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#seems to be fond of tea?
triptych-of-voids · 4 months
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I think Medic should keep adding limbs to his creation (have we asked them what they'd like to be called?), either until there's no space left, or until we reach the limit on how many limbs the human mind can control. Whichever comes first.
its really fascinating!! seems like the frankenanon can move its arms separately when trying, but the arms move mostly in unison when it isnt focusing on them!! more arms were tested and rejected because it didnt respond well and couldnt control them. besides, i might need those extra arms for other things
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kyouka-supremacy · 1 year
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The fact that it's CANON that Akutagawa doesn't take his coffee black is somehow ironically funny
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fragmentedblade · 2 months
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Not to be a jingfu on main, but it's so cute that Jing Yuan thought of Fu Xuan with those jelly beans
#me: the Xianzhou characters are all just coworkers#also me whenever anyone is shown to be fond and have intimate knowledge of some other character: awwww#Like Fu Xuan and Jing Yuan playing starchess and teasing each other or making a reference to things they like#or Jing Yuan talking about young Yukong#Quingque apparently disliking Fu Xuan but obviously that not being the case‚ knowing what she likes and how she thinks#Fu Xuan hiding that she has a sweet tooth but Jing Yuan and Quingque knowing it and teasing her for it#I don't know. There are a lot of instances of these small intimate details in the middle of what looks like a coworker relationship#Good coworkers‚ but coworkers nonetheless#And ironically it moves me so much? Even more so than Belobog. I've been told several times that Belobog seemed more tight. And I agree#In Belobog people were friends or family or companions but linked by something closer than mere coworkers with Wildfire#Even Sampo in the Underworld was strangely 'theirs'. He had the magenta colour of Wildfire and he was trusted to some extent#The Luofu characters don't have that. And yet the fragments of intimacy scattered through their interactions move me a lot#These are people who have known each other for centuries. Jing Yuan knows of Yukong's youth‚ its joy and grief#He knows Fu Xuan has a sweet tooth and teases her about her height. Quingque does too#Fu Xuan chastises both of them for being lazy but she knows they're smart and good at their job. She plays starchess with Jing Yuan#Quingque mocks Fu Xuan for being a workaholic but is very aware of the weight she carries both in her position and ideas about destiny#I won't mention Yanqing and Bailu because there is obviously more than a coworker bound when it comes to them#But yes I love the moments of intimate knowledge scattered through the Xianzhou‚ so telling of the fact that these people have known#each other for longer than several human lifetimes‚ and that perhaps they don't necessarily regard each other as more than their coworker#But perhaps that's enough in order for them to care. Perhaps in a lifetime over one thousand years the intimacy gained with a coworker#through several centuries is something beyond what we could understand in our decades lifespan#But also‚ perhaps‚ I don't know. Also‚ perhaps‚ the do care beyond coworkers in that strange line between work and friendship#Perhaps it's strange for Xianzhou natives to tell apart that kind of relationship after so much intimacy and knowledge through the years#And perhaps‚ once again‚ as it often happens for them‚ they think they'll always have enough time to tell; until they run out of it#They play chess together. Quingque can lose time because Fu Xuan can't stay mad if she brings her sweets. Are they just coworkers?#We play chess. I know what tea and sweets you like best. I brought them today since you would indulge me and play starchess with me#Thanks for playing with me‚ I'm running out of book puzzles. You keep divining my moves but I'll invent a fake story to distract you#Are we coworkers or something more like friends? Where is the line after so many years?#I talk too much but I love this charged nothingness haha I find it ironically so true to how many relationships in real life develop#And I find it so moving‚ that representation of this endearing smallness of everyday life. Of these small things is life made
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longagoitwastuesday · 2 years
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It is true that everyone likes each other (Jack praising Jonathan, Quincey calling Mina "little girl", the sibling bond promised between Art and her, Van Helsing being Mina's #3 fan), but the way Mina and Jack's blooming friendship is being written seems to bring back Lucy's first letter about him even explicitly at times. In perspective, the fact that Lucy thought he was right for Mina hadn't she found Jonathan already doesn't seem to be so much about Jack being an elegible bachelor due to his professional merits or good jawline (or not just so), but mainly about how well suited they'd be for each other. Even though she hadn't known Jack for long, Lucy truly knew him and Mina pretty well and foresaw they would be a good match.
#Dracula#Mina Murray#John Seward#Jack Seward#Lucy Westenra#About books#I talk too much#Because I'm going to tagquote a few lines:#'Mrs. Harker gave us a cup of tea and I can honestly say that for the first time since I have lived in it this old house seemed like home'#'this beats even shorthand!'#'poor dear Lucy was right about him'#'You're not the girl the doctor wanted to marry are you?'#'Oh no! I have a husband of my own to whom I was married before I ever saw Dr. Seward or he me'#'I did not trust you because I did not know you. But I know you now; and let me say that I should have known you long ago'#I know they all get along and come to love each other but these two read different to me. It makes me think that Lucy may have been right#That perhaps had they met before...('this beats even shorthand!')#The text seems intentional about it#Not in detriment of Jonathan and Mina's loving relationship#but as another insight to Lucy's personality and good sight as well as her deep knowledge and fondness for the people she cared for#I guess it's another endearing detail that in retrospect makes her loss even more painful to both the reader and the characters#and so believable that they all loved her and the extent to which they go through in big part for her#I haven't read this book in many years and I don't remember thinking or noticing this before#It may be the translation or the Dracula daily format#I have not been keeping up with it entirely only reading the entries I remember loving best but I'm growing more and more interested again#I may try to catch up for the last couple of months
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daysuntilnextaccident · 6 months
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i don't know whose bright idea it was to put fuckin raisins in this tea, but may i say...
...bravo
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hiraya-rawr · 1 year
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— oh and by the way im married (zhongli) .
synopsis !! zhongli neglects to inform his friends that he's married.
contains !! they/them reader but referred to as wife, comedic dialogue
Z H O N G L I
Perhaps it's the fact that you've been married for centuries that informing others didn't seem to be a priority for Zhongli.
It wasn't obvious either. He had his day job and you had yours. To regular couples, the amount of distance you two spend would be a little strange, but time is something you have in abundance so it didn't really matter when you spend a few days apart doing your day jobs.
It was Hutao who brought it up the on the evening's Lantern Rite dinner.
"Aiyaya, it seems like everybody alive and dead has a date for this year's lantern rite."
"Hahaha! And here we are celebrating a feast with new and old friends. It doesn't sound like much of a loss to me." Venti laugjs, pouring himself a drink that threatens to overflow from his hand.
"I'm not saying it's a loss, I'm simply wondering wouldn't some of you want to spend the night with a special someone?" She smirks, eyes scanning the group. Chongyun coughs into his cup as Xiao averts his gaze from the troublemaker.
"If you're asking for my opinion, I'd say everyone here is quite special to me," Lumine smiles warmly before glancing at the two archons and yaksha, "I'm sure there's still time for dating in the future. We're not that old."
"Well. . ." Hutao turns to Zhongli. He raises a brow, placing down his cup.
"May I ask why you're staring at me, Director Hu?"
"No reason~ It's just, as your boss, of course I'm a little bit concerned. Aren't you wasting your youth by not going out on dates, mister Zhongli? I'm sure there's a line of Liyuens who would love to–"
A burst of laughter comes from the green bard. "Oh, him? On a Lantern Rite date with someone else? (Name) would surely kill him."
"(Name)?" Everyone questions.
"Huh? He didn't tell you?" Venti tilts his head.
Zhongli coughs, "Ah. . . Please don't be concerned about my dating life, Director Hu. After all, I am already married."
Silence.
A cup drops.
Tea spills (literally).
Then,
"Married?!" The restaurant shakes as Hutao and Lumine jolt upright, hands slamming the table.
"Married." Zhongli confirms.
"What! For how long? When? What's their name? Why have you never–"
Zhongli hushes, trying to calm his boss from jumping over the table. His face dusts a light pink, perhaps embarrassed by the whole ordeal.
"For a few. . . years now. As you know, they're (Name). And as for why I never mentioned my wife. . ." He glances at the crowd, ". . . I simply forgot."
"You. . . forgot," Xingqiu slowly repeats.
"Yes, it seems I've forgotten to inform everyone. Then again, is it not obvious that I'm a married man?"
Chongyun covers his face in his hands, processing the whole ordeal, "Thinking back. . . mister Zhongli always had a domestic kind of aura. It seems so obvious now."
"Wait, wait, wait! How come I didn't know about this? We work together almost everyday! And why does Venti know! Didn't you two just met! Do you even have a ring?" Hutao interjects, flabbergasted as Zhongli and Venti freezes.
In truth, he does have a ring. One he carved himself made of only the most precious of jade and metal. It has rested under his glove for centuries—
Under his glove also hides his draconic arms, golden veins against dark brown, almost scale-like skin. Proof of a entity greater than human.
"Ehe. . . about that," Venti nervously looks away, "I've actually. . . met his wife before!" He covers up, voice laced with enthusiasm.
"Yes, yes, my wife is quite fond of Mondstadt's songs. They've frequently visited the nation before."
"And you don't come along?" Xiangling asks.
"I don't."
The group blinks.
"And what about the ring? I never see you wear a wedding ring." Hutao narrows her eyes.
"That's because I don't wear it." He answers bluntly.
". . . and you never introduced them to us because. . .?" Lumine questions.
"Because . . . I haven't had the time to?"
Hutao rests back on her chair, her eyes glazed in judgment, "No offense mister Zhongli, but you seem like a terrible husband. If you don't get your act straight, I'd say your marriage won't last."
His jaw drops. Venti laughs.
|| ko-fi support / character m.list ||
~ bonus ~
"Darling, am I a terrible husband?"
"No? What makes you think that?"
"No reason. Although I believe we should try dating publicly."
tumblr has been deleting my last paragraphs why
//for some reason tumblr has been deleting my last lines in drafts so i have to type this so my last sentences wont get deleted
"No reason. But perhaps it's about time I show you off to the public more."
ko-fi support | character m.list
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reticent-writer · 3 months
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Spiral p1
warnings: a bit violent, shitty parents
(it doesn't go into details)
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✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿ 
"You killed your parents?" He was genuinely shocked as he watched you nod. He lived for tea like this but coming from you he couldn't help but be confused.
"Why on earth would you do that. You told me that you loved them."
"I mean I did but they were- wait my death led to yours?" You changed the subject.
"Yes, I simply cannot function without you, my dear. I was hiding a body in the woods when I was shot in the head." He said it as if it was a fond memory. It was creepy but as he talked a red X appeared on his forhead. the moment he saw you staring it vanished.
"You can't change the subject, Y/n. When and Why did you kill your parents?"
You sighed as you went to tell your story, "They were an odd pair, in my opinion, they should have been divorced. My mother was drunk, always talking about how she never liked my father but had 6 kids with him, I was the eldest. My father always talked about the life he could've had if he didn't settle for my mother. When my father lost his job he became a drunk and often got violent with us. After a while, I got tired of it and told my siblings to go to a friend's house for the night. The next day they were found dead by the neighbor's, No one was caught."
"That must've been quite a night." He joked.
"It was, it was also the night I met you."
"Really? You seemed so.... happy."
"Because I was."
From then on the two of you talked daily
You had learned that he had been missing from the public eye for 7 years
He started calling you pet names he used when he was alive
He told you things he would never tell anyone else
You met husk and niffty
You started to like him again but you could never forgive him for killing you
nut you considered it when he started working for the hazbin hotel
You were a patron
Although you didn't believe that sinners can change you decided to give it a shot
"Well good morning, My love. It's such a nice day today, would you care to join me for a trip to the tailor? A nobody took a bit off me." He grinned from ear to ear while offering his arm of you to take. You accepted.
At the tailor the two of you while the two of you were waiting for his jacket you suggested he try on more suits for a variety of clothes.
"How does with one look?" He came out in a blue suit with a black button-up. (his colors in reverse)
"You look amazing." You beamed as his posed.
"So this is a yes?"
"Of course-"
"Sir your jacket is ready."
Alastor paid for the new suit and his old one. Outside of the shop was a crowd surround a tv broadcasting Vox.
Alastor told you practically nothing about the other overlords but you could tell he did not like Vox and the way he looked at the TV confirmed it.
"Come along, dear. There's nothing to see over there."
✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿ 
Alastor beefing with Lucifer and cursing is so funny to me💀
Taglist: @berryghostbunny, @lorkai, @mygoldtears, @kawaiiskeletoneggsnerd, @secretkoalapersona-blog, @koji-akeme, @lofasofabread , @msyolocat-blog, @elementress44, @luujjvi, @justmare
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maehemthemisfit · 10 months
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THINKING ABOUT HOW...
Whenever you lay on TIGHNARI'S lap, his tail always seems to end up resting over your neck. It smells good from all the oils he lathers on it, and it keeps you warm. He likes when you card your fingers through his fur, it's calming, and whenever you stop he immediately knows the battle to keep your eyes open was lost to slumber. More often then not, you'll wake up to his tail tickling your chin or just straight up smacking you in the face. Sometimes it's intentional, but it's more like a pillow being thrown in your face.
KAZUHA would always be prepared if you ever experienced sea sickness in his travels, teyvat's equivalent of ginger ale and crackers quite literally on deck. He'll hold your hair back if you ever throw up and brew you herbal teas to drive the nausea away. He'll also rub comforting circles on your stomach if you give him permission, kissing away the pain and reassuring that you'll reach land soon.
If you're insistent enough, CYNO would let you play in his hair. His job is quite stressful, so feeling your fingers glide through his hair would literally put him to sleep most times. He might leave a braid or two you made in his hair and play with it whenever he thinks about you. He'll also show it off to Tighnari.
XIAO can't help but hide his face whenever you trace the markings on his arm or stomach (it's canon idc). He questions why you find the act so amusing and when you pull away he instinctively pulls your hand back, then becomes all bashful when he realized what he did. Is quick to urge you to continue and say "W-Why you'd stop? I never said I was against it..." Or something along those lines.
The Aranaras are always dancing around WANDERER no matter the occasion. They're always on his heel and you often spot him running away from a group of them, "Quit following me!" Leaving his lips. It's hilarious. He'll invite you for some tea and one of them would be perched on his head with that dopey smile :] He's exhausted, but he's secretly fond of them, especially the one you said looked similar to him (the blue one with the pretty hat), though he'll never admit it.
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𓋜 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. ꒱ 𖥔 ° . *
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dewdropdinosaur · 1 month
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Green May Be His Color
ALASTOR x READER
Summary: Alastor has a crush on you and gets...shall we say - possessive.
Warnings: Make-out scene and implied smut. Rating PG-13
For the dearest @anon-of-the-void
REQUESTS OPEN
In the bustling underworld of Hell, where demons and overlords roamed freely and the souls of the damned wander, there existed a peculiar yet charming figure known as Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon. With his toothy grin, a penchant for chaos and macabre humor, he was a force not to be trifled with. Except by one. 
Amidst his devilish and intimidating face, there lay a side and secrets only known to one other: Rosie, a fellow overlord and Alastor’s best and one of few friends. Rosie was well-acquainted with the inner workings of Alastor's mind, particularly his peculiar fascination with a certain dead mortal soul named Y/N. Y/N was unlike any other sinner, with a charm that transcended the boundaries of Hell itself. She had caught Alastor's attention with her old fashioned wit and grace, though he dared not confess his infatuation with the cannibal town resident.
Little did Alastor know, his affections were not as clandestine as he believed. With mischief gleaming in her eyes, Rosie concocted a devious plan to bring the two together.Rosie, with her sharp wit and mischievous nature, saw an opportunity for amusement. She knew of Y/N's fondness for tea and gossip, often indulging in such pastimes with Rosie herself. 
One evening, as the flames danced in the infernal sky, Rosie extended an invitation to both Y/N and Alastor for a tea gathering at her lavish abode. Unbeknownst to Y/N, Rosie had already informed Alastor of the rendezvous, igniting a spark of excitement within the Radio Demon's heart.
As Y/N arrived, her presence brought a sense of warmth to the dimly lit room. She greeted Rosie with a warm smile, unaware of the scheming glint in her friend's eyes. Alastor, ever the gentleman, tipped his hat in acknowledgment, his crimson eyes alight with hidden desire at the more free flowing attire his secret paramore was wearing. 
The tea flowed freely as conversation drifted from trivial matters to the depths of the underworld. Rosie, with her quick wit, subtly steered the discussion towards matters of the heart, all the while casting knowing glances at Alastor. The Radio Demon, though adept at masking his emotions, felt a tinge of unease stir within him. He knew what Rosie was playing at and was thankful for the oblivious nature of his crush. 
As the evening progressed, Rosie's playful banter grew more pronounced, her words laced with feigned flirtation directed at Y/N. Alastor, unable to contain his jealousy any longer, felt the inferno of emotions raging within him. With a sharp inhale, he rose from his seat, his gaze locking onto Y/N's. Rosie, with her devilish grin, played her part to perfection. She engaged Y/N in playful banter, leaning in a tad too close, and fluttering her lashes in feigned innocence. Alastor, observing from the sidelines with a mix of amusement and jealousy, felt his heartstrings tug tighter with each passing moment.
As Rosie's antics escalated, to actually near caress and Y/N embracing her friend back - Alastor's patience wore thin. Unable to contain his emotions any longer, he stepped forward, his presence commanding the attention of both Rosie and Y/N. With a flourish of his cane, he rose and coughed loudly. 
“Pardon me ladies, may I borrow you for a moment Y/N? I wish to discuss something outside.”
“Oh..of course Alastor. One moment Rosie.”
Placing their cup down on the side table, Y/N rose and followed Alastor down a long hallway till he stopped abruptly. 
In a moment of recklessness born from desperation, Alastor pinned Y/N against the nearby wall - encasing them between his arms as closed the distance between them in a swift motion, his lips capturing Y/N's in a fervent kiss. The room fell silent as time seemed to stand still, the air thick with anticipation.
After the kiss, Y/N's heart raced with a mixture of surprise and warmth. She pulled back slightly, meeting Alastor's intense gaze. Each one’s breath heavily with affection and lust.
“Alastor... I... I didn't expect…”
Alastor, his crimson eyes ablaze with a possessive fervor, cut her off before she could finish. “Expectation is for the mundane, my dear. But your presence in this infernal realm has ignited a spark within me that defies logic and convention.” 
“I suppose love has a way of doing that, even in Hell.”
Alastor's jaw tightened, a flicker of jealousy crossing his features as he glanced towards Rosie, who observed the scene with a knowing smirk and a low growl. 
“That infernal minx... She knew exactly what she was doing, toying with my affections like that.”
Y/N chuckled, placing a reassuring hand on Alastor's arm “It's alright, Alastor. Rosie's just... playful, you know?”
Alastor's grip on his cane tightened, his frustration evident as he struggled to rein in his emotions, gritting his teeth.
“Playful or not, I won't stand for anyone else trying to claim what's rightfully mine.”
Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his possessive declaration, a blush spreading across her cheeks as she whispered softly, staring at his lips. 
“And what exactly do you consider to be "yours," Alastor?”
Alastor's gaze softened, the fiery intensity giving way to a tender warmth as he reached out to cup Y/N's cheek.
“You, my dear. Your laughter, your company, your... affection. All of it. It belongs to me, and me alone.”
Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her eyes locked with Alastor's in a silent exchange of understanding and acceptance.
“Well then, I suppose you'll just have to keep me close, won't you?”
Alastor's lips curled into a devilish smirk, his possessiveness giving way to a newfound sense of determination as he leaned in close once more. 
“Oh, you can count on it, my dear. I intend to keep you closer than anyone else ever could.” Slamming his lips back into hers, that hallway ended up being taken of its innocence. 
And as Rosie listened on with a satisfied smirk, she knew that her mischief had borne fruit, paving the way for a love that defied the very fabric of their world.
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chastiefoul · 6 months
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giving them flowers ft. genshin characters
featuring: wriothesley, neuvilette, scara, xiao, kaveh tags: fluff random notes: wriothesley is my new obsession
wriothesley
“wrio,” you sang out as you took the last step of the stair leading up to his office, finding him at his usual spot; buried in paperwork with a cup of tea loyal on his desk. upon the sight of you, his face lit up a little. “now the guards just let you right in hm? well it’s no wonder, you’re quite the charmer after all,” he said, his tone playful. you approached him, rolling your eyes. “please, the moment the news spread that i am ‘involved’ with the duke no one was brave enough to mess with me.” wrio chuckled, not denying the fact, as he also did not forget to remind the guards that you have the freedom to do whatever you wanted within the premises.
wrio just hummed in approval, as you went and sit on his lap. “i noticed the pretty things on your hand there, who’s it for?” he asked as he put a hand around your waist, the gesture tickled you a little. “for you.” you smiled. “for me to give sigewinne? i’m pretty sure i’ve told you where she usually is,” he raised an eyebrow, the clueless expression was as clear as day. “silly, it’s for you. this flower is yours.”
he stared at the bouquet of aster flowers on your hand, taking it carefully. somehow for a moment his gaze seemed a bit distant, like seeing through a passing memory. “how lovely,” he smiled to himself, your heart squeezed a little. “indeed they are,” you said softly.
“and you, too.” the lingering gaze landed on you, his piercing icy-blue eyes that’s usually sharp was somehow warm and gentle. he continued, “the loveliest.”
--
“i was worried when i saw you with that flowers that i might have one of those things you often read and told me in your books, ‘love rival’ is that it?”
you laughed. “really? you, worried?”
“hmm well, i did say i could fight.”
neuvilette
“neuvi?” you called to him as you peeked your head from behind his office door. “(y/n)? such a pleasant surprise, what brings you here?” he smiled softly, leaving his desk to approach you. “i had sometime before work and i wanted to give you this.”
you revealed a bouquet of bluebells from your back.
neuvi’s eyes widened slightly at the object.
“do you like it?” you asked hesitantly after seeing his lack of reaction. neuvilette snapped out of it, noticing the restlessness on your feature as he said, “i love it, i will cherish it.” relief washed over you as you did not detect the sign of him lying about it as he gazed the bouquet with such tenderness. “although, to what do i owe the pleasure of receiving such nice gesture?”
“nothing at all, i happened to see it on the way here and seeing the petals just reminded me of you a little.” you said, keeping the true meaning of the flowers to yourself. “oh? how so?” neuvilette asked, genuinely curious but also enthusiastic over what you said. you quietly chuckled to yourself. “what more do you want me to say? obviously the flowers are so beautiful, very much like yourself.” you smiled teasingly, a little wide for it to be genuine.
the subtlest pink painted his cheek bone at your unexpected response. “only you would compliment me with such words, (y/n),” he shook his head in wonderment, his little smile betrayed his attempt in acting aloof. “you mean the only one that’s bold enough to say it directly to your face, if you refuse to believe it i could go right now and gather enough people to march in here to chant that the iudex of fountaine is so very beau-“
he coughed in bashfulness, the color on his cheeks became more apparent. “love.. it is also only you who’s so fond of teasing me. please perish that ridiculous idea from your head,” he said, his tone feeble and pleadful, something you knew he did only in front of you. you laughed lovingly at his reaction, “i’m sorry, i just couldn’t help it. but you truly are beautiful, neuvilette.”
“dear please.. no need for further flattery, you already have me.” he let out a sigh, shaking his head at your shameless flirting. “it’s not flattery, it’s the truth.  i am allowed to compliment my lover whenever i wanted, no?” you smiled. neuvilette once again sigh in defeat. “i suppose that’s alright, so long you let me do the same towards you.”
scara
“what is this..?” he stared at the sunflowers on his hand. “okay so when someone waters a seed and fertilize them-“
he scoffed, “you know what i meant.”
“it’s a gift.” you answered curtly, as if the whole thing doesn’t need a further explanation, and it really didn’t it’s just a certain grumpy gremlin demanded it. “did you do something wrong?” he eyed you suspiciously and you’d hit this man if he wasn’t so endearing. “god why are you saying it like i’m a bad person or something, you know what? i’m taking it back.” you said as you made no attempt of reaching out yet he shielded the flowers with his arms anyway.
“i never said i didn’t want it. also it’s mine now, have you no shame taking back what you’ve given?” he narrowed his eyes at you, and returned his attention to the object at hand.
“a ‘thank you’ still works just fine, you know?” you said, having a hard time holding back a grin by his hard attempt not to show that he liked the gift. his gaze rested on the flower for another minute, as if reminiscing something. “i just... no one really ever...” he said with a voice barely above a whisper; a moment of weakness where he sounded vulnerable.
“i’ll just have to give you many more of it then,” you smiled at him, for a second you swore he looked excited. “you don’t have to, i have no use of this.” he said, sounding like he didn’t mean a single word he said. you raised an eyebrow at him.
“although.. ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ.”
xiao
“i didn’t bring your almond tofu today, but instead i wanted to give you this,” you said, handing him the iris flowers. “flowers..?” he tilted his head, wanting you to elaborate as to why you gave him that. what’s the occasion? where did you get them? why are you giving them to him?
“i just thought you’d like it, do you?” you smiled unsurely. “i.. don’t mind it however, such vibrant and lively things, it fits you more,” he said nonchalantly, as if what he just said didn’t make your heart do a backflip. “you’re looking at it the wrong way. even after surviving storms and rains, flowers stood tall proudly through it all—and that’s why i think it resembles you way more,” you said confidently.
xiao was quiet at your words, before letting out a rare soft smile. “if you feel that way so strongly, i have no choice but to believe it, then.”
kaveh
“for me!?” he asked excitedly at the bouquet of tulips. you nodded just as excited. “oh i love this so much, it would go so well on my desk after i put them on a vase,” he said, his eyes glistened with joy. “if i knew you’re going to be this excited i would’ve gotten them sooner.”
“no harm done my love, i am just beyond happy you thought of me.” he smiled, giving you a kiss on your cheek. “now, won’t you help me pick a container to put these flowers in?” he said, already taking your hand and leading you to his collection of things. “you say that but everytime we do this it’s always you picking different stuff up while you demand for my words of affirmation,”  you said, holding back a smile. “and?” kaveh raised an eyebrow, “and i love it, of course.” you laughed.
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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year
Note
could you do hc’s for the 141 + könig with a reader who has iron deficiency anemia? like maybe readers iron drops to a low level and they nearly faint and they take care of them after?
Ooh! I can relate! Except I haven’t fainted but I’ve definitely gotten close lmao whoops
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
My man has both eyes on you at all times, especially if you’ve told him you woke up with a headache that morning
He’s watching you to make sure you’re taking care of yourself but when advil doesn’t touch your headache, he starts to worry
I personally headcanon him as being hands off but always close, so he won’t be fretting about you, he gives you the space and the chance to decide when you need help
But when you start walking a little lopsided, with a hand against the wall for support, he’s sprinting towards you, his heart is hammering in his chest as he catches you before you lean a little too far off to the side
“Alright, back to bed with you.”
“Si, I’m fine.”
“I look like I’m muckin’ about? Bed. Now.”
It’s one of the few times he’ll assert himself when it comes to your well-being, not his fault you gave him a fright, darling!
Soon enough, he’s back at your side with a sandwich and some juice, he’s not sure what happened but some food is a good place to start, he crawls in bed next to you as your eating and turns on the tv to whatever you’re feeling (he’s particularly fond of Bake Off, so he won’t be opposed if that’s what you choose)
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
When you woke up that morning massaging your temples, he was a little worried but he shooed your hands away and started massaging your temples and your scalp instead, kissing the side of your head
It seemed to help a little bit but it wasn’t enough to chase the thrumming pain away, still it wasn’t that bad so you decided to go about your day regardless
That wouldn’t stop him from checking up on you every chance he had, he’d laugh when you elbow him and jokingly tell him to back off, he’d pull you against him and kiss the crown of your head
“Not on your life, bonnie.”
But then he saw you tumble to the side a little bit, arm reaching out to balance yourself and he was at your side in a heartbeat, steadying you by wrapping his arm around your shoulders and holding you against him,
“Alright, hen?”
“Yeah just a little dizzy that’s all.”
“More than just a little I’d say. Come on, let’s get you in bed and I’ll get you some food, aye?”
“But it’ll mess up the bed.”
“Then don’t be messy.” He winked and kissed the side of your head, you shoved him playfully before clinging to him again. Sure enough, you’re back in bed with Soap, half eaten sandwich on the nightstand, both of you back asleep with the tv lulling you even deeper.
John Price:
Sweet man doesn’t let you leave the bed for anything as soon as you tell him you have a headache
“Don’t bother liftin’ a finger, darlin’. Shout if you need anything.” He kisses your forehead and leaves a glass of water, a cup of tea, and some headache medicine, he’s in the other room if you need anything
At some point, you get bored and decide to do some chores you’ve been putting off for a while, so you’re folding laundry when John walks back in the room
“What’re you doin’, thought I told you to shout.”
“I’m not gonna shout at you put away the laundry, especially when I’m the one that started it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you know I love it when you shout.” He teased, you threw the tshirt in your hands at him with a laugh and a blush, he caught it with ease and started to move to put it away
He saw you take an unsteady step back with an arm outreached to balance you out, in two long strides he was at your side, gripping your arm to steady you
“Right. Enough of that, back you go.”
“John-”
“Don’t you ‘John’ me, back in.” He’s guiding you back in bed and coming back in the room with some fruits and a sandwich, he’s not leaving your side until you’ve eaten all of it. And when you’re done, he kisses your forehead and crawls in bed with you. Nothing wrong with a lazy day.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:
He’s so extra omg as soon as you tell him you’ve got a headache, he’s wrapping you in your favorite blanket, brewing a cup of your favorite tea, he’s got you sitting on the couch, buried in blankets, and he’s got Uber Eats pulled up and ready for you to order
“Babe it’s just a headache, I’m not dying.”
“Irrelevant. Just order something, yeah? My treat.” He winked at you. You share a checking account. He loves making that joke. (So do I)
He walks away and comes back with your tea and some medicine, “No love of mine is going to have a headache and not be spoiled.”
On your way back from the bathroom, you start the feel the walls spin and the floor slip away from you. You called out to him and he was there in a heartbeat, he gently and slowly picked you up and carried you back to the couch
“Aren’t you glad you’ve got me here for you?”
“Don’t get an ego, just shut up and keep taking care of me.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He kissed your cheek with a big wet smooch and went to grab the door for your order, he settled next to you on the sofa and started laying out the food for you.
König:
Much like Ghost, he lets you get up and be about on your own but he hovers much closer
He gets you some medicine and some water, and he brings you those fruit gummies you love so much too
He’s ok with you moving about but he’s always close by, and by close I mean he’s attached at the hip (just bump him away with your hip and he’ll laugh enough to let you be for a little bit)
In one of those moments you managed to successfully bump him away from you, your dizziness seemed to hit. You nearly dropped the dishes in your hands as you took a few steps to the side, König was there in seconds to get you steady again
He took the dishes from your hands and gently put them in the sink,
“Come now, schatz, rest, please.”
“Köni, I’m fine, I promise.”
“Nonsense. Bed. Now.”
He never used that tone with you (ok maybe sometimes but this isn’t that context), so you supposed you wouldn’t fight him on it. Not that you could but you appreciated that he gave you the option.
So he carried you to bed, your gentle, sweet, mountain of a man, and set you down, burying you in blankets. He crawled beside you and started running his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp, peppering kisses on your cheeks.
Before you knew it, you’ve dozed off in his arms and he’s kissing the crown of your head.
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quimichi · 6 months
Note
do you still do twisted wonderland requests? if so can i request self aware dorm leaders being called "good boy"??
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『 ↳✧・゚ CALLING THE DORM LEADERS YOUR GOOD BOY ;
Dorm Leaders x Creator!Reader
Riddle - Off with your head!
"Do you enjoy your tea?"
"Mm. The tea is most delicious, Yuu. " Riddle speaks with the utmost sincerity, his words sweet and grateful. Even though his tea cup has long been empty since he finished it, he holds it in his hand, his gaze fixed on it lovingly. He looks up at you, his head still bowed in worship, adoration. He smiles, his eyes warm and bright, all of his adoration and fondness directed towards you.
"Im glad my good boy likes his tea" you smile warmly at him before sipping at your own tea again. Riddle's smile widens, and he bows his head further.
Your good boy.
He looks up at you, his worship and fondness directed towards you, and he speaks, his voice soft and low.
"Thank you, Yuu. I adore you, you know?"
"I adore you, Riddle" his face flushes as he sits before you. He bows his head and lowers his gaze like he always does at your touch, but, with his skin now slightly red, he smiles softly to himself.
He shifts slightly. This feels so safe here.
"As long as you adore me, Your Grace… I am complete." At least one person treats him right in his life, unlike HIS MOTHER.
Leona - The king, huh…?
"Enjyoing your nap?" "Huh?" Leona glances around. He was indeed enjoying a peaceful nap before the sudden voice. Leona is often sleeping when you see him, but that is partly because he spends most of his time in your room. He sleeps there more than anywhere else.
He stretches, his limbs feeling heavy as he wakes up. He yawns, and nods his head as he responds. "Oh, yes. I was." "Did my good boy at least sleep well?"
"Yes," he says immediately, a flush spreading over his cheeks. He hates how much emotional control you had gained over him in the past month's. And damn you for calling him that…"I did."
He is embarrassed to admit that his night had been pleasant and pleasant dreams had come to visit him while he slept. His dreams are often full of your voice, your face, and sometimes even your touch.
These thoughts send his heart into overdrive in an instant. Fuck you for making him falling for you. You damn herbivore.
He is utterly enraptured by you. There's a strange glint in his eyes, an intensity that burns deep into his soul. Need, greed, want.
"Hm," he nods slowly, the only word he can manage before turning around in your bed and going back to sleep.
Azul - How poor and unfortunate you are
Azul's eyes flicker with uncertainty, but he would never hesitate to obey your instructions. Come closer to you…its simple, yet so hard. "Yes," he whispers, and he rises to come to you. His feet are swift and silent as he crosses the space separating you, his eyes ever vigilant for your every command.
"Sit with me" you said gentle. Despite whatever doubts Azul may have had moments before, they are quickly forgotten as soon as you command him to sit. Without another word, he lowers himself to sit beside you in obedience. His lips curve into a small smile as he gazes at you, happy to be near you.
Luckily Jade and Floyd aren't around, if they would, he already would've been teased into the ground.
"Youre my good boy aren't you Azul~?" with your hand on his cheek, your hot breath on his ear, who is he to say disagree. Once again, Azul flinches at your approval, but he can't disagree. "Of course, Yuu" he answers in a soft voice.
He smiles at you, and you can almost swear he's a child in his demeanor. He is utterly and completely devoted to you. Your approval is like the sun in the sky to him.
"I'm your good boy."
Kalim - Sing, dance!
"You seem tired" your soft voice lurrs him to you, he wants nothing more to lay in your arms now. "Yes," Kalim mumbles before trailing off. He blinks as if the idea hadn't occurred to him before. That party maybe was…a little to much
Yet, the moment the thought comes to him, it is the only feeling that consumes him; he is consumed with the weariness of his day.
Kalim's eyelids close, as if he has only now realized that he should have been sleeping this whole time, and he leans forward to rest his head on your lap.
"I… wish to sleep," he whispers, "with you…"
"My good boy can finally sleep now" At your command, kalims's eyes flutter closed, and he allows himself to settle into a much-needed sleep.
The only sound he emits from that point onward is a low, contented hum as he falls into the deep, peaceful slumber that you have granted him. After all his favorite pillows will always be your thighs. You wouldnt mind sitting there all night just for him to rest comfortably, although Jamil would lecture you both the next morning.
But Kalim couldn't care less, as he falls asleep with the lovliest words ever said to him echoing in his mind, good boy
Vil - Every rose has its thorn. But isn't that part of their charm?
"Rough day?" Of course he had a rough day, once again Neige seems to be better fkmor everyine else again. He didn't get the model job he so long waited for "Yes," Vil replies, gracefully dropping in front of his mirror. There is a tension to his tone, as if there is something he wants to say but cannot bring himself to admit. He looks up at you, his gaze sharp and piercing as if trying to gauge some kind of mood.
He gently removes his make up before he speaks again "I cannot… I mean…"
"I," Vil tries again. He bites his lip, and his gaze flicks back to his thighs. His fists are clenched, and he fights back the urge to punch something, anything, to let out the frustration.
His voice is barely above a whisper, but you can hear him. If only he could articulate what needs to be said. If only he did not choke on his words, as if something is caught in his throat.
"How long," he rasps, "until I'm worthy enough for everyone?"
You careful went over to him and hug his back while looking into his eyes trough the morror, "My good boy, youre more than enough for me.." Vil sighs, the sound of release escaping his lips. He can feel his chest loosen along with the tension that he'd been holding onto, and the anxiety that had been building up seems to melt away with the hug.
Nobody in this world is as perfect as you.
Idia - Dun-da-da-da-dun! Level up!
"Are you busy right now?" Idias eyes flick up from the computer screen, startled as he hears your voice. He doesn't dare to speak unless he is spoken to, he feels like if he'd start the conversation instead odf you it'll turn out horrible.
His expression is one filled with worry; worried that you find him inadequate, worried that he'll fail you. The weight of all his worries is starting to become too much for him to handle, and it shows on his face. "I uhm…was just fighting the last boss on this quest"
"Would you mind if i watch?" Idia looks up at you, eyes wide.
He can barely breathe, such is his joy at the possibility of spending time with you. He nods, a soft smile breaking out on his face. He seems so different than the introverted person everyone knows him — he's softer, happier, and more at ease now that he's with you. "Whoa, my good boy is so goof at this" you mumbled to yourself, but you also made sure he heard you. He deserves the praise after all
Idia's eyes fill with shook, but they spark with joy when you praise him. His smile only broadens, to outstanders it may look, manic.
The way you're soft voice was calling him that had his heart pounding for you for eternity.
Malleus - You aren't afraid of me. But I'm starting to become afraid…of losing you.
"Did you enjoy this walk?" "M-Yes, indeed…" Malleus mumbles, his body nearly melting at your touch of your hands touching. The soft sound of his voice is almost enough to make you forget that you've already reached Ramshackle. For a moment, he seems almost… bashful. When he speaks, he glances down at you with soft, adoring eyes.
It takes you a moment to realize that his cheeks are still flushed pink- it's rare to see such a reaction from Malleus. In fact, you've never seen him look quite so… flustered.
"Im glad my good boy enjoyed himself"
"You… you think I'm your good boy?" Malleus murmurs softly, staring down at you from beneath his eyelashes. His voice is almost a purr in its softness. "You want… you want me to stay with you forever?"
Malleus is trembling in your hold, but it has nothing to do with his anger or anything, its excitement. He cannot muster the energy or strength to do anything but stare down at you, breath hitching. Your question has turned his thoughts to mush. His mind is elsewhere entirely-- but with you nearby, he isn't opposed to staying as close as he can.
"Marry me…" he breathes.
"Wha-"
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iceunhie · 3 months
Text
indirect kiss moments !
summary: you drink from their cup on accident = the realization that you may or may not have shared an indirect kiss. how do they feel about that? too flustered beyond belief, it seems....
featuring: part one (here) - kazuha, wanderer | part two - albedo, neuvillette, alhaitham
notes: not exactly established relationship, crush crush hehe, fluffy, my two anemo faves in one post.... loud gasp effect in the background (pls don't perceive this as my betrayal to the other anemos they'll have their turn soon i promise 🫡)
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WANDERER — (in/ex)ternally flustered as fuck + has stopped working
wanderer doesn't think he has a heart, but the way the void in his chest thumps for but a flicker of a moment proves him quite wrong.
why, you ask? it's all because of you.
he resists the urge to snap, terribly so, but out of being flustered more than anything, not irritation. because there is absolutely no way for him to properly process these turn of events with even a hint of rationality. you seem to be promptly ignorant of the whirring of thoughts in his mechanical head. ignorant of his rather foolish situation of going irrational and borderline idiotic.
all because of a damn indirect kiss.
his eyes lift from where he's burning holes onto the cup you're holding—his cup, he corrects, and lingers embarrassingly long (too long) on your lips. he tries not to fight the way heat creeps up his skin, synthetic yet all too real (perhaps like his own, untouched feelings); he thinks he might be red in the face. horribly red, thinking that oh no, he’s faced with the egregious notion that he may be too (very) obvious with how his reaction to your simple action betrays his secret fondness for your existence. most troubling.
it's fine, he tries to rationalize, he's got to relax. it was but a sip of tea. tea he so carefully procured and offered with much reluctance that was more feigned than anything else. tea he only drank because he heard in passing about your preference for it, very, very sweet tea he wouldn't normally drink, he notes with faint distaste—the things he lets you get away with—
….and then you lick your lips to savor the taste.
if the traveler hadn't showed him a taste of an almost death, then he thinks this might just be how he falls.
[ spoiler alert: he ends up hastily getting up to leave after pouring you another refill, muttering curses that would certainly alarm the average civilian. fast as light; if only to hide the utter mess that was his face. red, breathless (even though he doesn't need to breathe) and disgustingly, horribly flustered.
you’d better do your best to calm his self-imposed brooding— he isn't going to tell you anything about what exactly made him fluster this much. best of luck. ]
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KAZUHA — flustered, but smiling like a lovesick fool (wants to write endless haikus about this)
kazuha is drunk, both in love and on the sake that burns his throat in a pleasant blend of sweet and strong.
it all started with your request to drink from his cup. you ordered a different drink from him while the crew of the crux were celebrating beidou’s birthday. even now, the sound of laughter and drunken slurring fills the night, a slow and, if he has to be frank, tone-deaf melody of a simple happy birthday echoing in the air. of course, being as drunk in love (beidou’s words) as he is, kazuha didn't even hesitate at all to give you a sip.
…and it just so happens that you managed to drink at the exact place he drank from earlier.
small mercies come in the form of playing off the intense blush of his face and chalking it up to the effects of the wine and sake. kazuha isn't one to be flustered easily, but he must admit this one elicited no light reaction from him, no matter how much he may downplay its impact.
perhaps it was delusional, but was there not a tradition about drinking from each other's cups like this that could symbolize marriage….?
oh dear, the alcohol was getting to him, and fast.
[ spoiler alert: the next day, when you wake up with a sore headache and an achy body and an extremely clingy kazuha, try not to be confused when he mentions something like kissing you in the haze of his sleep.
the following week will also make you subject to two things: 1) an increasingly clingy kazuha (see above), and 2) dozens upon dozens of haikus left at your home, along with silkflowers of innumerable count you’d think he'd plucked the entire lot of them. you never did know why kazuha had become even sweeter (was that even possible...?) all of a sudden. ]
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[९] 2024 © iceunhie :: do not copy or use my works.
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wesstars · 3 days
Text
crush
cairo sweet x fem!reader (no pronouns used)
summary: when cairo goes home, what comes to mind are thoughts of you. wc: 2.3k tags: explicit, minors DNI!! all characters 18+. university au. masturbation, smoking, non-linear narrative. reader is cairo’s teaching assistant, reader described as masc presenting. a/n: let me know what y’all think :) for the vibes
masterlist
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“Is Professor Miller not coming?” Winnie had just dropped into her unassigned assigned seat next to Cairo, two minutes before Greco-Roman Literary Theory started. The flipping of pages punctuated the chatter of other students waiting, a comfortable sound. “He said he’d be gone today,” Cairo replied absently. “There’s a ‘guest lecturer,’ our teaching assistant.”
“Oh, right. Who’s that?”
Cairo shrugged. “Who knows.” 
As if on cue, the door swung open. Cairo didn’t even look up—Miller mentioned that he kept a handful of research assistants that would be there to help with the advanced reading. But honestly, Cairo wasn’t sure what they could tell her that she didn’t already know. A melodic hum fell through the air for just a moment, a chorus. 
“Good morning.” At your lilting voice, rough with the edge of 10am, Cairo started. She watched you set your messenger bag on the desk. Your white shirt pulled over your shoulders; there was a glint at your collar, a necklace peeking through. A thin watch adorned your wrist. Winnie, along with some of the class, echoed your greeting, and Cairo blinked.
Late spring afternoon draped across the furniture in Cairo’s room, the quickly waning light giving easy way to a blue hour. Dropping her bag at the door, she tore off her shirt and skirt with the confidence of one standing before a crowd. Running a hand up from her sternum to her neck, she stretched languidly, sinking down onto her bed. After so many uneventful days—when she applied to Yale, she didn’t think that there would be any uneventful days—she finally had a story to turn over in her mind. 
You. You were a mystery. Even as you had started the class with an introduction, telling Cairo you’d graduated from a middle-of-nowhere college in California and sought a writing career in Vermont before delving into research, she longed to lay out the details and pull them out from under the rug. Where did you learn to teach? Did you like to drive, or be driven? Mountains, or the sea? Where did you grow up? Was there coffee or tea in your cupboard? Cairo’s stomach burned to know. Her dark eyes burned the ceiling with smoke signals, searching for you even though you were god knows where in that seaside state.
Arching her back, Cairo let her hand travel down, palm flat against her stomach, to trace the seam of her upper thigh. As the class had progressed, your keenly observant nature did not elude Cairo. Maybe listening was something that your pedagogy instilled in you, but the way you held each student’s question in the cant of your head, an answer in your crinkling eyes, listening seemed to be in your nature. It was meticulous, the way you picked apart the class text, weaving in references and tying it all in. In that two hour lecture, Cairo learned that you watched the same way you listened. 
Balmy as it was, the humidity made her dark waves cling to her skin, and she shivered as she brushed them back, thinking of a different pair of slim hands. Your scrutiny of each student had an intention that she couldn’t quite place; a determination that thrilled her. Cairo imagined that you’d observe her the same way, that she would be the one you were most fond of. It was only natural that her own attention would draw yours onto her. Holding the weight of your envisioned gaze made Cairo’s core twist, a pleased little flush that she prayed you could see. Your affected impartiality didn’t bother Cairo—in fact, it pulled her into your shadow. In her bed, she rolled onto her stomach then her knees, shaking her hair out. 
Her hands were steady as she reached for her bedside table, thumb rolling on the wheel of her zippo as she held the cigarette to her lips. Cairo took a drag, blowing out neat smoke rings as she settled back on her heels. The skin of her own fingers was cool against her lips, and when she took the smoke away, she studied the pattern of her lipstick on the white paper as she had so many times before.
She’d watched, unabashedly and unafraid of being caught, as you drummed your fingers on the chalk tray. Would your fingertip be soft or work hardened if it pressed down her tongue? Would your skin carry the stain of her red lip as deeply, as obediently, as the malleable wrapping paper?
“Alright, class,” you cleared your throat, turning slowly around the room to make eye contact with each student. “As you know, Jonathan’s away on a conference today. I’ll start with a bit of role, just so I can learn your names. Not many of you come to my office hours, I know.” You smiled easily. It was so guileless, Cairo mused, nearly childlike. You had the class go around the rooms with names and majors, a circuit that Cairo gave no attention to other than your lilting rhythm of hums, the tapping of your foot on the floor, the way you flicked the corner of the role sheet with your thumb. Your gaze was soon on hers, waiting expectantly. She looked right back with a blink.
“Cairo Sweet. English major.”
“Cairo.” Her name rolled off your innocent little grin, making her cock her head. “Wonderful.” Fascinating. Would you whisper midnight black desires in her ear, so deep and dark they might be murmured into the ink of your own empty room?
You continued, circling back to the front and easily transitioning to the lesson plan. You had an awfully effortless way of grasping the class’ attention, holding gently and never forcing. It wasn’t like Professor Miller, who always seemed to hasten through the lecture so he could return to his research. She could tell you liked the woods of the text, to fall down into the depths of each word, feeling its weight in you and letting it rock. Just like Cairo. 
She sighed into the warm air prickling up her skin, the curl of your voice around her name making her nipples harden in her bralette, even in retrospect. Exhaling around her cigarette, Cairo brought her hands up to palm her breasts, feeling the drag of her rubied nubs on her palms. Was it the high of the nicotine, the blur of smoke ridden air that made her float straight up into the lofty space you’d created in her mind? Though the feel of her own fingers scraping the lace against her skin was familiar, she found herself keen to think of your soft or callused hands. She was wet already, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten wet so fast.
The weight she imagined of your touch on her flushed skin was completely, deliciously foreign. Unbidden but intimately welcome, Cairo wished that your caress would find the map of her chest as familiar as a classic, something you had searched a million times over yet always managed to find something new. Shamelessly, Cairo trailed her fingers down her stomach, nails catching on every rib as she arched her back in the spilled moonlight. The mystery in the crossing of your long legs as you’d leaned back on the desk climbed up her belly, curling in the thump, thump, thump, of her heart. The uneven roll of your sleeves clung to the corners of her eyes, eidetic and oh, so, tempting. She had watched you so ardently—did you like to watch? Would you watch? 
The space between her thighs was achingly empty, craving the set of your narrow hips. She was comfortable there, and she remembered the taut stretch of wool as you dropped into your chair and set one ankle over your knee. There was something endearing about the way your trousers had pulled up to reveal slouchy black socks, and darker her mind went as the material pulling creases around your lap made her shudder and—she reached behind to pull one of her fluffy pillows under her, smoke billowing into the air. 
Cairo gave her hips an experimental roll, imagining it was the soft fabric of your slacks against her aching cunt, and grinned around her cigarette. Unlike the pillow, you would be ever so solid under her, grabbing for her thighs like a dog yearns to please. Were you more likely to bruise her skin, yanking her into you without care for blood—or would you guide her gently, make a home in her innocence and hold her more dearly than life ever could? Either way, your desire for Cairo would be so apparent that you couldn’t help yourself.
The dip of your tongue in her navel, the little smirk you’d undoubtedly wear as you went down further—would you go for her throbbing clit first, or would your lips press so warm—she didn’t know. She didn’t have to, content with all those different versions of you unfurling before her. In her bedroom, each time she moved her hips, it became easier to imagine you guiding her actions, the bump of your nose on her folds, damned if not addicting.
Cairo grinned as she fell onto her forearms, hips pushing into the soft pillow without abandon. The slide of her panties soaked with slick against her sensitive clit felt like the delicate press of your splayed hand on her desk as you’d passed, eyes occupied by the text you were holding. It had only been a split second, but it was enough for her to memorize every crease, every vein. Cairo let out a whine, a demanding little sound, as her movements grew erratic. Looking up into the heaven where you must be, she imagined that you’d murmur to her, “I’m here, I’m here, how could I be anywhere else but here?” as you traced the dip in her back. Her arousal took her down every sullied path she’d ever dreamed of, but her mind stuck on one gesture that made her mouth go dry. 
She remembered the way your shirt got just a bit untucked when you stretched during the class break. You’d instinctively tucked it back in, quick as you surveyed the class. Cairo thought that you’d dress yourself back up the same way after you bent her over the desk after class, pushing her skirt up and shoving your fingers into her, painting bruises onto her hip bones with how tight you held her.
The two of you would share a mutual understanding that she wanted this, wanted it bad enough for you to take it whenever you saw fit. Cairo decided that today, this time, you’d be as rough as you pleased, a cup of pens clattering to the ground as you pushed her down, forearm across her shoulder blades. Your necklace would be cold on her warm skin, would it be cold on her tongue? You’d put two, three fingers inside, humming in that absentminded way you did. She thought you’d nuzzle into her ear, all lips and sharp teeth, asking if she’d sprayed your favorite hair mist of hers because she hoped you’d notice—she did—and take her, break her, whatever you wanted. 
You’d send her plummeting down towards a deeper hell (or was it higher, up to your majestic heaven?), already knowing everything that her body needed. Cairo imagined herself coming so helplessly around the stretch of your fingers, so high strung from nights of trying to mimic the press of your touch on her clit, unable to reach the same heights you sent her to. As she held back tears, eyes on the ceiling in reverence, feeling herself drip to the floor, you’d sigh as your mind wandered to other things already, carelessly running a hand down her back. 
Cairo gasped, dropping her nearly finished cigarette in favor of gripping the bed sheets. The white fabric wrinkled around her fingers, reminiscent of your shirt creasing as you’d rolled your sleeves up. This was something new you could show her, just how fast she could come and just how wet it made her. It was a marvel, feeling the fabric cling to her cunt, almost as good as how you’d feel. Resting her forehead in the crook of her elbow, she murmured your name over and over again, a little susurrus of a litany, so similar to your preoccupied hum. Panting, Cairo giggled in her bliss, soft and bright as Californian oranges clinging to rich leaves. You were dark enough to be tucked into the wrinkles in the soft pillow, dark enough for Cairo to love, as a journal loves a secret.
Sated, Cairo grabbed her phone and typed your name in. The results spilled out, and she scrolled, looking for all of the details in the background of your social media posts, curiously drunk on the year’s gap in your CV. Cairo noticed the perfect little circle where the cigarette had burned when she dropped it, and she brushed away the remnants. The gesture smeared the ash on the sheets.
Walking into your office with barely a knock, Cairo took in the familiar room of an academic, but with your unfamiliar knick knacks around the place. A lighter, a leather wallet, glasses and wired headphones. You didn’t look surprised as you glanced up from your laptop. Instead, you smiled. 
“Cairo, isn’t it?” 
A flush of pleasure shot straight into her—you remembered. She nodded. Your shelves were covered in books and stacks of reviews, the morning’s leftover cup of coffee sitting on one of the ledges. Did you smoke before, or after your coffee? The terrible, terrible want to replace the taste of smoke on your tongue with the taste of her gave Cairo just the confidence she needed. 
“What can I do for you?”
Cairo leaned over your desk, watching the way your eyes dropped to her burgundy lipstick. “Would you be able to help me on the Aristophanes reading?” She pushed her copy of The Clouds towards you. “I can’t seem to grasp it.” Your eyes met hers. “Of course.”
--
a/n cont'd: can you read my mind, i’ve been watching you… there’s just something about you, baby… ♪ / hope you enjoyed @woewriting :)
please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!
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pucksandpower · 7 months
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Hi hi. Hope your taking care of yourself. I just want to ask on the grid kids series can i request the drivers being mistaken as grid baby's parents... like shes out with them where people dont know who they are and they get mistaken for being her parents. (you can choose any two drivers if u wanna write it)
Grid Kids: Mistaken Identities
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: the grid kids learn that sometimes seeing two men with a baby can make people draw the wrong conclusions
Series Masterlist
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Max and Charles: Disney Princes
“Why do I feel like we’ve bitten off more than we can chew?” Charles groans, adjusting the collar of his prince costume as they step into the magical world of Tokyo Disneyland.
Max smirks, tugging at his own princely garb. “Because you were easily swayed by a toddler. But why did I let the two of you drag me into this too?”
Your daughter skips ahead, twirling in her Cinderella dress, utterly delighted. “Princess!” She chirps, pointing to herself, and then at them, “Princes!”
Charles laughs, ruffling her hair. “Yes, yes, but remember, you owe me big time.”
Suddenly, a small horde of children swarm around Charles, their eyes wide with awe. “Prince Charming!” One of them squeals, reaching out to touch the hem of his outfit.
Max can’t help but chuckle. “Look at you, a hit with the kiddos already.”
Charles, looking mildly panicked but trying to keep his composure, kneels down, offering his best princely smile. “Hello, little ones. Are you enjoying your day at the castle?”
While Charles is surrounded, a couple approaches Max, eyes flickering between him, Charles, and your daughter. “You three make such a cute family! How long have you and your husband been together?”
Max chokes on his spit. “Oh, no, we’re not — I mean, he’s not — we’re her brothers, not fathers. And we’re definitely not together.”
The woman’s cheeks turn a bright shade of red. “Oh! I’m so sorry. My mistake.”
Charles, now free from the throng of kids, joins in, “It’s alright. Happens a lot more than you would think.” He winks at your daughter, “This princess has a way of wrapping everyone around her finger so I can see the confusion.”
Max and Charles immerse themselves in the Disneyland experience, fully embracing their roles as makeshift royalty. They take pictures, go on rides, and even join your daughter for a tea party at Cinderella’s Royal Table.
While leaving, a staff member waves, “Goodbye, Prince Charming!”
Charles raises an eyebrow, “Which one?”
Max smirks, “Clearly, they meant me.”
Your daughter grins cheekily. “Both Princes. My Princes.”
Mick and Lance: Horsing Around
“Why is she covered in hay?” Lance looks down at your giggling daughter who has a spot of dirt on her nose and straw in her hair.
Mick picks her up, attempting to brush it off without much success. “Because someone wanted to roll around with the bunnies.”
She claps her hands together. “Bunny soft! And pony! I want pony!”
A farmer passing by overhears their conversation, a knowing smile on his face. “That's how it starts, you know?” He nods towards Mick and Lance, “My daughter wanted just one pony and now look around you — turned into this whole farm.” He chuckles, looking at your daughter with fondness, “Seems history is repeating with your little one. She’s clearly got her daddies wrapped around her finger already.”
Mick chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “Oh, we’re not her dads. We’re her brothers. Just trying to spoil her a bit while we can.”
The farmer looks slightly surprised but grins, “Ah, my bad! You looked so domestic and I assumed. But a word of advice from someone who’s been through it … those little eyes? They’ll have a whole farm following you home if you’re not careful."
Lance nods in agreement, “She gets her charm from our mom.”
Your daughter, however, is undeterred. “Pony! Please, please, pony!”
Lance tries to be stern, “I don’t think Mom and Dad will let us get a pony.”
But her big eyes and pout should be illegal.
They cave instantly. “Okay, okay! We’ll see what we can do,” Mick promises.
As they head home, Mick turns to Lance, “You realize we can’t actually get her a pony, right?”
But Lance just smirks. “Watch me.”
***
Later that evening, you’re sipping tea when a rather unexpected sound catches your attention.
Neighhh.
You rush to the window, eyes widening at the sight in front of you.
Lance meets your eyes sheepishly, “So ... we might’ve made a tiny impulsive decision ...”
Mick is holding a bedazzled harness belonging to the animal in question, “Tiny? It’s not exactly a chihuahua.”
Your daughter rushes to you, grinning from ear to ear. “Look, Mommy! Pony!”
You sigh deeply, “I leave you two in charge for a few hours and apparently we now own a pony?”
Mick shrugs, “It seemed like a good idea at the time?”
Lance adds, “We just couldn’t say no to her!”
You laugh, pulling them both into a hug with your daughter sandwiched between. “You boys are impossible. When did you become such softies?”
“Just following in your footsteps,” Mick smirks. “You know, spoiling the ones we love."
Lance nods, “Guess it runs in the family.”
Lando and George: Busy Bees
“Is she ready?” Lando asks while leaning over to check his face paint in the mirror.
George adjusts his fake antennae headband. “I still can’t believe you convinced me to wear this.”
Your daughter runs in from behind them, flapping her tiny bee wings with a big smile on her face. “Bzzz! Bzzz!”
Lando laughs, “Look at you, the cutest little bee in the hive!”
He then whispers to George, “At least we match.”
George groans, “Yeah but did we really have to be flowers? It’s bad enough that she’s got me trick-or-treating for the first time in twenty years.”
As they set out, the trio attracts many admiring glances, especially when your daughter toddles up to houses, holding out her little bucket and adorably attempting a “Trick or treat!”
At one house, an older lady opens the door, gasping with delight. “Oh my! What a beautiful little family! You and your husband have done such a wonderful job. Your daughter’s costume is simply adorable!”
George’s cheeks flush under his floral face paint, “Oh, uh, we’re not a couple. We’re her brothers!”
Lando waves his hands, “Yeah! No couple here, just brothers. He’s too annoying to date anyway.”
The lady looks slightly taken aback but quickly recovers. “Oh, my apologies! It’s just so rare to see two young dads out and about. Anyways, here you go, little bumblebee.” She drops a handful of candy into your daughter’s bucket.
The night continues with more misidentifications, George and Lando taking it in stride but also bickering about who gives off more of a dad vibe.
George pokes Lando, “I told you, dressing as matching flowers makes it look like we’re together.”
Lando rolls his eyes, “You’re just embarrassed because Mrs. Thompson from three houses down thought we were a couple.”
George grins, “Well, maybe if someone didn’t m insist on holding my hand to guide me ...”
Lando splutters, “That was to stop you from tripping over a pumpkin in the dark! Besides, look, she’s having the time of her life.”
Your daughter just continues her “bzzing,” happily collecting candies and compliments.
When they return home, a mountain of treats in tow, your daughter shows off her loot with pride.
Sebastian greets them at the door, laughing as he sees their costumes. “Looking good there!”
George mumbles, “At least we’re on brand.”
Lando grins, “Exactly! Team Bee for the win!”
Your daughter, energy not even slightly dimmed, runs up and hugs Sebastian, “Daddy! Bzzz!”
Sebastian chuckles, “My little bee. Did you have fun with your brothers?”
She nods vigorously, “Bzzz!”
You shake your head in amusement. “Alright, my buzzing bee, time for bed. And you two,” you point at George and Lando, “thanks for being such good sports. Even if you did look ridiculous.”
George and Lando are already on their way to raid your vanity for makeup wipes. “Anything for our little bee,” Lando says with a wink.
The Parents and the “Parents”
Charles runs a hand through his hair, “So, Y/N, Seb ... you won’t believe how many times Max and I have been mistaken for a couple when we’re out and about.”
“Yeah,” Max chimes in, “apparently we give off strong young dads in love vibes.”
Lance sighs dramatically, “Don’t even get me started! Mick and I took her to the park a few days ago and this lady actually asked how long we’ve been married and when we adopted her.”
Mick nods, “She even recommended a couples’ yoga class for us. Said it helped her and her wife reconnect for personal time during parenthood.”
Lando, trying to stifle a giggle, pipes up, “George and I were given a book called The Ultimate Guide for Gay Dads by our new neighbor. She said it really helped her son and his husband.”
George gestures wildly, “We even got invited to the local dads’ weekly barbecue. I think we’re honorary members now.”
You burst out laughing, “Oh my god, I can’t breathe! This is priceless.”
Sebastian chuckles, “I think it’s sweet that our daughter has so many loving dads. We’re setting a new norm here.”
Max grins, “I always knew I had a paternal side.”
Charles nudges him, “More like you just can’t bring yourself to say no to her.”
Lance admits, “That’s true. Is this a good time to apologize for the pony in your backyard again?”
Everyone turns to look at Mick, who shrugs, “She has the best puppy eyes, okay?”
“It’s a gift really,” George agrees. “I tried to do the same face to Lando to get the last slice of pizza but all he did was laugh at me.”
Lando retorts, “That’s because your puppy eyes looked more like you were constipated.”
Suddenly, the laughter is interrupted by a small voice. Your daughter toddles into the room, holding a toy race car in one hand and a doll in the other. “Why do you all have funny faces?” She asks, her innocent eyes widening.
Sebastian picks her up and sits her on his knee, “Well, little racer, we were just talking about how sometimes people think that your brothers are your dads.”
She scrunches her face in confusion, “But that’s silly! They’re still your babies too. How can they be dads?”
You laugh, “You’re absolutely right, sweetheart. They definitely still act like children sometimes.”
The six indignant whines of “we do not” you get in return don’t really do much to help their case.
But you love your kids anyway. All seven of them.
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rie-092 · 7 months
Text
CURSED CHILD.
「 tcf x child! reader 」
summary : the white star loved his child, he really does.
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‘ OH, GOSH. I HATE MY LIFE. ’
The red-haired child couldn't help but frown as she walked through the hallways of the orphanage. Everyone knew how famous the Sekka family is in the Paerun Kingdom. That's why when the son and the future duke of that family showed an interest in an orphan like her, the whole orphanage became happy.
The little redhead's reddish brown eyes held a glint of annoyance as she looked at her arms that were covered with the sleeves of her clothes. The fact that the young master of the Sekka dukedom is here to visit her again, made the staff of the orphanage buy an expensive-looking dress that'll surely cover her bruises and dress her up. "You better not mess up this time, (name)."
"Yes." The little girl blankly said as they stopped walking. (Name), the girl looked at the huge door in front of her with a stoic expression on her face. "You were lucky that Young Master Clopeh is fond of you."
Fond? Seems like he's obsessed to me.
She deadpanned, watching how the woman in front of her opened the door. Revealing a young man sitting in a wheelchair, elegantly sipping on his tea. Rei could only sigh as she saw how the woman who was supposed to be her caretaker blushed at the sight. And she only blushed even more when Clopeh tucked his white hair behind his ear as his brilliant green eyes met (name)'s reddish-brown ones. (Name) wanted to curse and run away when she saw how Clopeh's face brightened when he saw her.
"(Name)!"
Rei's lips curved onto a bright smile as she walked towards Clopeh while internally telling herself that violence was never an answer. "Hello, sir!" Acting like a child was something that Rei was used to so this was a piece of cake for her. Clopeh smiled fondly as he ruffled (Name)'s hair before looking at the woman behind her, signalling her to leave. And the woman gladly obeyed.
And seeing that her caretaker left. (Name) found herself wishing that the Arm would appear before her and slash her body into two so she could just move on to her next life and make sure to avoid the people who were similar to the guy in front of her. The calm and noble-like aura that Clopeh was radiating earlier completely disappeared. He clasped his hands together and started reciting some kind of prayer before looking at the little redhead with a blush on his face.
This lunatic. (Name) sweatdrop.
The most handsome bachelor in the Paerun Kingdom? A noble knight? The future head of the Sekka household? No. In (name)'s eyes, Clopeh Sekka was a certified lunatic who for some reason started to treat her like some kind of God.
"I brought your favourite cookie with me, (Name)-nim."
Ah fuck, I hate my life.
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