper’ who cooks like all kinds of meals for him and one time he invited her to stay for dinner? Idk if it’s too complicated lmao but I’m just really feeling some fluff rn

dinner. | corpse husband

-> Pairing: Corpse Husband x GN!Reader

-> Genre: Fluff, Crack

-> Warnings: Cursing

-> A/N: hi anon, i accidentally deviated from the request just a little bit, so i’m sorry! i hope it’s still okay!

send me an ask or a message if you’d like to be on any of my taglists!

“Corpse, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m sorry! I really thought I had it this time.”

You walked into the small kitchen in Corpse’s apartment, looking haphazardly at the… creation in his cake pan. The inside of the cake looked something akin to a pudding, making you cringe.

“Did- did you cook it long enough?”

“Yeah? It said like 35 minutes. I did everything right, I thought.” Corpse’s tone became dejected and you knew he was beating himself up for messing up.

“You used the right amount of water?” You asked. He nodded. “Two eggs?” Another nod. “What size eggs?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you bought me in the fridge.”

You suddenly laughed out loud, making Corpse quirk an eyebrow. “Those are extra large eggs, so that you have more when you make them for breakfast, silly. The recipe needs regular sized eggs, that’s why it’s all weird inside.”

He didn’t say much, instead looking down at the tile floor. You felt bad for laughing, but you couldn’t help it. He truly was trying his hardest despite knowing that he wasn’t the best chef in the world. You stepped forward and placed a hand on his cheek, making him look at you. You pretended not to see the blush on his cheeks and fought to keep your own at bay.

“Tell you what. Tonight, I’ll come over and teach you how to cook my favorite dish. We can hang out and eat together, too. How does that sound?”

Corpse only leaned his cheek into your hand and nodded.

A few hours later, Corpse opened his apartment door, letting you in and helping you with the large bag of ingredients that you had brought with you from your own apartment down the hall.

He grabbed a large pack of uncooked chicken from the bag and looked at you questionably, but you just beamed up at him.

“Chicken parm!”

“So we’re cooking fancy shit, huh? Didn’t take you to be the high maintenance type.” Corpse teased.

You slapped him on the shoulder and he had a supress the small shiver that ran up his spine at the touch. “You know I love cooking- of course I’m gonna know some decent dishes. You just never eat anything other than takeout, but once you get a taste of my cooking you’ll never go back.”

“That or I’ll die from how bad it is.” You gave him a look. “Kidding. What do I need to do?”

You thought for a moment. “Coat the chicken in flour, then in egg, and then coat it in the crumbs I’m about to pull out. Sounds easy enough, right?”

Corpse nodded and got the supplies out, filling a bowl with flour while you pulled out a pan and began heating up the stove. He grabbed one of the chicken breasts and examined it for a minute before putting it in front of his upper lip and turning to you with a childish grin.

“I’ve got a moustache.”

“Corpse!” You snorted, covering your mouth to hide a laugh, “Get that away from your face! You’re gonna get salmon vanilla.”

“Salmon- what? Fucking salmonella? Say it right, you dunce.” Corpse laughed.

“You say it right! I don't want you to get Sam and Ella!”

Corpse was nearly crying at this point, doubling over from laughing as you threw your head back in another cackle. He could barely catch his breath as he grabbed a small bit of unused flour and flicked it in your face, giggling out a small “shut up!”

You gasped, suddenly feeling the powder cover your face and Corpse stood up straight, ready to apologize if he’d upset you.

Instead, you grabbed a handful of the flour and tossed it on him, running away laughing as he processed the white powder now adorning his black shirt before smiling and taking off after you.

“No! No, let me go, I’m sorry!” You cried out as he caught up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and hoisting you up to bring you back into the kitchen. “Give me your shirt, I’ll wash it! I promise!”

Corpse smirked, still holding onto you as you struggled in his grasp. “You want me to take my shirt off?”

You flushed, realizing what you’d said. “No- oh my God- Please! Put me down and we can finish the chicken permission!”

He laughed again, “Only if you promise to start saying words right.”

“Okay! I promise!”

Corpse set you down gently and you both stayed silent, taking a moment to catch your breaths and soothe the ache in your cheeks from smiling so much. It seemed like every time you were in Corpse’s presence, you were smiling. You were the happiest when you were with him and you certainly weren’t complaining about it.

The rest of the dinner preparation went without a hitch, despite Corpse’s nervousness about messing something up. You watched him out of the corner of your eye often, checking on him and making sure he was okay. Not once did he mess up. You were proud and made sure to tell him often.

Finally, the dish was finished and plated. Flour covered most of the kitchen, but the dinner was complete and looked delicious. You couldn’t wait to chow down.

“You’re- you’re staying for dinner, right?” Corpse looked back at you as he headed to his couch to sit down

“No, I was going to simply leave.” You responded sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes, holding back a grin as you grabbed your own plate and followed him to the living room. You both ate your first bites of chicken at the same time, Corpse watching you for your reaction.

“It’s perfect!” You exclaimed, “At this rate, you’re gonna be like that chef off of Ratatoodie. What’s his name? Linguine?”

Corpse let out an incredulous breath at your purposefully awful pronunciation. “Shut the fuck up, oh my God.” He joked.

You laughed and leaned your head against his shoulder. “For real, though, it’s amazing. You did amazingly and I’m super proud of you.”

Corpse stayed silent, only reaching an arm around you and squeezing your shoulders as he scrolled through Netflix to find a movie to watch with your dinner before finally speaking up.

“If I’m Linguine, then you’re the little rat helping me out and supporting me behind the scenes.”

“Aw, Corpse- wait, did you just call me a rat?”

┎┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

corpse taglist: @namjoons-crabssss @lookingforaplacetosleep @teenloves @princess00wifi @pillowjj @nvm-idgaf @creativedogs @wildflowerwhore @chillininahottub-withaghost @whyisquill @holosexualunicorn7000 @ourheavenlyemotions @corbins-kinda-smart @harryhighkey @sokkaspaintings @saturn2000 @a-dot-dev @bean04 @helena-way07 @tooturntashbash @locallolli @simonsbluee @redperson58 @reddeserths @annshit @corpsie-bby @emperor-pizza @vacaprincess @adorably-sweet-hufflepuff @rolls-and-rolex @supernovavision @bestgirlkonan @hughugh20 @theolwebshooter @johnjacobjingleheimerschmidt @shinyyoonie @milybones @propertyofdindjarin @qatiee @sunshineandrainyflowers @dontlookatmeidk @kxsmicsmain @corpsesgirl @witchybarb @princessnnylzays @petit-chausseur-detoiles @mmonamona @heartbroken-writer @squintyangel @crapimahuman @honestlyimstilllivinginthe90s @mute-chaos @bluewneptune @yongboxerrr @emmapotato88 @devilish-ducky @marmaladebreadwithhoney @chimchimsugakookies @redlikeiron @crystalbaby12 @persephoncs @btsiguess-kpop @utopiakys

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#fics #fanfiction #fic blog #writing #x reader #lay writes #requests #anon #asks #corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagines #corpse x reader #corpse imagines

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twisted-wonderland-shenanigans · 2 years

Text

Well everyone, welcome back! So while I’m still working on requests and the asks from the event, today I wanted to do a little something different. Especially since…well…

[…it’s okay. You can say it.]

…right. As you guys may have noticed, the ‘Phantom Muse’ ghost writer struck again and—understandably—a lot of the deities are a little spooked…especially Jamil. We thought it had been another person—another mortal like me—that had hacked my account to post these things, but the fact that they knew Jamil’s story? Something that only the other deities knew about…?

[That means someone in or out of the pantheons did it. That’s why Rook and Ortho hadn’t sniffed out the perp: they were looking for mortal hackers, not deity ones.]

“Funyaa…that’s pretty creepy, yanno?” Sniffle… “I can’t stop thinking about that story though…”

Same…that curse sounds awful…

[It is. Also…who does this troll think they are?! Claiming my disciple’s inspiration for the blog? Calling her a lorekeeper? Are you SRS right now?!]

“Eep! He’s scary when he’s mad…”

Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay! It’ll be okay, Cater. Let’s just…keep working on the blog. Okay?

Sigh… [Fine. Okay…so, whatcha got planned for today’s post?]

Well, since everyone has a tendency to drop in unannounced, I thought it would be fun to show the readers here a little glimpse into what life looks like with powerful deities visiting at all hours of the day!

[Oooh, that sounds totes fun! How should I tag it?]

“Noisy!”

Chaotic-

“Annoying…”

-but fun!

[Gotcha!] Click! [Okay: #disciplelife #noisyannoyingchimera #chaoticbutfundeities #smh. And…posted! So, when’re you gonna start this?]

From 3:00 yesterday.

[Really? Isn’t 3:00 pm a bit late in the day?]

No. 3:00 am.

[Eh?! Why so early?]

Because some of you seem to forget that we mortals need to sleep and don’t appreciate bright lights or loud noises.

[Wha-?]

You’ll see…anyway, hope ya’ll enjoy!

(Under a read more because long! No warnings other than Lilia's cooking.)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

3:00 am—Accidental Sunrise

Faun: *peacefully sleeping under soft blankets before stirring when light starts filling the room* “Mmf…mornin’ alre’dy?” *looks up* “…hm? GAH!!?”

Leona: “Ugh…do you have to scream in my ear, mortal?”

Faun: “Wha-? How did-? Why are you in my bed?! How did you even get in here?”

Leona: “Magic. And you always have those really soft blankets we can’t get in our realm.”

Faun: “Seriously?...wait, what time is it?” *checks clock* “…it’s not even past three o’clock yet, why is it so brigh-? Oh, right. Your sun disk…”

Leona: “You figured it out. Good job—now let me sleep.”

Faun: “…are you avoiding your brother or your nephew.”

Leona: “Take a wild guess.”

Faun: “Both. Got it. Could you at least dim the brightness so I can sleep too?”

Leona: “Fine…”

Grim: “Hey! I’m gone for two minutes and he stole my spot! Wher’m I s’pposed to sleep?!”

7:00—Alarm Clocks are Overrated

All three are sleeping peacefully…

Sebek: *slams door open* “MORTAL!! Lilia-sama has summoned you for breakfast. Awaken!”

Faun: *on the ground clutching chest* “…I think my heart just stopped…”

Sebek: “Hmph—nonsense! You are alive and talking, are you not?”

Leona: *tangled in the comforter* “You need to get a refund on that alarm clock…”

Faun: “…I know you just said something snarky, Leona, but my ears are ringing from the talking thunder cloud.”

Grim: *fainting goat pose* “Funyaa…too loud…”

7:30—Breakfast is Served, Part One

Lilia: “Good morning, my child~!”

Faun: “Good mor—ning? What ah…what is all this?”

Lilia: “Why, breakfast of course. I made all your favorites~! Eggs and bacon, waffles, toast, and freshly squeezed juice!”

The table has several dishes filled with purple, green, and black “food”.

Grim: “Fygah! Did that pile of sludge just move?!”

Lilia: “Ah yes, those would be the waffles. Here, why not start off with a bowl of cereal?”

Faun: “…why is the cereal on fire?”

Lilia: “I have no idea. The cereal simply caught fire the moment I poured the milk. Perhaps a new brand?”

Faun: “I’m starting to wonder if someone put a curse on you…”

8:30—Breakfast is Served, Part Two

Trey: “Would you like another cinnamon bun?”

Faun: “Yes, please!”

Grim: “Me too!”

Faun: “Thanks for inviting us to breakfast and tea, Riddle, Trey.”

Riddle: “You’re very welcome any time.”

Grim: “I’ll take tea and sweets over a bowl of fire cereal and sludge!”

Riddle: “I beg your pardon?”

Faun: “Lilia tried to cook us breakfast and set a bowl of cereal on fire just pouring the milk in.”

Trey: “……how??”

9:30—It’ll be a breeze~!

Faun: “Wow, it’s pretty windy today. You having a good day, Ace?”

Ace: “Sure am! Just gained a new follower and they left an offering to get my blessing.”

Deuce: “Oh, so that’s where you got the cherry pie from? I thought you swiped it from Trey when he wasn’t looking again.”

Ace: “Hey! That was an accident. How was I supposed to know that it was for the Unbirthday Party that day?”

Grim: “Accident or not, food grudges are no jo-oke!” *gets blown backwards into Faun’s legs*

Faun: “I gotcha-oop!”

Deuce: “Careful!” *uses shield and wing to block wind current* “Ace, you need to turn down the wind.”

Ace: “What’s the matter, Juice? Afraid they’ll get blown away?”

Deuce: “Oi! It’s not Juice, it’s Deuce! You’ve had eons to remember that! And of course I’m worried—you remember what happened the last time, don’t you? Faun got hurt rolling down the hill!”

Faun: “I mean…it was kinda fun, minus the broken arm.”

Ace: “Oh calm down, will ya? That was an accident, and she’s fine! Besides, mortals have the durability predictability of a phone: they’ve survived worst things than a little wind.”

Deuce: “Your idea of a ‘little wind’ involves whirlwinds and tornados.”

Ace: “Oh yeah? Well then, how’s this for a little wind?”

FWOOSH!!!

Deuce: “Gah!”

Faun & Grim: “Whaaaa-!!!”

Ace: “…oops…”

Deuce: “I got’em!”

11:30—Catch a Cold (Wolf) in the Rain

Ruggie: “Whoa! What happened to you?”

Faun: *completely soaked to the bone and shivering* “F-Floyd thought t-that it’d be…f-funny to make it r-rain on J-J-Jack.”

Ruggie: “Oof…so you got hit with winter and rain magic at the same time, huh?”

Grim: *teeth chattering and looking like a wet cat* “W-w-whadda…jerk! Eh…a-a…achoo!!”

Ruggie: “Ah man, can’t have you two getting’ sick on me. Here, take a seat by the hearth. It’ll warm ya while I fix up some lunch, m’kay?”

Nana Bucchi: “Oh you poor dears. Here, a nice, warm quilt to warm you both.”

Faun & Grim: “Thank you, Nana Bucchi!”

Nana Bucchi: “You are most welcome, dears. Now, who would like a donut while we wait for the stew to finish?”

Faun, Grim, & Ruggie: “Me~!”

1:00—Eye of the Beholder

Rook: “Bonjour~!”

Faun: “Oh, hi, Rook! What’re you doing here?”

Rook: “I heard from the Rose Chevalier how you and Monsieur Fuzzball were experiencing a chaos-filled morning, and so I wished to check on you both.”

Grim: “That’s puttin’ it lightly.”

Rook: “Oh?”

Faun: “Well, let’s see…I got woken up twice before my alarm clock was supposed to go off and nearly had a heart attack both times. Then Lilia tried to cook us breakfast. Ace sent us flying in a cyclone…again. Then we fell into Jade’s river, got saved by Jack, and then Floyd nearly caused Grim and I to get flash frozen by making it rain while we were standing next to Jack, so we were dropped off at Ruggie’s cottage to warm up and get some medicine—”

Grim: “And lunch!”

Faun: “And of course, lunch. Overall, an average Tuesday.”

Rook: “Oh my. Sounds like quite the adventure!”

Faun: “Yeah. Right now I just want to rela—”

Vil: “Ah, there you are, Rook. I need you to—” *stares* “…Faun. Have you been neglecting your skin care routine again?”

Faun: “……uhhhhh……”

Vil: “Unacceptable! It would seem I need to teach you proper care once more. Mortals must take care of their body and mind, and I will not accept laziness or lack of time as an excuse for not performing self-care. Now come—you as well, Grim. Your fur is in an appalling state.”

Faun: *groans* “Is it too much to ask for a little break?”

Vil: “Faun…”

Faun: “Eep! Moving!”

4:00—Party Over Here~!

Grim: *groaning* “That took three. Whole. Hours! Is the day over yet?”

Faun: “Nope. Not even close…”

Grim: “Ugh…I just wanna take a nap…”

Faun: “Same.” *flops onto couch and lets Grim climb on before starting to set an alarm on phone* “An hour should do the trick.”

The two doze off, sleeping peacefully…

Brr-UUUMMMM!!!

Kalim: *comes flying in on carpet* “Hey, there you guys are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Grim: *clinging to Faun’s face with fur puffed out* “Don’t any of you know how to knock?!”

Kalim: “Oops! Sorry…”

Faun: “…was…was that an elephant just now?”

Kalim: “Oh, yeah! There’s going to be festival tonight and there’s a parade happening, so I thought I’d bring my favorite elephant along to stretch her legs. Say hi!”

Brrrrummm!

Faun: “Kalim…ugh, as much as I love your elephants, this is definitely going to be hard to explain. Do you guys even realize how difficult it’s getting to explain all the weird things and strange people appearing around my house to my neighbors? How am I supposed to explain what an elephant is doing in my yard?”

Kalim: “Hmm…well, you could tell them that the circus is in town?”

Faun: “…I-? Maybe??”

Grim: “Doesn’t that excuse only work on little kids though?”

Kalim: “Oh, right. You got a point there…well, I can take her somewhere else! I just wanted to know if you guys could come to the festival with me? There’s lots of food and games to play!”

Faun: *sighs* “You know what? Sure. Just promise to let us take a nap for an hour and we can go. Okay?”

Kalim: “Okay~!”

End Day

So…yeah, we ended up spending the rest of the evening at a festival and Kalim let us stay in his realm for the night.

[Wow. So that’s why you were so tired this morning!]

“Well duh! You guys are so exhausting to deal with…”

[And this is what you go through every day?]

Well, some days are calmer than others, but generally speaking? Yeah. Though…to be honest, I’d be more worried if a day is too quiet. I’ve gotten so used to having you all stop by and visit me every day that…well, I just can’t imagine not having at least one of you visiting.

[Really?]

Yeah! It’s nice just knowing I have someone checking in on me either in person or via messaging…even if they’re not human, it’s nice knowing you guys care. So…thank you. For being here for me.

Sniffle… [Aww…you’re gonna make me cry. Of course! Even if you don’t always see us, it doesn’t mean we’re not there. In fact…come here!] Click! [Tagging: #heartfeltsincerity #wholesomevibesftw #lovemydisciples5evah aaand…posted and pinned~!]

Huh?! Pinned? You never pin anything to your Magicam.

[Well, I thought I’d make an exception. It’s the least I can do to show my disciples how much I love and care about them, even if I can’t always say it to them.]

Awww…Cater…

“Bleh, when did it get so sappy?”

[Awww, does Grimmy want some hugs too~?]

“Ack! No, stay away! Only my disciples get to hold the Great Grim!! Nooooo-!!!”

Oop, there they go. Well folks, hope you guys enjoyed reading this! Until next ti…huh? Wait…where did this feather come from?

39 notes · View notes

timetravesty · 2 years

Text

Mother’s Day Mayhem

Did I plan to release this on Mother's day? No, but I think it works out well 😌 For @miks2805, sorry this request took so long to come out 💀, but I hope you enjoy some fluffy family time from the Min-Hughes! Also, Happy Mother's Day to every mother out there 👏🥰 Please Enjoy!

Masterlist

Warnings: Syrup 🤷‍♀️

------------------------------------------------------

Clove unlocked the front door, holding a couple bouquets of flowers, a bundle of balloons, and a shopping bag filled with ingredients. At 5:30 AM in the morning, no one should expect to see her awake since Clove thoroughly enjoyed her mornings sleeping in, but today was different.

Today was Mother’s day and Clove was going to be an exceptional young daughter.

As someone with two mothers, Clove figured it meant extra work. So, like the good daughter she was, Clove woke up at 4:50, rolled out of bed, and hopped into her car to go to one of the open grocery stores. She was going to do her best to prepare breakfast, but the biggest problem was that she sucked at cooking.

Even though Poppy woke up at 6:30, Clove wanted to give herself enough time to figure out how to cook. She didn’t think it would be difficult, after all, her moms were wonderful cooks, so it should have been easy peasy.

Yet, setting down the ingredients in the kitchen, Clove took a moment to stare at the items. She had bought everything she needed for homemade pancakes. Flour, eggs, butter, sugar, vanilla extract and of course, syrup, but she didn’t know how to magically combine these ingredients to make an actual pancake.

Fishing in her back pocket, Clove scrolled through her contacts, stopping at the “I” and pressing the name. It rang for a good few seconds before the line finally picked up.

“What the hell, Clove? It’s 5:30 AM.” Erin said through the phone as Clove smiled.

“Good Morning to you too, beautiful.” Erin mumbled a curse, probably turning on the light in her room as Clove went to a nearby cookbook that Bea kept near the stove. She flipped it open, phone against her ear as she heard Erin yawn. Yea, she was an even worse morning person than Clove.

“What do you want?” Erin asked as Clove rolled her eyes.

“What? No, hello to your girlfriend?” The line went silent, before Erin sighed.

“Hello girlfriend.” Erin muttered, probably rolling her eyes as Clove grinned like an idiot.

“So, you know how to cook, right?”

Erin groaned into the phone, a light slapping noise close to the speaker before she picked back up. “Not really, but I can at least boil noodles without burning them.” She said as Clove nodded. WIth how bad she was in the kitchen. Clove didn’t want to test the burning theory.

“Okay, well… could you instruct me on how to make a pancake?”

“Why are you eating at 5:30 AM?” Erin asked as Clove shrugged, grabbing some scissors and opening up the ingredients.

“I want to surprise my moms for mother’s day. Two moms and all.”

“Mother’s day? I thought that was next week.”

“You’re a wonderful daughter Erin.” Clove rolled her eyes sarcastically as Erin huffed into the line.

“You’re on your own MH, I’m going back to bed.”

“Yeesh, you’re an awful morning person.”

“Goodbye Clove.”

“Bye light of my life!” Clove said through the speaker as the line went quiet. She chuckled to herself. Even though they had only been dating for a few months, Erin was still pretty shy with everything. One day, Clove would finally break down the wall, but… baby steps for now.

Grabbing a few measuring cups from a drawer, Clove pulled her phone closer, scrolling to a simple pancake recipe as she hummed under her breath. She had one hour to get this right. One hour to become a good cook.

Measuring the flour carefully, only a few puffs hit the counter as Clove whipped it to the side. Conveniently, a few streaks of flour lined her tanned palm.

“Ohmygosh, I should have just bought some pancakes.”

“Who’s buying pancakes?” A voice echoed behind Clove as she spun on her heel, coming face to face with Bea who was rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Ma? Hi!” Clove tried to use her body to cover the ingredients, but Bea had already peaked over, stretching her long limbs as she looked at her daughter.

“You’re trying to burn the kitchen down on mother’s day, huh?” Walking over, Bea gently set her hand on Clove’s shoulder, pushing her a little away as she surveyed the scene.

“Pancakes? Clove, maybe you should start with something like noodles first.”

“Noodles for breakfast? I think mom would kill me.” Bea nodded, pushing her square glasses higher up.

“She would, your mom has gotten picky lately.”

Clove laughed, subtly bumping Bea’s shoulder as she looked down at her daughter with tired eyes.

“So… you want to help me then? Just a few steps left.”

“Clove, don’t lie to me. You’ve literally only measured the flour.” She glanced down with distaste. “And got a whole half-cup on the floor.”

“I didn’t think it would be that noticeable.” Clove murmured, reaching for the egg carton with a smile. “Sorry Ma, I don’t know how to crack an egg either so…”

Bea rolled her eyes, probably wishing she had stayed in bed instead of venturing into the kitchen. She took the carton, opening it with one hand and reaching in for two eggs. “I’m doing this out of respect to our flooring and the chickens who laid these eggs.” Bea mumbled, reaching in one of the top cabinets for a bowl.

“Great! I’ll get the sugar!” Clove reached for another cup, the same one she used for the flour as Bea gently touched her wrist.

“Clo, don’t get flour in the sugar, yea?” Clove smiled sheepishly, reaching into the drawer and pulling out another measuring cup as Bea quietly cracked the eggs with one hand. Clove stared in wonder, awe, and shock cause she was pretty sure that if Bea hadn’t arrived, Poppy would have crunchy pancakes.

“So, why are you surprising us with pancakes in the morning?” Bea asked, grabbing a fork and whipping the eggs as Clove smiled.

“Cause I’m being a nice daughter for Mother’s day. I don’t see Oli waking up at the crack of dawn?”

“That’s because Oli had a fit all night and he ended up falling asleep on top of Poppy. She’s not going to be happy when she wakes up since she missed her nightly skincare routine.” Bea grabbed the flour, scrolling through Clove’s recipe as she read quietly, Bea definitely wasn’t the best morning person, she was always quiet for a few hours before she went back to normal, so Clove was curious as to why she was up.

“Well, what kept you up Ma? Shouldn’t you be sleeping late?”

“Hmm, just a few work things to handle. I kept Poppy up late too, so you have more time to learn the way of pancake magic.” Clove laughed, watching Bea mix up the ingredients carefully as she crossed her arms.

“Hey, these aren’t my mother’s day pancakes, come over here and stir them.” Bea said, gesturing Clove over as the girl sighed sarcastically.

“But you’re so much better at it Ma.”

“You can learn. Think of it like a dance. Certain steps are performed first for a good end result.”

“That metaphor won’t work very well Ma. I actually like to dance.”

“Then you should have gone with the store-bought pancakes.” Bea shrugged, leaning against the counter as Clove took hold of the whisk. She moved quickly, until a sharp tsk from Bea caused her to slow. The wet and dry ingredients were already mixed together as Clove moved her whole arm slowly around the bowl, forming the pancake batter as Bea yawned from the side.

“Okay, you can go back to bed Ma. I know you’re tired and I did want to surprise you and mom.” Clove stated as Bea sighed, shaking her arms as if they were asleep.

“Not a chance Clo. I don’t want to deal with a burned down kitchen, so I’ll supervise.”

“Boo.”

Bea laughed, reaching for a frying pan and grabbing a stick of butter. She cut some into the pan, placed it on the stove and turned on the fire. It burned bright as Bea rotated it, letting the butter glide around while Clove felt like her arm was falling off.

“Okay, stirred and ready.” She stated a minute later as Bea reached for a ladle hanging on one of the racks in the kitchen. She took the bowl of batter, stirring it with the ladle, dipping it in and pouring a small bit of batter in the pan.

“Okay, I’ll show you the first one, but you’re doing the rest. I gotta check on Oli.” Clove nodded, listening intently to the instructions Bea gave carefully until a perfectly round pancake sat in the pan. Bea moved the pan, plating the food and smiling at Clove.

“Your turn now.” Clove moved to stand in front of the stove, following Bea’s gentle instructions as she poured batter into the pan.

“It’s… something.” Bea smiled as Clove’s “pancake” looked alot more like a square.

“It’s my first time!” Clove complained softly as Bea nodded, watching Clove continue her attempt at a pancake. Five minutes later, Clove plated the… food as Bea held back a laugh. It certainly looked different and not very edible, but it would be fine.

“Okay, I’ve got in now. Thanks Ma.”

“Sure Love, don’t burn down the kitchen, yea?” Bea pressed a kiss to her temple, walking off as Clove attempted her second pancake, tongue sticking out as she concentrated.

Almost thirty minutes later, Clove had used all the batter. She flicked off the stove and reached for the plate of pancakes, frowning at the awkward shapes of them as she grabbed the syrup she bought. Spinning the plate just a little to drizzle it over the cakes, Clove placed it on a nearby tray, already decorated with fruits and other toppings, along with a flower in a small vase.

For an awful cook, she didn’t do too bad. Though, she definitely wouldn't be winning any competitions anytime soon. Carrying the tray, a bouquet of flowers and the atrocious balloons she bought, Clove made her way upstairs.

When she reached her mothers’ door, it was conveniently half open, letting Clove gently ease it open with a smile when she saw Bea sitting on the bed, Oliver in her arms while Poppy leaned against the headboard. The two women snapped at attention when Clove entered with her loud balloons as Clove grinned.

“Happy Mother’s day!” She yelled before breaking into a whisper when Bea gestured down at Oli in her arms. “Breakfast in bed from your one and only daughter.” She smiled, moving into the room and up to Poppy. Poppy smiled at her daughter, though frowned at the tacky balloons as Clove maneuvered herself to press a kiss to Poppy’s cheek.

“This is certainly an upgrade from last year…” Poppy mumbled as Clove set the tray in front of Poppy. She grimaced at the memory of last Mother’s day, involving an attempt at songwriting and the performance at one of Poppy’s charity balls she had hosted. Needless to say, it was entertaining but not the best performance of her life.

“I’ve been practicing. Ma, can I borrow your guitar?” Bea shook her head violently as if she were having flashbacks. Poppy laughed, looking down at the plate in front of her and smiling up at Clove. Even in the early morning, Poppy was still flawless.

“Thank you Clove. Though, I’m sure you didn’t complete this all yourself.” Poppy said, staring curiously at the interesting pancakes and the one that Bea had made sitting on the top. Clove had placed it there to try and hide the fact that her pancakes had turned out a little freaky.

“Who said I had help?” Clove asked, taking a seat at the edge of the bed as Poppy grabbed the knife Clove had brought. She cut into the pancake, making small bites as she glanced over at Bea who was almost dozing off with Oliver in her arms.

“So Bea didn’t leave at 5:40 AM to help you make pancakes? I’m surprised you didn’t burn the kitchen down, Love.” Poppy took a bite out of the pancake, nodding to herself as Clove reached for a strawberry on the plate.

“Okay, yes. I’m a bad cook, I get it.” Clove smiled, popping the berry in her mouth as Bea stirred awake.

“I’m awake.” Bea said as Oli bumped her on the chin with his tiny fist. Poppy chuckled, smiling over at Clove who slid off the bed, walking over to Bea’s side and taking Oliver from her mother. She held her baby brother, rocking him slowly as Bea stretched like a cat once more.

“Hey kiddo, the pancakes look great!” Bea smiled as Poppy cut her a piece, feeding it to Bea who munched it happily. “Perfect job princess.”

“I had a good helper.” Clove smiled as Poppy looked over at her daughter.

“Really Clove, thank you for this surprise.” Poppy said, looking away a second later as Bea peered up at her wife. Bea was casually laying on her stomach as Poppy cut into her pancake.

“Are you-” Poppy gave Bea a warning glare, silencing her wife with a stare as Bea chuckled. Bea looked over at Clove, smiling brilliantly as she mouthed some words to Clove.

Looking at Poppy, Clove could see the faint ghost of tears as she smiled. Yea, sappy gestures equaled a sappy Poppy. Especially when they came from a Hughes, er, part Hughes.

Clove moved to set Oliver down in his crib, moving back over to the bed where Poppy was cutting into the pancakes, mostly feeding Bea who looked ready to fall back asleep. Clove took the bouquet of flowers and presented them to both Poppy and Bea, smiling wide as her mothers grinned. Poppy looked even more teary eyed as she nodded. Taking the flowers, Poppy pulled Clove into a side hug, kissing her cheek as Clove smiled. She was probably trying to hold back tears as Bea was only grinning happily. Clove hugged her back just as tight, smiling at her moms.

“Happy Mother’s day.”

#poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #mybeahughes #queen b choices #request #clove min hughes #erin mcdermot

41 notes · View notes

snelbz · 3 years

Text

Life As We Know It {Chapter 21}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Before Nesta even opened her eyes, she knew that she’d gotten some of the best sleep she’d had in months. She knew it was early, since Nyx hadn’t even woken them up for his morning bottle yet. Sighing comfortably, she settled deeper into her pillows, the weight of a heavy arm slung over her waist, pulling her in close.

With sudden clarity, she remembered the events of the night before. She remembered the damn kiss that had started it all. She remembered the orgasms Cassian had given her over and over. She remembered seeing something shining in his eyes that had nothing to do with lust or sex.

She was sure it was reflected in her own, but couldn’t work up the nerve to let herself think about what they’d done last night, what it may have implied. What lines they may have crossed.

And the fact that she really didn’t give a damn.

Nesta couldn’t remember the last time she was this happy, and as much as she tried to pretend it wasn’t thanks to the man sleeping soundly behind her, in her bed, she couldn’t lie to herself.

So she gently rolled over, careful not to wake him, and took in his sleeping face.

It was kind of funny.

Nesta had known Cassian for a while, for five years, and before that in passing, considering Feyre and Rhysand’s relationship. She had watched him age, had watched him grow from a young man into the man that had taken her the night before, but looking at him now…

There was an innocence about him when he slept.

He snored, quietly, completely unaware that she was awake, that she was watching him.

He was cute.

So, so cute.

If he awoke at that very moment and saw her watching him sleep, she would have surely been mortified, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, she couldn’t look away.

Memories from the night before flashed through her mind, and it only made her that much happier. She couldn’t remember the last time she had fallen asleep in a man’s arms, but with Cassian, she had fallen asleep peacefully, nearly instantly, and slept amazingly.

There was something about Cassian that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but she knew that she liked it.

She dared to gently brush a kiss over his cheek, before carefully climbing out of bed, his heavy arm making that a much harder endeavor than she was expecting. But he slept on soundly, not even stirring as she slipped from beneath the sheets and hurried into her closet. She wasn’t embarrassed by her nakedness, not after everything that had happened last night, but she knew that if he caught her naked, they were likely to take far longer getting downstairs to start their morning.

Not that she would have minded, but she was pretty sure neglecting Nyx was not a good enough reason for sex.

No, she’d enjoy him again later, as thoroughly as he’d enjoyed her last night, if he was willing. And she had no doubt that he would be.

Tying her robe around her waist, Nesta slipped from the closet into her room, glancing to make sure Cassian was still fast asleep. His snore confirmed he was.

Her chuckle was quiet as she entered the hall, sneaking down a few doors and opening Nyx’s. He was still asleep, as well, and with a smile, Nesta cracked his door and quietly padded down the stairs.

The kitchen was still a mess, his half-smashed cake on the counter and their clothes strewn around the room. Blushing, she picked them up one by one and tossed them into the laundry room, before making Nyx a bottle and starting on some scrambled eggs for his breakfast.

She could hardly focus. She was constantly thinking about the man upstairs, still sleeping soundly in her bed. Mixing a little cheese into the eggs, she stirred the eggs up in the pan before dumping them directly onto Nyx’s high chair tray.

Last time they’d slept together, Cassian had made her breakfast and then they’d both agreed it would never happen again. Regardless of the fact that it very much had happened again, Nesta didn’t like the sinking feeling she felt in her heart when she thought about having to agree to that once more.

Staring at the ingredients she’d pulled out of the fridge, Nesta sighed and braced her hands on the counter in front of her.

She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that she had feelings for Cassian anymore. At some point, he’d gone from being a pain in her ass to the favorite part of her day. And that terrified her.

Letting him continue to sleep, she crept upstairs and gently woke Nyx up before he could start screaming, and carried him down to the kitchen, his sleepy head resting on her shoulder. He rubbed his eyes as she put him in his high chair, handing him the bottle, and she started working on their breakfast.

The entire time he ate, Nyx watched Nesta curiously, as if he knew something was up.

Maybe it was just her paranoia. Then again, he was Feyre and Rhysand’s kid and they were always snooping into Cassian and Nesta’s business.

Feyre and Rhysand.

Nesta bet they were pretty damn proud of themselves at the moment.

She heard him moving around upstairs and her heart began to beat a little bit faster. This was it, the moment of truth.

She cursed, all the while Nyx kept watching her as he stuffed his mouth with scrambled eggs.

Making herself busy at the stove, she quickly dropped some bacon into the hot skillet, sizzling filling the kitchen. Within seconds, a few pieces of bread were in the toaster, and she was rummaging through the refrigerator for the blackberry jam she knew he preferred.

Nyx’s babbling announced his arrival, and she turned to find Cassian standing behind his high chair, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips. He picked up a small clump of eggs and popped it into his mouth, and Nyx angrily began talking at him, though the made up words were unintelligible.

“He doesn’t like to share,” she said, closing the fridge door with a hip.

Cassian grinned. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. I worked up an appetite last night.”

Nesta’s cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “Is that so?”

Cassian nodded and walked toward her, slowly. Nesta remained still until he was standing just in front of her. “I have to confess that I was hoping you’d be there when I woke up this morning.”

Nesta stepped closer to him. “Breakfast and the baby called.”

Cassian scoffed and muttered, “Priorities.”

Nesta laughed quietly, but the sound was muffled by Cassian’s lips against hers.

It was almost instinct to lean into him, to smile against his lips. When she pulled back just a hair, his hazel eyes were bright. She whispered, “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he breathed, his mouth still so close to hers.

She blushed, even though she couldn’t figure out why and turned to the stove. “I…wasn’t sure what to expect this morning.”

Cassian hesitated. “What did you think I’d do?”

Nesta sighed, scratching her head. “I don’t know. I thought you might act like it never happened. Or, you’d say it was only a one time thing like last time.”

Cassian cocked his head to the side. “Last time I didn’t sleep in your bed.”

“And that changes things?” Nesta asked, quietly.

“Last night changed things,” Cassian replied, brushing her hair back out of her face. “At least, for me it did.”

“Me too,” Nesta replied, without any hesitation.

Cassian’s eyes softened. “Nesta, I-.”

“NANANANANANANANA!”

They both spun around, where Nyx was watching them with the most precious of pissed off expressions. His tray was empty, practically licked clean, and Nyx was not having it.

Cassian chuckled as he took a banana out of the fruit basket and peeled it before cutting it up into slices. “He’s awfully full of it this morning, isn’t he?”

“I think he knows,” she said, rolling her eyes as she flipped the bacon. “Not specifically what happened, but he knows something is…different between us.”

He paused his cutting and turned back to her, pausing with a hip resting on the counter. “Good different or bad different?”

“Good different,” she said, smiling. She cracked a few eggs into a bowl and mixed them up with some milk. “Definitely good different.”

For a moment, Cassian didn’t say anything, but when she turned he was grinning. “Really good different?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Shut up.” She turned back around. “But yes.”

“Good,” he breathed, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “What’ve you got going on today?”

“Work,” she said. “Seeing how the bar renovation is going. Looks like you’ll have to hire your replacement soon with how quickly everything is moving.”

Cassian groaned. “That’s the part I’m looking towards the least. I hate interviews. I hate being in them, I hate giving them, they’re awful.”

“But the sooner you give them, the sooner you leave that bar and come work at mine,” she crooned.

“Yours?” he repeated, offended.

Nesta snorted. “Ours.”

He and Kallias had both given their notice to the owner of the dive bar they worked in. He wasn’t thrilled, but he had always been a gruff bastard. He’d informed Cassian he wasn’t going anywhere until he’d hired not only his replacement, but Kal’s, as well.

“Speaking of,” he sighed, glancing at the clock. “I’ve got one scheduled for eleven-thirty. What time are you going to the restaurant?”

She poured the egg mixture into the skillet she’d cooked the crispy bacon in moments before and began laying the bacon on the toast she’d made. “Whenever,” she shrugged. “Helion is opening today. What time can Viviane be here?”

“Ten. I’m not working a shift today, so after the interview I can either come back here and give her the rest of the day off, or I can come to the restaurant.”

Nesta chewed slowly as she thought about it. “I wouldn’t mind if you came to the restaurant.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do,” Cassian said, placing the cut-up banana in front of a cranky Nyx. “And you, little man, better be good for Viv today. Because you’re grumpy.”

In response, Nyx spit out the piece of banana he had put in his mouth and smushed up the rest on his tray.

After scarfing down the breakfast that Nesta had made, and making a show of thanking her for it, Cassian was cleaning up the kitchen then hurrying upstairs to shower. Nesta was left cleaning up a fussy, banana-covered Nyx.

“I don’t even think you wanted to eat the banana, kiddo,” she muttered, cleaning off his tray, before wiping him down with an ungodly amount of baby wipes. “I think it was just to play in.”

He had plenty to say about that, just nothing Nesta could understand.

A few minutes later, freshly showered and dressed Cassian came downstairs, where Nyx was playing on the living room floor. She was up the stairs a minute later, hurrying to take her own shower. After an hour, she returned, purse and keys in hand. “I’m going to go ahead and head to the restaurant. I’ll see you in a little while?”

He nodded and as she made for the door, Cassian stood, catching her by the elbow and tugging her back to him. She stumbled a step, but he crushed her to his chest and pressed a kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, they were both grinning like fools. “I’ll see you in a little while,” he repeated.

“Okay.” She was backing towards the door, that smile looking like it was a permanent fixture on her face, before slipping out and leaving he and Nyx alone.

Who was watching him again, looking so much like Rhysand with that little eyebrow raised.

Cassian couldn’t help but snort and say, “This is your fault you know.”

A few hours later, right after Nyx had gone down for his mid- morning nap, Cassian heard a knock on the front door. Opening the door, Viviane rushed in. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said, shaking her head.

Cass glanced at the clock on the mantle. “It’s barely ten-fifteen,” he chuckled. “No big deal, you’re fine.”

She nodded. “Sorry, just— It’s been a crazy morning.”

“Everything okay?” Cassian asked. Viv was usually steady, so sure of everything she did or said.

“Yeah,” she replied, waving off his question. “I’m fine. Ran into my ex at the coffee shop and— Ugh, ignore me. Don’t worry about it. Is Nyx down for his nap?”

“Yeah, he’s been out for about fifteen minutes. He had a pretty big breakfast, so I doubt he’ll be too hungry when he wakes up.” Cassian gnawed on his lip for a second debating on whether he should ask what was on his mind. After considering how well throwing caution to this wind has worked for him last night, he decided why the hell not. “Does that mean you’re single? Since you bumped into your ex?”

Viviane froze and blinked. “Yes, but I don’t date my employers—”

“No, no,” he quickly said, holding his hands out in placation. “It’s not me. It’s a friend of mine and I think you two might hit it off.”

Viviane raised a brow. “A friend, huh?”

“Guy I’ve worked with for years,” Cassian went on. “Great guy, in fact. You’ll enjoy yourself, guaranteed.”

“Guaranteed?” Viviane chuckled. “Well, I can’t say no to that, can I?”

Cassian grinned. “No, you can’t, and neither can he. Tomorrow night, you free?”

“I suppose I am, if my boss is giving me the night off,” she laughed.

“He is, and it’ll be great, we’ll all go out,” Cassian said. “You and Kal, and me and Nesta.”

“Kal,” she said, the shortened name rolling off her tongue. “Yeah, alright. That sounds fun.”

“Perfect,” Cassian said, patting her on the shoulder as he swept past her. “I’ve got to get going, but we should be home around five or so. Call if you need anything.”

Viviane chuckled. “You say that every time, and have I ever called?”

“It’s a habit!” he called, as he hurried out the door.

When he got to the bar, Kallias had everything under control, which meant Cassian was taking a table in the far corner, waiting for his interviewee to arrive.

Sadly, this wasn’t the interview to replace his own job. That was proving to be far more tedious than he was expecting. But an hour later, after shaking the young man’s hand, Cassian let out a sigh of relief as he left.

“And how’d that go?” Kallias asked, wiping down a few glasses that were drying atop the bar.

“Well, your position is officially filled,” he replied, sitting across from him at the bar. “So congratulations.”

“Cheers,” he chuckled, raising the empty glass towards Cassian. “When are we celebrating?”

“Tomorrow night, actually,” Cassian said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kal snorted. “Seriously? I was kidding.”

“I’m not,” Cassian replied, shrugging. “We’re going out tomorrow night. You, me, Nesta, and Viviane.”

Kallias blinked. “The hot nanny?”

Cassian grinned. “Yeah.”

Kallias looked at Cassian suspiciously. “I thought you were kidding when you said you were setting us up.”

“Oh, I never kid about love,” Cassian said, winking.

Kallias raised a brow. “Love? Who the hell are you?”

Cassian filled his glass and took a gulp of beer. “Just meet us at Rita’s at eight tomorrow.”

Kallilas continued to stare at him for a long while. “You slept with her again, didn’t you?”

Cassian’s grin widened. “Tomorrow. Rita’s. Eight.”

And with that, he chugged his beer and left.

The next night, Cassian and Nesta dropped Nyx off at Elain’s before making their way to Rita’s.

“Our first date,” Cassian crooned, reaching his hand across the car to Nesta’s.

She took it fondly. “Our first date? After all we’ve been through, do we even qualify for a first date?”

“Why?” Cassian scoffed. “Just because we’ve been sleeping together and living with each other and raising a kid together?” He snorted. “Of course, we deserve a first date.”

Nesta rolled her eyes but did not protest.

Cassian had slept in her bed last night after another night of lovemaking. Even though it didn’t seem possible, it got better with each time. The more they got to know each other’s bodies, the more familiar with one another they became, the more they became one in intimacy, the more amazing it was.

“You look amazing tonight,” Cassian said, quietly. “In case I haven’t told you that yet tonight.”

He had.

Multiple times.

But, Nesta couldn’t blame him. She did look amazing in her navy blue dress and her blush heels. She looked over at Cassian, in his jeans and button down shirt.

Coincidentally, it wasn’t much different than what he had worn on their actual first date five years before. She chuckled, and he looked over at her, brow raised.

“This is actually our second date,” she said.

Cassian shook his head, amused, before looking back out the window as he turned into the parking lot. “Well, hopefully this date goes better than that one did.”

Nesta agreed.

As soon as Cassian opened Nesta’s door, they spotted Viviane pulling into the parking lot. They knew she was a pretty girl, but she usually showed up to work with a ponytail, jeans, and a t-shirt. Now, she had really dressed to impress.

Cassian whistled as she got out of her car and Vivane blushed as Nesta’ jabbed him in the ribs.

“You look beautiful,” Nesta told Vivane.

“Thanks,” she said, and Nesta could tell the nanny was a little nervous, a little uncomfortable.

“I see Kal’s truck,” Cassian said, gesturing for the women to follow. “I guess he’s already inside.”

Indeed he was and he’d already gotten a table for the four of them and was working on a pitcher of a beer.

“Hey, man,” Cassian greeted him as Kallias stood and shook his hand. “This is Nesta,” he said, placing a hand on her back.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, reaching for his hand as well. They shook hands and Kallias smiled.

“You, too,” he replied. “I guess I should call you boss now, huh?”

“No, no, no,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Please don’t.”

“And this,” Cassian interrupted, rolling his eyes at the two of them, “is Viviane.”

As if he somehow hadn’t noticed the blond beauty behind Cassian until this moment, Kallias looked up at her and blinked. He was about to make some sort of hot nanny joke when Kallias breathed, “Viv?”

She was looking at him with the same dumbfounded look Kallias had on his face. “Kallias… Hey.”

Cassian and Nesta looked between the two, then at each other, and after a moment, Nesta asked, “You two know each other?”

Kallias still looked like he was trying to figure out what planet he was on, so Viviane answered, “We were…childhood friends. But my family moved to Velaris when I started middle school.” She shook her head, but she had been looking at Kallias the whole time. “I had no idea you were in Velaris.”

He finally remembered to speak, though Cassian was beginning to wonder if he’d need to answer for him. “I came out here for college. Loved the city and decided to stay.”

“College?” Viviane repeated. “You’re telling me that you’ve been here since your freshman year, and you’ve never called?”

Kallias chuckled. “I didn’t even know you still lived here!”

“Hmm,” Viviane said, taking a seat across from him. “Well, what a small world, hmm?”

“Yeah,” Kallias repeated, “small world.”

Cassian took a seat by Kallias and Nesta sat across from them as they went a little bit more in depth into their long lost friendship. Apparently they had grown up in the same neighborhood and had always gone to the same elementary school. Kallias was a year older than Viviane, but when he went into the seventh grade and Viviane was going into sixth, her family moved to Velaris for her father’s work.

They had never talked again after that. Their friendship was nothing more than a simple, joyful memory.

Seeing them now, Nesta thought, she just knew the two of them had gotten into trouble when they were little. Between their jokes and sly looks at one another, and the obvious chemistry, they had surely been up to no good and gave both sets of parents a run for their money.

“I’m going to the bar,” Cassian announced, looking at Nesta. “Care to join?”

Nesta had a feeling that it was less about going to the bar and more about giving the newfound couple beside them a few minutes alone. She nodded, and took his hand as they walked toward the bar on the other side of the room.

“They’re cute together,” Nesta said, sitting on a barstool.

Cassian sat on the one next to her. “Oh, I know. You know, I’ve gotta say, I feel pretty damn accomplished right now. I definitely made this happen.”

Nesta couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him, even as she leaned into his embrace. She wanted nothing more than to poke fun at him, to mess with him about his unexpected matchmaking skills, but as she looked at the two happy people laughing at the table across the bar, she couldn’t help but wonder if that’s the gift that Rhysand and Feyre had tried to give them all those years ago.

Even now, Nesta’s chest tightened as she smiled, so thankful for her meddling, baby sister.

#snacmc lawki #life as we know it #lawki #snacmc collabs #snelbz tacmc collab #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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danpuff-ao3 · 2 years

Text

Flaws in Fiction:✨Magic Edition✨

"If there's magic, why not [insert literally anything here]?"

Because it's boring!

Also...not very realistic.

(...she said about MAGIC. Yes, yes, I know, but c'mon, just open your mind a little.)

[TOTALLY GENIUS Danni Thoughts below the cut]

Nothing is perfect. Nothing on this earth is perfect. Not even carrot cake, which is perfect in my heart.

So why should magic be?

Why should magic fix every single problem? If you want it to, sure, have at it! If you want to wave your wand and solve all problems, go for it!

My interests, however, lie in flawed magic. Or, I suppose, flawed people wielding magic.

"If there's magic, why does Harry Potter wear glasses?" I don't know. Maybe there's no spell to correct vision. Or maybe there is, but it's so precise and complicated that few people can perform said spell. Maybe it's too risky and the benefits don't outweigh the potential consequences. Like, sure, this spell can correct your vision if I do it right. But what if I screw up? One little waver in the wand movement and your head falls off!

Even with simple things. "If there's magic, why this or why that?"

Well, magic is a skill. But not all magic is the same. Performing an Unforgivable Curse is different from household charms. You could be better at one than the other. Imagine performing a killer Avada (ba-dum-tsst) but your dishwashing charms never pan out? (If no one is going to pat me on the back for these puns, I'm going to pat myself on the back.)

For example: in real, non-magical life, I'm an excellent baker! Not such a great cook. In fact, an awful cook. I can make scrambled eggs most of the time, but that's about it.

These skills seem similar enough, so why am I good at one and not the other? GOOD QUESTION. I have no idea. Instead of answering, let me bake you some banana bread, okay?

Answering questions directly and intelligibly? Not a skill I have. Puns, though? Those I can do in excess.

Magic can't bring back the dead. And it can't create food out of thin air. Magic has its limits, clearly. And so do people.

In fanfiction, I love seeing magical theory explored a little more and seeing where the limits of magic are, according to each creator. Seeing what might be possible, but no one's attempted yet. Or there have been attempts, but none have succeeded yet.

In fanfiction, I love seeing what areas of magic characters struggle with. Are they bad at Apparating? Do they never Apparate because they splinch themselves every single time?

What if they can't Floo because they have an allergy to Floo powder?

Do they struggle with Transfiguration but, through hard work and dedication, finally manage to turn that book into a llama?

Or, does the hard work not pay off, because it's just an area they plain struggle in? Try as they might, maybe they'll never brew a perfect Dreamless Sleep. Why buy potions when you can make them? Because you have the money to not accidentally poison yourself, of course!

How about...spells the character is generally pretty good at, until suddenly...they're too tired to perform them. Or too angry. Or too depressed. Or maybe they're having an off day. No one does things amazingly all the time, even skills they're generally good at. Sometimes you just screw up! Same with magic.

Or even...what if there is a magical solution, but the non-magical solution is better? Easier doesn't always equate to better, you know! Baking cakes from scratch are usually yummier than box mix, after all. So maybe they can cook with magic, but it's just not as delicious as non-magical cooking!

It might seem silly that magic can't solve seemingly simple problems, but what about life is really so simple or so easy? And isn't it more fun exploring what magic can't do than what it can do?

So, if you want to wave a wand and fix Harry Potter's eyesight, have at it!

As for me...I like to think that maybe his head will fall off if they try, so he'd rather just keep his glasses, thanks.

#flaws in fiction #magic edition!#magical theory #magic systems #harry potter #fanfiction #danpuff stuff #these are just my preferences okay?#read and write what you like!#this just happens to be what i like #and i like it a lot

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

Text

ataraxia. - ch. 4 [ diluc x reader ]

ch. 4 - adjustment pairing: diluc x gn!reader warnings: mention of injuries, mentions of murder, mentions of familial passing. not beta read. words: ~2.2k words fic masterlist [ prev ] - [ next ]

chapter summary: you're not used to company and diluc is awkward. but hey, things are beginning to become normal, right?

a/n: mmm. slow burn. begrudging allies. not much happens in this chapter, but i promise things will speed up soon. :)

for the four days diluc is bedridden, two of which he is able to actually walk around miniscule amounts, the rocking chair in the guest room becomes your dining chair and your lap serves as your dinner table. sure, it's slightly messy, but even diluc, who you can tell likely isn't the one for conversation normally, enjoys your company. despite the walls he puts up, he is still able to hold a conversation.

however, for all the information you reveal about yourself, you learn little about diluc. when you talk about your farm, he's more knowledgeable than the average townsperson, which leads you to believe he grew up near agriculture. however, his formal method of speaking steers you away from such conclusions, unable to pinpoint where exactly the overlap between a farming background and a background of what seems to be an elite overlap.

you are mostly the one talking to him. it doesn't take a genius to realize that he isn't a fan of small talk and would rather just sit in silence, but you wish to know exactly who is taking up the spare bedroom in your house. like a hardboiled egg, diluc fails to crack upon the impact of your words. instead, he expertly maneuvers his way out of any question you might throw at him.

if only he could have maneuvered his way out of the fatui, you think bitterly, irritated with the entire situation at hand. if diluc hadn't gotten himself injured, then you wouldn't be the one dealing with a guilty conscience if you threw him out. curse your parents for instilling basic human morals in you.

however, apart from dropping off books, accompanying him to the bathroom (where you wait outside respectfully, of course), and serving him breakfast and lunch, you don't interact with diluc very often. you find that he's easy to ignore.

once he starts walking, of course, that's a different story. the redhead is tall and his hair is a brilliant vermillion. it sticks out against the soft green grasses like a sore thumb and shines in the light. even in the comfort of your cottage, it stands out against the dull decor, fading paint, and worn furniture. diluc's crutches click against the floor with each step he takes and his presence is no longer quiet.

he's the type to always stay moving, even if his body says otherwise.

once he's comfortable with walking again, diluc interrupts you as you start making dinner. despite sharing the same house, the two of you scarcely speak with nor acknowledge each other out of meal times, so the sudden noise of his voice causes you to jolt in shock.

"may i help you cook?" diluc asks. after you get over your initial scare, you realize that his words didn't sound like much of a question. the words are more of a formality than anything and you realize that he will not let this go until you say yes. which, of course, you don't, because you're not allowed to let some stranger come into your house and order you around, even if it would ease your workload.

"go sit back down," you urge and you hear diluc sigh as he realizes that you aren't going to budge either. despite your order, he lingers, the corners of his lips twitching with annoyance. of course he's not going to budge either, you think. asshole.

so, in response to his stubbornness, you decide to throw it back in his face.

"are you saying my cooking is bad?" you challenge and diluc's eyes widen as his uninjured foot shifts backwards slightly. despite his balancing act on crutches, diluc still manages to take a step back at your challenging tone.

"what? no. i'm not," diluc backtracks his words and you feel slightly bad at the way he sounds on edge, but you weren't about to have this borderline stranger interrupt your cooking when he needed to rest.

"then go sit down." you say and diluc, surprisingly, folds and walks over to the dining table where he once lay just a few days ago. you glance over as he sits down in a chair and he stares at you, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in the chair. you pause your cooking and stare back. unlike usual, diluc is the one to break the silence.

"why did you save me?" diluc's question is abrupt. you swirl the wooden spoon in the pot in front of you while attempting to think of an answer.

"dead bodies are a pain to deal with," you respond as you take the spoon out of the dish and tap it on the side to remove any excess liquid. diluc lets out a soft huff of amusement at your words, yet that fails to ease the current resentment you hold towards him.

"is that all?" diluc asks. you look over at him once more with raised eyebrows as you drop the spoon into the small pile of the day's dirty dishes.

"do you not believe me?" you say, yet your voice lacks the embittered tone from earlier. you can't blame diluc if he doesn't. you barely believe anything he says to begin with.

"i am just curious as to your answer," diluc says. you can tell it pains him to watch you prepare dinner without any assistance from him whatsoever, yet he can leave his heroics for another time.

if you were being honest, you didn't quite know the answer to his question yourself. sure, you could pull a half-baked lie out of your ass about how you could 'never let someone suffer' if you saw them in the condition he had been in. it would be honorable to have such notions, but you had never been the type to play hero. after life had handed you such an awful fate, you could take what semblance of normalcy you could get.

and yet, you had thrown it all away on a rainy day to save a man you had never interacted with before. you had thrown away your safety. if the fatui were to find the two of you, your throat would be slashed and your body would never be found. you would die not the death of a hero, but the death of a fool.

you look back down at the pot of food in front of you, watching as the soup boils and bubbles within. why had you saved diluc? on that fateful stormy day, why had your roughened heart softened to let in a man who seemed to be more trouble than he was worth? you weren't honorable. you would never be. you couldn't be.

the timer you had set earlier, mechanically ticking away next to the heated pot, dings, signaling the dish's completion. it snaps you out of your thoughts and you blink as you remember where you are. wordlessly, you extinguish the fire that fuels the stove and take a step back, allowing the soup to cool.

"when i find the answer," you say slowly, voice far softer. "i'll be sure to let you know."

---

the air has a light breeze to it, making the typical morning chill just a bit fiercer than usual. you slip on a coat for that reason and depart your bedroom. you glance at the closed door to the spare room. by now, it was no longer an extra bedroom. rather, diluc would be its sole occupier for the next several months.

today marks ten days since diluc made his rather unceremonious arrival to your doorstep. it also marks the first day since the two of you came to an agreement about diluc's living situation for the foreseeable future. you had agreed, like a damned fool, to let him stay for the next several months. worst of all, you had offered.

the conversation had been short. the redhead had offered to pay rent. you declined. the redhead then insisted on paying rent. you declined once more, albeit more harshly. the two of you came to a begrudging agreement. you wanted nothing in return, while diluc wanted to reward your hospitality. therefore, you two had decided that diluc would pay for groceries

you provided him with the ideal hiding place. a worn down little farm was no fit for a man of his status. you still weren't sure who he was, but claymore wielders weren't exactly those born into unaffluent conditions. it was a peculiar choice of weapon, therefore typically only used by those who could afford both the training and the heaping chunks of metal that claymores required.

plus, his manners were impeccable, aside from his insistence on trying to repay his weird debt to you or whatever he told himself. to you, diluc owed you nothing. as long as you made it out of this situation alive, you wouldn't care. and if you didn't live? who cares? you would be dead.

it's not like there was anyone to cry over the death of the little isolated farmer in the fields of fontaine.

you snap out of your daze as diluc's door creeps open. he wears the only spare outfit you had that would fit him. an old, blank white shirt. he wears the pants he arrived in, albeit with the leg cropped severely on one side to accommodate for his cast that now traverses the entire expanse of his leg.

it's rather ugly, if you say so yourself.

"i'll pick you up clothes the next time i head to the market," you blurt and diluc stares at you, still half-asleep and struggling to comprehend your words.

"good morning to you too," he responds, completely unenthused. you stare unapologetically at him. you probably should have greeted him, yet it's too late to backtrack.

"there's food in the pantry," you tell him, before walking to the hall closet and taking out your worn work boots. "i will be off the premises today. if somebody finds you, you're the only one that lives here. got it?"

diluc nods and you walk down the hall, entering the kitchen once more. you sit down at the dining table, perched sideways on one of its chairs and shimmy on your shoes. diluc follows after you and hovers, watching from the hallway entrance as you get ready to leave.

diluc parts his lips as if he wants to say something, yet can't figure out the words. you let out a sigh as you decide to indulge him, even though you don't really care about whatever he has to say to you. if it was important, he would say it.

"what?" you ask, standing up and smoothing out the fabric of your pants.

"could i request something additional from the grocery?" diluc asks and you look at him blankly.

"you're the one paying for the groceries," you remind him. "so, uh, yeah."

diluc glances away from you, cheeks flushing slightly. "i would appreciate if you could pick up some grape juice."

"grape juice?" you ask, slowly. an odd request from a man who is ripped to the high heavens, yet you have realized that diluc himself is an odd man. stoic and reserved, yet odd nonetheless. "sure. got a brand preference?"

diluc's vermillion gaze snaps upward to meet your eyes, who look at him with absolute disinterest. somehow, this seems to calm his slight embarrassment at asking for such a childish beverage.

"dawn winery, if they sell it," diluc responds before glancing over once more.

"dawn winery?" you echo and diluc looks slightly nervous at your interrogation. "isn't that like... super expensive?"

"oh," diluc responds. "i can afford it."

you stare at him. maybe you should have charged him rent if he can afford that overpriced, not very good grape juice.

"got it," you confirm, still slightly weirded out by his awkwardness over the whole thing. "anything else?" you shuffle over to the doorway and glance back over your shoulder, patting your coat pocket to ensure the bag of mora was tucked in your pocket.

diluc clears his throat.

"return safe, okay?" his order is softly spoken. you nod.

"i'll try," you say and slip out of the door. it was just a simple grocery run. if anything was going to threaten your safety, it would be staying in the house with diluc. after all, the fatui couldn't accuse you of anything if you weren't caught in the house alongside him.

for a man who had multiple broken bones, diluc was rather worried about people that weren't him. you didn't quite understand it but, despite the way his righteousness and self-sacrificial attitude bothered you, you found yourself admiring it. such a personality would result in statues being made of him, should his heroism actually be vocalized.

yet somehow, the honorable prince that diluc was a few steps (and non-broken bones) was somehow relying on the humble farmer for survival. you only hope it won't bite him in the ass.

but, most of all, you only hope that you won't grow attached.

tag list (send an ask to be added!): @quixoticmirror @fishyfish-y @just-some-stars @karlitaburrito @lotsoffandomstoimagine @zhowongli @yakus-yakult @beanst0ck @nonniechan

#diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc #genshin impact #//ataraxia #axia's writing

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linksthoughtbrambles · 2 years

Text

Like a hundred-pound draw.

Part 47 of Link's Thought Brambles

“Those two get along handsomely.”

They really do. They both sure like the fudge. Trading bites of all the different kinds. Zelda’s surprisingly good with Chee. And it gives me a chance to give mom a gentle slow dance. I’m guessing everyone else is afraid to touch Sir Lyle’s wife with a ten-foot pole. Not that I think her feelings are hurt, but sitting on a hard seat all evening isn't pleasant.

“It’s helping your sister feel better.”

“…Hhh. Yeah.”

“Now, Link, tell me truthfully. How foul has your language become since you got here?”

“Aw, mom-“

“Pff- hh hh hh- honestly, Link, you’re a grown man, and I’ve little right to criticize your speech. But did you have to let that out around Chee? She’ll certainly use it as an excuse to let it out her own mouth.”

“I was surprised.” Who knows what the hell Robbie’s seeing with those weird goggles, though. For all I know, he can see me ALL the time. That’s a nightmare-inducing thought.

“I’ll keep a list. Each time she says it at home, it gets added and sent with your next letter. Then you can see the consequences of your actions.”

“Ehh. It won’t be that bad. She’ll curse at the cuccos and Linda, that’s all.”

“And neither of them will deserve it. That poor cow. Your sister’s not as considerate of her as you.”

“She’ll get there, she just doesn’t have the patience yet. Are you doing any of the milking or just Chee?”

“Mostly Chee. Sometimes Barrie comes to help and we send him home with milk and eggs, or something sweet if he’s lucky.”

“Apples?”

“Oh yes, just Chee and Barrie there, too. You didn’t think I’d be climbing for them?”

“Just making sure. I’d have yelled at her.”

“No need, my Link. She’s a good girl, just wild. It’s a good way to be. I’m not sure where she gets it from, for it’s in neither my nature nor your father’s. You’re like her and yet unlike, too.”

Father.

“…Link? I just felt your heart quicken.”

It’s not like she’s going to know, either.

“My darling, please. I can see something unpleasant’s crossed your mind.”

“…Did I do something wrong?”

“Like what?”

“I… I don’t know? I mean obviously, I’ve done a million things wrong since I got here, but I think father expected that. It must’ve been something really bad.”

“…Do you mean since he hasn’t written? You said you expected that.”

“I- I did, but then when I pulled the sword… I just thought he’d say something. Send a letter telling me what a serious responsibility it was, or just race back here on horseback to make sure I didn’t make a total ass of myself.” Mom squeezes.

“I’d have expected that, too. He was destined for Tabantha Village, followed by the wild mountains of Hebra. He may simply be snowed in.”

“For three months?”

Yeah. I don’t think so, either. We're only approaching winter now... not that there isn't snow in Hebra even in summer, but now's not optimal snow-in time.

“Did he seem okay when he left?”

“More than okay. He was-”

That is such a complicated look. Sad about having been very happy and not being so happy anymore.

“He smiled so much, Link.”

“…Really?” …Was he glad I was gone?

“He was so proud of you. Told me you made short work of all the other trainees and even some of the knights before he left.”

…Oh. “He didn’t say anything to me about that.”

Rubbing my shoulder.

“That’s just him. Well. He played with Laichee a good deal more than usual. He did one of those rib roasts in the pit outside. Without you around to help us eat it, I ended up sending Chee running through town with the extras.”

“Hehe, why’d he make something as big as that?”

“Well… It’s something he’s good at cooking, and he seemed to be making a special effort to take some of the chores off my shoulders.”

“Because of the baby?”

“Oh no. He didn’t know about that yet.”

Right, right, duh! “Well, I’m glad he was so nice.”

“He was more than nice, Link my dear. He was romantic.”

Ewwwwwwwwwwww-

“Oh, come now. That face! Your father has a loving heart, just as you do. I don’t make faces at you and your Princess.”

It’s… different when it’s your parents.

The king and half his guard are talking over near the door. Planning? We won’t be in this room much longer. It must be past 6:30. Probably later. Zelda… eh, she’s busy. She’ll probably check the slate when-

Oh, dumbass… YOU Have the slate.

Right.

Just a twist up and a quick tap.

“Link?”

“Sorry, just checking the time. It’s… 6:35.” Not much time left in this room at all. And Purah clearly did not shut the slate off, because there’re all my thoughts just showing up on the screen and wow that is fascinating what if I think something that isn’t a real word like FOOFAAAA

“Haha!”

“Link?”

“Sorry. Distracting myself.” Put it away, Link. You’ll have time to mess with it later. Pay attention to your mom! “Are you feeling okay? With being pregnant again?”

“Yes. Nothing too difficult. I’ll make an extra effort to stay awake tonight. I’ve been tiring out early.”

“Oh, mom, are you tired? Do you want to go sit down?”

“Not yet, dear. Too much sitting isn’t good, either. The song's ending, though, isn’t it? And I’m sure you’d like time to dance with your lovely Princess before the night’s done.”

“Well… yeah, but she’s also eating dessert, and believe me, I don’t want to interrupt that. Until last week, she’d been all but starving herself.”

A shoulder squeeze.

“Why?”

“Kind of complicated. Pressure, for sure. Feeling- feeling like a failure. Punishing herself for it. Anyway, if she feels like eating, I sure won’t stop her.”

Here comes Jeralt. Time to relay plans?

“Madam Junilla, may I have this dance?”

Wow!

“Oh! Well, yes, if my son will agree.”

Guess he’s not terrified father’ll hang him by his ankles when he comes back. “Sure, why not? Have fun.”

It’s another gentle beat. Zuho’s keeping it slow for the end.

Maybe I’ll wander over to the girls and see if I can resist trying all the fudge. I really shouldn’t overdo it tonight. After we’re all done in the bailey I’m dragging Zelda down to the kitchen so we canNO NO NO, I’m not. We have other plans.

Maybe I can incorporate this plan into that plan.

And maybe they’ll save us some desserts for tomorrow.

Yeaaah. Yeah, don’t mess with the first plan. Food can wait. Fudge keeps forever. Except of course that everyone else’ll eat it.

“Link, you really ought to try some of this butter-nut fudge. It’s extraordinary.”

“The wildberry one’s better!”

“Your sister and I have had a slight disagreement on that subject. We do, however, both believe the dark chocolate version to be ‘righteous.’”

“Righteous?”

“Yeah because it’s SOOO good it puts all the other ones to shame.”

“Pff. Guess I have to try all three. Uh- unless there are others you recommend instead. I want to keep myself mobile. No overdoing it.”

“Yeah those three are the best, Link. Right, Princess?”

“They are. And I do believe after he eats these, your brother and I may dance again.”

“Yeaaaaah of couuuurse you will. Wonder where that kid Tobe went?”

“He’s probably in the kitchen.”

“Oh, should I-?”

“No, Chee, stay with the group. Later you can find him, though. Or tomorrow.”

“Ria did say she’d be bringing the children back out to the festival after the ball.”

“Oh, yeah. Great, that’ll work out. Ria’s meeting us at the storeroom again with the Princess’ clothes.”

“Does that mean that crazy little girl’s coming, too?”

“Myrri. Yeah, she should be.”

“She is NUTS.”

“Reminds me of someone else.”

“I was never that crazy.”

“Ohhh yes you were. Not so fond of bugs, though.”

“Or thorns.”

“Yeah, true-“

“Or word jokes, that’s YOUR thing.”

“Uh. Yeah, I guess so-“

“She is cute, though. Not saying she isn’t. She’s just not so much like me.”

“Hmmmm.” Is it worth arguing with her about this?

….No. “Okay.”

“What do you mean okay?”

Uh. “… I mean okay.”

“You’re not gonna argue?”

“…No. I’m going to eat this piece of fudge. And then… this one. And then that one.”

And YUM.

Why do I have to be a high-ranking officer already? The captain of the Princess’ personal guard? The sword-bearer? A fricking general? If I were just a lowly guardsman, it would be totally acceptable for me to wait around in the hallway until the ball was over, sneak in, and then suck up as many of these little things as I could stick in my face before the waiters fought me off.

But no. I’m me. And I cannot behave like a living fudge-tornado. Some reasons are social. Others unknown-danger-related.

That’s the butter-nut one down the hatch. “That was amazing.”

“Try the berry one!!”

Also yum.

Yet I feel as if both the Princess and my sister may have missed something critical.

What if you put BOTH in your mouth at the same time?

“Alright, look, you two. These are both fantastic. Can you eat more or are you stuffed?”

“I got space.” “I can handle more.”

“Okay. I have to go easy. I think you should each put both in your mouth at the same time and tell me what you think.”

Chee-shrug. Zelda-very-polite-royal-nod-bow-thing like she’s taking this as a very serious request.

Both mouths loaded. Much chewing. Much thoughtful face-scrunching.

“Mmmm, I don’t know, Link.” “Not as good.”

“What?!”

“Mmm. No, it simply wasn’t meant to be.”

“It just sort of tastes confusing.”

“Aww.”

“Oh dear. I believe your brother was hoping to live vicariously through us.”

“He DID live vicariously through us. We just didn’t get this spectacular experience he was expecting.”

“Poor Knight. Perhaps we ought try with the chocolate.”

I didn’t even try the chocolate by itself, yet.

“Pffff, your face. Here.”

Thanks, Chee. Wow. WOW. “This…. Is unbelievably good.”

“Yup.”

“…It’s perfect.”

“Indeed!”

“… We can’t adulterate this.”

“Why, Sir Knight. Do you dare dictate what I may or may not put in my mouth?”

In through the nose. Out… also through the nose, because I’m chewing. Yes. Calm. Find her eyes. “Apologies, Princess. I would only dare to dictate what goes in mine.”

Wait for it.

Oh yes. Reward. Pink ear-tips!

“Are we doing this, or what?”

“…Certainly, Chee. How shall we approach this?”

“I say you try your flavor with the chocoloate and I try mine with the chocolate.”

“How reasonable. Let’s.”

They’re adulterating it. I hope it’s worth it!

Deep concentration. They haven’t even opened their eyes.

“Hmmm.”

“Mmmm, yeah.”

“… Well?”

“The butter fudge has calmed the punch of the dark chocolate while the nuttiness accentuates the bitter overtones. On the whole, I like it, but I believe both flavors were better alone.”

“Not me Princess! This is SO awesome! Berry chocolate fudge! Try it, Link, try it!”

“I’m really trying not to eat that much, Chee.”

“If I was able to take in a significant amount of fudge, I believe you would not be remiss to indulge in a little more. Chee’s flavor was, apparently, quite remarkably paired.”

Wellll….

I’m nowhere near full.

Which was the point.

I don’t want to be walking around out there feeling full and sluggish. And I definitely don’t want to be resisting the urge to relieve myself.

Can I do those two little fudge cubes?

I think I can do it.

“Alright… last thing. You’re sure this is worth it, Chee?”

Wild head-nods.

“Okay.” One dark chocolate, one wildberry.

Ohhhhhh.

No, Link. No. Chew slowly. Do NOT swallow it. Do not. Let it… exist… in your mouth. It can’t last forever, because the longer it’s in my mouth, the more saliva I make, and I can’t just keep letting my mouth fill up and then drool chocolate-water all over my front. So… swallow just enough to clear it all out.

“Hey Princess?”

“Yes, Chee?”

“Sh sh sh-“

“Heh… alright…”

“Does he make that face when you smooch?”

“OH- hahahaha-“ “KMPH-“

Uugh. I saved it, at least. None of it left my mouth.

“Well. Ah- not exactly-”

“Huh. Does she?”

“Chee!”

“You gotta try harder.”

“You would NOT know.”

“I know what you look like when you think something’s AMAZING.”

You may think you do…

“I take it, then, that you approved of the wildberry and dark chocolate combination.”

“Ohh yes. Really really good.”

“Hm hmm. Really, really good.”

Where did that wicked little twinkle in her eye come from?

“I shall keep that in mind.”

…Keep what in mind? The words? The look on my face? The food itself?

She’s… not going to tell me. Just pulling me back out to the dance floor. Bye, Chee- “Oh!”

“Link?”

“We need to look at the pictures on the slate.”

“Oh. Yes.”

Disappointed. Very very disappointed. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re right of course. Here, let me-“

…Link. She’s just untying the slate. That’s all. There’s nothing suggestive about it. You can’t even feel her hands on you. Just tugs. She’s not undoing your laces. She’s not. Stop thinking about it. She’s clearly not even thinking about it. That’s all-business-face. I wouldn’t want her to have that face on. If she did, I’d have to stop her and ask what’s wrong. I’d want her to have that look… the look she had when we returned to the castle. When she asked me to put her arm around her shoulders. Her eyes darker. Lips parted. Moving slowly, not trying to finish as fast as possible. Drawing out the moment. Maybe- maybe running her fingertips first, before even touching the laces, to- to- to-

Link…

Stop it!

…That’s… she- she’s upright, now. Studying my face.

“Why, Link. You appear suddenly too warm.”

Warm doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“Let’s get you seated.”

Yes, Princess.

Think cool things, Link. Um. Snow? Does that help?

…Not really.

How many times have I been saved by the fact that I wear thick, rugged pants and a tunic? This isn’t so bad. Nothing like what happened when she pulled me into that storeroom. Still, would be embarrassing if I was dressed like that guy over there in the tight trousers and shiny doublet.

…How do those people stay sane?

How do they stay CALM?

He’s dancing with a very pretty woman. I think they’re married, I’ve seen them together here before. Maybe that’s how? Maybe it’s not new anymore? Or maybe other people just aren’t as distractible as I am.

That last one could easily be it.

“Here.”

Seat.

Calm.

Pictures. Important.

She’s turning it on. Aaaand there are my thoughts again, still weird- oh! “That’s all you have to do to get rid of it?”

“Ah- eh, yes. A simple swipe.”

That was easy. Amazing it took her so long to figure that out!

“Album.”

A bunch of nature pictures. Guess she unloaded the ones at the ancient columns when she was at the lab. Whoops. Guess I did take a picture at the lab after all, but it was of my feet.

“Eh hehehehe. I didn’t look at this. You did fumble, didn’t you?”

“Erm. Yeah.” Wow, she didn’t look? She must’ve been ceaselessly occupied.

She has been, really. Not only with the slate itself at first but also with all the drama.

There has been SO MUCH DRAMA.

And then the training yard, and prep for the festival, and researching blessings, and somehow finding time to make me not one but TWO new tunics. I’m guessing Jirolie makes the pattern itself and Zelda sews it. Still… she can’t have been getting much sleep at all.

She’s done a lot for me in the last few days. She didn’t have to loop me in on the festival stuff. She wanted to. I was… feeling overwhelmed. By my position. By my own… confusions in my head that don't let me relax. By the other people in this castle… and by the king scaring the absolute living s@#$ out of me. Zelda helped a lot. She notices more than she lets on, doesn’t she?

“Here are the ones Purah took looking back at the crowd as we departed. The ones most likely to contain something, perhaps?”

It’s a sea of people. So many. “Is anyone obviously… ugh.”

“Indeed. We are public figures, and therefore do draw a certain amount of scrutiny.”

A lot of those people have their faces turned toward us. It’s… not going to be an obvious lurker, is it?

Next one. Not all that different. A few people have turned away, a few toward.

Next. No… no obvious clues.

“Anything stick out to you?”

“No, Link—unfortunately not. Let’s try the earlier ones.”

In the bailey proper. While we were walking.

So many curious looks. Lots of kids.

Heh- hey, there’s Mrs. Rocelle’s head. Looks like she tried to wave at us, we didn’t see her… “That bugs me, Princess.”

“What does?”

“Look. She tried to say hello and we didn’t even notice. The people crush is so much we’re missing things that should be obvious.”

“…It is worrisome. Especially for you. You’re more exposed than I am. Someone… Link, someone could easily be carrying a knife in that crowd.”

“…I react fast. As long as I see it coming, I think I could stop it.”

“I’d feel better were you in the center with me.”

“No way.”

“Why not?”

“It’s an obvious tip-off. I’m your appointed knight. I protect you. If we suddenly change that, it’s obvious we’re afraid of something.”

“Is that such a detriment?”

“You don’t think an ordinary person, seeing that, would be worried for their own safety? At least part of the point of all this is to give these people hope. We can’t look like we’re terrified. Protecting you is reasonable—you’re the crown princess. Protecting me? That sends nasty signals. And… at least now we have a vague idea of where the danger is. Part of me is hoping it’ll pop up and we can deal with it now rather than end the day wondering what it was.” And never be able to sleep soundly again.

Not that I do now.

“… I shall defer to you on this. I… am not a knight.”

“Not exactly. You’re a marshall, though, that must count for something.”

“Heh. Words, only. I have much to learn am I to shift my way of thinking to a military one.”

“You… you won’t be giving up, will you? On your research?”

“Of course, not!”

“Good.”

More pictures.

So many faces.

The guards try not to look at us as blatantly as the rest of the crowd, but you can still see their eyes on us. They just don’t turn.

And there’s Rennie and Greggan and all the guards lining the crowd on that side. The two medics. The guards around the mouth of the second gatehouse. They’ve been bringing the targets and tables in and out of there, which makes sense. That’s kind of the right direction for some of those bad feelings for sure, but there’s also the one that was moving.

They were basically flanking the range, weren’t they?

“She got some shots toward the curtain wall, right?”

“Yes, I think so—here.”

“Pff. Mad Miss Morsels. She’s just about in the right direction for that second warning… though it was moving.”

“It’s not outside the realm of possibility that she herself moved. There’s a cluster of outhouses that way.”

“…Nah. I’d have felt something worse near her. I didn’t.”

“Reasonable.”

“…Nothing’s standing out to me.”

“Nor I, I’m afraid. Shall we go through them again?”

“Yeah.” And again, and again, until we run out of time in… “About ten minutes.”

“Let’s make it twenty. Removing these dresses is easier than putting them on.”

Twenty minutes it is.

Sword… you’d better be ready.

_____

I don’t feel it.

What does that mean?

We’re almost at the range. The bailey’s still loaded. Lit as well as it can be with braziers and torches. Some people seem to have left, but it’s still tough to cut through the crowd. Just as much opportunity for someone to lurk.

Why aren’t they?

Did we luck out? Maybe whoever it was gave up. Or maybe we didn’t luck out, and it simply moved somewhere else.

Like… deeper into castle grounds. Not a comforting thought.

Sword? Are you working?

SwordareyouthereswordareyouthereswordareyouthereswordareyouthereswordareyouthereswordareyoutherecomeoncomeoncomeonswordareyouthereAREYOUTHEREAREYOUTHERE

!!!!!

…That felt… distinctly like a “shut up.”

I’m insulted, sword. You were the one warning me.

I guess it’s not just slacking off… if it’s not warning me, it doesn’t feel or sense or hear or something… whatever that something originally was.

I know nothing. Nothing.

I didn’t feel anything at all near the ballroom, so whatever it is can’t have passed near there. That room’s sort of central-ish… well, west-central. I guess I should feel a little better… it might mean nothing went toward the Princess’ chambers.

Then again, I don’t know the sword’s range, and someone could easily circle around if it knew I had noticed it.

Could someone have known?

“You look worried, Link.”

“…Yeah, Turro.”

“Do you feel it?”

“No.”

“…Isn’t that a good thing?”

“I’m not sure. At least I’m on edge on my own, not forcibly.” Nice to know I can be watchful without prodding. I don’t have to give the sword credit for everything.

“Not that I’d expect to if you don’t, Link, but I also feel nothing unusual.”

“Good to know.” There’s Greggan.

“Princess and all.”

“Good evening, Sir Greggan.”

“This’ll be the longest round for you. Fewer people, more rounds per person.”

“I see.”

“We won’t be having you move at all, and I’m putting you right in front of Rennie.”

Heh. Smirk. “…You figure she’ll win?”

“You’re likely to go right up to the end, Your Highness. There’s some stiff competition here. Most of the soldiers didn’t enter because so many duty schedules today don’t allow it. But I’m sure you’ve seen Kertiss. He’s muscular to say the least.”

I’d beat the bastard.

She might not. And that would be really Goddess-damned annoying.

“And there’s a few others who’ll give you a run for your money. One of the blacksmiths entered, and they build their strength every day with their profession. Farmhands, too. Clarny from Mabe Village is here, and he’s built like a Goron miner.”

Too bad we didn’t have more time. We could’ve buffed her up. Starting at the strength level she has puts her easily in reach of what I can do.

After this, Link… you train your ass off, and you train with her.

“Shall we take our positions?”

“By all means, Your Highness.”

Same deal. We surround her. We have to leave a hole so Rennie can see, and some of the crowd. Half turned that way… half turned toward the Princess’ table. Look sharp. Be as intimidating as I can with my not-so-high-height and my still-wonky seam and my scuffed boots.

The boots might help, actually. Shiny boots mean rich poof. I am certainly not that.

Be loose. Ready to move.

Most in the crowd aren’t people we talked to in town. Those people are running stalls. I recognize many of the other faces, but I don’t know their names.

I see the man who tipped his hat to the Princess on the way to the Cathedral. He has a young-ish boy with him. Maybe 13 years old? They’re talking. Excited. Definitely watching her.

Lots more people filling in. Just a few minutes to the start- there’s the horn. Warning everyone to get over here if they want to watch.

Purah-? Yes. Slate out. Taking pictures.

Can she keep all those? It’s limited.

I’ll ask later.

Mipha?

Looking out.

So hard to tell from the outside how she’s feeling. But… I can only imagine.

Keep watch now.

Hey, there they are. Mrs. Rocelle and the kids. Waving!

Wave back. “Hey, Princess, do you see-“

“Indeed, yes! HELLO, CHILDREN!”

“PRINCESS!” “WOO!” “YOU’RE GONNA WIN, RIGHT?” “BEAT ‘EM!” “SQUEEZE THEIR WIMPY HANDS!”

“Hehe, I SHALL DO MY BEST!”

“SIR LINK! WHY DIDN’T YOU ENTER?”

“DUUUUH, BINA, IT’S CUZ HE DOESN’T WANNA BEAT THE PRINCESS!”

“IS THAT WHY, SIR LINK?”

Do you dare say the joke that just popped into your head? It’s not true. But it’d be kind of nice to say. “NOPE! I DON’T WANT HER TO BEAT ME!”

Wow. Huge crowd-laugh-surge.

I guess I’m a comedian.

That would’ve been a nice job for me, actually. I’m ridiculous enough for it.

…Who am I kidding? I’d be a stablemaster, just like Brinn suggested. Such a good idea. I wouldn’t stop monster-hunting, though. Not fun… but important.

Oh. Zelda’s laughing, too.

“Link, you’re terrible.”

“Eh, just a little fib.”

“Now, you see, I shall have to try extra hard. For if anyone defeats me, they would allegedly defeat you, also.”

“…Oops.”

“Perhaps I ought to have tried one of those famous mighty elixers from the apothecary.”

Damn. I bet she had some rupees on her. We could’ve bought some. Oh well. That would be cheating for this anyway, and we do NOT want the Princess to be a cheater.

Does the apothecary have a stall here? I don’t think so. It’s not the kind of thing that lends itself to it. Too fiddly. Doesn’t seem like an impulse-buy, either, but maybe I’m wrong. It never even occurred to me while we were in there. Guess I was too focused on other things.

“ALRIGHT! THIRD ROUND, SET ONE! LISTEN UP! Help me out here, Rennie—thanks. FIVE! NINE! SEVENTEEN! TWENTY-TWO! THIRTY-ONE!”

Looks like thirty-one’s first for us.

“FORTY-THREE! FORTY-EIGHT! FIFTY-NINE! SIXTY-TWO! SIXTY-EIGHT! EIGHTY! NINETY-FIVE! NINETY-NINE! A HUNDRED THREE! A HUNDRED SIX! HUNDRED-AND-ELEVEN! HUNDRED-AND-NINETEEN! A HUNDRED TWENTY-EIGHT!”

Here he comes. Big guy.

“A HUNDRED THIRTY!”

Not much but big guys left at this point.

“A HUNDRED FORTY-EIGHT!”

Forearms covered in curly hair.

“A HUNDRED FIFTY-FIVE!”

I… am very glad mine aren’t like that. I have enough image problems.

He seems a little pale. Either he’s worried about getting beaten by a small woman, or he’s worried HE’LL win and there’ll be consequences.

“Good evening, Sir.”

“G-good evening, Princess.”

“May I ask your name?”

“Oh, I’m just Dunso, Princess.”

“Please, have a seat. Where are you from, Dunso?”

“Carok Village, Princess.”

“Ah, are you a quarryman, then?”

“Yes, Princess! It’s good work. Makes you, er, strong, begging your pardon, Your Highness.”

“My pardon is entirely unnecessary, sir. I look forward to our challenge.”

“ALRIGHT! YOU KNOW THE RULES! SQUARE YOUR SHOULDERS TO START! YOU NEVER CROSS THE CENTER OF THE TABLE! ELBOWS ON TABLE AT ALL TIMES! NO BRACING WITH YOUR OFF-HAND! FEET START GROUNDED! YOU DON’T INTENTIONALLY RIP YOUR HAND OUT OF YOUR OPPONENT’S GRIP! YOU WIN WHEN ANY PART OF YOUR OPPONENT’S HAND PAST THEIR WRIST TOUCHES THE TABLE! THE SET BEGINS WHEN I SAY GO! YOU START EARLY, YOU’RE OUT! SPOTTERS, ATTENTION TO YOUR TABLES! SET ONE…READY!”

The crowd in one corner of my eye. Her in the other. Turro facing outward at my back.

“SET!”

They’re clasped. She looks calm.

“GO!”

He’s strong. Both straining, but he’s straining harder and she’s winning. Slowly eeking his hand toward the tabletop.

Slowly.

Faster.

Down.

“Amazing, Princess!”

“An excellent effort, Dunso. That was the most difficult yet.”

“I’ll be… thank you, Princess!”

He’s up with a nod. I think he’s glad to get out of here. Uncomfortable, maybe? Impressed, I think.

I already see Rennie writing it in his book.

“That was quick.”

Turro. “Yep.”

“How difficult was that one really?”

“It was not exactly a challenge, but I did have to exert significant effort.”

“You could’ve beat him faster?”

“Yes.”

Some others are already walking up to Rennie. Reporting a win or a loss. Winners stand aside. Losers join the crowd or just leave.

There’s Kertiss. Guess he won fast.

That’s… some glare.

Okay. Eye contact’s not really my thing. But I’ll be damned if I look away from this jerk first.

Still looking.

Stiiiiiill looking.

“How’s it going, general?”

Should’ve known. He wasn’t shy about shouting in the yard. “Fine.” That came out mercifully unemotional.

“So, you think the Princess would beat you, huh?”

I regret my joke.

“So, if I beat her, I beat you, yeah?”

Say nothing.

“Come on, Link. Don’t be a coward.”

“HEY!”

Ooh. That made him jump. The kids behind him. Who-

“DON’T YOU DARE CALL MR. LINK A COWARD!”

It’s Jenger.

“YEAH!” “YOU STINK!” “WE’LL-“ “THAT’S-“ “YOU-“

“HEY KIDS!” …Good. They stopped. “I GOT THIS.” Heh. Their tiny little fists are all balled up. It’s cute, but… I don’t know where Kertiss’ dickishness ends. I don’t want him to have any reason to be nasty to them. “Kertiss. Any time I’m off duty. Come find me. We’ll fight it out if that’s what you want.”

…Hmm.

Suddenly quiet.

Maybe I’m not the coward.

Greggan’s pointing people toward their next tables.

Kertiss... isn’t coming here.

Yet.

It’s another big guy, though. Not a surprise.

Two hesitant nods. One for me and one for the Princess.

“Evening, Princess.”

“Ah, Boemer! Good evening.”

“I, ah- that is-“

“If you are about to suggest discomfort with doing your best to defeat me, which some have, please be assured I wish you to fight your hardest.”

More nodding. “Okay, Princess. I… I am one of the strongest smiths in the shop.”

“I believe it—and I appreciate the challenge.”

They’re getting ready. Hands clasped already. Should only be-

“ALRIGHT! SET TWO…READY! SET! GO!”

Oooh. This one’s harder. She did a sudden lift of her head. More attentive. More alert.

And again, his hand is slowly making its way toward the table. He looks frankly shocked.

“W-wow.”

That she’s not responding says how hard she’s working for this one.

And still working.

Scan the crowd, Link.

And still working.

So slow.

She’ll get tired out.

Wish I could see Kertiss… how long his was taking.

Lower.

And lower.

…And…

Down.

Cheers and claps behind Rennie.

“Incredible, Princess!”

“Thank you. You are indeed remarkably strong.”

“I’m glad I had this chance, Princess. The boys in the shop’ll never believe it. They thought I was a shoe-in.”

“I hope they shan’t be too disappointed.”

“Disappointed, no, I don’t think so. Surprised, yeah! Ah- good game, Princess.”

“Yes. Good game!”

Very polite. Nice to hear.

We… were the last table going that time. The others are already waiting.

And Kertiss, predictably, is still there. He’s a fricking bear.

Greggan’s pointing them outward. Five tables left.

Here’s ours.

“I’m so glad to meet you, Princess!”

Well, he’s chipper.

“And I you, sir?”

“I’m Gleppit. I work with the Mabe Village Co-op raising cattle.”

“Ah! I’d heard the co-op had helped the village a good deal.”

“Yes, Princess, we’ve been able to help the folks whose farms and equipment were in worse repair, and now they produce more, and we’re all better off.”

“I hear you’ve been exporting a good deal of milk and butter.”

“We have, it’s been so successful we’ve been turning a lotta cow’s milk into butter, not just goat. It just lasts so much longer.”

The political butter-landscape.

“ALRIGHT!”

She didn’t even

“O-oh!”

need to know much

“SET THREE!”

to talk to him about it.

“Shall we, Gleppit?”

Just ‘I hear you’ve been

“READY!”

exporting lots of milk

“Yes, Princess!”

and butter.��

“SET! …GO!”

Wow. Well, this one doesn’t seem as bad, actually. He must’ve gotten a string of less-burly opponents. She’s got him handily.

Seems relieved.

…He’s down. Crowd-cheer, especially from those kids.

“Aw.”

“Oh dear. I’m sorry, Gleppit.”

“Naw, don’t be sorry, Princess. Everyone’s been saying how strong you are. If I was gonna lose, losing to you is the best way to go out.”

“Indeed! I thank you for that.”

It’s so easy, isn’t it? To talk to her. She doesn’t have this aura of I’m-royal-don’t-bug-me. Neither does the king, really, though that stern/angry/growly voice he has is powerful.

Yet I wouldn’t talk to her for the longest time.

My own fault. Not hers. Though I was by no means the only one.

I wonder… it was my father who put that idea in my head. Did he have something to do with the rest? Did he discourage people from talking to her? Zelda said he never showed her any affection. I can… easily see him just plain old thinking it wasn’t appropriate. Even if he thought she was a cute kid, he’d keep his feelings to himself.

Would he also have told the rest of the guard to do the same thing?

Yeeaaaaah. Yeah, he would.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just blaming him for stuff because I’m annoyed with him.

This… is awkward. Five tables. Five winners. Not an even number. I know Greggan couldn’t control how many people entered, so it is what it is. Still, it means someone sits this round out.

Names… in a basket, huh?

“LISTEN UP! TWO SETS LEFT! ONE CONTESTENT SITS THIS ROUND OUT. WE’VE FIVE NAMES IN HERE! PRINCESS ZELDA! CLARNY OF MABE VILLAGE! BERTOLL OF AQUAME! KERTISS OF AKKALA HEIGHTS! AND MIRRABAN OF CASTLE TOWN!”

She’s the only woman… but she has been almost since the start of the tournament. Shearge entered, but someone must’ve knocked her out in the second round.

…I don’t know if I want him to pull her name or not. If he does, people might cry foul. He’s digging around for it. The paper’s in his hand. He's grinding his teeth. Guess he doesn't like what it says?

“CLARNY! YOU’LL SIT THIS ONE OUT!”

Two more papers.

“KERTISS! YOU’LL FACE PRINCESS ZELDA!”

F#@$.

“BERTROLL AND MIRRABAN, OVER HERE!”

Here he comes.

He’s not smirking. Doesn’t look cocky, exactly. Does look deadly serious. I bet he knows I’m watching his hands and abdomen like a f@#$ing islander hawk. I don’t think he’s the danger the sword sensed… I think he’s just a dick. But I’m ready.

“Turro, be on the watch outward, would you?”

“Yeah.”

“Virn…”

“I’m on it, sir.”

He’s… been good about this. About today. It’s a relief.

“Princess.”

“Kertiss.”

Hehe. That paused him. His title’s gone. Not sure he’d thought about it.

Sinking slowly into his seat. Both hands flat on the table. Searching her face for something. Even the idea of letting him touch her pisses me off, but it’s her choice, not mine. And she sure doesn’t look like she’ll back down.

No small talk, huh?

“SET FOUR! READY!”

Hands clasped. He- okay… he’s not trying to crush her hand. That’s good.

“SET!”

Guess he doesn’t hate her.

“GO!”

…Wow.

No movement either way.

Two rocks caught between moving earth.

Tendons standing out in both their necks. Their wrists. His forehead muscles tensed. I see something sticking out there. And both their faces are starting to turn red, though her breathing’s more controlled than his.

“Gmpk.”

That… sound came from her.

Don’t hurt yourself, Zelda. If he’s going to win, he’s going to win… it’s not worth it. You still have archery to do, and that you will nail as long as Purah’s not an idiot this time.

No movement. At all.

Murmurs from the crowd. A series of ‘wows’ woven together into a tapestry of sound.

“Hoooo. Hooo.”

Trying to moderate his breathing.

Hers is getting heavier. Still even, though. Controlled.

“Damn.”

I… hope she didn’t hear that. Be quiet, Greggan.

“Gg. Gg.”

If it’s hurting you, ease up. Ease up, Princess. Ease- THEY SLIPPED!

“HOLD! Hold. Let’s have a look.”

Checking their palms.

“Sweat. FOURNIER! STRAP!”

Great.

“Apologies, Princess. Sweat makes you slip, and that could end in broken bones for someone. We’ll strap your hands. Is that alright?”

“Yes.”

This bugs me. A lot. Her choice, though. Her choice.

Here he comes.

And they’re belting them together.

“Alright. ALRIGHT! ONE MORE START! READY… SET… GO!”

…Two trembling arms. No other motion.

A centimeter. In his favor.

No, Princess. No-

She’s straining harder.

Her ankles locked together, feet off the ground.

There he goes. Doing the same kind of thing.

“Gmph-“ “Bff-“

No. No, just let him win, don’t just stop but ease up-

Her face has gone BEET RED AND SHE’S PUSHING SO HARD AND SHE MOVED HIM BACKWARD AND SHE’S STILL MOVING HIM AND HOLY S@#$ SHE’S ACTUALLY GOING TO DO IT ISN’T SHE SHE’S-

Ohhh… oh no-

Now he’s puffing cheeks with every breath. Something’s jumping in his neck. Pushing back harder, but his hand’s still halfway down, still there, just halted, halted-

“Phooooo- phooooo- phoooooo-“

And another huge effort on her part and she’s pushing pushing pushing PUSHINGPUSHING HE’S GOING DOWN HE’S GOING HE’S HIT!!!!!!!

“Haaah!” “Goddess… DAMN it.”

He looks PISSED off- don’t you dare-

Okay… he’s not. He’s not just ripping his hand out of the strap. He is undoing it, though. It’s off… and both their hands are red and dented.

“Ffffff. Princess…”

“Yes?”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

F@#$ you, you dick. In fact, “F@#$ you, you dick.”

“Shut up, Link.”

…Oh, we’re staring each other down now, are we? Wh-

“S@#$- Turro what do you think I am, some f@#$ing traitor? Don’t worry. I won’t hurt your precious hero.”

But apparently, he’ll bend over so he can be nose-to-nose with me and Greggan’s now flanking him looking ready to shiv him if he makes one wrong move.

“You know, your dad told us a lot about you before you got here.”

“I figured.”

“You’re a wimpy, whiny, skinny, shrimpy, girly s@#*.”

“Am I?”

“You don’t have what it takes to use that sword on your back.”

“And you think you do?”

“More than you. I don’t get distracted by the color of my f#$*ing hair band.”

“Oh ho ho. Nothing to say to that, huh? You’re not a real soldier. This ridiculous bullshit with you and the Princess is the last straw.”

“Kertiss-“

“NO, Greggan. I’ll say my piece. This is a sham. YOU’RE a sham. Faking it. Trying to make it seem like you’re a real man when you’re not. Sir Lyle isn’t some fool. You didn’t FOOL him. You’re fooling the Princess. I can’t stand watching it-“

“So our PRINCESS is the fool, then?”

“Wh- that’s not-“

“You misogynistic asshole. Get out of my face. Now.”

“Or WHAT?”

“Or I put you in the dirt where you belong.”

“It’ll be the other way around you f@#$ing f@$$)%.”

“HHH!” “KERTISS!” “Come ON, man!” “How DARE you!” “”AH-HH!” “What in Hylia’s name does that mean?” “Oh… my.” “Eh?” “Shut UP and GET OFF MY FIELD!”

Z-Zelda?

Her hand. Slipped into mine. Staring at him. Waiting for him to meet her eyes.

There… there they go…

And…? Now she’s ignoring him! She’s smiling at me instead.

“It wouldn’t matter even if what he says were true. You know that. Don’t you, Link?”

…It wouldn’t?

“I’d love you anyway. Though I would be saddened were you not to feel as I do. Nor would it lessen your extraordinary speed, strength, and skill, nor the compassion you have for others. The true issue, I think, is that some still appear to feel free to treat you so. Or indeed, anyone who does not fit the standard mold.”

Kertiss went real quiet. He’s not even doing the gross heavy-breathing he was a few seconds ago.

“I shall not address your antagonizer again. I shall instead say that he must leave willingly, now, and not return to castle grounds. Elsewise, I shall order Sirs Turro, Virn, and Greggan to remove him immediately and await my father’s judgement.”

“Our king wouldn’t-“

“Now. Willingly. Or else.”

Like a hundred-pound draw. Virn… Virn’s hand is on his hilt. Greggan’s are opened at his sides… ready to grip. Can’t see Turro but feel him ready to push me aside.

…And he’s off. Turned on his heel as fast as possible toward the first gatehouse.

Father… you caused this. You really did.

Not that Kertiss wasn’t already an asshole. But you dumped a s@#$-ass-ton of fuel on that fire. Why would he trust someone like that with information about his own son… especially something he thought was sensitive?

He’s just not good with people, is he? Not at all. He’s not like the king or the Princess. He can’t predict them. Can't read them. He doesn’t know what to do. It’s why his advice is so bad.

“F@#$.”

Greggan?

“I need a moment after that s@#$storm. I don’t even remember who won the other Goddess-damned bracket. We’ll be late starting the archery one. Eh…”

He’s feverishly scratching the back of his head.

“You’re going to make one hell of a Queen, Princess.”

“Thank you, Sir Greggan.”

“Link, seriously man, are you alright?”

“Yeah, Turro. Fine.” Can’t seem to stop darting between each of Zelda’s eyes, actually.

Did she know people thought that about me? It took me a while to start suspecting. Then I found out about the bets. Then Turro said father’d said things. I just… thought she’d be more surprised than she is.

Maybe it’s because I mentioned the looks I was getting. From guys. In the barracks.

“…Holy Goddess, Link, I wouldn’t be. You have some damn thick skin. I’d’ve punched him.”

“Pffh- thick skin? Are you kidding?”

“Not even a little. I’d’ve lost my cool.”

“I…”

Virn?

“I didn’t realize that was his problem with you, sir. I thought… I thought-“

“You truly thought Link was eyeing me.”

“… He WAS.”

“Pff- oh-“

“S#$%, Virn-“

“Eh… sorry, Sir, but it’s obvious at this point-“

“So, why aren’t you still furious with me?”

“The king- I- we’d told him, sir. About the looks. He said he’d handle it, and I thought he meant to dismiss you from service.”

Oh. That actually makes some sense.

“He corrected me later. I- I do regret my words. I just thought it wasn’t allowed. Sir.”

“…You know what, Virn? There are worse things. You’re fine.”

“…Could someone please explain what in the world that commotion was about?”

Oh. Oh, Link. Don’t laugh. Don’t. You’re distracted enough.

I really am distracted. Turro’s looking outward. So is Virn. Zelda stayed between everyone, but my back was partially turned out. Not what we agreed. Return to position, Link. Keep her hand, though.

“It’s a Hylian… taboo, Seggin. Sort of. About who people are attracted to.”

A gentle thumb-swipe. I’ll return it.

“Hehhhh. You Hylians. You make so many rules for yourselves to follow.”

Greggan.

“Alright. I have Mirraban and Clarny going at it already. You’ll face the winner. The unpleasantness here more than justified Mirraban getting the short end of the stick.”

Agreed.

A little squeeze.

“My arm is quite tired.”

Oh no. “…I’m sorry, Princess.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

“I do—my big fat mouth.”

“I do not regret my efforts. I’m quite pleased to have defeated him. I… believe I shan’t be fighting this last one quite so hard. I’d prefer to save my strength to be able to draw my bowstring.”

Turro’s feet just shifted. He knows he’s the only competition.

“Princess?”

“Yes, Mipha!”

“I could use my gift. It would restore you.”

“Oh no, Mipha. That would be a waste. And no one else has access to such benefit—I’d feel it were cheating.”

“Alright. I’m here, should you need me.”

Glad she said something. She’s been… awfully quiet.

“ALRIGHT EVERYONE! THIS IS IT! CLARNY OF MABE VILLAGE, PLEASE APPROACH THE PRINCESS’ TABLE!”

Back to her seat.

He is a VERY large man. Crazy tall, muscular and also very very fleshy. His weight alone would make him formidable on a field. Reminds me of…

Oh. He really DOES remind me of Crinno. A lot. Are they related? This guy looks younger.

“H-hello, Your Highness.”

That is a DEEP voice. Soft, though.

“Hello, Clarny. I’m pleased to meet you.”

“I- I’m sorry about that man. He was awful.”

“It’s not your fault one bit.”

“I should’ve picked him up for you. He was little.”

Pfff. Yeah, compared to this guy he was.

“No need. But thank you for the sentiment. Please, take a seat.”

He’s hesitant. Seems like he might actually be a nice person. If she’s going to lose, at least it won’t be to a dickwad. He’s making that chair creak like something else! He’d really need two to sit comfortably across them.

She’s offering her hand.

Woooow. His engulfs hers.

“Ohh. Ohh, you’re so tiny.”

“There are those far smaller than I.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Princess. You can’t even hold my palm.”

Here comes Fournier.

“You’re going to need this, aren’t you?”

And he’s strapping them.

Clarny already looks like he feels really bad. He has this giant, wrinkly pout on. At least, I think it’s a pout. I don’t think it’s just his face.

“Okay… all set. ALL SET!”

“FINAL SET! PRINCESS ZELDA VS. CLARNY OF MABE VILLAGE! READY… SET… GO!”

“Oh.”

…No motion.

Really?

…They’re not shaking, either. Not straining. Either of them.

“You’re holding back, aren’t you, Clarny?”

“I feel bad.”

“Please don’t. You are one of my people. I welcome and celebrate your accomplishments.”

“R-really?”

“Yes. Please do no less than your best.”

“Oooh. I- I won’t hurt you, Princess, but I’ll push harder.”

And he is. Harder. And harder. And harder. And she’s resisting him but not to the point of straining with taut tendons. And… he’s winning the most careful arm-wrestle ever. I think if she even were to twitch, he’d stop.

…That’s it. She touched the table.

“CLARNY WINS IT!”

ROAR!! They’re going nuts!!! I’m not sure exactly what they were rooting or hoping for, but they’re having a good time.

Aw. Clarny isn’t smiling.

Zelda is.

She’s unwrapping them. Standing. Offering him her hand.

“Uh-“

“Please.”

“O-okay…”

Aaand she’s walking him out of the circle- back up Link- “Follow, Turro, Virn-“

Nods, they’ve got it, they’re following, the others are too. Enough that they can see them both for a moment, but not so much that she’s totally exposed.

Those kids! Uh oh, is that a good thing or not?

Maybe not. But it’s not like I can stop them, what would I do? Yell at them like a total jerk? Body-block them?

“You did so awesome, Princess!”

“Wow! You only got beat by the BIGGEST PERSON WHO EVER LIVED!”

“So, Mister Clarny, huh? You know what a big responsbilility it is that you’re even stronger than Princess Zelda?”

“Responsbilility?”

“Yeah!”

“Uh-“

“Hmm, children. Perhaps we ought to allow Clarny to enjoy his victory and worry about any responsibilities later.”

Speaking of…

“But he might be able to carry even MORE than thirteen kids!”

They’re up there. On the rampart. Still safe.

“Thirteen kids?”

Good.

“Yeah, Sir Link could carry thirteen of us at once!”

I think Chee may have just waved at me.

“Aw, haw haw. I think I can fit twenty of you on here. But I don’t know if you could hold on.”

I wonder if they heard any of Kertiss’ crap. Probably not. Could see it, though.

And still… after all this… nothing from the sword at all.

Aaaand children are climbing on Clarny. Heh. Good luck, man.

_____

Read Next: REMAIN STILL, REMAIN CALM. (Warning for violence).

Read this fanfic from the beginning (it makes more sense that way).

Follow this link for the post list for this fic.

#linksthoughtbrambles #botw #zelda #fanfic #zelink #breath of the wild #loz #legend of zelda

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heyvivalapluto · 2 years

Text

time for some random headcanons about fred weasley

+ (bonus georgie, occasionally)

he actually likes his hair longer

(while george prefers it shorter)

he’s a dog person

very competitive

great at charms & potions

deadpans a lot

lies just for the sake of it. like, he’ll just lie to see who believes in it and how long he can keep the lie

he’s the most logical one, most of the times

(george is not exactly sentimental, per say. more like the most impulsive (and impatient) one)

younger siblings, am i right?, fred would say

fred’s sarcasm is usually about the lack of logic of people’s way of thinking. surprisingly enough

is a true procrastinator

not great at learning new languages. (he’d be that tom meme “¿cuantos años tienes? / london.”)

(while george would be surprisingly good at learning new languages, just by hearing a little of it somewhere or reading a sentence)

would never admit it, but did very much look up to his older brothers (except, of course, percy, who’s a prick)

fred just thought (and thinks) charlie and bill are the coolest

loves spooky stories

flirting & teasing & provoking

fred is very much disappointed and sad that george is taller than him

(george keeps making fun of him for it)

fred is the grumpiest of the twins. (not the normal type of grumpy, just grumpier than george. but they’re both very easygoing and laidback and whatnot)

“aren’t you worried?” “please, have you ever seen me worrying about anything?”

his favorite color is purple, if he has to pick one

he did look up for muggles type of magic and thought they’re brilliant

so he made sure to learn a few tricks himself

he loves the hats and the fake wands they use. it’s comical

fred is a sweet tooth

always humming some song he heard on the radio or something. almost never is a song he genuinely likes

a night owl.

hates the mornings, prefers to wake up late and stay up late

loves lurking around in the night pretending he’s haunting the house

prefers coffee over tea. which is… something

“against all authority, except mi mamá” would probably be his senior quote if he got to have one

swears a lot, but mostly out of frustration and not just in the middle of a sentence

mimics george whenever he annoys fred

fred is actually the one responsible for the marketing and branding of the store

since he knows how to draw

but he has terrible handwriting. like, awful. worst than doctor’s handwriting

(george is the only one who can actually read it.)

he singsongs a lot

makes all the jokes about being the older twin

(george says he only does that because fred’s still sulking over the fact that he’s so short)

can’t really dance, but does it anyway. his confidence makes up for every wrong step

was the one who taught ron his first curse/bad word

not really the jealous type. at least, not with ginny

he’s actually very proud she’s got quite a reputation for breaking boys’ hearts (and girls and whomever, actually)

(“heartbreaker like me, eh?” “shut up, fred”)

but with a love interest? possessive, but won’t show. he just refuses to show

although he will most likely act a little distant as he sulks into his jealousy

(george is the jealous type, but probably will go quiet too, waiting for you to ask. or something like that, i don’t really get men)

coffee enthusiast

not really a leader type

usually waits until the last minute or until things get really bad to make a decision and/or take control of things

any pronouns are just fine. but prefers he/they

heavy accent. it’s hard for non-british to get what he’s saying

forever mad he and george weren’t the ones who invented the marauders’ map

“we were totally capable of doing it!”

always forgetting to drink water

(george could easily drown in how much he drinks water on a daily basis)

can’t cook shit

(well, he can make coffee. at least.)

(george can make eggs and salad. and egg salad.)

either way, they’re both awful at cooking

they both argue for the tiniest of things just because they kinda think it’s better than doing nothing and being bored

fred is more of a kicker, while george is more of a puncher

coffee coffee coffee

fred looooves ignoring the problem until it goes away. if it doesn’t go away, he’ll probably just solve it with the bare minimum of effort

crooked smile, crooked nose

half-asses most of the things

favorite flavor of anything is always strawberry

the twins don’t actually wear the same size on anything

would most likely play hide and seek with anyone at any age because he loves this game

is always making the silliest bets

can’t for the life of him pick a single project.

is always trying to solve and test every single new product at the same time. he just has to do it all together

loves the snow.

christmas is his favorite holiday. after april fool’s, of course.

birthday enthusiast.

#my flamboyant boy #god i miss him #he’s my whole world #fred weasley #hp fred weasley #fred weasley headcanons #headcanons #hp #george weasley #hp george weasley #weasley twins #harry potter

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ssatoritendou · 3 years

Text

Old Spice, Breakfast, & Memory Lane

Pairing: Itadori/reader

Yuuji Itadori

+ summary: Yuuji takes notice that you slept in his sweatshirt. In which leads into a conversation about your future, and talking about your past as well.

Word count: 1.7k

Genre: fluff

Warning: hornee Yuuji

“___, you won’t believe what this cursed- Shit you are sleep,” Yuuji said putting up his hands feeling guilty. He switched to whispering. “Sorry, Babe.” He placed his hand on your head gracefully stroking your hair.

“She looks delicious to eat,” Sukuna said mouth appear on Yuuji’s palm licking the hair under his hand.

Yuuji slaps his hand to his face. “I thought I told you to never do that to her.” He growled.

“Too bad though she smells like you.”

“Just ignoring me fine. What do you mean she smells like me? She always smells fresh like a clean spring day, refreshing.” Yuuji smiled.

“Maybe because she is wearing that gross yellow sweatshirt of yours and smells like your old spice. I have to live with it every day for the rest of my life.”

Yuuji stopped listening to the demon living inside of him and looked at his beloved girlfriend wearing his yellow sweatshirt, that desperately needed to be washed.

He smirked. He got up from crouching and took off his uniform. Slipping into bed behind you wrapping his arms lightly.

You wiggled up against him. He groaned when you did that but he suppressed that thought letting his chin rest on your head.

“No talking for the rest of the night you. She needs her beauty rest.”

“You can say that again.”

As much as Yuuji wanted to fight Sukuna for even muttering another word, he didn’t want to go wake his sleeping angel.

There were only four things that woke up Yuuji. 1) the bright sunlight pouring into his room when he forgot to roll his shades down. 2) Nobara when they need to go on a mission. 3) a wet dream. 4) the smell of food being prepared.

This morning it was the smell of breakfast. He could smell the eggs and sausage being cooked on the small hot plate. He sat upon his bed, fixing his pillows. He found himself staring at you in all your glory still wearing his sweatshirt. He let his eyes stop at your ass and his head fall to the side as he leered your round cheeks peeking out of the grey sweat-shorts.

“Morning Yuuji.” You said without turning around.

“Morn’ baby.” He said in a gravelly morning voice.

You turned your head slightly to say, “breakfast will be ready in minutes.”

“Thank you, baby.” He chuckled as he putting arms behind his head. “Do we have any syrup?”

“Yuuji you think I don’t already have it out for you?” You said to point your spatula towards his bed tray with a bottle of syrup already on it and a small glass of apple juice.

Now you were putting the food on his plate. Turning around with the tray in hand which was set up beautifully, his silverware wrapped in a napkin, his apple juice had a straw in it, a bottle of maple syrup to drown his eggs and sausages in, and a small vase with some wildflowers that grew on the jujutsu tech property.

You did this every time he came back from a long mission.

It was your way of telling him you love him, happy that he was safe and thankful for him.

“Thank you, angel.” He said picking up your hand and kissing it.

“How was the mission?” You asked.

“It was fine. The cursed spirit was weird looking. It was yellow, this was the first yellow cursed spirit I have seen. It looked like a Picasso painting."

You nodded understanding his description. You have only seen them briefly in high intense situations but you don't see them as frequently as your friends.

"It is not like I look forward to them. We are just doing a job and trying to find the fingers as well.”

He started to shove more food into his mouth syrup dripped down onto his chest. “You want to clean this up?” He asked in a flirty tone.

You only rolled your eyes picking up the napkin wiping his chest.

“Worth a shot right?”

“You know I love when you are overly flirty.”

He laughed. “I love it when you wear my clothes.”

“Oh, you noticed?”

"Of course I noticed, I notice everything about you." He said playing with your fingers resting on his leg.

“You even smell like the rat. That god awful old spice body wash and body deodorant.” Sukuna chided into the conversation.

“Stay out of this Sukuna.” You said picking up a sausage sticking it in the demon’s mouth. The demon willing took the sausage and chewed on it.

“You looked so cute last night,” Yuuji said. “I wanted to wake you up and tell you how pretty you look.”

He put his hand on your cheek as you rested against it. “I just can’t see myself ever living without you.” You said.

“Hey don’t think that way. I’m always going to be here. I need you to know that.”

“Yuuji…”

“___ baby, if I weren’t a jujutsu student we would’ve never met.”

That was true. You were Mei Mei’s niece. No clue how it was possible but your parents were both sorcerers and passed away at young age doing their job. Mei Mei became your parent. She never stayed in one place because of her job. You never developed curse energy. Mei Mei was thankful for that. Jujutsu Tech offered you, board. In return, you helped around the grounds.

You remembered the day you met Yuuji.

He and Fushiguro were hanging out by the open concrete archways. He had been sipping an apple juice pouch overly petting Fushiguro’s demon dog. You had been tending to the garden when the carton of apple juice had landed into the bush. You picked up the pouch and stomped over into their direction.

“New blood?” You asked Fushiguro.

“____ this is Yuuji Itadori. Sukuna’s vessel.”

“Yeah, idiot Satoru mentioned it in passing. He never gives the full explanation.” You said grunting.

Itadori was sitting there starring at you during a brief conversation with Fushiguro, finally speaking up when there was a small silence. “That is the most I have ever heard him talk.”

You laughed a little bit. You smiled turning towards him, “Itadori is it?” He nodded. “Keep your trash in the trash bin or live to regret it.” You walked away.

“Who is she?” He asked Fushiguro.

“Thats ____, ___. She is a sorcerer's niece. Her parents were sorcerers. She was raised here for the most part. I’ve known her for a long time. She doesn’t have cursed energy she is normal. But Gojo did teach her how to fight. Be afraid.”

It wasn’t long after that he “passed away” but you were cleaning some of the rooms and you heard a movie playing and walked in and saw Itadori sitting there sipping on his 4 can of soda holding a stuffed bear by its head.

“Itadori? How? I thought—you should be dead.”

“Trust me I don’t understand it either. But no one can know. A small number of people know.”

“So I can’t tell anyone?”

“Exactly.” He said with a thumbs up. And then the stuffed bear knocked him in the face.

You laughed so hard that your insides started to hurt.

Itadori pulled the stuffed bear off of him and got it to calm it down to sleep. He started staring at you again. He started laughing too.

“You want to watch movies with me?” He asked.

“Sure.” You said sitting down and eating some of the chips and drink what was left of Itadori’s soda. “Sorry about that. I haven’t really eaten anything today.”

‘Inadvertent kiss.’ He thought for a minute looking at you in the eyes making an awkward silence in the air. “Uh..yeah it’s fine. What do you want to watch?” He gestured to a stack of DVDs.

You scanned the titles. “Let’s watch Scream.” You said holding up the case.

“Really a horror movie?”

“You fight curse spirits every other day. This is nothing.”

“I just don’t want you getting scared.”

“Pfft.” You said.

You hated to admit it but Itadori was right you did get scared. Only when it was gross. You shoved your face into a pillow.

“You can come over here if you want.” He said looking away from the tv and your direction in general. You moved over closer to him. Over time while watching the movie he put his arm across the back of the couch slightly touching your shoulders.

When the credits started rolling you said. “Itadori if you wanted to ask me out or kiss me you could have.”

“What?”

“Never mind then.” You sighed.

“No no no…I do want to ask you out just didn’t think you would say yes.”

“You don’t think highly of yourself?”

“…I don’t usually have any luck with the ladies.” He said rubbing his head.

“Consider this lady impressed by you.” You giggled.

Itadori leaned down and kissed your cheek.

“You missed.”

“What do you mean I missed?”

You turned your head to him and straddled his lap. “I mean you missed.” You kissed him on the lips.

He was a little stunned by your boldness. He wasn��t sure what to do at first. But soon he melted into the kiss soon putting his hands on your waist.

You pulled away.

“So are you my girlfriend?”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course dumbo.”

Now you were here laying in his bed holding onto him to dear life. Tears were rolling down your cheeks and you were sniffling.

“Angel it will be ok. I can handle myself. You have seen me fight.”

“Yuuji I know that. It’s just the ending…”

“That’s a long time away.”

“Yuuji it’s going to happen. I don’t know what I will do if it happens. Yuuji if you fully turn into Sukuna I might try and save you from our friends.”

“___…”

“Yuuji it’s you. If there was a chance I could save you….” You couldn’t even finish the thought your face started to crumble.

He picked up your face. “___ I understand if it were you I would fight off everyone any way I can.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I promise everything will be ok. We will be ok.”

You nodded your head in his hands.

“Come on little lady let’s watch a movie together.” He pulled you closer to him.

“Scream?” You asked.

“Oh yeah definitely Scream.” He chuckled. Putting the movie on. “I love you ___.”

“I love you Yuuji.” You pecked his lips. He squeezed you in returned.

#itadori yuuji #yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #yuuji jjk #yuuji jujutsu kaisen #itadori jjk #itadori jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen yuuji #yuuji Itadori jujutsu Kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk yuuji itadori #jjk fluff #itadori fluff

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fayemarvels · 3 years

Text

Changed my mind

Loki x fem!reader

Hey guys so, this is my first Loki fic I really hope you like it. I have a part two planned so if you would like to read it please, let me know.

Summary: Thor is sick and he asked Loki to get him some Midgardian food. He went down to New York, where he met a girl and she helped him to cook food for his brother. Maybe Midgard isn't so bad after all.

! please don't repost my work anywhere without my permission. Thank you.!

Warnings: none, bad writing

Word count: 1.9k

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Loki has always hated Midgard and everything that comes with it. People, traditions, clothes, food, you name it. He always thought Midgardians were below him, less than him and he was sure nothing could change his mind. He never understood what Thor saw in them and their planet.

His brother was also the reason why Loki was here. You see, Thor had the worst type of Asgardian flu and he persuaded Loki to get him some Midgardian food. There was just one problem. Loki didn’t know any Midgardian food and he didn’t have any books about the planets’ food.

That was why he was in New York, to get a recipe book. He wandered around the New York streets and people were looking at him very weary. To be honest, he did understand why. He tried to take over their planet after all. After about 40 minutes of walking around, he finally found a bookstore tucked away in a quiet alleyway. Loki swung the door open and the bell above his head rang.

After a few moments of silence, he heard a soft

“Coming, wait a moment please.” from the back of the store. In a few seconds, a girl came from the back looking around the store for the new customer.

“Hello welcome!” she greeted cheerfully.

“How can I help you?” when she looked at Loki she froze, but then just shook her head. He looked around and informed her.

“I need a recipe book with some of the best Midgardian foods.” She nodded quietly and walked from behind the counter. The girl hurried to the shelves full of books and ran her finger across the spines. She stopped and took out a thick book with a picture of pancakes with chocolate and some fruit on the cover.

“This is what you are looking for.“ she informed him and handed him the book. He took it from her hands and flipped through a few pages. Loki silently informed.

”I will take it.” She smiled and walked toward the cash register. She rang him up and he paid for it. But couldn’t help herself.

“Excuse me but, can I ask you something?” she asked and he turned around with an annoyed look on his face.

“Why do you want to cook our food? Didn’t you hate our planet?” he rolled his eyes and decided to answer. He had all the time in the galaxy.

“My brother is sick and he asked me to get some Midgardian food that isn’t fast food.” He took a breath and decided to continue.

“I never ate Midgardian food so I needed some references. I will conjure them up with my magic.”

“I don’t think it will taste really good if you conjure it up with your magic.” She confessed and he looked very offended.

“It’s not that I don’t think you are incapable I just think it would be better if you cooked it with your hands.” He looked at her confused and shook his head.

“And why would I do that hmm? Tell me, little mortal.” She looked really nervous but managed to get out some words.

“I think it will make him feel better if it would be made with love.” He scoffed and looked at her.

“What love? There isn’t any.“ She shook her head.

”If there wasn’t any, you wouldn’t be here.” he looked to the side with a weird look on his face.

“If you want I can help you help to cook it.” She tried to sound confident but he could hear she was nervous.

"Why would you want to help me?” he asked and she replied.

“I don’t have anything to do and I really love cooking.” She smiled at him and he narrowed his eyes.

“Fine, you can help me.” He decided and she laughed.

“Ok, my shift ends in about 2 hours so you can come then. Pick some meals to cook in the meanwhile. Now go!”

“Wait! I don’t know what to call you.” He said and she replied quickly.

“It’s (Y/N). go before I change my mind about helping you.” He just shook his head and walked out of the store. ===== When (Y/N) turned off the lights in the shop, Loki was just coming into the ally way.

“So you ready to learn to cook?” she questioned and he nodded.

“Let’s get this done with so I can go back to Asgard and never come back here again.” She rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist and started to pull him towards her home.

“So my apartment is extremely messy and I’m sorry for that.” She confessed and Loki only grumbled.

“You midgardians, so fucking messy.” She glared at him and slowed down a little bit. They walked in silence and (Y/N) decided to spark up a conversation.

“What did you pick?” he looked at her confused.

”To cook. You were supposed to pick some meals to cook.” He opened his mouth in realization and spoke up.

“Well, I picked something for beginners so we wouldn’t have to spend hours in the kitchen.” She nodded and he continued.

“Some vegetable soup and pancakes with whipped whip cream, chocolate, and fruit.”

“Ok, I have everything for these things so we successfully avoided going into the supermarket.” He looked at her puzzled and she just continued.

“The seniors in this area are crazy. If their life depended on it, they will fight with you until death just to get the things that are on sale.” He chuckled and she smiled in his direction. ‘He has a pretty smile’ she thought but then shook her head. When they came into her apartment she kicked her shoes off and tossed her keys into the bowl on the dresser in her hallway. She shrugged off her coat and walked into her kitchen.

“Nox baby? Where are you?” she shouted into her apartment and Loki looked at her weirdly. In about a minute he could hear a quiet sound of legs scratching on the wooden floor.

“Hope you like cats.” She turned around to look at Loki and he smiled awkwardly. When Nox came into the kitchen he rubbed against (Y/N)’s feet and she crouched down.

Before she could pet him he ran towards Loki to inspect the man he has never seen before. He sniffed at his legs a little before Loki crouched down and put his finger out for the cat to sniff. (Y/N) just watched the interaction in awe.

When Loki looked up he saw her looking at him and he quickly said. “He’s not that bad.” But (Y/N) knew he secretly already had a soft spot for him.

“Okay I’m going to change into more comfortable clothes and we can start.” She left the room and came back in a couple of minutes wearing a tank top and black sweatpants.

“You want some clothes as well? I have some from when my friend was sleeping over.” He nodded and she went to pick them up.

“They will probably be a bit small because he isn’t as giant as you are.” She explained and he took her from her hands and went to change into the bathroom. When he came out she was already taking out all the utensils they will need. He tossed his clothes onto the couch and walked over to her in the kitchen.

“You have something I can tie my hair with?” he asked and she gave him the hair tie from her wrist.

”I always keep one on my wrist at all times, in case anyone needs one.” She informed him and he smiled. He put his hair in a bun and waited for her instructions.

“First cut the vegetables in cubes and put them into the pot. We are doing the healthier version so we won’t use flour.” He tried to keep up but was already failing miserably. When he cut up the carrots and potatoes and stirred them in the pot for a while, they put the water into it, and let it cook.

“Ok, now take out a plastic bowl from that cabinet and I’ll take out our ingredients.” She pointed to the cabinet and Loki complied. He never would’ve thought he would be taking orders from a Midgardian. He came back with a bowl and they put some eggs, flour, milk, and sugar into it. She handed him the whisk and he looked at her confused.

“Stir it I will be right back.” She went into a cabinet to take out some sunflower oil and a pan and put it on the stove to heat it up.

“You want to flip them?” she asked and he shook his head yes.

“I will flip the first one because it’s always messed up, no matter what you do.” She informed him and he looked very interested in all of the new information about cooking. She showed him how to flip pancakes and when to flip them and she went to check up on the soup.

She was washing the dishes from the cooking and their dinner when she heard a quiet snore. She went to look into her living room and she saw Loki and Nox sleeping on the armchair. She took a blanket and covered both of them with it and went back into the kitchen.

When she was done cleaning up, she put the newly cooked food into some containers and went to sleep in her bed. Before she did that, she checked up on Loki one more time and turned on a light on the other side of her living room in case he woke up and didn’t know where he was.

She woke up to the sound of quiet cursing. She rushed out of her bedroom to see Loki standing in the middle of the kitchen looking through cabinets.

“Good morning, what are you looking for?” she asked and he turned around looking alarmed.

“I was looking for some tea bags.” He informed her and she just shook her head and walked towards a shelf that contained her collection of tea.

”Here what kind do you want. I have fruit tea, green tea. Maybe black tea?” they both decided on black tea and went to sit in the living room.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked and she just shrugged.

“My cat was sleeping on you. Didn’t want him to wake up.” She said casually and he looked at the cat, who was fast asleep on the window.

“I… I wanted to thank you.” He started nervously.

“You helped me so much and it was really nice of you.” She looked to the ground and replied.

“It was no big deal. Honestly.” Loki stood up, looked around, and (Y/N) could read from his expression it was time for him to go.

“I’m going to heat up the food and prepare it so you can go.” He nodded and they both walked into the kitchen. =====

When she prepared everything she put the boxes on top of each other and waited for him to come out of the bathroom. He came out, handed her the borrowed clothes, and looked at her.

“Thank you again. For your help.” She waved her hand.

“It was no big deal, really.”

“You know, maybe your planet isn’t so bad after all.” He confessed and she put a hand on his shoulder.

“If you want to come and visit earth you can always come here and sleep over.” He smiled and nodded. He walked out of her apartment onto the street, looked into her window, waved at her, and just like that, he was gone.

He always thought that nothing could change his mind about Midgard but, maybe he found a reason he will learn to like the planet.

She changed his mind.

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so, thanks for reading my work, hope you enjoyed reading it. if you think I could improve something about my work, please share it with me. Also if you think I can make my writing more inclusive, please share that with me as well.

-Faye xxx

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #the avengers #loki friggason #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#loki fluff

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