#its been stewing in the back of my mind for at least a week
Note
obligatory ramble about postcanon loop ask
also your art is amazing
Hiiiiiiiii :D thank you :)!!
and thank you for the excuse to post the. just absolute wall of text that i truncated down to form the tags of that post. (i did,,, hit the tag limit. i forgot tumblr had one of those...) so let me just paste that and tidy it up a bit...
I am putting this under a readmore because it's a bit long. but:
This is like. The General Context for all* of my postcanon doodles? (Except AUs obviously) Like this is the base idea I've been drawing them all in. So, feel free to backread with this in mind. I've basically had this 'postcanon' timeline set in my brain since finishing the game...
My general thoughts are that I like the idea of Loop (even if through dubiously ethical means) being able to slowly reintegrate with the party as a whole new person, because they are, in fact, their own person.
It's a muddle of thematic threads im pulling on and "wouldn't it be fucked up if", but.
(at its core, it's powered by the fact that like, while narratively isat's theme of 'the only person who can truly take the first step to help you is yourself'. (wrt: loop helping the party help siffrin in act 5) which i LOVE AND IS GREAT NARRATIVELY…. would be super fucked up irl to learn that your friend 'learned as a lesson' while you stood by kinda uselessly. I know i'd be upset about it. but thats mostly background here. doesn't really come up. at least not until loop has to explain who they are and the party realises they had to fall back on literally themselves again for help, but i digress,)
The real core concept is: Occam's razor.
It is like, inherently, a buckwild thing to accuse a person of being somehow a clone or copy of your friend. Even if they start vaguely alluding to a backstory it's far more likely they were some other person before all that.
(I still think Odile has that theory in the back pocket but she's rational enough to know it's a really long shot without a solid explanation. and i think Loop deep down knows this, and would, if cornered into confessing, turn the situation around to go J'ACCUSE and make HER explain it instead. Ever longer dodging being direct with their emotions...)
And the party are nice! And if someone has changed and wants to keep stuff secret it's kind of not their business? (Though it's hard not to speculate… see: the main joke of the doodles) And they seem important to Siffrin so they just try to accept them abrasive quirks and all. And eventually the question of their prior identity just fades away since, well, they're Loop. Their friend Loop.
but yeah. personal headcanon is that a few months/weeks after picking up and getting aquainted with Nille** (since that was presumably the IMMEDIATE TASK postgame), Loop reappears (either after a literal period of nonexistance, or just spending a few months wandering the french countryside alone being attacked by wild dogs). Since Siffrin has had a while to be therapised by the party they're doing mostly okay, but Loop showing up and still being agitated/aggressive pulls them both into a bit of a backslide behaviourally and puts the party on the back foot again.
Hooowever, I do think that due to no longer being literally stewing in the worst pressure cooker of all time together, the two do mostly actually sort themselves out with productive conversation. (Via a cycle of: genuinely distressing argument -> weeeird lovebombing -> ok we're good -> repeat, that gets less intense over time)
Thus, allowing the party to just. Integrate loop as a new person. They and Siffrin shuffle into different ecological niches (Loop taking over stuff Siffrin is now too squeamish for, etc (see: hunting, mostly)), and while it's not exactly what Loop wanted they generally get that beggars can't be choosers and it's a pretty good deal. And the rest of the party does straight up just like them as a friend, especially when Loop quits trying to actively antagonise them after a few weeks of being around them, since they just can't keep up being mean to people they like forever.
As for how I think the truth eventually drags itself out. This is where I invoke The Isabeau Torment Nexus™. So its gonna get shippy here for a bit hold on.
Which is, I think giving them time before Loop reappears long enough that Siffrin and Iseabeau actually manage to become established, Isabeau has to be the one to nudge the pair of them and go. "Hey. You know we're in Vaugarde right. I'm okay with polyamory if we all communicate." Before Loop and Siffrin actually even acknowledge that whatever the fuck they have going on kinda looks a lot like a relationship of some kind. (or have already been agonising about that via fighting and arguing, depending)
(Obviously this comes after Isa "Emotionally intelligent enough to keep a lid on the jealousy" Beau has managed to use that big brain of his to Not just go Scream somewhere on the daily because oh godddd they keep talking like theyre suicide-baiting each other jesus chriiist. is it overstepping his boundaries to bring that up?? god)
This, taking a bunch of the tension out of Loop and Isabeau's relationship (Since I imagine Loop is a. being weird for the obvious reasons and b. feeling kinda guilty about 'getting in the way of' Siffrin and Iseabeau), allows them to actually get close in a normal friend way.
(I think an interesting turning point could be Isabeau actually taking Loop's side in an argument vs Siffrin, which would absolutely break Loop's brain. Especially if it's an argument that matters. Like what do you mean he isn't just going to play favourites. What?)
Then Isabeau, just actually open minded and charmed by Loop (and maybe even somewhat at Siffrin's suggestion?) tries to close the final open side on the polyamory triangle here and that's the final straw for Loop on "This lie by omission is too unethical to keep up, this is just actually sick and wrong. I can't do this while he doesn't know who I am."
Though. Obviously it probably goes. Very poorly with emotions high like that. And the added element of several months of deceit. Getting dark here for a second but that dagger is going MISSING and so are THEY for a hot minute.
Then yaaay everything works out in the end 👍 yippieee!! all it took was maybe a lot of harrowed recontextualisation of all the weird shit your new friend said and did when it turns out they're your old friend. It's fine.
But yeah. this is basically the context all of my postcanon doodles have existed within? And those exist to give other people something to chew on. So this does too.
I suppose TL;DR: Imagine if sloopis almost fucking happens before isabeau knows who loop is. can you fucking imagine. can you imagine having to navigate that. nightmare.
*Yes this includes the implied cannibalism comic. Uhh. Comes part and parcel with headcanoning that Loop went way off the deep end similar to A5 Sif But Maybe Worse before giving in. Add weepy half-asleep confessions to murder wherever you see fit in your mind palace. 👍👍👍
**Re: Nille footnote. I don't have anywhere to put this besides here!
I have some thoughts on Loop and Nille having an odd dynamic. I don't imagine Nille to be super gung-ho on trusting a bunch of adults (even if they are majority around her age) given their implied backstory. It's probably a big shock to the system, especially since Bambouche is a good couple hundred Kilometers up north from Dormont and these guys don't seem to have trains. She would've been unfrozen and without Bonnie for some time....
Which is to say: I think she's suspicious of them. I think she may be looking for excuses to distance herself, keep Bonnie safe. SO.... A new guy showing up? And antagonising the party? What do they know that I don't...? I should find out.
And since... Loop didn't ever know Nille, they have no ammunition or real reason to be cruel. Plus, if they're trying to stay on Bonnie's good side (SINCE... if Bonnie thought Loop was cringe they may as well kill themselves. In their mind.) they SUPER have no reason to antagonise Nille.
Mostly, they might be able to open up to each other easier than they can the rest of the party?
I feel like this resolves with Loop feeling compelled to apologise for what they and Siffrin let happen to Bonnie, though... Hmm... Depends on how you interpret Nille that they'd be glad nobody else had been told about that yet, or furious it had been secret this long. I lean toward the former.
#PHEW THIS IS LONG. i wrote some extra footnotes and tidied it up a bit. but uh. here you go! my personal headcanon baseline for postcanon.#i could probably elaborate more but that would get unwieldy. like i have opinions on loop's dynamics w each party member but. LONG POST...#lucabytetalks#isat#isat spoilers#in stars and time#isat loop#isiloop#sloopis#WONT be tagging everyone thats absurd. loop centric post though with a chunk about nille at the end#isat act 6 spoilers
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Beef Stew Recipe - Potion of Fortitude
Whether it's been an exhausting week, a frigid winter's day, or just a stressful time, few things are more comforting than a hearty bowl of stew. I make this beef stew for myself whenever I need a true pick-me-up or when I'm preparing for an in-depth magical working. It provides lasting energy, warmth, and strength.
Plus, this recipe is scalable - make a ton and freeze it to enjoy for weeks or just make a little bit for one meal. The measurements below are approximate; measure with your heart.
Ingredients:
Chuck roast, cut to half-inch cubes (you can get pre-chunked stew meat, which is what I typically get)
Flour, enough to coat the beef
Salt and Pepper (about 1 tsp salt & 1/2 tsp pepper), for seasoning the beef coating
2 tablespoons Unsalted Butter
1 Onion, diced
2 Large Potatoes, peeled and cut into half-inch to one-inch cubes
2 Carrots, peeled and cut into rounds
5-6 Cloves of Garlic, finely diced
4 cups Beef Broth
Herbs of your choice, such as: Sage, Thyme, Marjoram, Celery Seed, Bay, Chili Flakes
Additional veggies of your choice, such as: Parsnips, Turnips, Bok Choy
Salt and Pepper to taste
Instructions:
Mix together your flour, salt, and pepper in a bowl. Toss the beef chunks in the mixture to coat. This will create a nice brown crispiness on the outside.
In your stew pot, sauté your flour-coated beef until browned on all sides. Remove from the pot and set aside.
Add more oil to your pot and cook your onion until translucent. If you don't mind soft carrots in your stew, add them now and cook until just starting to soften and brown. (Note: I often leave the carrots until after the potatoes are nearly cooked through because I don't like the texture of fully-cooked carrots.)
Once your onions are translucent and your carrots have started to soften/brown, toss in your butter and scrape the bottom of the pot. You want to get all those beautiful, delicious brown bits back into the mixture. You can add a little water if you need help loosening the bits.
Add your garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds.
Put your beef back into the pot (along with any drippings from the plate/bowl you placed it in). Pour your broth over everything and give it all a good stir.
Toss your potatoes into the pot. Bring it all to a boil and reduce your heat to let it simmer.
Add your herbs and spices. I recommend salt, pepper, sage, thyme, celery seed (or salt), and bay. If you like it spicy, you can throw in a bit of chili powder or flakes.
Simmer for at least one hour or until your potatoes are soft and your beef becomes tender, stirring occasionally.
If your stew isn't thick enough by the time your potatoes are done, you can make a cornstarch slurry by combining one tablespoon of cornstarch with two tablespoons of water. Pour the slurry into the stew and let it cook until thickened to your desired consistency.
Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Serve with crusty bread, veggie side dishes, or whatever else you like.
Optional magic you can include:
As mentioned above, I often use this recipe to bolster or replenish my energy before or after an intense magical working. It also works for physical exertions - I made this for a group of my partner's friends while they were moving heavy furniture to a new apartment, and it gave them all the energy to move everything in one night!
This stew has an intense comforting effect. If someone I know has been working hard, stressing out, or hasn't been feeding themselves properly, I'll make this for them to help them remember to take care of themselves. It's rejuvenating, hearty, and full of love.
Depending on the herbs you choose to include, this could also be a powerful protection spell. Especially in the cold months, I use this as a protective ward against the cold exhaustion that pulls at the body and mind.
Pop a bit of chili in this spell to both speed up its effects and cast out negativity! Nothing clears the sinuses like a nose full of spice, and nothing clears the body of bad vibes like a good dose of chili flake.
Like many of my spell recipes, this one is most effective when it's shared. Give a bowl to your friends, your family, your neighbors, whoever. It makes a wonderful offering to house spirits or ancestors.
If you make this recipe, please let me know your thoughts! And if you enjoy this or my other posts, please consider dropping a couple dollars in my Ko-Fi tip jar!
Happy cooking, witches! 🍲
#recipes#food#spells#kitchen witch#hearth witch#witchblr#witchcraft#witch#home witchcraft#healing food#soup#stew#beef stew#food spells#my spells#my recipes#aese speaks
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Burnin’ Up - Firefighter!Chris AU (Part 9: Up in flames)
A/N: AND WE’RE BACK!! I’m so glad to b back posting this series because I love it so much!! I’ve been working to get ahead of myself so hopefully updates will be more regular!
Summary: Following your argument both you and Chris are left to stew, but fate has other ideas...
Word Count: 6.5k
Warnings: ANGST! Talk of Divorce! Emergency situation! Language! Major Injury! Near death experience!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Meet the Characters!
Series Masterlist / Masterlist
Part 9: Up in flames
You let out a long sigh as you leant forward, resting your elbows against your knees as you look through your binoculars at the apartment across the street.
“I think my mind might actually be turning to mush” you mumble dropping the binoculars and rubbing your forehead tiredly.
“its not that bad” Benny shrugs as he looks through the viewfinder of the long lensed camera he held.
“yes it is, we have been here all day and nothing has happened, no one’s been or gone, there’s barely any movement in the apartment” you groan shaking your head.
“well this guy is smart, he wants to appear like he’s a totally regular guy, not someone who runs a massive drug ring” Ben points out as he reclines back in his chair “plus nothing can be too bad when I get to spend the day with my bestie” he grins as he turns the camera on you and takes a couple of shots.
“the captain isn’t gonna be happy if that thing is full of useless pictures” you grumble turning your attention back to the apartment across the street.
“right what’s wrong?” Ben sighs putting the camera down and turning to face you.
“Nothing, I just want to catch this guy” you state not turning to face him, keeping your sights on the job at hand.
“no offence but bullshit, you’ve been in a bad mood all week” Ben points out.
“no I haven’t I was perfectly happy yesterday when we were on patrol, remember that funny street performer” you argue finally looking over at him.
“Okay fine you’ve not been in a bad mood all week but you’ve been more withdrawn as if something is bothering you, is it your father or something?” Ben asks his voice gentle as leans forward and puts a hand on your knee.
You let out a long sigh dropping your head “no, well at least not really… it’s Chris” you sigh looking over at him.
“what do you mean? What happened?” Ben frowns.
“he just stuck his nose in where I didn’t want him, got all worked up, we argued and I kicked him out” you explain with a sigh.
“and I’m guessing this all revolved around your father” Ben says slowly.
“yeah, he said all this bullshit about how he was this monster and didn’t love me,” you say your voice catching slightly.
“whoa” Ben mutters under his breath.
“exactly, and it just exploded out of nowhere,” you say shaking your head as you slumped back in your chair.
“what caused it?” Ben asks rubbing his hands together as he leans forward.
“I’m not sure exactly, he was being weird at dinner, I mentioned how I started cooking when I was seven and he went silent for a moment and it was a bit awkward” you explain shrugging your shoulders, Ben just hums looking down at the floor.
“and then we were about to watch a movie, and while I was waiting for him to tidy up I decided to have a flick through of the lieutenants’ textbook and he flipped out, going on about how horrible my father is and how he’s abusive and a monster and that he doesn’t treat me like a daughter” you recall shaking your head.
Ben remains silent, biting his lips slightly as he nods his head “and I get he’s not gonna win dad of the year but he did the best he could given the circumstances” you sigh.
Ben hums nodding his head slightly as he looks back up at you “and you didn’t agree with anything he said? Like he couldn’t have possibly been right?” Ben asks cautiously.
“no, not at all” you state shaking your head “he can’t be because he doesn’t know everything and I don’t get why he can’t respect me enough to leave it alone! When I said something about his parent’s divorce and saw he didn’t like it I stopped! Why didn’t he!” you exclaim getting more worked up before letting out a long sigh and pinching the bridge of your nose.
“you’re right he should have respected your boundaries,” Ben says putting his hand on your knee and squeezing it “but maybe look at it from his perspective”
Your head snaps towards him, frowning about to argue back but he stops you “just hear me out” ben says holding up his hand.
“from my point of view I can see how much he cares about you, and maybe…” Ben starts before sighing deeply “maybe he got the wrong picture from what he’s heard, we aren’t all heroes in everyone’s stories, sometimes we’re villains and maybe he just heard more of those stories and never got the full picture” he continues “so he was worried and got protective over you”
“if that’s the case he went about it the wrong way” you scoff shaking your head.
“Definitely, and look maybe it’s worth going and talking to him about it all, maybe share some of your stories so he has the full picture” Ben suggests gently.
“I don’t know” you sigh shaking your head.
“look believe it or not I can see you care a lot about this guy, and you should fight for it, don’t just stop at this road bump,” Ben tells you.
You let out a long sigh taking in everything that he said, Ben was right, you did care a lot about Chris and maybe that’s why this hurt so much. But at what point do road bumps become just straight-up red flags because this wasn’t the first bump in the road. And what if he couldn’t see your point of view? Would that be it?
“It's just that my father is all I have left, he’s my only family, I’ve lost my mom, and my grandparents, I just can’t lose him too and what if I have to choose? Between Chris and the only living family member, I have left” you say quietly.
“you won’t have to” Ben reassures you shaking your head “if Chris feels the way I think he does about you then he will do anything, and put up with anyone for you, plus most people don’t like their in-laws anyway, just look at my mom and her mother in law” Ben smirks.
You let out a small snort of laughter nodding your head “thanks Benny” you sigh “I’m not sure we’ll get to the in-laws' stage though”
“hey never say never” Ben winks making you laugh.
“alright enough about me, let's talk about your guy, how did the date go?” you ask with a grin.
You watch as Ben goes uncharismatically bashful “it went really well, we went for a hike in the woods and it was amazing” he smiles.
“aw, benny I’m so happy for you! I can’t wait to meet him” you smile nudging his knee.
“he is pretty great, and I know it’s pretty early days but it just feels so different to everything else, like I can picture myself with Matt for the rest of my life” Ben smiles bashfully.
“wow so the days of one-night stands might be over?” you ask with a lopsided smile.
“yeah, and I’m not mad about it” Ben grins.
“that’s amazing, I’m so happy for you, you deserve it you really do” you smile moving so you could hug him.
“thank you, now let’s pass the time by playing ‘guess the story’ while we wait for the perp to show up” Ben smirks looking back out of his window.
“oh me first!” you exclaim looking through your binoculars at the street “okay see that little old lady just coming around the corner?” you say pointing out the target.
“yep, okay name is Doris, and the story is… she just got back from Singapore where she single-handedly took down a notorious mob with only her little handbag” Ben reels off making you laugh.
“and how on earth did she manage that?” you snort.
“with her black belt in jujitsu obviously” Ben smirks making you laugh even more.
The two of you continue playing this game, going back and forth and making up stories about each passerby you saw. Eventually, it was time to clock off and let the night team start their shift.
“Well, that was a bust” you sigh as you climb into your car.
“yeah hopefully the other locations we have on surveillance got better results, but at least we get to clock off now and head home and have a nice quiet night,” Ben says yawning as he stretched out in the passenger seat.
“Unit 342 do you copy?” the radio buzzes.
You groan rolling your eyes before looking over at ben “that’s your fault you said the Q word” you huff grabbing the radio.
“Unit 342 to control we copy,” you say into the radio as Ben gives you an apologetic look.
“We have an apartment building fire on St Cecelia street, crowd is getting pretty big so need extra units for crowd control” control informs you.
“of course, we’ll head straight over,” you say glancing over at Ben, it looked like you were about to face Chris whether you liked it or not.
It was early evening and all Chris could hear was his crew laughing as they relaxed after dinner. He however had taken himself away and decided to go over and check that all the chores they had to do had been done. So far everything was in tip-top condition but when he got to the fire engine he notices smudge marks over the metal so decided to clean it himself.
The more he cleaned the more dirt he found making him growl in frustration as he scrubbed harder and got into every nook and cranny. Normally he would just leave it, it wasn’t dirt that would compromise their performance and stop them from doing their job. But today it just pissed him off and he needed to make it right, leaving no stone untouched and no rivet unpolished.
“Hey what are you doing down here?” someone calls out, Chris glances over his shoulder and spots Jamie standing a short distance away, hands in her pockets as she watched him.
“cleaning, whoever was supposed to do the engine didn’t do a good enough job” Chris huffs turning back to the job in hand.
“well I would suggest getting whoever it was to redo it, but considering it was you, you’ve kinda already done that” Jamie smirks as she walks over leaning against the side of the engine.
“do you need something or are you just here to piss me off” Chris states not even bothering to look up at her.
“I’m here to try and work out what’s wrong with you,” Jamie says standing up straight, arms crossed over her chest as she looked down at him with an unimpressed look.
“Nothing is wrong so go back to whatever you were doing Jennings” Chris states as he moves to polish one of the handles.
“yes there is, you’ve been short-tempered all week, you’re normally like this goofy golden retriever, now you’re this grumpy terrier” Jamie states moving so she was back in front of him.
Chris glares over at her before looking back at what he was doing “if this is your attempt at getting me to open up you’re doing a poor job” he tells her.
“so there is something bothering you” Jamie concludes.
“Urgh fine yes, now can we drop it?” Chris groans looking over at her.
“nope that’s not how this works, you’re gonna tell me what’s bothering you so you can stop acting like a stroppy teen” Jamie states crossing her arms over her chest.
Chris lets out a long sigh before dropping his cleaning rag “fine, it’s Y/N we got into a fight about a week ago and I’m still pissed about it”
“what was the fight about?” Jamie frowns.
“her dad” Chris sighed as he tried to work out the best way to explain it “since I’ve gotten to know her all I’ve heard and learnt about her father is horrible things and she just doesn’t see it, she just constantly defends him or shuts down and doesn’t want to even talk about or- or listen to what I have to say” Chris explains shaking his head in frustrations.
“how bad is it?” Jamie asks carefully.
“like she should cut him out of her life bad” Chris sighs sadly.
“how did you approach it, did you do it calmly?” Jamie’s questions.
“Maybe I could have gone about it a bit more calmly,” Chris says shrugging his shoulders.
“you mean your anger got the better of you and your feelings towards the situation took over and it started an argument” Jamie corrects.
Chris remains silent for a moment looking down at his hands “for lack of better words yes” he sighs, he did regret how it all happened and repeatedly thought about going back and apologising. But then he got frustrated again because he knew that no matter how he approached it, you would never believe him and he’d be unable to help you.
“right… well, we all have our baggage, I mean you and your parent’s divorce” Jamie says gesturing over at him.
Chris instantly freezes when he hears that, standing up straighter. His gaze became cooler as he stared down at Jamie. His jaw clenched tightly and his hands move into fists.
“see is not nice when someone talks about our baggage” Jamie points out with a knowing look.
Chris huffs his shoulders relaxing as he shakes his head looking down at the floor “this is different, what happened with my parents is in the past, I can change what happened but with what’s happening with Y/N and her father is still going on now and she won’t let me try and help her”
“Sometimes people don’t realise they need help, and starting an argument over it isn’t going to help,” Jamie tells him gently “look just picture how you’d feel if she started saying a bunch of things about the divorce that you didn’t agree with”
Chris didn’t need to imagine how he’d feel because he’d already experienced it when you brought it up at the career fair. Except deep down he did agree with everything he said, it was better that he was able to have both parents in a room together and not worry about them fighting. You were right when you said that just because they weren’t married anymore it didn’t mean they didn’t still love each other, it was just a different kind of love. Yet he still struggled to accept it and shut down, and you had approached it much better than he did.
“look I’m not saying you shouldn’t have voiced your concerns, but maybe you should have gone about it differently, tackle it one step at a time, not all at once, let her come to her figure it out instead of telling her,” Jamie tells him gently.
Chris nods his head “thank you Jamie, got any tips on how to make a good apology?” he asks hopefully.
Jamie chuckles gently “I can’t give you all the answers Evans” she smirks “now c’mon stop cleaning and come relax with the rest of us”
“fine but i-“ Chris starts before getting interrupted by the station alarm alerting them to a call out.
“well at least we worked out your issues” Jamie shrugged before the two of them dashed off to put on their gear and get to the fire.
Within minutes the crew was all geared up and on the road ready to face whatever lay ahead. They hadn’t even pulled onto the street yet and Chris could already see the tell-tale signs of a fire. The black smoke billowed up into the air and the orange glow lit up the dark street.
“right team, this is an apartment complex fire, the fire has already spread into multiple units, other stations have already started work on controlling the fire but we’ve been tasked with evac” Captain Jeffords announces once they arrive on the scene.
“on it, captain” the crew call back everyone getting the last of the gear on.
Jimmy and Steve had already run into the building to start evac, Chris and Paul were about to follow in after them when Jamie cursed.
“crap!” Jamie curses, pulling off the mask of her ventilator.
“what’s wrong?” Chris asks turning back.
“the ventilator isn’t working, I’m not getting clean air,” Jamie says as she fiddles with it trying to get it to work.
“Evans give Jennings your ventilator, you can stay out here and help coordinate” Captain Jeffords orders.
Chris nods in agreement, quickly removing his ventilator and helping Jamie put it on, adjusting the straps for her “all good?” he asks, checking the mask.
“all good” Jamie confirms giving him a thumbs up.
Chris pats her helmet before stepping out of the way allowing her and Paul to run into the building to find anyone trapped, he then chucked his gloves into the engine since he wouldn’t be needing them. Chris watched as his team disappeared into the building feeling frustrated that he couldn’t be in there to help himself, desperately hoping the building was already empty.
For the next few minutes, it was an anxious wait for his team to return with any survivors. Chris busied his time by talking to the building manager who was working on getting a headcount of those already out.
“Sir we think everyone is out of the building,” the manager tells Chris.
“Are you absolutely certain?” Chris states not wanting to make a mistake.
“yes” the manager nods.
“team, have we found anyone yet?” Captain Jeffords says into the radio.
“Negative, the fire is getting more out of control, I’m not certain the building is going to be stable for much longer” Paul responds.
“conduct a final sweep and then get out, don’t do anything stupid” Captain Jeffords orders.
Chris glances over at him to nod in agreement but freezes when he spots you and Ben arriving on the scene. He watched as you and ben first talked to the police officers already on crowd control before moving off to help. As you did so your eyes met his and your step faulted slightly. Chris wanted to smile or wave or something but he was frozen, just waiting for you to react. But you just stared at him, an unreadable expression on your face before turning and getting on with your job.
When you arrived at the fire you got straight to work, you’d just finished talking to a fellow officer on scene when you spotted Chris. He was looking straight at you in a way that made you pause for a moment, you tried to decipher the look on his face but couldn’t. You had to take a deep breath to get yourself under control before turning back to the job at hand.
You and Ben work to separate the crowd, getting any passers-by to move on and stop loitering, making sure any residents of the building were kept far enough away in case the fire got any worse. You had been working for 15 minutes already when you heard that they had stopped evac and banned anyone from entering due to the instability of the building, sparing a glance over your shoulder you could see the fire now spanned multiple floors and wasn’t slowing down. This only caused the crowd to get more restless as they watched their home burn.
You were focusing on one man who was getting aggressive when you heard a blood-curdling scream. You turned in the direction it came from and saw a woman running through the barrier toward the building. You instantly sprung into action, running after the woman and grabbing her arm stopping her before she got too close.
“No! please let go! My baby!” She screamed tears streaming down her face.
“ma’am please calm down” you tried moving so you stood in her way.
“no, she’s in there! my daughter! I only left to get bread and she’s in there!” the mother screeched trying to push past you.
You had to grab hold of her to stop her, trying desperately to stop her from gaining access to the building. Ben had joined you and was trying to calm her down but it wasn’t working. She then tried to hit you to get you to let go, managing to land blows to your gut and face.
“shit” you winced as she pushed you away causing you to stumble.
You however didn’t hit the floor, instead falling into someone who caught you. Glancing up you realised it was Chris, worry clear on his face, his eyes falling on your lips that had been split.
“you okay?” he asked you as he helped you to your feet.
You struggled to find any words so just nodded your head, before looking over to the woman who had thankfully had been stopped by Ben.
“ma’am the building has been cleared, anyone who was in the building is over there,” Chris says calmly to the woman.
“I’ve checked she’s not there! she’s in there still! Please! She’s only 5! Please you have to save her!” the woman cries shaking her head.
You glance up at the building a feeling of dread settling in your gut as you thought of the girl trapped in the building. You knew the outlook didn’t look good if she was still in there. your eyes then instinctively moved to Chris and you instantly saw the look on his face and realised what he was thinking.
“Chris no…” you start but he interrupted you.
“what apartment?” he asked the woman.
“6C,” She told him quickly.
“Chris no you can’t it's too dangerous!” you say grabbing his hand to stop him, realising he wasn’t wearing the correct gear.
“I have to,” he says quietly before pulling his hand from yours and running towards the building.
You scream his name, the rest of his crew doing the same trying to stop him but it was no use. You tried to run after him but Ben stopped you, leaving you screaming Chris’ name as he ran into the blaze.
Chris wished he could say he wasn’t thinking. But he knew exactly what he was doing. As soon as he heard about the little girl he was reminded of that first big call-out he attended, the way he was unable to save that little boy, and he couldn’t let it happen again.
He raced up the stairs as fast as he could, using his jacket to try and keep as much smoke out of his airways as possible, staying as low to the floor as he could. He dodged flames and tried to ignore the sounds of the creaking building as it got weaker and weaker.
On his way, he’d managed to find an extinguisher and started using it to help clear his path but it was doing little against the roaring fire that surrounded him. Eventually, he got to the sixth floor, quickly finding the apartment he needed. The door was already open from where the team had already swept the apartment giving him hope that the girl had already gotten out.
He still checked though, heading into the fire-filled apartment in search of the girl.
“Hello! Fire Department! Anyone here!” he called out and he started searching.
He continues to call out and search everywhere he could. He was about to give up and head outside when he heard a small whimper behind him. Quickly spinning on his heel he runs over to the wardrobe, ripping the door open he finds the small girl still in her nightie curled up into a ball.
“Hey, hey it's okay we’re gonna get you out of here,” Chris says gently as he crouches down.
The girl nods quickly, despite the tears streaming down her face. Chris could already see a few burns on her arms so decided to remove his jacket and wrap it around her.
“here this will keep you safe okay? Just make sure to cover your nose and mouth” Chris instructs moving the jacket so the collar covered her airways.
“Good now we’re gonna get you out and to your mommy okay? Everything is going to be fine” Chris reassures her as he picks her up and starts carrying her through the apartment.
As he makes his way through the building back down to the street he tries to keep as low as possible to avoid the smoke the step carefully to ensure the flooring didn’t collapse beneath them. He moves as quickly as he could trying not to wince as the flames caught his bare arms. He was just on the final set of stairs when he heard the building groan loudly, he instantly knew what that sound meant and started running, but it was too late the stairs collapse underneath him and the both of them fell to the floor below.
“what the hell is he thinking!” you scream as you try and push yourself out of Ben’s hold.
“Y/N calm down! He’ll be fine, this is what he does!” Ben shouted as he pulled you off to the side.
“he’s not got all his gear on! He doesn’t have a ventilator or even his fucking gloves!” you shout pushing Ben off you.
“he’ll be fine, calm down you’re going to cause a panic,” Ben says grabbing your shoulders and forcing you to look at him.
“you don’t know that! They closed the building off because it was unsafe! What if something happens? What if he doesn’t make it out!” you cry tears rolling down your face.
Ben’s face softens as he squeezes your shoulders “don’t worry he’ll be fine, he’s the best at his job and he’ll make it out okay” he reassures you.
You take a deep shaky breath, hand moving to cover your mouth as you nodded and tried to get control of your emotions, shaking your head as you struggle “I can’t lose him, Benny, I just can’t” you whisper.
“you won’t I promise, he’ll be fine” Ben tells you wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tightly “he’ll be fine”
You nod your head wiping away your tears as you turn to look back towards the building hoping to see some sign that Chris was okay. Glancing over you could see the rest of his crew were getting antsy, all of them shouting at each other, clearly wanting to go in after Chris.
It was at that moment you felt a terrible sensation in your gut, and you instinctively look back at the building. You then hear a horrible groaning noise soon followed by a large crashing sound making everyone duck as flames burst through windows, and glass smashed to the ground. The fire even more intense as it engulfed the entire building.
The world went silent around you, and everything went into slow motion. You felt like you could vomit as you stared at the building Chris was currently trapped in. The crowds around you were more intense and the firefighters had become more frantic but you paid no attention, your knees giving out.
Ben held onto you as you broke down, he was trying to reassure you but you weren’t stupid. There was no way that Chris was coming out now, he never should have gone in. You’d lost him. You weep into your hands, your entire body shaking with grief.
It felt like hours had passed in minutes when you were being shaken by Ben, you tried to push him off but he stops you, pointing at something. You follow his finger spotting Chris stumbling out of the building carrying the little girl. You had to blink a couple of times to make sure weren’t dreaming, but it was definitely him. You’d recognise him anywhere even when he was covered in ash and soot.
You stumble to your feet, a little unsteady as you made your way over to him. You tripped slightly but Ben was right behind you catching you and helping you.
“I told you he’d be fine,” Ben told you but you weren’t paying attention, all you could focus on was Chris.
He’d dropped the girl off at an ambulance before he’d been rushed into one of his own. Once you’d found your footing you ran straight to him, thankfully the paramedic on duty was Emma so she let you in.
“oh my god Chris” you whisper once you got a good look at him.
He was covered in ash and there were burns all over his arms. You could see he was in considerable pain as he winced and let out groans of discomfort. He had an oxygen mask on his face and he was taking deep breaths, coughing occasionally.
As soon as the paramedics were done you rushed to his side “Chris oh my god what were you thinking” you mutter shaking your head.
“Y/N…” Chris breathed out before wincing slightly “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for what I said, I crossed a line and didn’t respect your boundaries” he apologised pulling the oxygen mask from his face so he could talk easier.
“It's okay, it’s okay, I forgive you,” you say sniffling back the tears as you gently brushed his hair back from his face “I’m just mad that you almost killed yourself”
Chris lets out a small huff of a laugh before groaning in pain “I’m sorry for that too” he says.
You couldn’t help but smile “it's okay I forgive you” you chuckle, your hand moving to cup his cheek before sighing deeply “you really scared me, I thought I’d lost you” you whispered “I can’t lose you, you mean too much to me, I- I love you” you admit.
Chris’ hand moves to take yours squeezing it tightly “I love you too” he whispered.
You smile through your tears down at him, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips cautious of his injuries. You felt him smile into the kiss, his hand moving to cup your cheek keeping you there deepening the kiss.
“I’m sorry to interrupt this moment, but we should get you to the hospital,” Emma says stepping back into the ambulance, nodding down to Chris.
“of course, you stay alive okay? I’ll come as soon as I can okay?” you say squeezing Chris’ hand.
“Okay, could- could you call my ma? Tell her I’m okay” Chris asks coughing slightly.
“of course, I’ll see you later” you nod kissing his forehead before heading out of the ambulance to watch it leave.
“so when’s the wedding?” Ben smirks nudging you in the side.
You let out a watery chuckle “shut up” you tell him, despite feeling the happiest you have ever felt.
Chris had never felt so sore in his life. He’d gotten off easy though, only minor burns on his arms and a couple of broken ribs from when he fell through the stairs. He’d saved the little girl though and the nurse had told him she’d make a full recovery, with only a couple of minor burns.
His mom had given him an earful when she turned up at the hospital, telling him how stupid he was for going in without a ventilator. But she soon switches to her usual caring self, telling him to rest up and get better. All he wanted was to see you, but Lisa told him to get some sleep and that she’d wake him as soon as you arrived. He was exhausted so he agreed, quickly falling asleep.
He was half awake when he heard the sound of whispering, it took him a moment but he soon realised you had turned up and were talking to Lisa. Of course, she wasn’t going to wake him up when you arrived, he should have known.
“I’m so glad he’s going to be okay, I don’t know what I’d do if something bad had happened” he heard you whisper.
“I know, but I’m so happy you two have each other, Chris seems so much happier with you around” Lisa sighed happily.
“thank you, he makes me happy too,” you say quietly.
Chris knew he should probably open his eyes and let you know he was awake, he wanted nothing more than to see you and hold you close and make up for all the lost time. But curiosity got the better of him and he wanted to know what you’d say when he wasn’t awake, so he pretended to still be asleep.
“when he isn’t driving me crazy that is” you add with a chuckle, making Lisa laugh gently.
“yes he does have that ability, he was such a terrible teen” Lisa smiled.
Silence falls in the room and Chris almost opens his eyes but then he heard you speak up, a strange tone in your voice “Lisa can I ask you something?”
“Sure anything dear,” Lisa said gently.
“does it get easier? This sort of thing?” you ask quietly.
“what do you mean sweetie?” Lisa asked.
“Knowing he’s going into dangerous situations all the time, knowing something could go horribly wrong and never knowing if he’d make it home,” you say your voice barely above a whisper.
“no, not really” Lisa sighed “when he told me he wanted to be a firefighter like his dad I really tried to talk him out of it, it was hard enough watching his father go off and risk his life, but watching him too was unbearable”
“but there was no convincing him, he’s far too stubborn for his own good, but you get used to it, you trust that he’s not going to do anything stupid and his crewmates will keep him safe, jobs like today are rare and accidents even rarer, but that fear never goes” Lisa continues “it takes a really strong person to date a firefighter, but I’m sure you know that being a police officer”
“yeah” you whisper “I just- I’ve never felt so scared in my entire life, I’ve done some scary things in my career, things that will stay with me for life,” you say, Chris instantly thinking of the active shooter story you’d told him “but today, watching him go into that building and seeing it collapse around him, not knowing if he was dead or alive was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever experienced”
Chris could hear you sniffling and the sound of Lisa getting up and moving to comfort you “I honestly don’t know what I’d do if he’d died today” you muttered through the tears.
“I know dear, I know” Lisa whispered as he comforted you.
Chris suddenly didn’t know what to do. He wanted to wake up fully and reassure you that he’d always be okay, but he couldn’t, there was no way he’d be able to promise that to you. Today was a perfect example, he easily could have died today and he was damned lucky that he only had minor injuries.
He knew how hard it was on his mom, watching both him and his father go fight fires, he saw how terrified she was whenever a fire engine drove past their house. He wished he could make it easier but he couldn’t. the idea of you living in constant fear whenever he went to work didn’t sit right with him, he knew it could only end in disaster. You’d either leave him because you couldn’t handle it, or he’d leave you heartbroken because the worst had happened.
He decided then and there what he had to do, he had to put away his hopeless romantic side for good and end this before anyone got hurt.
He blinked a couple of times ‘waking up’ his eyes falling on yours as you wiped away the last of your tears, solidifying his decision in his mind. When his eyes met yours he saw them light up, you instantly jumped up from your chair and rushed to his side.
“God I am so happy to see you awake” you smile squeezing his hand.
Chris gave you a small forced smile as he swallowed nodding his head “it’s nice to see you too” he said his voice a little hoarse.
“How are you feeling? Does your head hurt?” you ask your hand brushing over his forehead and into his hair.
“good, they’re just keeping me in overnight to make sure the smoke inhalation hasn’t done any damage,” he tells you swallowing slightly.
“Good, that’s good” you smile, but Chris could tell it was just a brave face.
“I’m just going to get us all a drink, I’ll be back in a few minutes” Lisa smiled grabbing her jacket before heading out.
Silence fell in the room as you smiled down at Chris, holding onto his hand gently “you’re gonna be in so much trouble, your captain really wasn’t happy with you” you told him chuckling gently.
“I guess I deserve that” Chris muttered his eyes downcast.
“hey is everything okay? You seem really quiet. Do you feel sick or are in pain or something?” you ask your brows furrowing in concern.
“no I- I just wanted to talk about- about us” Chris muttered, his gaze quickly meeting yours before dropping again.
“oh- um yeah of course, what- what do you want to talk about?” you say stuttering slightly as you tuck some hair behind your ear.
Chris takes a deep breath as he gathers the nerve to tell you what he needed to tell you “what I said… I didn’t mean it” Chris says ripping off the bandage.
He sees you blink a couple of times in shock “what? What do you mean?” you ask.
“I don’t love you, it was the shock and smoke inhalation talking” Chris states keeping his face neutral so he didn’t give away how he was lying through his teeth.
You instantly dropped his hand quickly standing up from your seat “You- you can’t mean that” you stutter shaking your head.
“I do. We’d never work out, it was better when we hated each other” Chris says shaking his head.
You scoff slightly, biting your lip as tears started building up in your eyes, you shook your head “fine, whatever you want Chris” you mutter grabbing your bag and storming out.
Chris dropped his head against his pillow screwing his eyes shut. He hated what he’d just said but he knew deep down it was the right thing to do. You hating him was much better than you love him. You’d realise it eventually, and maybe even thank him one day. It didn’t make it hurt any less though.
“oh, where’s Y/N gone?” Lisa asked surprised when she walked back in.
“work emergency” Chris muttered staring up at the ceiling.
“that’s a shame, but I’m sure she’ll come back as soon as she can” Lisa reassures him putting a hand on his shoulder.
“yeah… sure” Chris sighs.
😬 I’m sorry!!!! Feel free to shout at me in the comments or my ask box!
Sharing is caring so please reblog if you enjoyed this and maybe even leave a comment to make my day!
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#NiamhWrites#Burnin’ up series#Chris Evans#firefighter!au#firefighter!chris#chris evans x reader#chris evans x y/n#Chris evans x you#chris x reader#chris x y/n#chris x you
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requested by: anon, I sincerely hope you like this 💛🌻✨
pairings (platonic): Ubbe Ragnarsson x reader, Ivar The Boneless x reader, Hvitserk x reader, Sigurd x reader, etc.
warnings: none
feedbacks are always welcome!
Since arriving in Kattegat, you had made friends with the sons of Ragnar; being the same age as you were, you spent most of your time together and enjoyed going hunting once in a while
The four boys had immediately noticed that there was something different in you, but they never seemed to be bothered by the looks people gave you. They just guessed that it was because you had arrived to Kattegat alone with your mother, from a land unknown.
However, when they found you talking with your mother one day, they noticed one very important thing: your mother's hands, that were crushing a few herbs with the help of a mortar, were glowing red. At first they thought it was an hallucination caused by the fumes that were being released by the variety of concoctions that were being prepared, but something in the back of their mind told them that it had something to do with magic.
And with that, the sons of Ragnar started talking with you less and less; however, you always felt observed whenever you walked around of wandered off into the forest. Something was clearly wrong, but you couldn't pinpoint what was it exactly.
One day, you decided to go into the forest as to unwind and get some time alone. Your mother too was annoying at times, and the fact that she always knew what was going on in your mind was quite bothering.
Unfortunately, it started raining as soon as you got to your destination. You couldn't walk back home, and you didn't want to either, so you conjured a sword and started training. It wasn't the same without Ubbe or Hvitserk, but it had to do.
However, in the midst of your moment of calm, you were disturbed by a much too familiar sound.
“Y/n”
“Ubbe. What brings you here?”
“I could ask you the same question”
“Fair. As you can see, I wanted to train in the pouring rain. It helps me cool off after hard days.”
“Uhm, are you aware of the fact that not even a droplet of water had reached your head nor your clothes?”
In that moment, you mentally slapped yourself; how could you have not noticed? Your magic wasn't under your control and it was bothering to say the least. You could harness it yes, but not control it to its full potential.
“No, I didn't notice. You already knew it, didn't you?”
“Hvitserk and I saw your mother grinding leaves with her hands glowing red, and we suspected that it was magic”
“Look, if you want me to leave Kattegat, I'll leave. I'm a witch, my mother is a witch. We're abnormalities that shouldn't plague such a nice place like Kattegat.”
“That's not true”
“Oh yeah? Then tell me why you all started ignoring me after seeing— that.”
“We were scared”
“Of what? The seer is much scarier and ominous than a little magic. We never hurt anyone”
“You might, though”
“Yes, like anyone else. Just like any one of the people in Kattegat might accidentally or purposely harm someone. You're pathetic, Ubbe! At first, you act like this is not a problem at all, but then— then you change your mind in the blink of an eye!”
With that said, you walked away and didn't turn around to take a look at your former friend.
A few weeks passed by, and you didn't dare to visit the Ragnarssons. It was a stupid and immature behaviour the one you were carrying out, but you didn't care. Ubbe tried reaching out to you a few times, his brothers, too, but you ignored them.
Unfortunately, you were forced to go with your mother to a banquet held in Kattegat's great hall. She insisted that you come, and you knew that the only thing she wanted was for you to make peace with Ubbe. Needless to say, you were quite nervous.
“Y/n, darling, why aren't you eating your stew?”
“I'm not hungry, mother. And you know the reason why”
“Yes, I do. And your reason has been looking at you for the whole evening, ignoring both his brothers and the girls that keep clinging to him”
“You're kidding”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
“No?”
“Then I don't have a reason to tell you something that differs from the reality of things. Oh, by the way— he's coming towards the two of us. Please, behave appropriately”
“Yes, ma'am”
As soon as your mother finished talking, she sat up and walked over to a few acquaintances of hers, who were standing at the other side of the hall.
“Is this seat taken?”
“Clearly not” “Right”
“Do you have anything important to say, or can I stuff my ears with bread so that I'll never hear your voice again?”
“I want to apologize”
“Well, you took your time...”
“Are you still angry?”
“Obviously! Did you expect me to dance and sing happily in the middle of the room?”
“No, but—”
“But what, Ubbe?”
You started expressing all the frustration and sadness that you were keeping inside. You understood your friend's interaction, it was understandable after all, but somehow coming from him felt like you were pierced by a thousand arrows at once.
Ubbe ended up apologizing afterwards, as he should have way before the banquet, and so did his brothers.
They gave you complete freedom to use your powers whenever you wanted, but they made you promise to help the people of Kattegat whenever you could, so that they didn't see your powers as something potentially harmful.
After a while, kids started approaching you and asking where you got them. “Did Frigga teach you this?” or “Are you a goddess?” they would ask, thinking that what you were doing was pure Seiðr and not a genetic thing that you couldn't help but have.
Nonetheless, you were happy that the people, and especially the Ragnarssons, accepted you. You knew that they were somewhat afraid, your mother told you a couple of times about your friends' thoughts, but you didn't care much.
All that mattered in that moment was happiness; yours, of the princes, of the people. But was it really happiness or just a façade?
#writerdream22#reader insert#gif imagine#requests open#x reader#headcanons#preferences#vikings au#vikings gif#vikings imagine#vikings x reader#ubbe x you#ubbe ragnarsson#ubbe x reader#hvitserk ragnarsson#hvitserk imagine#hvitserk x reader#vikings ivar#ivar the boneless imagine#ivar ragnarsson#ivar ragnarsson imagine#ivar x y/n#ivar x you#ivar x reader#ivar imagine#sigurd x reader#sigurd snake in the eye
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Fugue - 17 - All The Time
Art by @eluvisen. From left to right, Corporal Muriel Aslany, Lieutenant Commander Kaidan Alenko, and Specialist Kara Pendergrass.
Pairing: mShenko
Rating: M
Tags: Angst, Grief, Major (Canonical) Character Death
Summary: Alchera, and the two-year gap.
Chapter Summary: Epilogue
Thank you to everyone who stuck with this story. I started writing it in the fall of 2020, and it’s been the most difficult writing journey I’ve ever taken. Writing Fugue was like fighting a war, and there were many times I didn’t think I would get to the end. The story was too ambitious, outside my scope as a writer, and just too difficult to do justice. But it was very important to me, and I wanted to give it my best shot. The fact that I am posting the epilogue is in large part because of everyone who read it, commented on it, supported it, and encouraged me through it. You believed I could do it when I didn’t. Thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart.
Chapter 17: All The Time | Read on Ao3
23 October 2185, Sol System, Local Cluster, Earth, Vancouver
Light rain starts to fall when Kaidan heads back to his parents condo in Vancouver, a fresh jar of saffron tucked into his pocket that will, at least in his mother’s eyes, save dinner from being a disaster.
Shadows from the surrounding skyscrapers loom large in the quickly fading light as he heads up the street and around the corner, wishing he’d thought to bring an umbrella. The rain and wind with winter on its mind make the last eleven weeks he spent at the Villa a distant memory. Should have grabbed a better jacket.
He shakes rain off his boots as he gets in the elevator, checking his omni-tool one more time to make sure his mother hadn’t thought of anything else she’d forgotten, or worse, Pendergrass had found some way to make the oven explode in his absence. Leaving her and Aslany alone in a confined space with his parents feels like a tactical misstep, but the afternoon had passed without incident, if you didn’t count Pendergrass’ elcor sex joke. Which, given his father’s fifty year career in the military, probably wasn’t anything they hadn’t already heard.
Besides, his mother had laughed.
Light and a blast of warmth spill into the hallway when he opens the door, on the heels of Pendergrass’ laughter. The smell of the stew, Khoresh-e Fesenjoon, made special for Aslany, is enough to make his mouth water. He’s pretty sure the saffron isn’t going to make much difference in the end, but you can’t tell his mother that.
Pendergrass and his father stand in the living room, eyes on the photo wall that his mother has so carefully tended over the years. Normally his mother is the one who tries to embarrass him with old photos, but apparently his father is on duty tonight.
Kaidan kicks off his boots in the foyer so he doesn’t track in the rain and heads to the kitchen, where his mother and Aslany peer into a dutch oven. Aslany has a spoon in her hand and a look of concentration on her face.
“Not sweet enough, is it?” Kaidan’s mother says.
Aslany shakes her head. “Needs more molasses.”
“Or saffron,” Kaidan says, handing her the jar.
“Goodness, is it raining?” his mother exclaims at the sight of him. “Hang on, there’s a few spare towels in your old bathroom, and I can grab one of your dad’s sweaters.”
“I can take care of it,” Kaidan tells her with a chuckle, hand on her arm to keep her from charging out of the kitchen. “Take care of the stew.”
“I don’t know, I think Muriel’s got it,” his mother says, offering Aslany a proud grin. “Don’t think I’m even needed here.”
Aslany ducks her chin, flush building at the back of her neck. Leave it to his mother to be able to charm Aslany right out of the gate. His mother straightens his collar and smiles at him. “Thanks for running to the store.”
“Can’t have a chicken stew without saffron,” he says in mock horror. “What would the neighbors think?”
Her smile deepens, and suddenly she tugs him into a hug. She squeezes him tight before she lets him go.
“What was that for?” he asks.
“Good to see you smile again,” she says, before making a face and wiping at her shirt.
Read from the beginning | Read the rest on Ao3 | The Fugue Playlist
#mass effect#mshenko#kaidan alenko#otp: after all this time#fugue update#the last update#i can't believe it's finished#i hope you enjoy it
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Happy Anniversary!
Synopsis: It's yours and Malcolm's wedding anniversary. How will it go?
A/n: yayyy, a fic! Slightly spicy, very sweet. Thank you to all my readers. This man deserves a soft evening. I know, you know, we all know. Sorry for all my delays.
Why did it have to be a Wednesday? You wondered with a pout as you checked the calendar for the week. Smack dab in the middle of the week! To be completely fair, it was a leap year. And you chose a quiet Sunday afternoon to marry on.
Just, of all days to have your anniversary on? And during this political climate? Really was taking the romance out of it.
Not that you particularly cared past wanting a quiet weekend to come later, but the state of things? Really…
But he deserved a nice evening when he got home. That much was true. That much remained in your mind. Couldn’t you be a good wife and give your husband that?
You rolled your neck as you ventured out to the shops. The cracks and pops, intensely satisfying. It was raining and you could feel it in your bones that it was bound to get heavier as the day dragged on.
You filled up your tote bag and shuffled off.
You were right about the rain. It had only been around thirty minutes and it had gone from a light drizzle to a respectable torrential downpour. You felt yourself muffle a small scream into your jacket’s collar as you buttoned up the final snap before exiting the shop.
It was already afternoon and you decided to text Malcolm a general estimate on how long he thought he might have to stay in Number 10, all things considered.
He didn’t respond until you were already home and stewing in your lack on planning.
‘probs around 8, at best. if after 10 check with Sam. most liekly arrested for killing Mannion. xoxo -m’
You nodded and shut off your phone’s screen after a simple ‘ah.’
You picked up a book and grabbed a packet of crisps to help you while away your time until it was respectable to start dinner and make yourself a treat for his sore eyes. Some damp thriller novel about an autistic scientist who helped the FBI solve crimes. There was a TV based on it. The man from Buffy was in it.
After a few chapters, you looked at the clock on the TV cabinet mantelpiece. It read 19h04. Slamming the book shut, you went to your bathroom and slathered some full body skin-softening mask on and plucked a few errant hairs in your brows before making your way to the kitchen to cook.
Dinner was cooking, you had successfully popped the box-mix cake in the oven.
Time to work on you.
You thought about greeting him in that basic black bra and knickers set that he loved. The one that wasn’t fancy, just made you look phenomenal.
That might be a little too much, so you placed a simple dress, black with some floral print on it. Nothing fancy. You did the bare minimum of make up, just a little something to brighten up your eyes and accent your lips. Yet again, no fanfare. Just simple, attractive. More than a tad sexy.
You just put your hair into a scrunchie and let a few strands frame your face some.
By the time you arrived back in the kitchen it was a few minutes past eight-thirty. No sign of Malcolm yet. You placed everything on warm and set the table up with the flowers you grabbed from the shop and sighed as you clicked on the CD player and fussed about your choice of tunes…
Being a wife to someone already married to their job was exhausting. At least you didn’t really have to work much anymore. He made sure of that.
Not even five minutes later you started to hear him screaming into the phone up your steps. You knew it was showtime.
Hurriedly, you turned down some lights and went to light a few candles.
You quickly grabbed the sparkling fruit drink and poured a glass for him and made your way to the chair that faced the door. You perched yourself on its arm.
“Oh, next time you fucking think about fucking thinking- don’t! You hairless, feckless twat!” You heard him bellow as you also heard the receiver click off. Of course it was on speaker…
You knew that you had two minutes of him fuming and transitioning on the entrance so he didn’t take out his work on you. Not that you couldn’t follow him, tit-for-tat on a good day. It was just a mercy.
The keys popped into the door and he came in, dropping his work bag to the ground and sighing heavily.
“Hey, what’s all this, sweetheart? It’s dark!” He gave you a quick little laugh. The exhaustion from today lay heavily around his eyes. His face trying to smile, despite the previous conversation he had clearly had.
You placed the glass on the entrance table and removed his coat and blazer. You tossed both rather unceremoniously onto the ground and slid the glass in.
“Happy Anniversary?” You said in a tone that wasn’t quite sure of itself…
“Oh, yeah. I thought we were celebrating weekend?” His tone rang almost in reflection to yours.
“Now, what’s the fun in that? Today’s the real day!” You scoffed as you rolled your eyes back into your skull. “Let’s redo that whole entrance. You come in, I give you a drink. I take your coat…I’m wearing a low cut dress, dinners on the table…” You flourished your hand out for him to take advantage your hips punctuated the points just given.
“You didn’t have to do anything, just being here is enough.”
“This is for me.” You said as you leaned in to kiss his lips before he could say anything. “It is my wedding anniversary, you know?”
Malcolm shook his head and sighed. It was a half-second before he let himself be dragged to the table.
You plated very carefully as you put on a show with the candles and twirled the cacio e pepe into a shape that resembled a bird's nest. The green salad was already in tiny bowls next to the plates.
“Artsy. Posh.” He remarked.
“Yeah, keep that delusion up for dessert.” You said as you glanced at the sub-par cake with the word ‘Anniversary’ in writing-icing and an uneven coating of frosting on the other side of the kitchen area. You weren’t close to opening your own bakery any time soon.
You sat down at the table and leaned forward. Just enough for him to see that you were wearing his favorite bra of yours.
“So, I feel like an idiot, but here’s to us.” You offered in toast.
He clicked you glass in toast. His face, clearly incredulous but pleased and indulgent.
Dinner was fine. You listened to him bitch and moan about work, offering a sympathetic ear. That Reeder boy was up to something, you both could feel it. Maybe next time your presence was needed at some event, you’d try to worm your way in and get some insight for your husband.
Why not? You’re very pretty and Malcolm said your smile was both unnerving and disarming. Espionage…
You really were becoming a politician’s wife.
When your dinner portion of the evening was over, you grabbed the cake.
He laughed at your scrawl. “Nigella has nothing on you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” You humbly replied as you pulled your scrunchie a tad bit tighter against your scalp. You also let out laugh.
“So, do you have any more plans?” He probed.
You got out of your chair and straddled his lap. You kissed Malcolm’s forehead as you pulled the fabric of your dress up and positioned yourself directly over his cock.
“Now, that’s up to you, darling.” You smiled and brushed your hands over his temples and rested your fingers intertwined on the back of his skull.
“Oh, maybe. I’m so tired, but hmmn.” He began to ponder it.
You switched gears and slid off his lap and onto your knees.
“I can do a bit of this. Take a load off.” You pawed at his belt and the front of his slacks.
“Yeah, that does sound good.” He groaned in anticipation. “I’ll eat you out until you can’t walk Saturday, yeah? Full fucking wheelchair…” He offered in trade.
“I’ll take that trade.” You smiled and offered your hand to seal the deal.
He took it and shook, then leaned back.
You unbuckled his belt and he helped you slide down his boxers and slacks. He was already stiffening with the prospect of head, as well as probably the sight of you on your knees, all slightly-dolled up and eager to please.
Once he was properly situated, you took one of your hands and placed it on his shaft and started slowly motioning up and down. You leaned down and licked your lips before getting ready to open your mouth and play with his head. You looked up through your lashes and saw his eyes shutter close. He looked a tad bit more relaxed as you went further down his length with your mouth.
You removed the hand keeping you steady and cupped his nuts and stroked them some as you took the hand formerly stroking and put it on the ground.
Keep yourself from losing balance with his dick in your mouth. You could see him relaxing and letting you control the entire situation.
You kept up, succinctly and teasing and licking until he started to buck into the chair.
He was close, so you sectioned you tongue to against the wall of your throat and enclosed yourself all the way down to the base of him…
He came quickly, and you decided to not mess up anything that you had, so you just swallowed and dealt with the taste. You’d grab a tiny extra bite of cake or two.
No big deal!
“There’s a little love.” He mumbled out, looking completely drained, a sleepy smile crawling from ear to ear. “So good, don’t know how I got this lucky.” He said as he stroked your hair with one hand and pet your chin with the other. “Such a little sweetheart…” He tapped the edge of your chin.
You blushed furiously.
After a while, your little party moved to the sofa, you ended up stripping out of the party dress and fancy underwear, opting for a large sweater and a pair of sweatpants. Your husband followed suit and donned his usual fleece and a pair of sweats you swore he stole from you…
You both laid horizontally pressed deep against each other and your socks rubbing together.
Malcolm tossed over a blanket and rested his leg over yours as some program on BBC Two droned on. He tucked your hair behind your neck and rested his chin on the curve of your shoulder and neck.
“I would have been fine with chips and this.” He admitted. “Being married to you is treats enough for me.”
“Now you tell me.” You joked as your eyes glazed over, fixated on the telly.
The rain picked up even harder outside, sharper even still.
#personal#the thick of it#ttoi#in the loop#itl#malcolm tucker#peter capaldi#malcoln tucker x reader#reader x Malcolm tucker#self insert#i wrote this#yayyyy#shamless self indulgence
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This is very self indulgent and touches on quite a few sensitive topics, so feel free to avoid it, if that bugs you. Writing, is my passion, as well as a coping skill. With that said, here’s some angst~! This idea has been stewing in my head for a while. It’s not really an X reader, and is more platonic hurt/comfort. On that note, I hope those who read, find it engaging…
You’d long since grown accustomed to the constant whispering of your mind’s shadows.
Your life, once promising had become an accumulation of your failures.
Perhaps, you were still young.
You still had time, right?
Logically, you knew that the answer was yes, but the discontent within you had reached its boiling point.
You were so bitter.
Maybe, had you done all that you did for yourself, things would have been different.
You could never be truly happy living for someone else’s approval…
You’d learned that the hard way.
Part of you, however, ached for that sense— An absent figure in your life, yet by far, the most impactful.
Should you hate that person?
No—
Could you hate that person?
You doubted it.
Even after all the unfortunate happenstances that led to where you were now —
((Some of them your own fault and some of them not—))
You still loved them.
With all of your heart.
In the end, you only ended up hating yourself…
You were surrounded by such amazing people—
They did so much.
What did you do?
Nothing of substance.
You could only hope to at least serve as a stepping stone for them—
((You’d long since given up on yourself…))
When you were younger, if someone had asked you what you envisioned your future to be like—
You’d have offered some sort of career, a goal— Back then, it seemed reasonable.
Now?
Now, you could barely picture how you’d be within the next week, let alone a few years….
You’re still young.
Sometimes, being young just isn’t enough.
.
.
.
“Do you have a good relationship with your parents, Cheshire?”
You glanced at the blonde, ignoring the tightness in your chest, as you responded.
“Yeah, we’re on pretty good terms. What about you, Skull?”
The blonde shrugs, seemingly nonchalant.
“Well, I have a pretty great Mom…”
You nod at his statement, and the two of you fall into an awkward silence.
It’s times like this, that you wish Ren were present, but you knew that wasn’t fair—
He’d asked you and Ryuji to investigate.
You’d said yes, of course…
Ren was your friend.
He was your only friend, really—
The sole reason you’d joined the Phantom Thieves was because of Ren….
You’d never really been one to socialize, and the rest of the Phantom Thieves, were no exception…
Even after you had confronted your own darkness, you still had trouble being in the presence of such light.
At times, you still felt undeserving of all of this, but despite that…
Ren’s, no Joker’s hand, was outstretched and to you—
‘I’m not used to others looking for me.’
‘Why?’
.
.
.
“I’m not a good person,” you protested, staring at the hand in front of you in disbelief. The masked figure laughed, shaking his head in disagreement.
“I don’t think a bad person would put such an emphasis on not being good— You’re worried about disappointment, right? Don’t be. Worrying about things that haven’t happened yet… You only ever suffer more.”
You gnawed the inside of your cheek, wishing desperately that you could believe his words— It was so much easier said than done. He paused, lowering his hand some, yet—
It was still outreached.
You could grasp it if you wanted to.
“It’s not going to change right away, but if you try, then there’s the potential. Something tells me you haven’t given up on yourself yet… Come with me?”
He prompted, and as if you’d been waiting for those words your entire life, you grasped his hand—
It felt like he was offering salvation and something else you couldn’t quite place—
.
.
.
Skull sighed, drawing your attention to him. You glanced at him, slightly concerned.
“Is something wrong?” You asked, keeping your tone soft.
It was still strange, speaking to him—
He was the only one you’d spoken to, actually…
You were still fairly new and actually—
Today was your first time helping them with a palace, wasn’t it?
“It’s just like- We’re not all gonna bite ya or somethin’ if you talk to us, yanno? I mean, I get it— Joker’s the type of person that makes everyone feel comfortable. He’s safe n such, but… We’re not bad, either!!!”
Ryuji’s words made your chest clench, but not in the dark and twisted sense you’d grown used to— No, it was more light and dare you think it, hopeful…
“I shouldn’t be surprised you can read me so well… You’re a Phantom Thief, after all…You change hearts often, right? Why would reading them be any different…”
Skull snorts at that, his posture relaxing some, but then he turned to face you—
“You’re a Phantom Thief, too.”
That statement shook you to your very core and perhaps that—
That was when you realized, that maybe this—
This was what Ren had been offering.
People who accepted you—
A place to call home.
For once, the smile on your face felt genuine and you nodded at Ryuji’s words.
“Yeah, I guess so…”
The blonde pumped the air enthusiastically, seemingly more relaxed.
“Woo! Okay good. That was a lot, yeah? Anyways, now that that’s over with!!! Chesire, after this!’ You gotta join us to hangout some at LeBlanc, kay?”
You nodded in agreement, and you found that you meant what you said next—
“…I’m looking forward to it…”
#persona 5#platonic only#persona 5 x reader#platonic! Ren x reader#Platonic! Ryuji x reader#ren amamiya#ryuji sakamoto
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Behind the Keyboard-Volume 13
Please note that Behind the Keyboard will be posted once per week during the Reading Challenge. We’ll go back to twice a week in mid-August.
Behind the Keyboard is a series of interviews with different Schitt’s Creek fanfic authors. The series will last as long as there is interest (from authors) and capacity (from me). If you are an author from the Schitt’s Creek fandom who would like to participate, send a DM to this account.
Each author was given ten questions. The first five questions are the same for every author, the last five will vary.
Remember, this year’s Reading Challenge begins July 15, so polish up those MFL lists.
Let’s meet our next author:
@shimmies / shimmies
How many fics have you written?
I think I’m up to 38! I post some of my art to ao3 so that bumps my total count to 44.
When did you publish your first fic on AO3?
2020. I watched Schitt’s Creek that spring/summer. I specifically remember looking for David/Patrick fic after watching Grad Night, and was a lurker for a while. Eventually I was like, hey! I could do this too! Why am I not already doing this?
Describe your writing process from “Oh, I have an idea” to pushing publish on AO3.
If I have an idea/scene/line pop into my head I basically can’t accomplish anything in real life until I get it written down. But these come to me in so many different ways. Sometimes I hear a song and I force myself to craft a plot to fit my interpretation of it. Sometimes I vividly see a scene in my head and struggle for days to choose a title. Sometimes I’ll write an entire fic within a couple hours of its inception. Sometimes I’ll write down a line of dialog and stew over it for weeks before either fleshing out the story or finding it a spot in another WIP.
In general I do like to start with an outline but I’m a “path of least resistance” kind of person, so I work on whatever is coming to me at the moment. Nothing has to happen in a particular order or with a particular method.
Tell me about your most recent fic? What do you love about it? Is there anything you think you could have done better?
My last published fic was RPF ( hope i'll see you down the line ), which I fully understand is not everyone’s cup of tea, then some Outer Range stuff before that. So for the sake of this semi-public statement I will consider my last Schitt’s Creek fic, Alarm C(l)ock. I published it in March and it was the first thing I’d finished since Frozen Over in December. I had been feeling so uninspired for so long, so what I love most is it was a really nice boost for my creative energy and self esteem and definitely got the gears turning again. If I went back and looked for stuff to improve I’m sure I would come up with a hundred little tweaks, but I really don’t like doing that. [Editor’s note: shimmies has since published (Not) Being Left Behind Again and Tuning In On You both for the Schitt’s Creek fandom.]
What advice would you give to someone who’s thinking about publishing their fic for the first time?
This is going to sound super cliche but the fandom experience is whatever you make of it. Want to share your work with others? We’re here for it! Publish it and change your mind? Delete it! Asexual smut writer? Cool! Are the comments and kudos what keep you going? Reblog that fic from last month! Life’s too short to let a hobby make you unhappy or uncomfortable!
Plot vs vibes - pick one.
Hmm, I think vibes. Sure, a good plot will keep the pages turning (metaphorically), but when you find that fic that turns you into the human equivalent of the inside of a roasted marshmallow BUT IN THE BEST POSSIBLE GOOEY WAY? Heaven.
What parts of writing are easy for you? What parts are hard?
I’ll start with the hard part which is finding free time, inspiration, and motivation all lining up at the exact same time. It’s a miracle I’ve ever gotten anything accomplished at all.
I would say the planning of a story is probably easiest for me. I’m a planner by nature so usually I’ll have a good idea of the progression of a story (in a bulleted outline, of course) before I even start writing any scenes in detail.
In your mind, what’s the most important element of good writing?
Do your research and get your details correct! Whether it’s rewatching scenes so you know the character better, learning about a culture being represented, or whatever is relevant to your story, it’ll feel natural when it’s done well but it’s hard to ignore when it’s done badly. (This is not a callout of anything/anyone in the fandom! You’re all awesome!)
Tell me about one of your favorite headcanons.
Patrick is not actually allergic to cats, and he just freaked out because his crush’s sister started flirting with him. He has to come clean when David catches him feeding a friendly stray cat that hangs around outside their store. He and David have a minimum of 2 cats at all times post-canon.
What are your three favorite tropes?
This is so tough but I’ll say forced proximity, fake dating, and accidental confessions, but each with a healthy dose of mutual pining.
#behind the keyboard#meet the authors#sc fic reading challenge#sc reading challenge#sc fanfic#schitts creek#schitt’s creek
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Two dope fiends and a Hippie
So here’s todays advice and a true story in the life of Niko. It all started with a random act of kindness from a friend of a friend who didn’t know me until my slumlord/landlord made it impossible to live where I do anymore. He gave me some advice and went out of his way to be kind and offered to drive me around to try to find somewhere else I might be able to live. It was fruitless but filled with dreams exchanged and stories of origin and how our very different paths came to cross. It was encouraging and taught me a lot as these random acts of kindness always do and I was dropped off by the time rush hour traffic began so I could spend a little quality time with my dog Billie, pack up my 100lbs of equipment and hop a bus to the French Quarter to go hustle in my musical boot camp. It was sweltering but not too many obstacles to get there but emotionally it was the very definition of a grind. I set up, fixed my makeup and started to play. I always say I’m not going to be just a human jukebox and play only what passers by yell out but it was a delving day that defines you as you allow the world to have its way with you in search of your dream. I wasn’t even 15 minutes into playing when this tiny imp approached me with obviously stolen cigarettes that she couldn’t use because she didn’t smoke at least she didn’t partake of tobacco she obviously had other things to smoke in mind. She was all of about 80lbs and in a bad way and I’m a soft touch so I traded $5 for a brand I can’t usually afford in the hopes that maybe we might mutually find some kind of temporary pleasures in our separate daily vices. I try not to judge and she was kind, soft spoken and respectful so why not save myself another trip to the over priced stores in the Quarter? I mean Jesus ended up a Rockstar of sorts because of the compassion he showed to lepers and whores so maybe I should be aiming for that too. She thanked me and said she’d check on me later to see if I wanted another, I thanked her and went back to work entertaining the masses hoping for more miracles. Several hours in just before midnight a kind faced hippie baring a striking resemblance to Jerry Garcia strolled up dropped a $20 in the case and sat on the curb to really listen like most people are unable to do because of the plague of terminally short attention spans since Covid. I started to play one of my originals about my brother Jason and prefaced it by saying, This 1 I wrote when my brother was shot 3 weeks after we started recording my 1st album and died 4 times.” He listened l, I mean like how old women test a time consuming stew they worked all day on. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw dope fiend ‘Rage’ storm up. I call him that for obvious reasons he for years had just been an angry rage filled black boy with unkept dreadlocks, usually (like tonight) shirtless, pissed at everything and sweating profusely. At 1st it was mostly gibberish aimed at God and anybody in his vicinity, then he focused on me. My stomach dropped immediately as I put down my guitar, turned off my Cube amp and reached for my tazer and pepper spray. Because I’m kind and a child of God and the Universe I fired up the tazer and informed him I am no punk and I was not bluffing I had every intention of using both (and secretly I wanted to see if it was like it looked on ‘Cops’ and quite honestly I guess I have a bit of a sadistic side having been violated far too many times) but it did little to deter his raging as he kept approaching and walking away, going around the corner and coming back even angrier. Jerry Garcia and I did our best to ignore him, to talk him down from a bad decision to fuck with a fed up woman, such as I am but he wasn’t hearing any of it. And I’m standing there blocking my very pricey equipment firing up the tazer several times to show I mean business as he’s yelling that he wants to rape at least one of us like his Daddy did to him and he pulled out a make shift litttle shive he had made and kept approaching while I was reporting the threat to the police station…
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so ive had this idea for an amphibia fangame for a lil while now-
(LONG post)
its based around the idea that sometime after anne got sent back to earth, she decides to sneak out one night to visit sasha and marcys bedrooms and poke through their stuff. this causes a bunch of memories to come back to anne through flashbacks while she tries to process everything thats happened and her feelings abt their friendship.
i was thinking itd be mostly a visual novel type thing. maybe with a few small choices, but the story would be mostly linear. thered be around 3 main story beats: a prologue bit w/ anne sneaking out of her house, marcys bedroom, and sashas bedroom. also one of the main mechanics would be looking at one of their bedrooms and clicking on random objects of importance and triggering a flashback sequence.
it came from the idea that anne will probably try to just shove all her emotions down and try to ignore her feelings abt true colors and everything that went down then. especially with what we saw in the sneak peek, anne will probably try to hide her emotions and bottle them up, which is obviously not healthy. so eventually shes gonna have to work through her emptional baggage and try to process everything.
i havent thought through EVERYTHING just yet, just some more major plot points and maybe one or two ideas for flashbacks. nothing too solid yet. but heres a bit more detailed runthrough of the plot
summary - prologue
so it would start off with anne at home. she and her mom are talking outside annes room. her moms concerned abt how annes been handling everything that happened in amphibia but anne keeps brushing everything off. her mom tries to get her to open up, but she keeps dismissing her and eventually shuts herself in her room. after taking a bit to cool off and think anne decides that shes gonna take the night to just ride off her emotions and stop repressing them for once. she also makes an impulsive decision to sneak out and check out marcy and sashas rooms.
anne goes to gather her stuff in her room, and just as shes about to climb out the window, sprig walks in to check on her. hes still rly concerned abt his big sis but he knows he cant stop her. he tries to go with anne, but she tells him she needs to do this on her own. so, sprig lets her go and tries to cover for her while shes gone.
so at this point i’ll probably give the player the choice of whose house to visit first. it doesnt rly impact the story or whatever, but i guess it might have a small emotional impact depending on whose house u choose to go to first??
(quick note: after this bit, there arent too many specific details for the plot and stuff like that. its largely just an overall idea of how the plot is gonna go. and even then, there isnt much to it. i didnt think that far ahead yet, which is why there isnt as much refinement yet. so far i just have general ideas for how annes gonna get to the bedrooms, with a couple of vague flashback ideas. just keep that in mind; this whole thing is still being thought over and planned as im typing this out)
summary - sasha
with sasha, annes still rly conflicted abt how she feels abt her. of course shes still rly hurt by being backstabbed by her twice and swordfighting her as many times. but as much as she hates sasha she cant bring herself to fully give up on sash. she hates her guts but deep down shes still willing to give sash another chance.
there may or may not be a small sequence where anne has to sneak into sashas house, but eventually she works her way into sashas room. im not entirely sure abt the details of sashas house n her family yet. im probably gonna wait for info from s3 until i solidify anything, but for now i do know that sashas family has a big house n theyre probably rich.
so anne goes into sashas room and its been left pretty much untouched ever since annes birthday, save for the few times someone came in to dust things off. again, dont rly have all the details for sashas room, but it kind of has a vibe of controlled chaos, with organized clutter and a bit of a touch of a rebellious teen girl. one detail i do want to have is a calendar opened up to the month the trio disappeared, with annes birthday circled and highlighted so much that its impossible to miss.
the calendar itself might include a flashback. im thinking of also having a varsity jacket and some old stuffed animal be different “artifacts” that trigger their own memories. there’ll be a bunch more, but those are the only ideas i have so far fjsbndnd
summary - marcy
ok so i want to be rly mean about marcys segment: this is going off the theory that marcys parents moved away while the trio was in amphibia.
anne doesnt know this yet tho, so shes in for quite a surprise when she turns onto marcys street to find a realtor sign on the front lawn. the clues are all there: an empty driveway, sign on the lawn, an overall empty vibe coming from the house. but it doesnt completely register at first. its not til anne actually comes up close does she notice the sign.
anne tries to deny it, and decides to prove to herself that “no marcys parents wouldnt do this. theyre not that cruel. im just gonna check marcys room myself.” the front doors locked, so she just goes over to marcys window and climbs in.
but its completely empty.
ok not totally empty, but a lot of marcys furniture and stuff is gone, except for a few stray toys and other “junk.” the home guys (idk what theyre called????) are still kind of in the process of cleaning everything out, so theres still some stuff left here and there around the house. but its still way too empty. and its yet another gut punch for anne.
anne searches the rest of the house a bit more, hoping that shes just hallucinating. but no, marcys parents are really gone. she tried to deny it before, but now she has more of an idea of how shitty the wu parents are. so anne decides to just mope around in marcys old room, checking out the stuff their parents left behind.
maybe she finds an old blanket marcy liked when he was rly young. or an old rubiks cube from marcys vast collection. a cnc figurine, some cards, a pride flag, and old diary? a couple of other old toys, an old report card or two, or maybe even some stray clothes. whatever anne finds, its all thats left of marcy, at least in LA.
it really doesnt leave anne in that much of a better emotional position. she already felt conflicted enough about what happened in true colors and what she found out abt marcy. but seeing even a small glimpse of what marcy was dealing with, it just makes her more confused. marcy was such a sweet kid! theres no way they couldve done anything wrong. yet here anne was, betrayed by both of her childhood friends.
only now is anne really taking the time to process the fact that marcy essentially kidnapped her and sasha with the calamity box. he didnt mean to do it, and theres no way they couldve known the box would actually work, but it doesnt completely excuse marcy. his actions still hurt anne and sash, and while they meant the best of intentions, it didnt rly come through that way.
and now marcy was dead. stabbed in the back by the newt king.
and now annes curled up in an empty bedroom, wrapped up in one of marcys old blankets, trying to wrap her head around her feelings about marcy while reminiscing in the past.
summary - extras/epilogue??
i kind of like the idea that anne ends up drifting off in which ever bedroom ended up being the second one she visited. she slowly comes back to consciousness, with her surroundings feeling somewhat familiar, only to wake up in horror bc “OH SHIT I FORGOT TO GO BACK HOME” im not completely sold on the idea tho bc it feels a bit abrupt and like too much of a tone shift?? idk it doesnt feel exactly right
but anyways, im also playing around with the idea of a small epilogue scene with the calamity trio hanging out in annes room, a good amount of time after amphibia ended. dont know what theyre doing in there, but theyre just chilling and feeling a bit nostalgic i guess.
but uh yeah thats pretty much what ive got for the overall idea. it doesnt feel too out of reach, but somethjng like this would definitely be ambitious. i could mayyyybe handle writing out the vn and drawing the character sprites, but i have no idea how to code a vn or draw detailed backgrounds, both of which would be pretty important to this fangame fjsndj. so i might consider having help with this.
THIS ISNT ANY SORT OF PROMISE OR WHATEVER. id rly love to follow through and make this fangame a thing, but im not making any guarantees. i have no idea if i’ll actually follow through, but i would definitely love to.
who knows. maybe in like a couple years this might actually become a thing. but for now i have no idea
#JEEZ THAT WAS LONG YIKES#but uh yeah thats my amphibia fangame idea#i came up with this in the shower#not joking#its been stewing in the back of my mind for at least a week#but i finally put the main jist of it in a tumblr post :D#ive got a whole notes page for the outline(?)#still trying to figure out the flash backs bit of it#but im glad this actually has some sort of structure#idk i just wanted to put this idea out there#see what y’all think??#hopefully i’ll try to make it a thing#idk tho#we’ll have to just wait and see ig#amphibia#jace rambles#long post#anne boonchuy#sasha waybright#marcy wu#just realized i still havent thought of a name yet :/ oh well#amphibia spoilers#amphibia au#??#amphibia fangame#saving this
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Hi! I would love if you could write something for supercorp with “I hope our kid takes after you.”. Thank you!
some v domestic supercorp from the prompt list! (happiness 12 I believe)
"I hope our kid takes after you."
Lena’s not quite sure when Kara’s kitchen became her own.
She knows where every dish is, knows where Kara keeps her spices, her utensils, her canned goods. There are things in the fridge that are hers, crackers in the cupboard that Kara bought because she likes them. It’s possible she knows Kara’s kitchen better than she knows her own, at this point, considers it as much hers as she does Kara’s.
She rarely cooks at her apartment. She tells herself she doesn’t have the time, opting for takeout or frozen meals instead. But it’s become something of a routine to cook at Kara’s, and often several nights a week finds them holed up in Kara’s kitchen, trying new recipes and arguing about vegetables. It was an easy transition from their old routine of weekly restaurant or bar hangouts—just one night where Lena was too tired to go out and Kara suggested this instead of calling off the occasion completely.
Somewhere along the way, it became their new normal.
Lena’s standing at the stove, stirring a pot of lentil curry. It’s one of the only completely vegan dishes that she can convince Kara to eat, so she makes it as often as she can whenever she cooks. Outside, the November wind moans, blowing uneven patters of rain across the windows of Kara’s kitchen. It’s warm and dry inside, though, the air spiced by the stew, the kitchen lights soft and orange. The radio’s on, faintly playing ABBA songs, and Lena hums quietly along as she stirs. At the sink, Kara washes the dishes as Lena dirties them, her hair tied back in a messy bun at the nape of her neck.
The song ends, and the next one begins: Andante, Andante, in its sweet swinging rhythm.
“Oh, I love this song,” Lena says, swaying as she stirs. She abandons the curry when the lyrics begin, still holding the wooden spoon as she spins slowly around the kitchen to the rhythm, holding out her arms as though dancing with an invisible partner.
Kara turns to watch her, grinning and leaning her elbows back on the edge of the sink, and Lena reaches for one of her sud-soaked hands as she passes by. Kara laughs and stumbles after her. She ducks under Lena’s arm in a messy spin and then pulls herself close, her other hand finding Lena’s hip. They waltz around the kitchen, Kara lifting her arm to spin Lena this time as she sings along to the few words of the song she knows, Andante, Andante.
It’s the kind of moment in time that stretches, unhurried and unimportant but sweet like honey. The kind of moment where it feels like there’s nowhere and no one else in the world.
“You’re so perfect,” says Kara, smiling as they sway together. “I hope our kids take after you, some day.”
Lena hums, the swell of joy warm and soft in her chest. Kara’s hand sits comfortable on her hip as the music swells, too, and they sing along and laugh and spin around and around in the warm bubble of their kitchen in a way that feels infinite, in a way that seeps light into every dark corner.
The song ends, and Lena breaks away, dragging her hand away from Kara’s slowly until only their fingertips touch and then break apart, reaching for each other across empty air. She laughs, turning back to her curry. It takes until Kara, doing dishes again, drops a bowl and curses softly for her to register the words properly.
“Kara?” she says, hands freezing on the lid of the rice she’s putting on.
“Mmhm?”
“What was that you said? When we were dancing?”
Kara looks up at her, confused. She seems to struggle to remember for a moment, and then her face brightens. “Oh! I said I hope our kids take after you. You, know, because you’re perfect, and everything. I want them to be just like you. Sweet and smart and fun and kind.”
“Okay,” says Lena. “Right. That’s what I thought you said.”
“Great.” Kara turns back to her dishes.
“Kara?”
“Yeah?”
“You don’t see anything… weird about that statement?”
Kara’s hands pause in the sink, and she looks up, nodding her head slightly as though replaying the words in her mind. Then her eyes go wide.
She says, “Oh my god.”
“Yeah.”
Kara claps a dripping hand to her mouth. “I said… and I haven’t even…”
“Our kids,” Lena says. “Our kids.” She grins, and there’s something in her chest expanding, growing warm and bright and alive. “When were you planning to tell me I knocked you up, Miss Danvers?”
“Shut up,” laughs Kara. “Fuck.”
“One thing, Kara.”
“Yeah?”
“People who want kids together are usually married. Or at least dating.”
“Generally, yes, I think that’s a fair statement.” She’s turned around again to look at Lena, leaning back on the counter with a sweet smile on her face. Lena props her spoon up on the inside of the pot and moves to stand in front of her, her fingers grazing across Kara’s forearms.
“Is that a dream of yours?” she asks. “Having kids with me one day? Something you think about when you’re falling asleep? Growing old and… becoming grandparents and… waking up together every morning, forever?”
And Lena isn’t sure whose late-night fantasy she’s describing, because it’s a dream that’s come to her, too, in the delirious, half-awake moments where she let herself believe it possible.
Kara’s arms drape around her waist, pulling her closer so they’re pressed together, Lena’s hands curled against her chest. “Sometimes,” she whispers.
“I didn’t know you felt that way, darling.”
“Didn’t you, though?” Kara smiles softly. “We do this multiple times a week, you basically live here. Everyone’s half convinced we’re dating already. I’d probably spend every night like this, if I could.”
Lena brushes a hand across her cheek, thinking that she could easily fall into nights like this for the rest of her life, and murmurs, “So would I.” When Kara leans into her palm, she adds, “I’m not sure I’m quite ready for kids yet, though.”
“We could start smaller,” says Kara.
“Yeah? How’s that?”
“I think, usually, before they think about having children together, people start with a kiss.”
“Oh, is that so?” says Lena.
“Yup. That’s step one.”
“A kiss.” Lena studies Kara’s features from an inch away, lets her fingers roam feather soft across them: the set of her blue eyes, the flutter of her fair eyelashes, the divot of a scar beside her eyebrow. She runs her thumb over Kara’s lips. “I think I could manage that.”
They have a penchant for doing things out of order, thinks Lena. Because it’s after they’ve been doing something like dating for years, after she’s learned every nook of Kara’s home and heart like they’re her own, after they’ve discussed having children and growing old together, that they share their first kiss.
Her hands slide into Kara’s hair as she sinks into it, like the final piece of a puzzle piece falling into place, and they kiss to the background track of rain on the windowpanes, the fan on the stove, ABBA still singing in the background.
On the stove, the rice bubbles over, long forgotten.
#supergirl#supercorp#kara danvers#lena luthor#supercorp fic#supercorp fanfic#this is like. sickeningly fluffy#domestic supercorp my loves#I was making lentil curry and listening to ABBA the day i wrote this#it's a delicious recipe if anyone wants it#asks#prompts#anon#bluewritingbench writes#bluewritingbench ficlets
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Request: Fairy Hyrule, Minish Four and Bunny Legend cuddlefic? Mostly because I love the idea of hugging a bunny ten times your size. THINK OF THE (literal) FLUFF AND SOFTNESS
So... I got a bit caught up in the WHY of them all being Small, and... this happened.
It all got deleted halfway through and I had to rewrite it from memory, but it turned out okay (although I don't like the flow as much this time through), bt it's... a bit long. This baby was ten pages, and it took forever to get to the cuddling bit- sorry about that.
Anyways, Anon, here is your (long overdue) Tiny fic (it ain't tiny).
The others are laughing and it’s making him mad. Usually, he’s just smack them over the head (a much good as it would do, curse his weak arms) but usually he can reach that high.
Right now, he can’t.
Because right now, he’s a freaking rabbit
He’s a little pink rabbit sitting in the middle of a circle of heroes who are all laughing at him, and more than anything he wants to hop his freaking furry tail over to Warrior’s horrid choice of footwear and bite the shit out of the captain’s ankles; he deserves it (the rancher does to).
“How did this happen?” Hyrule wheezes out, and even though he wants to be, Legend finds that he can’t be mad at the healer, not when the kid’s face is flushed with laughter, his smile bright and carefree, golden gaze watery under the force of his bell-like laughter as it pricks at Legend’s sensitive ears.
“I don’t know!” Twilight wheezes from where he’s leaning against Time, hearty chuckles exploring from him unabashedly as he looks down at Legend. “We were scouting around the camp and when I turned around,” He gestures weakly to the veteran, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Rabbit!”
Legend scowls. He doesn’t even know what happened. One minute he was walking and the next he was tumbling head over paws on the pathway. He’d refused to let Twilight carry him back to camp (if only to try and maintain whatever dignity he had left) and had waited hopefully for Twilight to retrieve the Master Sword for him, only for Warriors to stumble upon him with the darkest expression he’s ever seen on the captain’s face.
Warriors’ expression at seeing a rabbit might very well haunt Legend’s dreams for ages to come, and had prompted a squeak of fear from him that had sent Sky darting up from his seat. “Legend!” The Chosen Hero had shouted, concern in his sky-blue eyes as he had skidded to his knees at Legend’s side, cautious hands scooping him up and inspecting him for injuries in the brief moment where he was too shocked to protest. Of course, he wouldn’t stand it for long, and after pawing at Sky’s fingers with angry huffs and squeaks that he was going to hope the others would forget about, he had been released back onto the ground.
Which landed them where they were now, surrounded by cackling heroes as they stared down at the fluffy pink ball of fur that was their salty veteran.
“Wow vet, I’d’ve never guessed, a rabbit?” Warriors wheezes, eyes full of mirth. “No wonder we don’t get along!”
He rolls his eyes and growls as best as he can as a rabbit (not like he can growl anyway, but he tries none-the-less). “Just hand over the Master Sword so we can get this shit over with.” He squeaks, ignoring how his growls sound more like honks and chitters than anything threatening.
Sky looks at him oddly, as do several of the others, none of them (save Twi and Sky) apparently expecting him to be able to speak in this form, but the Chosen Hero obliges regardless, reaching back for the Master Sword and carefully settling it within Legend’s reach.
The cool cross-guard is comfortable under his paws, even if it is too big, and he sighs in relief as the power of the blade flows over him. In a moment, his form will disappear into the light and reappear, whole and Hylian, and fully capable of kicking some rancher ass.
Just a moment....
A second more...
He blinks his eyes open, violet flitting across the blade in mounting concern as he takes in the fluffy pink paws that are where his hands should be. Why isn’t it working? Why is he still a helpless rabbit?
“That’s weird.” Twilight and Sky both murmur, exchanging a worried glance as the Skyloftian retrieves the blade. He lunges after it though, not giving Sky a chance to inspect the blade and instead startling him with the weight of a rabbit in his lap as pink paws reach up to grasp the sword hilt again.
“Fi, explain.”
The sword spirit’s voice rings clear and cool in his head as Sky lowers the blade further, better into his reach. He hardly processes the motion, so focused on the words, which is perhaps why he doesn't question the stabilizing hand that lowers onto his back.
“Young Master,” Fi chimes softly in his mind. “The forces which have transformed you are not dark in nature. There is a 76% chance that they are in fact, of nature themselves. As such, my blade is unable to undo the curse. You will likely have to wait until this curse runs its course.”
“How long.” He grates out, nose shivering in irritation as his ears flick back, brushing gently against the Skyloftian's fingers and making Sky gasp softly.
“Processing....There is a 49% percent chance that this curse will fade and return you to your Hylian form in approximately three days' time, and there is a 27% percent chance that it will take a week for said change to occur. Additionally, there is a 15% percent chance that the curse will not fade, and a 9% chance that this curse will make you explode.”
A strangled screech escapes him and he doesn’t even realize his paws have released the sacred blade until they are grasping at his ears, tugging with all of the pent-up emotion inside of his body as he processes the words. Never mind the exploding bit, he might not turn back? There’s only a fifty-fifty chance that he’ll turn back in the next few days?
Sky’s long fingers drag through his fur gently, rubbing soothing circles over his back. “What did she say?”
“Three days!” He tugs his ears again. “Three days of being utterly useless and helpless, and it’s not even certain that I’ll turn back! I could be stuck like this forever! I could explode!”
“Exploding doesn’t seem likely-” Twilight attempts to calm him, but it only makes him tug his ears harder.
“Fi said it might happen!” He shouts back, high pitched and squeaky, and hating every second of it. He buries his face in the fabric beneath him, his rabbit heart pounding with panic and cold dread washing over him as the words continue to spew from his mouth. “And if Fi said it could happen than it might! And we were about to go into battle too! What’ll happen if someone gets hurt? I can’t help anyone and there's absolutely nothing that stupid bunny could do and-”
Someone’s scratching his ears.
Long fingers rubbing just right between them and Legend is helpless to tell them to stop because he’s too busy melting into a puddle in Sky’s lap at the sensation. All thoughts flee as he lets Sky’s hands drive away all worries. Should he be worried that he’s rendered speechless and vulnerable by something so simple? Probably, but Sky seems to know just how to place his hands and Legend can only hum in appreciation at the feeling, a squeaky purr escaping him as he leans into the sensation as Sky hums something soft and soothing under his breath. The vibrations carry down his fingers and tingle down Legend’s spine, calming him further.
“Cute.” Twilight's voice breaks him from his thoughts, and he’s pulling back from Sky’s hands and glaring up at the rancher with all the fury he can fit in his now tiny body.
“He’s not wrong, Kit.” Time chuckles soft and low, and Legend whips his head around to stare at the man.
“Oh no, you are not giving me a nickname!”
“Yeah Time,” Sky’s voice is low and mirthful as he speaks, hand once more settling on Legend’s back as he lifts an arm to block the vet from launching himself at their leader. “He’s my descendant, if anyone should be giving him a nickname it’s me.”
“How about Nibbles?” The sailor grins, leering into Legend’s space with enough mischief in his gaze to kill a Lynel. “I mean, the vet is always chewing us out.”
He forgets for a moment that his growls sound more like chirps in this form, baring his teeth at the sailor as he attempts to frighten him off. It doesn’t work, rabbits aren’t made to scare off bigger animals “So help me sailor I-”
Large hands scoop him off the ground and suddenly he’s being cradled in Sky’s arms. Like a baby. The indignity! “Calm down, Bun, he’s just kidding.” Sky’s crystal eyes glimmer with genuine concern as he looks down at Legend. “And we’ll find a way to change you back, I promise. The goddesses wouldn’t have let you change like this if it was for the worse. You’ll see,” Sky bops his nose with a smile entirely too pure. “It’ll be fine.”
Legend would like to argue that point, the goddesses have never shown any particular interest in what’s best for him before, and most of them seem to find humor in ruining his life time and again (except the Golden Trio, they’re alright he guesses, especially Din), but Sky looks so certain and Legend’s honestly too tired to start a big fight about Hylia again. (Heaven knows the last time he made Sky mad he nearly shat himself at how terrifyingly defensive Sky could get about those he loved). It doesn’t matter anyway, he supposes, as Sky’s already standing and making is way back to their main camp, gait just smooth enough not to jostle his reluctant passenger as Legend slumps in place.
He might as well let this happen, at least until he can figure out how to fix it.
It’s official.
Legend hates being a bunny.
They’ve settled down for dinner and as if to mock him and all that he loves, Wild has been struck with the inspiration to make his absolutely heavenly radish stew. The one that Legend would literally sell some of his rings for because it is that good.
And he can’t eat it.
He tried, and that attempt resulted in both himself and Sky covered in broth, the thick liquid clinging to his fur now as he sits on the ground with some raw fruits and vegetables instead. He doesn’t know that he’ll ever be able to eat it again without being forced to remember nearly drowning in the stuff.
He feels like a baby and he hates it.
He’s soaked himself and his ancestor and food and Warriors still isn’t done tittering about it.
He really hates being a bunny.
The others have nearly stepped on him numerous times, simply because they aren’t used to having to watch underfoot, so every time someone walks over to Wild to get seconds (why did the Champion sit next to him and Sky in the first place?) he has to back-peddle onto his haunches to avoid being crushed under heavy boots and even heavier feet.
Add to that that Wild and Wind both subconsciously reach out to pet his bedraggled fur every few minutes and he’s absolutely fed up with this shit!
At least the Champion was willing to lend him something to dry his fur off with, and even if he hates it, the spare brush Warriors has on hand does a decent job of detangling his fluffy hide. If he melts a little in Twilight’s lap as the rancher goes over him with the brush than no one says anything (although both Sky and Time have infuriating matching smiles on their faces).
But then it’s bedtime and Time is sorting through his things to try and make sure that no one person will have to carry all his stuff, and he’s reminded once again how utterly useless he is in this form. It only makes things worse that he knows that the others will be burdened with his bags, and considering his top speed at the moment can only be held for short sprints, he’s pretty sure the Old Man is going to have someone carry him too.
The very idea makes him puff out his fur in irritation.
At the very least though, he doesn’t have to worry much about how he’s going to handle the cold nights, Sky’s already taken his beloved sailcloth and bundled it into a little nest, and the minute Twilight is done with his fur the Chosen Hero is scooping him up and laying him in it (absently, he wonders if Sky might have a stronger paternal instinct than Time and if his own small form is triggering that). The fabric is warm though, and it’s nice. If Sky curls up around him in the middle of the night though, well, he supposes there’s not really much he can do about that.
Sky does curl around him and he’s trapped.
The Skyloftian may look soft and cuddly, but he’s got an iron grip when he’s asleep, and it’s only by the pure squishability of his current form that he’s able to escape (Sky will be disappointed when he wakes up, he knows, but even so, Legend doesn’t intend on staying a rabbit, not for a whole week, especially when there’s monsters out there.
Perhaps the thought of said monsters should dissuade him, but it doesn’t. He knows now what triggered this change, and he’s determined to hunt it down and trick it into changing him back, he just needs to escape his babysitters for a hot tic in order to do so.
It’s a lucky thing that Four and Warriors are both so drowsy that the feather light step of a rabbit doesn’t catch their attention as the two sit on watch, and Legend’s able to creep over to his bag (positioned with Twilight’s things) and dig through it until he finds what he needs.
You can’t go making deals with the fae unless you have something of value, or those tricksters will rob you blind and steal your first born. Not that Legend ever intends on having kids, but on the off chance that he ever did he’d rather they didn’t have a shitty life because he made an error in dealing with a forest sprite.
Come to think of it, how powerful are the forest people of this time?
Warriors looks seconds away from walking up to Sky’s sleeping form and throwing Legend as far as he can into the distance, and it’s making Four nervous.
Rationally, they know that Warriors wouldn’t consciously do such a thing, but they also know how much Warriors hates rabbits in general, and that the captain’s initial instinct at seeing them is to toss them away from himself as far as possible (never mind how rare a real rabbit is, Warriors’ time is apparently full of them and Warriors hates them). They’ve heard the story, how the captain was made to hunt rabbits down across his world and return them to their homes, the fact that he did so by throwing them is a bit concerning considering the delicate bone structure of the animals, but it’s not Wars’ fault that he doesn’t know that.
All the same, Four would feel a bit more secure if they knew that Wars wouldn’t be doing such a thing. (Rationally, they know he won’t, but rationality is only so much of the equation).
“I’m gonna check on the vet.” They murmur softly to their companion. Somethings not right and they hope it’s just Warriors’ previous retellings of his own rabbit-escapades eating at them and not something else. “Sky’s got a grip like a vice when he sleeps and I don’t want him getting crushed.”
Never mind that being small sucks when it’s this cold out. Four desperately hopes that it won’t rain tonight (although the air tastes right for it).
“Rabbits are tough little things,” The captain chuckles. “I’m sure he’s okay.”
Vio wrenches control from the others, gaze flat as he stares out at Wars. “You do know most rabbits can’t survive being thrown, right? They’re not like cats, if they land wrong their done for.”
The captain pales slightly but doesn’t say anything, and they take that as their cue to stand and make their way over to where Sky and the vet had bedded down for the night. Sure enough, Sky is curled up around the sailcloth nest he made for Legend like a child curled around their favorite stuffed animal (or Red with any of the rest of them), but at the very least it doesn’t look as if Legend would have been smashed, just caged. They wince, the vet doesn’t sleep well on a good night, but waking up to being trapped? That is...not good. There’s a reason they never force him to join everyone else when Red takes over and calls for a cuddle pile; everyone knows that the most Legend will stand is letting Hyrule hold his hand while he sleeps, and even then, the vet will still pull away when he finally does fall asleep.
Sky shifts (he’s a heavy sleeper, but all the same he moves a lot), arms wrapping tighter around the bundle in his arms. Tight enough that the sailcloth gives way. Sky’s face screws up in his sleep, wrapping even tighter around the bundle as if seeking out some form of resistance.
Four panics. Bunnies are delicate creatures and Sky is strong, did he just crush Legend?
Only, looking closer, Vio points out that there isn’t even a hint of pink amidst the fabric, and when Four dares reach out to test the bundle himself, they find that there is nothing within its folds.
“Four?” Warriors’ voice is tinged with concern as Four stand back up from his crouch, brows pinched together as he scans over the camp. “Is something wrong?”
“Legend’s missing.”
The captain’s brows shoot up, but thankfully he doesn’t bother with questioning them, instead hoisting himself to his feet and making his way around the camp, an ever-growing frown marring his features as he looks around. “Did he choose to sleep with Hyrule instead?” It’s a soft murmur, likely only spoken aloud because Wars is too tired to stop it before it reaches his mouth, but Four’s eyes flick over to where the Traveler sleeps regardless.
“I don’t think so.”
“Look,” Warriors groans softly, not loud enough to wake the others, stopping at Twilight’s bedroll and motioning to the bags stacked near the rancher's pillow. “His bag is open.”
“You don’t think he climbed inside of it, do you? We’d never find him!”
The captain gives him a look, blinking once before shaking his head. “No! But he was clearly trying to get at something.” Royal blue eyes turn to stare out at the forest. “What are the chances he went back out there, alone?”
Four hesitates, fingers drumming on his thigh as the colors swarm in his mind. “I don’t know, but I should probably check.”
“We need to watch camp.” The older hero frowns.
“You watch camp, I’ll go out there.”
“You can’t go alone, Four, it’s not safe.” Wars reminds him, concern glinting in his gaze as he turns back to the smithy.
“Fine.” Blue’s the only reason they roll their eyes, they swear. “I’ll take Hyrule. If the vet’s fallen down a hole or something then we can take care of it immediately.”
A smile breaks out across Warriors’ face, even if it is slightly strained. “Funny how that’s even a risk now.”
“Don’t I know it.” Besides, at least Hyrule seems to have a second sense for these sorts of things. Like Sky and Twilight, he has a knack for tracking down the others, especially if he needs to find Time for whatever reason. Four’s seen it themselves, it’s uncanny, but incredibly useful, so they’ve never really questioned it (Vio has, Vio has questioned it enough to give them a head-ache).
It’s the work of a minute to shake the traveler awake, as he’s one of the lightest sleepers of them all, and it takes even less time for them to be off, the simple words “Legend’s gone” being enough to send the traveler springing up and following closely after Four, one hand on his sword as the two of them make their way back into the depths of the forest.
Legend should know better than to try and make a deal with the fae.
Hyrule can recognize the look of a fairy about to claim her prize in an instant, and it appears Legend is about as clueless as a bunny can be about the loophole that he must have left open in whatever twisted deal the two have concocted. Anger burns in his blood as a whisper-hisses through his teeth, a few words all it takes before he’s zipping between the two of them, wings beating furiously as all six of his eyes stare into those of the other with nothing short of pure fury.
“Mine!” He hisses, darting forwards in a fake charge at the other, wings whirring angrily as his eyes stare at them “Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine!” His voice contorts and buzzes, his aura flickering brighter and sharper as he zooms down to hover over Legend’s ears. “MINE.”
“What is your claim?” The other chimes smugly. “What promise or service marks him as yours? Where is the Mark that makes a mortal the charge of a fae, hmm? Show it to me and I will release him to your care.” Glistening teeth glimmer as multiple eyes glisten with malice, jealousy over a potential catch making the fairy’s gaze spark dangerously. “Else ways, leave us be, our deal is near set and you have no business to interrupt it.”
“His true form,” He hisses. “There is my Mark on his hand. The Triangle, my symbol.” He hisses through bared teeth, every eye slitted and glimmering with fury. He can’t lie, not even if he tried, but he’s fae and they’re more skilled than anyone at finding tricks to get around things. The triforce is his symbol, something he’s recognizable by in his world, but it’s not only on his hand, the others bear the same mark and even if it isn’t Fae in origin, it's from the Scared Realm and none can deny that it sets them apart. Anyways, the Fae know mortals by their markings, this should be enough of a claim to make her renounce her dealings with Legend.
No fae dares mess with the Charge of another.
“What is your proof? Can you show me?” She taunts.
“My power isn’t that strong.” He hisses. “You do it and then you’ll see!”
“And give him what he asks without receiving my due? Oh no little Half-Blood.” She glares at him. “Give me Good Reason or leave alone.”
“He is goddess born.” He hisses out finally, grasping at straws. Mother only taught him so much of Fae law, but surely there’s something against touching those blessed by the heavens, right? “Hylia’s child descended. To touch him or any other of Mine is to plead wrath from the Scared Realm.” A sly smile slides over pointed teeth. “Would you wish that on Yours?”
She pales. “Mark your own in all forms, Halfling. This would not happen if you did.” It’s all she cares to say though, zipping away without another word.
“Do I want to know what I just avoided?” Legend’s voice croaks up at him, faint and pitchy all the same as he looks up to the fairy above him.
“I don’t know. But never, and I mean NEVER, make deals with fae again. Not even me! You can’t break promises or be too careful, you never know what they’ll do.” Two of his eyes glance over his shoulder to ensure that the other Fae is gone for good.
“I was trying to be careful.” Legend huffs, his breath sending Hyrule higher over his head for a moment before the fairy regains his balance. “They’re clever little-” He cuts off, violet eyes narrowing and bunny nose shivering as he looks up at Hyrule again. “You’re a fairy.”
His aura dims slightly, wings drooping ever so slightly as he looks down at his mentor. “Yes.”
Legend stares, violet piercing and sharp. Hyrule has never noticed the hint of gold that bands his irises, nor the flecks of blue that glisten under the effects of a fairy’s glow, and it only makes the Veteran’s stare all the more intense.
“Huh.” The bunny huffs softly. “That’s pretty neat, ‘Rulie.” There's no anger, no accusation in his tone, and when Hyrule brings his gaze up to meet that of his mentor again, all he sees is fondness and intrigue. “Is this new? An item? Were you- no,” Legend’s ears prick forwards, his interest obvious as he leans forward. (Hyrule wonders if the vet realizes that he's smelling him.) “You speak like They do. This isn’t new.”
It’s not a question.
“I’m, uh, half fairy.”
Legend nods slowly. “And you didn’t think to tell anyone?” At the dimming of Hyrule’s glow the vet pulls away, eyes flashing with panic for a moment. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing, ‘Rule, just-” He cocks his head long ears flopping to one side sloppily. “It’s not something I’d think you’d want to hide. Seems pretty useful to me.”
And by useful, Hyrule knows Legend means cool.
“I told Four.” He nods to the Hylian standing over them. The smithy’s eyes flicker various colors, his lips pulling aside into a slight smile as he crouches to be closer to their height.
“Now I’m taller than both of you.” Four chuckles softly, crimson tinged gaze sweeping over the two of them.
“Don’t get smart.” Legend huffs. “This is a curse, not my true form, you’d be tiny too if you were cursed into an animal form. Probably smaller than me!”
There’s a knowing look in the smithy’s gaze, but he holds his silence, smile still present as he carefully looks over the both of them. “Well, if neither of you were harmed in that little exchange, we should get back to camp. Wars will be in a huff if we don’t back with you soon.”
Legend huffs his own huff, but doesn’t object, gathering up the glimmering item he had brought as a toll (Hyrule thinks it might be a precious stone of some sort) and slowly hopping after the Smithy as he turns back towards camp.
They’d have made it to camp rather quickly too, if the sky hadn’t chosen that moment to weep out it’s sorrow with the world and the evils within. Great sheets of rain, the likes of which they usually only expect from the Champion’s Hyrule, flood down over them, and Hyrule thanks all things Holy that Legend is there to break his fall as the water soaks his wings and sends him careening towards the earth. Four yelps in surprise, hands fumbling for his hood as he tried to fend off some of the wet (it does little good, they’ll be soaked in seconds in this downpour.
“In here!” Legend squeaks, the rabbit hero already darting into the nearest hollow he can see that isn’t clearly inhabited. It’s a tight squeeze, and Hyrule nearly knocks his head on the bark of the opening, but Legend gets the both of them under, and despite the mushrooms that seem to fill the space with a soft light, it’s a comfortable fit for the two of them. The ground beneath is laid with moss, purposefully it would seem, and Hyrule lets himself side down into it with an appreciative hum.
“What about Four?” He murmurs softly, looking out of the crevice through which they entered. It’s still pouring buckets, and unlike them, the smithy has no dry place to hide (heavens knows the camp will be soaked. He feels terrible for the others).
“What about me?”
Violet and gold turn upwards as twin gasps escape the two. Four, in all of his minish glory, waves back at them from where he’s perched on top of one of the mushrooms. “Minish portal.” He smiles cheerily (but Hyrule can Taste the nervousness rolling off of him).
“Wait, both of you get small?” Legend’s ears stand up straight, brushing the roof of their shelter. “Smaller?” He corrects himself.
Four rolls his eyes. “It was get soaked or get small. I don’t fancy catching a cold, so I chose small.” He wrinkles his nose (it will never stop being cute), hopping down from the mushroom and free falling into the dampened fur of his rabbit-companion. “Now shut up and let me warm up, you’re bigger than I am and since you left me out there to soak I think I can get away with using you to warm up.”
Hyrule’s laughter rings soft and sweet through the hollow, Legend’s vaguely offended expression only adding fuel to the fire as he flits closer. “The vet doesn’t really mind cuddles, do you Ledge? Besides,” He lets his wings fall still, embracing the warmth of Legend’s soft fur as he lands in it lightly. “We just saved his ass.”
Legend turns his head to stare at the two of them, but even in rabbit form his lips twitch with amusement as he shoves him nose into Four’s personal space, making the minish-hero tumble down into the moss with a faint yelp. “You’re soaking.”
The smith grins back, plunging right back into the warm pink fur. “That wasn’t a refusal.”
“One time.” Legend huffs, ears flicking briefly. “One time only, smithy. Enjoy it while you can.”
“Trust me,” Four sighs, plonking down against the vet and leaning into the plush fur around him. “I will.”
It takes mere seconds before Four has drifted off, and Hyrule is reminded that the smith was keeping watch for most of the night before they had gone out looking for Legend. Guilt, sickly-sweet, yet bitter, taints his tongue as Legend stares down at the tiny form curled against him. Hyrule sighs. “I guess he was more tired than I thought.”
Legend only huffs, ears flicking back and nose shivering as he noses the smithy’s sleeping from. Four’s dropped off like a stone, completely dead to the world as Legend curls around him (not dissimilar to how Sky had curled around him earlier that night), easing the gentle shivers of the smith, who noses deeper into Legend’s pelt. Tiny paws coming up to catch hold of pink fur as Four curls up, feather-like tail brushing against the top of his tiny nose, moved only by tiny snores that make Legend’s ears twitch and Hyrule giggle softly.
“The rains still pouring down.” Legend hums, gruff as he can be in his current state, but Hyrule knows it’s all an act. “You might as well get some sleep too, ‘Rulie.”.
And while any other time Hyrule may have argued, Legend lifts his head to offer the space next to Four, and if Legend is offering cuddles, especially with his silky soft fur as a barrier against the cold, Hyrule knows he can’t resist it.
Four’s paw catches hold of him the instant he settles next to the smithy, and before he knows it the two of them are both bundled up in each other while Legend curls himself around them, breath soft and soothing as his heart pit-patters away inside of him.
That’s how they wake the next morning.
Wolfie’s nose shoved against the crack in the bark is what pulls them back from the land of dreams, and the soft snuffling bark followed by Time’s voice is what gets them up on their feet. It’s an awkward thing, emerging into the light again to find five heroes and a wolf staring down at them in a mixture of confusion and concern, but nobody seems to be able to bring themselves to scold when Four sneezes.
“We got caught in the storm.” Legend huffs when he sees the soft expression on Time’s face.
Wolfie huffs, and, much to the surprise of the currently shrunken heroes, they can hear the laugh in it. “Of course you did.”
Hyrule’s mouth drops open, all six eyes bugging out in shock as he turns to Four. The fairy’s whisper is high and shocked, but too sharp a noise for Hylian ears, although Legend, Wolfie and Four can all hear him quite clearly. “Wolfie is Twilight!”
#linked universe#linkeduniverse#fluffics#lu legend#lu twilight#lu hyrule#lu sky#lu four#lu warriors#fairy hyrule#bunny legend#minish four#minish four has friends!#fairies can taste emotions hc#Fairy Hyrule has six eyes#shut up and let me have eldritch hyrule!#wolfie linked universe#wolfie
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"This might be my warmest recipe yet." Azul sighs, setting a meal before you. The aroma of seafood against tamarind as well as leafy vegetables stewing in it.
"Eat up." He says, removing his apron from his waist. "It will take me some time before I can get used to the food from your world." He says ehol washing his hands. "But nevertheless, you should at least enjoy a taste of home while you're here."
"Tell me what I need to improve on later."
Anon ksnjnbjsbgjsg I actually got this ask a long time ago but I typed the first 2k words in the first week I got this and left it alone for who knows how long because my motivation to write plummeted 😭 and it was only recently that I even got the will to write again knsnfknkksngsd
Thank you for making me write 3k+ words on a brainrot fic about sinigang 🤡 sobs so hard This has been in my drafts for more than 6 months, and I feel a little embarrassed about that, but I hope you guys enjoy ahahaha :”)
Feet dragging on the stone path of Main Street, I walked with a groggy pace past the statues of the Great Seven, whose unmoving eyes sent a cold feeling on my back that only judgmental stares could give. My eyelids threatened to lower until my vision turned black, craving for the comfort of thin blankets and a firm mattress.
I yawned. A hand went up to cover my open mouth, lingering until the yawn passed. It dropped to the area of my stomach, where a hollowness ached to be filled. I sighed, inserting another hand into the pockets of my school blazer, and upon feeling the wrinkled texture of old bills, I let myself smile slightly.
Hmm... I’m gonna be passing by Sam’s shop on the way. Maybe I should buy some things on the way. I do need to restock the cupboards. I planned in my head.
I made my way down the staircase and through the path that led to the short tower in front of the Mystery Shop, a bit more energy in my steps from a small goal being set. But upon stopping by the shop itself, my legs felt reluctant with moving towards the door.
Hnngh, I’m too tired, though, to interact with anybody. I thought to myself. Maybe tomorrow. I still have some eggs there. I can make a scrambled egg for dinner. Hopefully, it will be enough to keep me sustained for a few hours.
And with empty hands, I walked away from the shop.
Not much time passed before I arrived at the fork in the road that either led to the Hall of Mirrors or to the Ramshackle dorm. A groan escaped my lips. “Ugh, I’m so tired,” I complained to the air. “I just want to rest already. Why is Ramshackle so far from the school?” Tempting as it is, I didn’t bother to stop and rest, knowing that I can rest for a longer time later. And so, I turned left towards Ramshackle.
Another grumble emanated from my stomach. I must look miserable right now, with my groggy way of walking, heavy eyelids, and hand over an empty stomach. I miss having a car, I thought. Having a driver to bring you home sounds so nice right now.
At the thought of a car, my mind started taking its own walk down a path, except it’s not dragging itself down a dirt road but wandering through a road of movies playing memories. It felt so long ago that I would wear a long skirt that would flutter from my movements as I picked up my things and walked to my car. Afterwards, I would either be brought to my piano lessons or to my home, depending on what day of the week it was. Should I be brought to my lessons, I would be there for an hour before being brought home. The roads would be filled with eager cars driving home, and I myself would lean on the car window, watching a once blue sky shift to oranges and occasional pinks then to dark blues. Sometimes, in these car rides, dinner would occupy my thoughts. On some days, I would think about simply filling up my stomach after a long day. But on other days, I would envision a certain meal, from its familiar bowl on the dinner table down to the aroma it exuded.
Right now, as I headed back to the dorm, my mind’s eye could visualize the dinner table filled. Placemats would be laid in front of each chair, where plates and tableware sit. A bowl of rice would sit on the middle of the table, and beside it would be a larger bowl of a tamarind broth filled with leafy vegetables and cuts of pork. The vision was vivid in my mind, to the point that the fragrance of the broth felt real under my nose.
... Hold on.
I sniffed the air.
There’s no way that I just smelled the exact same dish I was thinking of.
But I sniffed again, and the scent was still there. I frowned in confusion as I looked around for where the smell could possibly come from, and my nose pointed to the Ramshackle dorm that moved closer in my sight.
“Huh?” I uttered out loud. “Who would be cooking sinigang right now?”
I wanted to think the ghosts decided to try their hand at cooking, but I knew they barely knew anything about the culinary world. Heck, they probably might not know of a native dish that may or may not exist in Twisted Wonderland.
Nevertheless, the smell itself rejuvenated me. My pace quickened as I opened the gate and climbed the stone pathway leading to the front door. Turning the knob and pushing the door open, I could smell the familiar sourness of the sinigang, which was now much stronger than it was outside. This time, a subtle flavor accompanied the aroma of the broth, a certain kind of salt that only the ocean could possess. The lights of the corridor, lounge, and kitchen were turned on, bathing the recently painted walls in yellow and white light.
“Oh, you’re home!”
Appearing through the wall, the three Ramshackle ghosts who resided in the dorm along with me approached me. “Oh hi!” I greet, my voice brighter than earlier. Their goofy smiles brought a smile to my own face before I asked: “What’s going on? I smell food here. Are you cooking something?”
“Oh…” A cheeky smile started forming on one of the ghosts’ faces. “About that...”
“Hihihi~” the second snickered as a wider grin makes its way onto his face. “You should see for yourself!”
“Go to the kitchen and find out!” The third ghost pointed to the direction of the kitchen.
I look at their expressions with growing suspicion. “Erm… okay…?”
I hesitantly made my way to the kitchen. It doesn’t sound bad exactly, but what if I’m being lured to something, my mind said. A horrible thought to have entered my mind.
What if it’s a killer waiting for me? Wait, but this place is protected from intruders. Oh no, what if Trein paid me a visit because I missed something that I didn’t know I missed? Or even Crewel? Or what if it’s something else–
As I approached the open threshold of the kitchen, I kept my body by the wall, taking a peek from my hiding spot to see who was there.
A sharp inhale went through my nose.
Hold the fuck up—!
I immediately retreated and leaned on the wall, my earlier exhaustion gone entirely, replaced by the fast beating of my heart and the butterflies flying about in my stomach. There is no way in the world that he would be there in my messy kitchen, cooking a meal that I hadn’t eaten since arriving in Twisted Wonderland.
But I recognized the silver hair and the undercut below it. That hair is undoubtedly Azul’s.
“I know you’re there,” his voice echoes from the kitchen. My heart seemed to jump from its place at the same time my breath hitched.
Slowly, I approached the kitchen. Part of me wondered if I was dreaming and if I was going to wake up soon. Standing by the stove, Azul seemed to be stirring the pot of sinigang, with his back faced towards me. He seemed to be in his dorm uniform, judging by the black straps of the suspenders he wears. The familiar coat was absent, however, and so was his black blazer, leaving him in a long-sleeved white polo. From the purple ribbons coming from the front that were tied together, he appeared to be wearing an apron.
Azul always looked like someone of high authority, whose confidence and smugness left me gazing at him with mad love. But here he was, with an unusual domestic-looking appearance, and I felt my already exhausted knees nearly buckling from the shock.
He turned to look at me. The sight of his beautiful face, paired with the apron over a white polo, made me inhale sharply through the nose. “Is there something on me? Why are you simply standing in place?”
His voice shook me from my stupor. “Wait, why are you here,” I finally asked. “I thought you had the Mostro Lounge to take care of.”
“Jade and Floyd are taking care of the lounge in my stead for today,” Azul replied as he picked up a large bowl. “I apologize for intruding into your home and using your kitchen without your knowledge. I simply wanted to try out a new recipe for the Mostro Lounge.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. “Huh? Why here, though? Aren’t the stoves in the lounge better?”
There was a pause in his movements before he scooped up a ladle of the soup dish into the bowl. “Well... I wanted to let you taste test it since you are familiar with the dish, yes? I would have called you over to the Mostro Lounge instead, but it seemed like you were busy, so I decided to cook here instead.”
His words made my heart race. He’s trusting me with something so important, and it drove my mind crazy knowing that he’s asking me for something. Yet skepticism weighed in my head. Something about the reasons seemed a bit odd. His voice, usually so suave and stable with a touch of sass, seemed slightly shakier, though it’s so subtle that I found myself wondering if I must be imagining it.
The sound of a switch suddenly resounded across the kitchen, causing Azul to move his head to a white rice cooker whose switch is set to warm. “Ah, perfect timing,” he exclaims. His voice regained its usual elegance. “Have a seat while I prepare the food. You must be tired from walking all the way here.”
Again, the butterflies fluttered in my stomach, but this time, an overwhelming feeling of warmth grew in my chest. It was a ball of light that seemed to glow so ardently that I felt my knees might weaken to the point I fall on the spot. Unable to handle it without possibly making a mess of myself, I pulled out a chair with a plate and tableware set in front of it. My gaze immediately landed on Azul, and I watched as he scooped up the white rice into another bowl. The warmth in my chest seemed to grow while gazing at each movement.
“This might be my warmest recipe yet,” Azul spoke up, setting down the bowl of rice on the table before the larger bowl of sinigang with a sigh. Upon closer inspection, a whitish meat floated on the broth with a distinct black skin in the middle of it.
Bangus, I noted with surprise. There is bangus around here?!
He walked to the counter to grab the bowl of rice and arrived back to the table to set it down. Wisps of smoke visibly flew into the air from its soft whiteness, a sight I thought I’d never see again.
I knew my tummy was aching for food a while ago. I knew that. Yet I couldn’t pick up my tableware, and instead, I could only stare at the food with an agape mouth. The feelings within my chest continued to grow, soon spreading to my gut and throat like a fire set ablaze. They threatened to spill out of me into a bunch of ‘I love you’ and ‘why do you always find a way to make my heart beat fast’, but my lips suppressed any form of sound that would let it all leak out. I couldn’t let Azul know how I truly felt for him, not yet.
“Eat up,” he said as his hands traveled to the ribbon on his back. With an elegant grace, he unraveled the ribbon and lifted the apron from his body, folding the clothing in half in the air before setting it down on a chair with another set up plate in front of it. He then walked to the sink, turning on the faucet with slight difficulty and placing his hands under the running water.
Despite the shock of seeing Azul in my dorm that still left me stunned, his words moved me to grab a few spoonfuls of rice, my mind mentally calculating how much rice I need to fill myself up before stopping. I got the spoon for the sinigang, scooping myself some kangkong — there’s kangkong around these parts!? — and bangus before scooping the broth and pouring it over my rice. Each grain soaked up the soup, almost reaching the point that it would spill over to the plate.
“I hope that this is to your liking,” Azul spoke up. He approached the table and pulled out his own chair before taking a seat. “This is my first time making this, after all.”
“It…” I paused for a moment, trying to gain enough composure to speak properly. “It’s already smelling the way it’s supposed to! And you even have the kangkong and the bangus, and that’s pretty accurate, and I- I didn’t know you had these things here in Sage Island!” I stopped myself before I could say anymore compliments. Slight embarrassment joined the butterflies in my stomach from letting my excitement leak out.
He softly chuckled in reply. “We don’t, but I have a few connections that enabled me to buy the best quality ingredients.” He smiles, but there’s a mischievous charm to it. All the same, his voice and his face left me breathless and my chest tight from the intense feelings I felt towards him.
“I see,” I said with a nod. Immediately after, a quiet grumble emitted from my stomach, reminding me once more of my famished state. Wordlessly, I quickly turned my attention back to my plate, relieved for a distraction from Azul. Using my spoon and fork, I cut the bangus into small pieces, a task not difficult thanks to the softness of the fish. Once I was satisfied with the pieces I cut, I moved on to cutting the kangkong leaves and stems to smaller pieces as well, occasionally having to apply a bit more force to cut the fibers completely.
“Do you always take your time in preparing your meal,” Azul asked as I nearly finish cutting the kangkong.
I turned my head up back to him, perhaps a little too excitedly. “Oh well, yeah,” I answered. “I don’t usually do this with every meal, but when it’s sinigang, I like cutting the bangus and kangkong and mixing them together with the rice.”
He nodded with a hum. “I see.”
From the corner of my eyes, I noticed the still empty plate in front of him. “Aren’t you going to eat, Azul?”
“I will,” he answered. “I simply wish to know your thoughts first before trying it. Tell me what I should improve on later.”
My thoughts matter to him? The mere thought caused that ball of warmth and light in my chest to grow more. If I had been paying attention, I would have noticed the subtle tautness of his voice that was there earlier, but I was too caught up in that thought that in some way, he was being considerate of what I thought.
Okay, calm down, he’s probably just sweet talking you, I told myself. Plus, you still have to eat.
I returned to my food, and I started mixing the food with my rice, taking care that everything is uniformly mixed. And once that was done, it was finally time to satisfy my stomach.
I’m about to be trying Azul’s cooking for the first time, was the thought weighing in my mind as I scooped a decent amount of rice and viand into my spoon. As I lifted the spoon to my lips, a part of me wondered if I will be let down. Even if it smelled the way it did, even if the ingredients are accurate, will it be delicious? Will I actually be able to genuinely compliment it? And will I end up with an okay stomach or will I end up having to take stomach medicines? There was a time that I had sinigang that caused my stomach to hurt badly, and I didn’t wish for a repeat of that time. I didn’t want to make Azul feel bad by saying that it’s not good.
But more than that, I was more occupied by the thought that Azul actually cooked this for me, even if it’s for simple taste testing for an upcoming menu item for the Mostro Lounge. What being up in the heavens decided that I was worthy of this? That I, an ordinary human in this world of magic, would let me be blessed with not only the unexpected presence of the most beautiful boy I’ve ever met but also be graced with his cooking just because he wanted to run it by me?
And that’s why, I quickly told myself, I need to taste this before he gets suspicious about why I’m hesitating!
I put the spoonful of food in my mouth. The spoon barely left my mouth when a my eyes bulged slightly from the undeniably familiar sourness of the broth that coated each grain of rice and each piece of fish. The bangus was soft, and much to my relief, it contained its distinct flavor that I never knew I missed until now. A soft crunching sound reached my ears as I bit into a piece of kangkong stem, adding a texture to the softness of the mixture of rice and the fish.
A hum of delight left my throat, and a smile formed on my face as I felt my shoulders slackened from the taste of the sinigang. It’s not just good. It tasted like home.
I scooped myself another spoonful of my meal as I chewed, ready for me to eat once I swallow the food in my mouth. But once I swallowed, I looked at Azul, whose eyes were looking at me expectantly. “It’s so good,” I exclaimed to him.
His face seemed to relax at my words, a relieved smile forming on his face. “I’m glad to hear that,” he spoke. For what felt like the nth time that evening, my breath nearly hitched from his smile and voice. The genuine relief that he displayed was exquisite.
As I took my second spoonful of the food, he moved to get his own rice and sinigang. His eyes scrutinized the rice on his plate, getting what seemed to be a cup exactly before getting his own fish and veggies. He got his own spoonful of rice and fish, with a bit of leaf atop of it, and put it in his mouth. His eyes lit up with what seemed like pleasant surprise, a look that made my heart jump in place, and soon, he swallowed, a smile forming on his face as he said, “It does taste good.”
“Yeah,” I exclaimed, “because–” it was you who made it, Azul, I almost said but stopped myself in time, “– the ingredients are correct and everything. It was easy to tell from the smell that this was going to be good! And this is your first try too!”
His smile grew. “That’s good to hear.”
We continued to eat our meals, but as I ate, I couldn’t help myself and occasionally glanced at him. There was a refinement to the way Azul enjoyed his meal, and my eyes could not leave him or any of the small movements that he made. I knew this feeling: that when you’re in love, every single mundane action that the one you love does brings all the brightest colors in the world in your vision. In that moment, the kitchen lost its drab dreary look, and all I could see was a homey place. The flickering light above gave a nostalgic charm, one that I never noticed. The walls and cupboards seemed brighter, no longer grey or light brown in my vision. The smell of the broth filled my nose, and the taste of the food in my mouth made me melt further in my seat. And in the middle of it all was Azul, the reason why everything was so bright around me, the reason why my heart continued racing even as I ate, the reason why I could be happy no matter how tiring the day may be.
I felt no arms wrapping around my body, but it felt like I was receiving the warmest hug I ever had. One that brought even a tear to my eye, a tiny bead of water that contained all the emotions that warmed me from within.
Before I realized it, I was already inserting my last spoonful of rice into my mouth, chewing slowly to savor the flavors before swallowing. A contented sigh left my lips as I propped an elbow on the table and rested my head on my hand, a lazy smile forming on my face. “That was so good. I haven’t had sinigang in so long.”
“I’m very pleased to hear that you enjoyed,” Azul replied, having finished his meal as well. “Is there anything that I could have improved?”
“Mmm, not that I can think of,” I said in reply. “It was really good.”
He nodded. “I see.” He then stood from his seat, picking up his plate while doing so. He reached a hand out to me, and I sat up straight and alert. Is he reaching for my hand, I thought excitedly, but that thought quickly died when he spoke: “Give me your plate.”
“E-eh?” I stood up from my own seat. “No, I can wash the dishes, it’s ok! You already did the cooking.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I want you to relax for today, so let me do this for you.”
What?
No reply left my lips. I froze in place. unable to stop him as he approached my side of the table and took my empty plate. His blue eyes seemed to twinkle in amusement at my sudden silence, and his lips quirked up in a smile before taking his leave towards the sink.
“W... why,” I finally asked as the sound of rushing water from the sink filled the kitchen. “Why are you doing this much for me all of a sudden?”
He didn’t respond at first. Instead, I received the squeaky noise of a sponge rubbing a plate first, and that, alongside the running water, was the only sound in the room for a few seconds. I couldn’t see his expression from my spot, only the back of his head and his hands washing the dishes.
“Well,” Azul finally spoke. For once, he didn’t sound like he’d start talking in palavers and haughty tones, but rather, there was something honest in his voice. “Truth be told, I wanted to do this as a form of payment for everything you’ve done for me.”
I frowned in confusion. “Eh? What for?”
There was a pause for a moment. “... Remember back when I took your dorm as the collateral for freeing the students from the Mostro Lounge,” he asked, though it seemed like a rhetorical question. Nevertheless, I replied with a hum of approval.
“I fully expected you to hate me or insult me after everything that happened,” Azul spoke. My eyebrows raised in surprise at his response, but I remained quiet. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you did. After all, anyone who signed my deals come out of it calling me names. Not that it bothers me, since I benefit from our deals more than they do.” A certain smugness accompanied his latter words.
“But you... you called me a hard worker.” The faucet was turned off, and Azul placed a plate on the rack for wet dishes but made no move to continue washing. “I’ve been meaning to find a proper way of paying you back, and after learning a little bit more about you, I thought that this was the best way to do it. You should at least enjoy a taste of home while you're here.”
No words left my lips. There was no sound in the room except for the beat of my heart thrumming in my ears. My own voice was gripped by the shock that I feel, yet there is a whole speech forming in my head that wanted to make itself known. You shouldn’t be paying me back, Azul. You’re the one who’s done so much more for me. You made my school year so much more beautiful and gave me a reason to keep on going despite me being far away from home. I should be the one doing something for you.
A hand landed on my shoulder. Jolting slightly from surprise, I looked up to see Azul right beside me. At the close proximity, the butterflies in my stomach fluttered even more wildly. “There’s no need to pay me back,” he spoke with a reassuring smile. “For once, I'm letting you take my services for free.”
“H... huh?!” I exclaimed.
“Of course, I wouldn’t complain if you do decide to repay me,” he adds with a mischievous smirk, a kind of smirk that I want to punch for how much it makes my brain short-circuit from how much it affects me.
“W-well...” I don’t mind paying you back. I wanted to say, but I felt like saying that would be walking onto a landmine. “Tha... thank you, Azul.”
For a short moment, he appeared stunned by my gratitude, before his face melted into a smile that nearly made me crumble to my knees. “You’re welcome.”
The students of Octavinelle dorm felt something different when they watched their dorm leader enter. Usually, they’d feel a slight sense of fear from the sharp tap of his shoes and serious face, but at this moment, his feet had a lightness to it, and his eyes looked softer as a smile accompanied them.
Azul no longer looked like a dorm leader or a businessman who snagged a win in that moment but a boy who seemed genuinely happy for once.
He made his way to Mostro Lounge, the happy aura he radiated never fading. As he entered the VIP Room, he encountered Jade, who smiled in amusement while he watched Azul sit on the leather couch.
“So how was your time in Ramshackle, Azul,” he asked.
The smile on his face widened, and his sky blue eyes gleamed with pure glee. “It went well,” he said with an even voice.
Jade chuckled. “It seems like it went more than well, Azul.”
Azul didn’t argue back. Because Jade’s right. It went more than well if it means he got to see that beautiful smile on his beloved’s face.
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Take Care of You
Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: After a hunt gone wrong, Dean is always there.
Requested by Anonymous: ““Here. You look hungry.” because I feel like this is Dean's love language”
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: bit of angst, self doubt, mentions of injury, food, fluff
A huff fell past your lips for what had to be the millionth time within the last hour and a half, the motel door closing roughly behind you from the force you pushed it shut with. You were tired, you were frustrated, you were miserable. The hunt couldn’t have gone any worse in your eyes, it was one thing after another with seemingly no end in sight at the time. You were sure you’d never been off your game quite like that in all the hunts you’d done.
You felt like you failed.
It wasn’t until the sound of that familiar engine sounded and grew distant, signaling they’d left, that it felt like the tension in your chest was starting to break loose. You were sulking the entire way back to the motel, tucked away in the back seat with tears fighting desperately to spill down your cheeks. It was a battle you gave up trying to stifle eventually, those very tears rolling down heated skin before collecting on your shirt.
You were quiet the entire drive save for the occasional sniffle you muffled with your sleeve, having gone unnoticed, at least you thought you did. Because you were so wrapped up in picking apart how you did that night, about everything that had gone wrong rather than the things that went right, that you missed the way Dean glanced in the rear view on more than one occasion. You hadn’t seen the clench of his jaw and the tightening of his grip on the wheel at the mere sight of your obvious anguish over it.
He knew there was nothing he could say to make it better in that moment and that was something he hated amongst other things.
You had passed up dinner when he’d asked, as kind as ever despite your shortness with him, simply asking him to drop you off at the motel so he could grab a bite to eat with Sam. Teary eyes and a frown wasn’t something you wanted them to see, nor did you want to dampen their mood that surely was already soured at that point.
So he did just that, dropped you off in front of the room the three of you had reserved for the past two nights. Even though you could hold your own, he still waited for you to go inside before he left.
You turned on the faucet at the sink in the small bathroom, cupping your hands under the tap before bending down and splashing the cold water over your face. It was an icy jolt, one that soothed the heat in your cheeks and the clutter of thoughts in your mind. You repeated the action at least three more times before swiping the hand towel from its hook, patting your face and hands dry. It grounded you a bit more than you were just moments before, and you switched the light off and tossed the towel on the counter before making your way back to the bed you shared with Dean.
It was unmade from where the two of you had left it when you woke up that morning, two duffel bags sitting on the carpeted floor unzipped and rifled through from your change of clothes. The mattress bounced when you took a seat on it, boots kicked off and jacket folded over top of your back before you leaned back against the headboard. It was among the nicer motels you’d stayed in as of late, certainly better than the disco themed room you resided in on a hunt in Las Vegas just weeks before, and definitely better than the room with no heat the time before that.
You swiped the remote off the nightstand seated between the two beds, switching the tv on to whatever reality show you could find first. It wasn’t until then that you realized just how much your feet ached, just how sore your back had been. It didn’t help that you’d been thrown against the wall by a rogue spirit—not the first time nor the second time.
It left you feeling like the human equivalent of a punching bag and the tub back at the bunker never felt more enticing than now. The tub that sat miles away just waiting for you to come back home.
There have been worse hunts you’ve been on, ones that you’ve come out of in a lot worse shape than this. Ones that left your cheeks burning with embarrassment over a clumsier mistake than the ones you made a mere hour before. Ones that ended in arguments with Dean, most of which you hadn’t recalled what they were about but a few that you do.
There were worse hunts, but the events that unraveled that day were ones that you couldn’t shake. The built up tension and frustration before that point having been too heavy for you to let it go. You know sitting and stewing on it will do nothing but sour your mood even further, will make it all the more difficult for you to go back out on another hunt with a positive outlook. But you were too tired to do much else other than that very thing.
You weren’t sure how long it’d been that you’d been in your own company, using the time to do nothing but think about the day you wanted so desperately to come to a close. It was a nightmare, one that left you feeling tired and embarrassed.
But what you did know was the sound of two thuds, shortly paired with the jiggle of the doorknob and the whistle of the older Winchester as he stepped into the room. You heard Sam mention something about showering before he disappeared into the bathroom with a change of clothes, promptly closing the door behind him.
“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted, upbeat despite your mood displaying the opposite.
You nod, waving in his general direction as you flip through the channels in search of something else to watch even though you hadn’t really been paying much attention to the tv. You’d been watching the same show for the last who knows how long and you couldn’t even begin to grasp what it was about. It wasn’t long before the light of the lamp had dimmed, Dean standing in front of it as he nudged you lightly.
When you turned your head to look up at him, you spotted a brown paper bag in his hand with a grease stain or two on it. “Here. You look hungry.”
You purse your lips as your gaze went back to him. “Am not.”
“Are too. Your stomach was rumbling louder than my car the whole trip back, sweetheart.”
After a moment of squinted eyes and raised brows in a defeated attempt to prove your point you sighed, taking the bag from him with a small but appreciative smile as he pressed a kiss to your forehead before rounding the bed to sit with you. It was the littlest of things that made moments like this all the more better, softening the blow you felt you’d taken after the day you had. It was the little things Dean did that showed you just how much he cared. He wasn’t one to express his emotions through words as much as he did through actions.
He took his rightful spot next to you, the bed jostling around a bit before stilling once he had gotten comfortable by your side. He snagged the remote from you with a smile, one that grew fonder as he watched you enjoy your food no matter how much you tried to say you didn’t want it. By the very smile on your face, even if it’s small, he knows he’d made you feel better. He’d much rather see a hint of a smile than the frown you were sporting the majority of the day whether you had realized it or not.
The tv was changed to a movie, the title slipping your mind but seemingly it’d been one that wasn’t too bad judging by the way Dean had laughed, tossing the remote down in favor of tugging you closer with an arm around your shoulders and a kiss to your temple.
“You did good out there, you know,” he murmurs, pulling a scoff from you.
“Did not,” you say, stuffing another fry in your mouth.
“I’m serious, you did good today, Y/n.”
“Dean, I nearly face planted at Casper the friendly ghost’s feet today, not to mention that spirit tossed me around like a chew toy. I wouldn’t call that a win,” you grumble, feeling his eyes on you.
It was confirmed when you turned your head to look at him, his gaze on you as his lips pursed in disapproval. That and it was topped off with the raise of his brow, a huff puffing out from his nose. You knew he wouldn’t agree with you, not in a million years, and you didn’t see how he couldn’t. You made a fool of yourself today and if no one knew any better, they would have thought it’d been your first ever hunt of your life.
“Stop that,” he says with furrowed brows.
“Stop what?”
“That thing you always do where you get all wrapped up in that pretty head of yours. Stop that.”
“You mean the thing you always do?”
The crease between his brows deepens and the dimples sitting at the corners of his mouth do the same, his boot nudging your foot. You raise your eyebrow and smile softly, turning away as you finish up your food. You may have won that argument, if you’d even call it that, but he knew he was right. You knew he was right.
He chose to say nothing more on the subject, knowing full well you’d have a counter readily on the tip of your tongue to just about anything he could say about it. Instead, he settled for pulling you closer after you put the wrappers in the bag, putting it on the nightstand. You tucked into his side, the place you wanted to be most after the day you’d had. He was warm and solid and there, he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Dean Winchester might not have been a man known to show big acts of affection with frequent I love you’s and grand dinners to fancy restaurants, he might not buy you expensive gifts or pretty flowers to show you his love for you. But he didn’t really need to, he never needed to do that. He was your rock, the one you could rely on in anything that bothered you. He was safe.
You weren’t quite sure how much time had passed and you still hadn’t known what exactly was going on in the movie that Dean had put on to watch. You were far too caught up and distracted with the beat of his heart as you lay your head over it, or the way he’d been absentmindedly dragging the tips of his fingers along your shoulder as he watched the tv. At the occasional chuckle rumbling in his chest and jostling you around a bit but you didn’t mind. You were finally comfortable, finally able to relax after tracking down the same spirit for the past two days.
Now it was over and done with, and now you could put it behind you.
“Thanks for thinking of me, De,” you murmur, gesturing to the now empty paper bag.
He laughs softly, lips pressed to your forehead. “I’m always thinkin’ about you.”
You smile then, looking up at him with a certain fondness that never fails to make his heart flip in his chest now matter how much he tells Sam that it doesn’t. It always does when you look at him like that. But for the first time that day you felt better, felt at ease that maybe everything hadn’t gone quite as badly as you’d envisioned it had.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmurs, forehead resting against yours.
You bumped his freckled nose with yours, a soft sigh falling past your lips and fanning over his own. But the exasperation you felt had quickly melted into an even softer smile, one he couldn’t see but he knew was there when it pressed into his lips. “I know you do, De.”
He kissed you again, and again, the smile on his lips brushing over yours just like you had done.
“You taste like a burger, sweetheart,” he chuckled, even more so when you swat at his chest.
“Yeah, and you taste like pie,” you counter, shaking your head.
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” he adds, sweet enough to smooth it over with you. He tugged you in again, his lips meeting yours in a kiss even sweeter than the last, his breath warm against your lips as his kiss lingered more than a few moments before he went in for another. “Yeah, totally not a bad thing.”
You laugh softly at his hum, any remaining upset that you felt simmering in you now dissolving at that point and replacing it with something happier.
—
Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes
#dean winchester#dean winchester oneshot#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fic
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Here is a request for slashers if they're open. My brain does a thing where I am affectionate w a person but if I get nudged away (even if it's just to readjust the position), it goes "oh no. They don't want u to touch them. Do not touch ever again or they will get mad at u. U disgust them." Even tho touch is my love language & it hurts, I just won't touch. If confronted, I will get confused & panicky cuz "u didn't want me to touch? Im respecting ur wishes? Did I miss something?" Its a mess.
Requests are indeed open, I’m sorry I take foreverrr to do these but i hope u enjoy! I don’t know what to call this tho. For simplicity’s sake I’m calling this nervous reader lmao, idk what else to call these.
Slashers x gn nervous Reader
Jason Voorhees:
Jason can very much relate to the feeling. When he first meets you, he’s sure that you’re frightened. He restrains from being too close to avoid coming off as overbearing, doesn't want to touch you because if you flinch he’ll be so hurt. He just assumes he disgusts you. Based on the reaction all of his other victims have when they see him, he’s sure you’ll probably be the same.
Once Jason is sure that you don't feel that way, he’s a cuddle monster. He wants to be close all of the time, holding hands, letting you sit in his lap, you name it. He’s so starved and quickly decides that touch is his love language too. He’s not even sure how he’s lived this long without it.
The only time I can see Jason maybe gently sort of setting you down elsewhere and walking off is when he senses strangers on the property of what once was Crystal Lake. He’s out the door before he can even see your hurt expression, Which is worse because this might lead you to jump to conclusions.
If you distance yourself from Jason, he immediately is thrown off. He can’t directly ask you if he’s done something wrong and when he tries to initiate affection with you and you don’t reciprocate whole heartedly, he’s at a loss.
He’ll get on one knee while you sulk on the couch and give you a silent plea to tell him what's wrong. You can panic and try and avoid it but he is certain there's something going on and he wants so badly to know what he’s done to put you off. You tell him and he immediately is shaking his head no, he could never be mad at you, never be disgusted with you. You’re the most breathtaking person he’s ever had the pleasure of holding, the first, most likely.
Jason nods because he understands how you feel. In the future, he’s persistent about how you feel when he untangles himself from you, making sure you’re ok.
Michael Myers:
In the later stages of your relationship, Michael is insatiable when it comes to being in contact with you. For a long time, towards the start of your relationship, he didn’t like it. It felt weird. All of the touch he's experienced prior was so clinical and sterile that he doesn’t quite know how good touch is supposed to feel. He’s so touch starved that he’s almost positive he doesn't even need it.
Slowly, he builds a tolerance for it, much like one does with alcohol, constantly checking his boundaries and letting him control the situation and he’s all for movie night, huddled up on the couch, or waking up with his head on your chest. His own personal pillow.
There are, however, moments when his need to make someone tremble with fear and then blodgeon them to death with a can opener from their own kitchen becomes too strong, so he tries to keep away from you. In the past, he might have used you to satisfy similar desires of a sexual nature and may have really hurt you but he knows that it’s not always enjoyable to you.
Then, you stop touching him. Much like Jason, he starts to think you’ve become sick of him. Sick of his coldness, his muteness, his withdrawn demeanor. Maybe you’ve moved on and he tries to tell himself he doesn’t care but he doesn't think he can see himself touching anyone but you now.
It gets to the point where he comes home one day and you look heavily troubled, expressions he’s seen on your face before, only in the event that something terrible has happened. You ask to speak to him and he obliges.
You explain that you don’t think this relationship is working, that you’re pretty sure he’s disgusted with you and how difficult this event is because you didn't even want to talk about it but it's been hurting you for too long.
His response is to stand up very slowly, pick you up and lay down with you over him, simply laying there. Hopefully, knowing you’re the one person he would ever allow to participate in this intimacy is enough to show you that you mean more than you think you do to him.
RZ Michael Myers:
This Michael is more perceptive to your touch than his counterpart, your touch sends little shivers down his spine and as soon as he gets pretty used to it, he’s eager for more. This also takes some time but significantly less. He’s enamored with the idea of returning to a somewhat normal life. Your affection grounds him in that fantasy as much as being a murderer might take him out of it.
As he establishes a relationship with you, he may even be the one to start touching you instead of the other way around. He’s read books and always wondered what it might feel like to have someone genuinely touch him without fear in their eyes. Without malice.
An unsuccessful ‘day at work’ might have Michael feeling a little het up though. He can be moody and more rageful. Neither you nor his hobbies can calm him. He seems colder than usual in these states and can come off as very standoffish.
So when you try and touch him and he shrugs your hand off his shoulder, he can’t or isn't in the state of mind to address your frown and worried look. Michael, instead stomps off somewhere to be alone for a while; maybe take his anger out on something else. Some unsuspecting soul or maybe even a poor animal in the wrong place at the wrong time.
After he’s calmed down some, he returns and almost forgot about that sad little gleam in your eye before he left. Michael remembers when he sees you blankly staring at the TV, pointedly avoiding his gaze even as you utter a weak welcome home. It’s not very welcoming. He sits stiffly beside you, watching you from the corner of his eye. You’re closed off from him and he doesn't like it at all.
Migrating towards you slowly, he eases you into a familiar hug, his big bear hugs that are a little tight but inviting all the same. His huge torso and long arms seem to swallow you in his warmth. You hardly reciprocate. You look a little surprised. Though he never addresses it verbally, (which is probably better for you) Michael offers a single glance that communicates everything he needs to say. Don't ever think that again.
Thomas B. Hewitt:
Thomas’ self esteem issues and self image are not good. He honestly doesn’t like to imagine what he looks like to other people unless it can be as a threatening man you don’t fuck with. Meeting you, he realizes that it’s good to protect his family but he’d rather you not see him as someone only capable of harm. Tries his best to get the point across that while Hoyt may be adamant that horrible things happen to you, he’s not going to let them.
Thomas has received affection but always a familial affection. A pat on the back from Monty, proud claps to his shoulders from uncle Charlie, and hugs and kisses from his dear Mother. Nothing so foreign as a strangers touch over his arm or a soft embrace.
Unfortunately, Thomas can get reactive when you attempt to touch him without his mask on. He’s absolutely settled on the false reality that you’ll see his face and immediately decide that you never want to touch him again. Interacting with you with his bare face? That's a no for Thomas.
He puts on his mask that covers the scarred skin over his face and you look dejected. He was preparing for you to pressure him but instead finds himself trying to find out why you won’t touch him now. It’s not his face, is it? You respond with your reasoning. Thomas is so confused. How could you think that you disgust him? That he doesn’t want you to touch him?
He’s quicker than the others and immediately sweeps you up into his arms and holds you as close as humanly possible. Feeling disgusting and like some sort of burden is a feeling he’s so familiar with and if he can take it away from you, he will.
Will aggressively initiate touch with you for the next week or so just to solidify the fact that he cares about you and won't reject you just as you didn’t reject him.
Bubba Sawyer:
Bubba is a great cuddle buddy and partner. Hugs are his favorite and he hugs his brother all the time, lifting both Nubbins and Chop Top into the air for some brotherly love. If you’re smaller than them he’s all about picking you up and perhaps a little rough housing with you. He’s careful though or at least there are attempts made to be careful
Bubba, though he could easily spend the whole day doing nothing and everything with you, has work. Chores, butchering. Cooking, and tending livestock. Plenty to do at the sawyer house and he does most of it. Suffice to say there are times when you want to lather attention all over him yet he has to go back to work.
So caught up in work that he doesn't get what's going on til way later, when you’ve had time to stew in your emotions, firmly telling yourself that Bubba is annoyed by you probably. He’s baffled and confused at your silence, your crossed arms. The little furrow in your brow. He can already tell there’s something upsetting you.
Honestly, Bubba is so affectionate I can’t see him being the kind of person even capable of alluding to the fact he might be disgusted by you. How, if all he wants to do is love you? You may bring it up as a joke that you thought he didn’t like you and he almost seems offended. Not like you?
Bubba can squash any feelings you may have about that and then some. He will not let you drown in insecurities, not on his watch. This man will do everything in his power to make you feel beautiful because you really are.
I’m sorry these are super long but thanks for requesting!
#slasher x reader#michael myers#michael myers x reader#halloween#rz halloween movie#rz michael myers#rz michael myers x reader#jason voorhees#jason voorhees x reader#friday the 13th#thomas brown hewitt x reader#thomas brown hewitt#thomas hewitt#bubba sawyer x reader#bubba sawyer#leatherface x reader#texas chainsaw massacre#slashers
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if you’re still accepting requests for your event hb,,,childe + groceries hehe ily jade congrats on your milestone you deserve the world 💓
send me a genshin character + a noun and i'll write a little blurb! [200 follower special <3]
ever since ajax was sent on fatui missions far away from home, basic human needs had practically been thrown out the window.
he was a warrior, an adventurer at heart. there was never an opportunity to settle down and relax. he was always on the move, cooking meals with whatever he could salvage from the wilderness. he wasn’t picky.
ajax was rarely stationed at one spot for too long, but liyue was an exception. the hunt for the gnosis had taken far longer than the tsaritsa had predicted, and soon enough, spending his nights in his office at the bank was not doing anything for his physical or mental wellbeing.
liyue was known for its delicious traditional dishes, and ajax found himself acclimating to their tastes easily every time he chose to ate out- which was all the time, now that he wasn’t always on the move. it was convenient, and he didn’t have the time these days to buy ingredients and make a meal in his busy schedule.
it was only when he finally used some expenses to actually get a room at a nearby inn that he began to miss snezhnayan dishes. in particular, his mom’s cooking.
ajax would admit to this in a letter home. it was a rare moment of vulnerability that he didn’t prefer to show to his family, but after a particularly long day on the clock, he had felt especially homesick.
he could only shiver with slight fear from the reply of the one person that could easily take him down with just a stare.
i did not spend all these years birthing and raising my own flesh and blood for him to be so careless and irresponsible. the letter read.
you know how to cook, ajax. do not think i forgot all those nights you sat to watch mama cook. now get to the store and make the snezhnayan stew even i would be proud of. i love you.
-mama
and so, with a burst of confidence and vigor, ajax sucked a deep breath through his nose before braving the morning ingredient stalls of liyue harbor.
while ajax wasn’t one to shy away from his position in the fatui, he admittedly felt out of place amongst the crowd of older men and women picking out food for dinner that night. his bright auburn hair and monochrome colored clothes made him stick out like a sore thumb, and while he typically loved the attention, this attire was unsuitable for mundanity.
still, his mom’s words echoed loudly in his head. he would make a stew that she would be proud of, no doubt about it.
and so, with confident gait, he made his way to the first vegetable stall, seeking out calla lilies and mint. thankfully, the man didn’t make hassle and sold it to him for a fair price, kindly bagging it up for ajax.
the seafood stall didn’t go as easily. the octopus and fish looked of high quality, no doubt. but, even ajax could tell these prices were marked up abysmally. usually, he wouldn’t fight over it much- he had the means to pay it, after all. but, his mom’s words rang through his mind again. she would never agree to pay for prices like this back home.
side-eyeing the couple behind the stand, ajax squinted his eyes. “i don’t think these prices are fair.”
ajax would get the seafood at a reasonable price after a few minutes of accusation eased into bargaining. mama taught him well, after all. but... the couple probably wouldn’t be happy to see him again in the future.
with bags of seafood and vegetables in tow, ajax was satisfied with his grocery shopping for the week, at the very least. now, all that was left was to remember his mom’s all-famous recipe off the top of his head.
#mal * ੈ♡‧₊#mal.... i literally love u so much. thank u <3333333333#200 followers special!#i see many of my audience are childe kissers#but me too.#ik he is not a grocery shopper and does not take care of himself without his mom#this is canon.#childe#genshin impact#childe drabble#i also. did not expect this to turn into a mama's boy fic but i love it hahahah#childe | primoredial-jade
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