#//A sweet gift for a neat lad

[kibo-no-akademi]

HAPPY (late) BIRTHDAY HANNO!!

i missed his borthday....THROWS HIM at you @kibo-no-akademi

[wisteriainslumber]

“Wait, this is supposed to be relaxing?”

alternatively: TWST cast discover ways in which animal crossing: nh should not be played

once upon a time my playstyle was the entirety of ace’s section and then i thought “what if it was Worse” and this post was born

warnings: swearing, the aggravating process of getting villagers to move out, tom nook slander

Riddle

claims he doesn’t choose favourites but everyone & their mother knows he’s particularly fond of Merengue

would participate in the stalk market because he wakes up at 6AM like a maniac

also because he refuses to time travel

has a very neat island. he uses whatever time he can to improve on his island layout and is a very good form of stress relief for him

finally, a good coping method

gifts his villagers fruit most of the time, but will occasionally give them furniture and stuffed animals 

taken back by Pietro’s appearance in his campsite but now he is appointed the court jester

will tell no one that he adores the music in Pietro’s house

gets gold roses the quickest out of his classmates, but now he’s struggling with a major flower infestation

pls it won’t stop raining and he’s getting buried in petals

he really plays this game just to garden. this is not animal crossing this is Gardener Riddle Simulator now 

when he gets visitors, he demands they greet every villager in town as well. its the polite thing to do, after all

blathers is a fine lad but there’s one thing about him that really irks riddle

why is he complaining about doing his job?

he owns a museum, he asks for donations, and lets his personal bias get the better of him if given a bug (he says, yk, like a hypocrite)

bugs are part of the island and fit the criteria of things blathers asks for. there is even an entire wing of the museum dedicated to insects.

even if he has a distaste for bugs, the least the owl can do is his job. no one likes a biased educator

riddle wears a pretty little shirt customed designed with stars by sebek

cute, it’s really cute. except those stars are pentagrams, and both the wearer and designer still think they are a neat star pattern 

this was a relaxing game until riddle found out about the island rating system 

he will settle for no less than a 6, yes, six star rating

the bulletin board isn’t used for announcements it’s used for impromptu laws he declared

such laws include no vandalizing the board (only applies to ace), no slander towards one another (watch ur tone, Blanche), no tampering with the able sisters displays (he sees you, azul), and what looks like a wanted ad for Redd

yeah, it seems that azul & riddle have a common goal

sending literal long ass letters to his villagers if he catches them being mean to each other. 

after being enraged by the character limit because he wasnt finISHED, he settled for reporting them to isabelle

the peace era lasted a week

Trey

he loves the squirrel villagers so much, namely Mint. i’ll give you two guesses as to why

besides Mint he has a unique fascination for Blaire because she’s got the attitude of his classmates 😭😭

has the most variety of villager personality types on his island. the most normal villagers he’s had on there have peaked at 2 at one time. he likes the variety

or maybe he likes to convince himself hes the most normal one there who knows

gifts his villagers sunglasses when it’s sunny but then they kinda look like douches especially his jock villagers

keeps Flora on his island specifically so riddle can come visit her and chat in her home

it’s like an unbirthday party, but without any of the work #hallelujah

unsurprisingly his bathroom is the most furnished room in his home. other than that, he loves to decorate the outside of his house with flowers and has a constant rotation of wreaths on his door

big fan of Mable and Sable, they’re so sweet, reminds him of his go-to hedgehogs in croquet 

accidental dealer of furniture in heartslabyul

heartslabyul student C wanted a nice moon rug and asked trey if he knew how to get one, and trey went the extra mile to find & give it to him himself

the story spread and now all his students come ask him for stuff

he did not ask for this job </3

stocks up on mystery floorings and wallpapers whenever Saharah comes to visit

perhaps it is in his heartslabyul soul to make everything in his house whack

10000% laughs at the dad jokes in this game

let out a hearty ass chuckle at "i caught a snapper! its pretty dapper!"

no one but trey thinks they’re funny. clever maybe, but not funny

every time he sees C.J he points him out to cater and asks him about his hidden beaver relative

they talk the EXACT SAME. and trey thinks hes so funny for this (okay acc hes so right for this one)

everyone’s least favourite villager has to have some fans and that fan is trey. he has major “i can fix them” energy therefore he would love the most unpopular villagers

and by love i mean he is the only one that disapproves when lilia and leona form a temporary alliance to chase Barold around the island to hit him with nets 

Cater

you know damn well he went for the customizable phone case first

that horrific ugly phone case is so persistent in its survival that it transcends beyond the physical realm to do so

doodling on everyone’s bulletin boards so they get messages from their favourite senior <3

keeps one or two peppy villagers, but ultimately enjoys the chill of normal and lazy villagers the most

theyre just so kind.. and supportive :((

wants to collect all of the heart themed characters because they are pink and cute and full of love (is he convincing others or himself?)

ironically he doesnt end up collecting any of those villagers and his favourite villager is Cousteau because he has a funny mustache

let his favourite villager leave when they ask. he takes this so personally. thinks they didn’t wanna be there </3

Cousteau immediately went to rooks island too like. bruh okay then a fake french for a fake french >:(

cater now has a new favourite villager and it is Nate. they are besties, they are 4lyfers, he gets the best flowers around his house and the rarest of fruit

passes off the furniture he doesnt want to deuce and tells them they're gifts😭😭

obsessively putting smiley faces everywhere in his home to resemble his own room (???)

has matching mama bears with trey but instead of putting it inside it guards his house from the outside

having an identity crisis after the C.J comparison

he is not beating the C.J allegations but he loves to catch fish for him so they can take photos together

has a legitimate fear of Lloid because of the hollow eyes that crazy thing has. its like he can see into your soul 

because cater wants Lloid out of his island pronto he doesn’t wait for donations from his villagers he just pays up front

go away ASAP s’il vous plait🙏🙏

if you thought his dialogue consisted of 60% kaomoji before, its upped to the ninteys now

he's found a way to perform the reactions IRL and hasnt stopped since

in fact this is caters and kalims main form of communication

has a vacation area on the beach specifically designed with jamil in mind

not that jamil never visits, but his visits have increased to just chillax and take photos 

jamil is noticeably kinder to cater, and ruggie is seething in the back (gotta respect ur elders or smth idk)

has a million different fruit trees everywhere for the sake of fruit jokes

this is fruity island now, leave your zebra merch at the airport

unfortunately he gets unsatisfied with his island or villagers and wipes the file once every few months to start anew again

and because he’s indecisive, his name and island name will be the exact same too. 

rip to his classmates that have to scroll through 5 cater copies to find his current file. this is not how they imagined Split Card was supposed to be used for

Ace

uses the type in your own answer function for evil

makes his villagers call him weird names and makes them say inappropriate things

vendetta against the smug villagers. they sound like his bossy brother and grim

Wart Jr. happens to be his favourite villager. he’s never explained why

but grim & deuce say that he and ace both share the same smug ass look

ace does not agree with this statement

unspoken agreement from the dorm to not let ace into their world but he finds a way to break in and vandalizes their notice boards for the trouble

gave Hamlet a hamster cage and laughed when he displayed it

why cant he be nice😔

karma does come back around though, and it came in the form of Francine moving onto aces island

ace has never felt so much rage in a seemingly relaxing game

he doesnt even have a good reason for disliking her either she’s just too vibrantly blue for his liking

now all of the first years terrorize him with homemade good morning gifs of Francine that they edit themselves

high effort to cause ace as much inconvenience as possible, of course

his friends hate him because he blows up their console with “Ace Trappola is Online!” from all his time travelling

he’s trying to get this bitchass villager to move out why the hell is the STUPID bubble on everyone else but Francine!!?!?!?

100000% ready to reset his island just to purge his console of that damn bunny

hes so lucky that riddle does not do island inspections because his console would be forcibly taken away

at least isabelle is nice about it, but riddle would flame him

way too lazy to make his own custom designs so he steals them and subjects all his villagers to them

despite all of the chaos he sows, he’s one of the best terraformers and genuinely helps grim with his island. still bullies him the whole time tho💀

he reaches extremely high friendships with his villagers

yeah hes been working hard on the DL why is that so surprising >:(

Deuce

he loves Celia

he imagines this is what those indentured princesses in the fairy tales look like before their big transformation

plus Celia looks and is so friendly. she reminds him of his neighbours back home

making a gift out of anything he finds in the nook store.

wraps all his gifts too! has a bunch of wrapping to choose from to match his villagers. his villagers deserve the most!

gets giddy every time he receives a letter from Mom. gets angy that he cannot send letters or gifts back to her

at first he didnt really vibe with Cherry's punk look but shes got a soft place in deuces heart now. appearances can be deceiving and he respects that (some say he has a RBF). Celia has competition

sebek had told deuce that he and Cherry look alike and deuce pestered sebek for a while asking how to look less like a bad boy :((

even in game ace & deuce have matching everything. ace has Hamlet and deuce has Hamphrey to match

they both complain endlessly about their matching stuff but always refuse when their villagers request to move out

still keep up appearances though, they start wars trying to nab a villager the other wanted first

keeps being bitten by wasps because he doesnt know you can catch them with nets

whenever riddle visits he runs around and picks up weeds for him without scolding him

takes his job as the island representative very seriously. you will not catch him slacking in making sure his island is a well decorated habitat 

hasn’t gotten the hang of custom designs but trades the holiday DIYs to floyd in exchange for a few sidewalk/clothing designs

treats any request by his villagers as his god given duty

he was placed on this island to look after everyone and he is going to do his job WELL.

takes every and any opportunity he can to go on leonas island to admire the architecture and try to recreate it himself

has many heart ponds on his island after he unlocked terraforming 

once he had a sleepover with the first years and they switched consoles for the night

deuce was extremely nice and helped catch a few bugs and increase friendship with villagers for sebek. wholesome stuff

but of course the terror that is ace trappola was fighting for everyone else’s console to vandalize- i mean, terraform their island

safe to say no one’s island was safe from a pp pond. thanks ace >:(

deuce did get his revenge though, he teamed up with epel just to make a trash moat around aces house

even though ace is aware that deuce put up a bulletin post on his board calling him stinky, it has not been deleted lmao

Leona

gets rid of all the lion villagers, there can only be one member of the kingscholar family on this terf

he keeps a lot of the peppy villagers on his island

if asked, he will say they are annoying and won’t gtfo but it’s because its too silent and peaceful without the annoyance

hes too used to being interrupted all the time by a tiny cub jumping on him that he doesnt know how to function without it anymore wbk

not that he would kick out as many male villagers as possible but these jock villagers are getting on his nerves. like not even jack is that muscle obsessed

plus, big macho muscle men is such an outdated thing, grow up, Dom.

leaves gulliver alone. his business is his business

for someone so cranky, he beefs with the cranky villagers the most. says theyre so entitled and annoying LMAO

only one he doesnt beef with is isabelle. yeah, she gives him shitty ratings on his island but she’s so sweet, and she’s stuck with ruggies #1 enemy so she deserves the special treatment, you hear?

leona is the first out of his classmates to get his friendship high enough to receive a villager’s photo. no one knows how, but yea, leona and Stella are like besties now. they’re 4lyfers. BFFLS <33

what can he say, that island is his pride

makes a little library in his house, it sucks that there aren’t any readable books in this game so he studies the lore instead

he gets to one-up idia on the animal crossing expertise if nothing else🎉

places down mats and pet beds anywhere in case his lazy villagers need a lil nap (it’s not how it works but gotta appreciate the thought)

ruggie and idia have this weird cahoots going on where they leave pitfall traps everywhere for him. 

rivalry with malleus ended, new rivalry with these two gremlins

leona has beat the 'lazy' (is it really?) allegations hes making custom design after custom design just to spite his classmates

his interest solely lies in giving his juniors the True High School Experience

posts loving reminders on his classmates’ notice boards. such as a very “clean up ur island” on kalim’s and a very kind “the onceler called, he wants his island back” on azul’s

actually they’re not reminders at all, they’re just disguised insults

he also very kindly leaves fruit that epel doesn’t have on his island. he says it was his starter fruit (it was not) so he doesn’t need it 

in fact for some reason his island has become a playground for the first years

despite his complaints about bothering him, he always ends up opening up his island for them, even if hes still complaining during it

do not comment on it if you’d like to keep your eyeballs

Ruggie

runs a not-very-lowkey nook miles ticket business

take that azul, he’s the one drowning in riches now

made mad tickets by being an animal slave trader

azul felt it was morally wrong because they were so cute but ruggie does not give a flying eff

you all think azul's the person who treats people like pawns? absolutely the hell not

my guy ruggie & jamil are the kings of human (in this case, animal) meat shields & theres no time to debate morals in this economy

only one hes not keen on slaving away is Tutu. she simply looks too sweet for ruggie to subject that treatment onto

tries really hard to draw a lil picture of his classmates’ favourite villagers onto the notice boards, because he’s nice like that

plus it doesnt hurt to have a few brownie points with everyone :)

extends extra effort to get into jades good graces because 1. no one wants to be in his bad graces and 2. he is so high maintenance >:( 

ruggie is probably being hella scammed bc jade has been eating up his iron stash with nothing to show for until a few months later

living his fun little fishing dad life

bro’s a pro fisher, he’s beating the fishing tourney with flying colours. knows every fishing trick in the book & helps sebek catch all the fish he keeps scaring away

doesn’t matter who hates tom nook the most, because ruggie hates him more

his villagers are going to unionize. we rally under comrade ruggie

doesnt listen to a damn thing the raccoon tells him after the tutorial and only pays for his house if he runs out of storage

he writes letters to his villagers and has a daily graffiti notice board post to remind everyone that their island motto is “down with tom nook”

vive la revolutione

because history is important or whatever blathers said, ruggie decided to honour her majesty the queen of hearts with his island flag

it depicts tom nook under a guillotine 

riddle is slightly horrified

that One Time trey visited, he left with a new anti tom nook shirt bc ruggie insisted trey show off his hard work

unlike all of his other classmates, lilia is delighted to see so much passion and joins in on the revolution not knowing a single thing

one peruse into ruggies island and malleus is now convinced that tom nook is some sort of evil mastermind keeping the player and his villagers captive

Jack

increasingly disturbed by a villager named Ace who moved in

he gifted the villager a basketball out of kindness

but seeing how different the villager was from the ace he knew (cough cough, hardworking), jack would prefer if he moved out 

also a time travel anti. his friends are all time travelling but he will refuse to be tempted

stretches with his villagers every morning. it’s good to get the oxygen flowing for a good, energizing start to the day

all of his buildings have either hedges or flowers around them. hes very committed to the aesthetic of Mother Nature

joining riddle in the Gardener Simulator squad. his sole goal is making his entire island a pretty little garden

sometimes he does wish he could have Leif on his island permanently. he likes the friendly lil sloth creechure

not much preference in who moves into his island but he does have a penchant for the sisterly and jock villagers

they’re friendly and always keeping each other in check. it’s a mutually beneficial relationship

plus they have way more integrity than the rest of his friends lmao bye

personally vibes with Sterling for that diligent knight energy. jack has plenty of role models to choose from and this time he happened to want to learn from silver

even though his entire island is the most jock-oriented place, his favourite villager is Bangle. she gets along with almost all of his villagers and is always in a good mood. 

he thinks she has a good personality to lead the island pack

one of the few that tries to even give tom nook an ounce of respect. he wont join in on the hate but he wont necessarily defend the raccoon either

bless his big heart

the savanaclaw students adore jacks island and his complete butterfly exhibit

every friday after dinner, the savanaclaw students all huddle and play animal crossing together i will die on this hill

they love to camp out in jacks island and by the savanaclaw lounge, you’ll see a string of photoshoots in jack’s butterfly exhibit

who initiated this? why, leona of course! he’s giving jack the recognition he deserves & it gets the dorm bonding

(it also gets ppl to visit jack’s island more, which means ppl visit leonas island less😏)

puts up a daily motivational quote on the boards

got highly offended when sebek once compared him to a jock villager. it wasnt bc he hated the villager, it was bc sebek meant it as an insult >:(

Azul

his favourite villager is Marina

she’s super nice and has never hurt a fly. he complies to all of her whims. how can you say no to her??

finally, someone can understand idias penchant for cute things

in tears after knowing the octopi are sought after by the masses he’s so proud

was less proud when jade joked the octopi were endangered bc they were getting eaten like can you not >:((

cannot participate in the stalk market he time travels so much

sure, the weeds will increase but it’s a small price to pay for efficiency 

pays his debts as fast as possible. not because he’s a good noodle, but because he won’t risk interest (even though there is no interest)

has an ongoing (one-sided) rivalry with redd and gathers all of the real artworks he can get

the paintings are a good deal he supposes but redd truly needs a better atmosphere if he wishes to continue selling

his boat doesnt even look approachable, & ambiance is a big factor when getting your clients to be comfortable. azul could totally lend out a few tips. all for the generous price of free!

he changed his mind after he misclicked and bought a fake painting, so he decided to pawn it off saying it was real. as a famous princess once said, some things never change

he’s long completed his art collection, but if you’re in need of a certain artwork, you can have it for the right price <3

pissed as hell over the snooty villagers. you think you’re better than him huh???

or, that’s what he wishes he feels. he just feels bullied in his own domain

money DOES grow on trees so therefore azul’s island is decorated in bell trees

he got excited when a tree dropped a coin. 

got less excited when he picked up the coin and it got put in his wallet

he thought there were different coins and he could have a digital coin collection too :(

builds something akin to a mostro lounge 2.0, not really for monetary purposes, it’s just a nice outdoor plaza for his villagers to hang out in :)

mad respect for his villagers who go to the lounge during winter season. it is very cold :(

but they look so adorable in their sweaters and hats and scarves🥺 jade, floyd, perhaps its time to invest in a miniature clothing line

a completionist! he will try to earn every achievement, and complete his critterpedia!

he heard riddle wanted to complete the critterpedia so azul did it first to impress him, but all riddle told azul is that he needed to spend less time on the game osijfgnrfg big L

Jade

starting hissy fights with floyd over the villager he wanted moving into floyd’s island

refuses to let floyd on his island for weeks because he’s So Hurt. just look at how upset he is :'(

had Raymond during his hype and refuses to let him go to this day. he’s gotten attached

hes got some cool ass preppy vest and their eyes match!!

often mentions that he wants to invite Tia on his island in hopes someone gets the hint

(so far no one has yet, but jade is a master at playing the long game)

has a concerning amount of sharks on display: both in tanks and as plaques

he misses the hunt <3

kept refusing to give back wisp’s body in hopes something would happen but ur basically forced to give it back ugh

how boring. he hoped there wouldve been consequences or something

actually he hoped that wisp would lose his shit

his house isn’t really for living in, it’s for storage. his home is the outdoors and hes placing down the furnishing to prove it

many forget that jade is also just living his best life, just a little guy. hes so jealous of his villagers. he too wants to only water flowers, fish for hours, and visit his nice neighbours in their pretty little homes

almost always wearing some kind of wide-brimmed hat to really sell the image that his home is the outdoors

cater is constantly handing jade some more trendy clothes because he thinks jade’s fashion is atrocious, but jade. never. wears. them.

hell, next year he might just use his island as a way to recruit people into the mountain-lovers club

makes ugly ass custom designs and genuinely think it looks good (anyone remember that one time jade dressed himself?)

forget leona, maybe it’s jade that has the uncle fashion. socks with sandals and all

aside from his own kin, no one has seen him physically hold a console in his hands, yet, his hours in this game would give idia a run for his money

theres some skeletons in the basement yeah

no seriously, he has skeletons in the basement. it looks like a jail. theres custom design blood on the floor

all that iron he's been pilfering from ruggie goes into steel bars👍👍

but he’ll say its for educational purposes

between you and me though, thats the corpse of Chadder. he hates rats- wait what do you mean wrong game??

Floyd

loves Zucker because “he looks edible” 

because of course he’d say that

terrorizing one octopus wasn’t enough he needed to terrorize two

obsessively resets his island until he gets peaches

fighting with jade over his console to drop iron for him

his house looks fine and normal in every room besides the basement. 

there’s seven skeletons chilling in there with bubblegum k on 24/7 loop

its a skeleton rave because they deserve to have fun too goddamnit

out of the twins, floyd has the neater house. hes quite committed to the aesthetics of his virtual space 

his happy home academy scores have reached the peak and hasn’t moved from there at all

it’s also vil certified! he really liked floyd’s home and told him he could land a career in interior design

says he’s gonna custom design the octavinelle uniform for azul and yassified it up so its a crop top & shorts now :D

dont forget them knee high boots

had fun designing but it was less of a “mini matching octavinelle uniform for us awww” and more of a “what would azul hate to wear”

(azul absolutely fuckin hates it to shreds so yay!! mission accomplished!)

even though azul reluctantly wears it, floyd had legitimately made the real uniform for him should azul choose to change clothes

his home storage is filled with 80% clothes bc of course his shoe collection carries over to the virtual space

horrible person he loves to scare wisp but will never hunt the ghost bits to give back to him

once he got his hands on the ocarina it was over for his multiplayer invites

his most used tool frfr. depending on the day he’ll play a pop song he memorized or a cacophony of sounds

kalim is the only one who thinks its a good idea to extend floyd an invite to the pop music club

like ace, also uses the type in your own answer function for evil. except he forgets what he writes all the time and it jumps back in his face

villagers be asking him a month later if his favourite hobby was “de-boning Blathers” and then saying they “should try it out themselves”

probably owns Saharah’s entire collection of mystery everything, and just like lilia he will run around and bury them on other peoples islands like some kinda hamster

another one that just pawns off stuff to his juniors, but instead of calling them gifts he straight up says he doesnt want it before handing them off

at least he’s honest LMAO

Kalim

his entire head is a radio that is constantly playing bubblegum k on loop

leaves stuff all over the place then forgets about it

when a villager gifts him something he will make sure to put it on or find a place for it to display right away

look at the cool leaf umbrella Pashmina gave him!!

personally vibes with the peppy villagers the most since they’re so upbeat. he tries his best to talk to Wendy every day

spends most of his bells on random furniture to place everywhere. his home storage has always been empty because he wants to display everything

he especially puts in extra work for the seasonal furniture but he’s constantly out of materials

runs circles around his villagers in greeting

takes advantage of the many reactions at his disposal. makes happy gestures at his villagers in greeting

he leaves fruit and picnic baskets all over the island in case his villagers wants to hold an impromptu party or have a lil snack

vending machines are a MUST

food is his love language! 

gifts too but you can only give one a day :(

gets super sad when his villagers dont want to repeatedly talk to him

puts nice lil messages into his friends notice boards and draws a lil stick figure of himself to accompany them

kalim mentioned one day that he would wear an entire line of clothes vil designed and vil puts a few of them on kalim’s island

kalim most enjoys it when his villagers wear vil’s designs because he can match with them! thanks vil :DD

hes always wearing a wetsuit underneath in case he wants to go for a dive

adores the little seal, he goes swimming often just to bump into him to give him scallops

sticks around after he hands over the scallops just to see the seal hold it

encourages his classmates to take lots of photos with him

only his fossil and art exhibits are full

(the art exhibit not really because he doesn’t know how to spot the counterfeit artworks)

he doesn’t want to take the sea creatures away from their home

this does not apply to the insects though. call him blathers’ comrade because he is a valiant knight in chasing away the bugs on jamil’s island

in exchange, jamil farms materials for kalim (why is he always short on softwood???)

Jamil

floyd breaks into his island to hit all of his villagers with nets

emphasizes with blathers because of the mutual hate for bugs

not appreciating ace making crappy renditions of jamil as blathers on the notice boards

steers clear of flick. that has got to be the freakiest thing hes ever met and hes had several conversations with rook hunt

he can take all the bugs tho, if jamil was brave enough to catch any

the lazy villagers are absolutely adorable and wholesome but jamil is sobbing on the inside. listen its nice that you want to share your fruit with your friends but u can do better than insects

if those six-legged devils are invading your space, sooner or later, you’ll be contracting the entire alphabet of hepatitis

drives all the smug villagers out of his island. he doesn’t want this negative energy in his safe haven

he keeps a few peppy villagers. he thought he would tire of them quickly, but sometimes u need a lil happy-go-lucky energy as a pick-me-up

lets kalim pillage all of the coconuts on his island for his coconut tree forest

silver’s favourite villager resides on jamils island and he asks all the time if he can come over to say hi to them

silver keeps telling him that Plucky reminds him of his dad because he also gives silver daily self-defence tips and sleeps hella late 

and u know what the more jamil hears of silvers father the more confused he gets. its hard to condense so many unrelated characteristics into a single personality, but apparently silver’s dad has it all

spends an ungodly amount of time in the able sisters and nooks cranny because the characters follow him around like little ducks and he likes the sound of their liddol footsteps

also very much appreciates all the authority he has on this island its the small semblance of control his virgo ass can get

he can legit tell a villager to move their house somewhere and they’ll agree with a smile

always treats his villagers with respect

has a strange obsession with fire. he places campfires and torches all over the place

will not rest until his island looks exactly the way he wants, down to the last detail

hella annoyed during island recruiting because he cannot pick his villagers, and everyone’s uniqueness is clashing with the aesthetic jamil was going for, now he has to change it

his favourite villagers are the normal personality ones, and if he could control the villagers that move in, he would have an island to Poppy and Bertha’s liking

another one of the cries when he receives letters from mom squad. shes just really sweet.

Vil

when Whitney moved on his island he got reminded of jack then took it back after getting to know her personality. ik it looks like a bad thing but its not, she grew on him very quick

not very fussy about his villagers, no matter how strange their designs are 

ik ur probably thinking “but some of them are so ugly”, yeah but vil lives with twink he-man tailing him every day

nah im joking its bc he talks to his villagers often and they’re so nice and vil Gets Attached Easily

besides, they love all the clothing and furniture vil gives them. vil can’t even get epel to appreciate his own looks, this is a certified W for vil

sometimes its the inside that matters most <3

while vil kind of still has a bit of celeb status in-game, it’s not over-the-top, so it feels extremely refreshing to be regarded as Just Vil

plus the close-knitted community in the island reminds vil of home. its nice

wishes his villagers were nicer to each other but there isn’t a scold option in the game >:( might report them to isabelle

makes it a mission to get rid of a cranky villager after seeing them be mean to Gala. Whitney is the only ‘mean’ one allowed here

dreaded inviting leona to his island for one reason and one reason only: he put his own designs into able sisters

please, Gala is wearing leopard print, this is a crime

made his own custom designs to fill leonas island with them. the third years stay beefing for eternity

(according to trey, leona camps on vils island waiting to snatch Gala up)

besides the weaponry potential he has, vil spends most of his talents on making really nice designs

rook loves to wax poetry on the artistry of vil’s mind & then he ends up creating more. it’s a continuous cycle of art appreciation <33

speaking of rook, he had gifted vil an amiibo card of Étoile telling him ‘a star for a star’ 

vil does a very bad job hiding his favour towards her

but he does let rook take any lion, tiger, or gorilla villagers off his island (sigh)

found the most enjoyment after one of leonas favourite villagers left and came to vils island, saying that they finally realized they deserved better💀   

but cater so graciously opened his mouth to dub Cheri as “leonas leftovers” and yeah, you can probably imagine how that turned out

Rook

the hunting instinct has Awoken

mans has every fish & bug & sea creature in the critterpedia

he did lots of island hopping to do so

need a tarantula? he’s got cages of them. they’re so fuzzy and fast and their eyes are so cute!

jamil has sworn off ever visiting rooks island. evidence of his hunting instinct are inescapable

unfortunately for jamil, rook is loud and proud about the fruits of his labour. invites everyone to come take a look at his island and museum

azul comes in frequently to take pictures in the aquarium

jade would be bonding with rook more over the hunt but, they started a bet over who gets the highest score in the fishing tourney so, no bonding today

(there was no competition to begin with since ruggie swept up the entire tourney anyways)

never fails to send each and every one of his villagers a personalized letter telling them how much he adores them

‘you look radiant when you’re asleep’ holds merit because some of his villagers do nap under the trees, but it’s a still a pretty unusual comment to receive

nevertheless, his villagers are very receptive to him and tend to send him many letters back

gets max friendship with so many villagers so quickly and for why?? he just wants their portrait to display in his house

theres a room full of portraits and really it looks more like a hitlist than a documentation of his journey of friendship

do not ask him to choose a favourite villager, for he finds beauty in them all. it is simply too cruel to ask him to pick just one

unleashes the voices in his head onto the bulletin boards

they are mostly love musings and occasional tiny drawings

some of the times they are helpful hunting tips!

idia claims that there was no need to inform his villagers about how to preserve the hide of a jaguar but you never know when his villagers need to defend themselves against The Unknown (no he will not elaborate)

camps on everyone’s island to take the villagers that are moving out

yes, it is a shame that they must leave monsieur magicam's island, but he too understands the calling of adventure. please, come join his island for a rest until the next island awaits :))

hosts bigger goodbye parties than kalim. rook would be a terrible island representative if he did not give a heartwarming farewell to his now former villager, oui?

their time spent together was enriching, but who is rook to stop them from pursuing another destination on their journey? people often forget that there is beauty in endings

Epel

also obsessively reset his island until he got a certain fruit

once he got his pears he traded them with jack for his apples

almost exclusively keeps his island in winter as it reminds him of harveston aww

not appreciating the comparisons to Apple

extremely not appreciating sebek putting her into an enclosure because he doesnt like the interior of her home

considering sebek partook in the comparisons to Apple, epel is now banishing any crocodile villagers to the furthest corner of his island. they can live in isolation😡

it really doesnt last long, he got attached to Gayle. like father like son fr

even funnier his favourite villager is Judy but he will tell everyone that its Boots

he also has the most fruit trees on his island out of everyone. ace raids epels island all the time to steal fruit and sell it off (mostly with permission, but theres always that one time without)

happily gave azul some tips on tree placement & how to display as much as possible bc this is his Expertise

cue the next week azul was constantly asking epel if he needed any furniture and epel finally named something he wanted

low and behold he got it in the mail and azul stopped pestering him

huh. his seniors are really nice, arent they? :D

vil made a regal little flag design for epels island that epel swore he would never use but it’s always there when vil visits

he absolutely keeps the tune rook composed though. it sounds like boss music #weballin

highkey adores the able sisters (especially sable) they’re so kind they remind him of his town’s elders 

his villagers constantly compliment him and give him clothes🥺

unlike with vil he will happily wear whatever cute shit his villagers give him, even if he prefers the cool stuff

like you said vil, charm & cuteness is a weapon and its one his villagers exploit heavily. he’s jotting down notes the next time he wants vils lessons to end sooner😏

diligent with his landscape you will never see a single weed anywhere

his tree stumps are intentional and his tree placement is all arranged nicely

takes up gardening too and is the second to get the gold roses, but it didn’t fit with his island, so he passed them off them to malleus instead

kindly takes off the flowers colonizing riddle’s island to put them in his

can we get a round of applause? for epel has every species of flower on his island !!

Idia

finally, a place where he is The Boss and people will respect him for it

ortho recommended this game to him so they can play together

(it was mostly to comfort him after his favourite ship didn’t become canon)

cried the first time his villagers gave him a compliment :((

When Audie tells him “I managed to make some awesome friends, like you, Idia!”, he understands now why ortho told him to download this game

sniffling through this game it’s so wholesome

ofc he knows the lore about Audie its why shes his favourite

idia decides to keep his island full of peppy villagers to suit the vibe, match the aesthetic, etc

the only exception to the personality rule is if theres a cat villager, then they’re forgiven for any and all crimes

(this is a trick question, for they can do no wrong)

memorizes his villagers’ preferred gifts bc they get nothing else but the best!

actually all of his custom designs are cosplays. his villagers wear his designs. hes leaked water over this game more than hes ever in his life

isabelles soft, cheerful energy is really what gets idia through his day. shes the perfect amounts of outgoing without being too overwhelming

many people often believe that vil is catty but idia is literally right There

hes a bitch and everyone knows it. its just super forgettable because theres so many other aspects of idias personality that overshadows his mean bitch energy

idia will specifically go to azuls domain just to insult his trees and the placement of his furniture

he approves of the yassified octavinelle outfit tho its very tasteful

judges people who don’t know super obscure details like why do you have to be a casual AND normal about the game pick a struggle >:(

makes little mods and tweaks to the game. he coded in that his villagers can lie down on the mats, hammocks, and on the beach

four updates in though, a bug occurred and his villagers roll around on the ground like how they do in beds

it was way too funny so idia kept it that way and didnt patch up the bug

if anyone passes by him in the halls they might hear him singing acnh tunes

absolutely evil. doxxing people (its ruggie) for trying to auction off Bob & kicking his feet and wiggling his toes while talking to Audie the next second

he finds out that ace really wants to get rid of Francine so yeah, idias making derogatory drawings of Francine on ace’s notice boards and sending him anti-Francine memes

nothing brings two people closer together more than mutual hatred they said

Ortho

he’s inviting all of the robot villagers and they are having a blast

is very supportive of Ketchup’s dreams to be a popstar! he regularly puts microphone stands near her house and gives her lots of sparkly clothing

hes a fan of all the duck villagers, really. their little beaks and happy faces :)

his favourite villager is Doc. no particular reason but ortho has always wanted a grandparent

plus Doc talks about comics and superheros and ortho will not miss an opportunity to nerd out (even though Doc’s opinions are very on the safe side. ortho thirsts for controversy)

once ortho visited riddle’s island and asked for Kid Cat if he moved out

riddle gave him a generous donation of flowers to send Kid Cat off with😭😭  

if idias skipping his 8 hours of sleep, ortho will make him do the stretches with the villagers (hes the reason why they're all out of sync)

technically ortho joins in but he doesnt exactly need any stretching

hacked the star fragment trees into his world. low risk, high reward!!

uses those trees to recreate the stargazer tree and designed his own starsending gear to go along with it☺️

shared the design with jack and invited him onto his island for a photoshoot

jack is amazed by the trees and says he cant wait until he can grow star fragment trees and ortho just smiles through it all

jack would be so disappointed to learn ortho got them in less than legal means

maybe he'll hack them onto his island in secret

also puts his own little mods in. he makes some custom design furniture and FINALLY PUTS THE FROG CHAIR IN

even adds some characters he wants and brings back the ruthless dialogue from the past AC games

personally makes an entire set of furniture that references his favourite movies (extra care is given to ones vil has starred in)

ortho’s playstyle is a lot less wholesome than idias because he likes a challenge

he made an entire DLC called animal crossing: survival island because he heard silver talking about it (probably works like minecraft hard mode)

put pride flag custom designs in the shop to wait for his villagers to come out :) 

after they “come out”, ortho makes a little backstory on it and gets idia to guess their stories. he’s got lore in this island now !!

fluent in the entire soundtrack. he makes the noises, hes downloaded the bgm

ortho wants an irl isabelle and he’s preparing a 70-slide powerpoint presentation to convince idia to get him a dog

kinda overkill since all ortho needs is to give him the puppy dog eyes

Malleus

for the sake of this hc lets say he at least knows the controls

confuses this game for pokemon and tries to “catch” his villagers with the net

gets confused when they get mad at him

hes very very amused by how normal his villagers treat him

these tiny little animals are cowering in fear by the thought of ghosts even though they are technically walking over bones of the dead

they gas him up so much for the tiniest things he does and if it were anyone else but these fluffy animals he would think it was belittlement

it feels like he’s important, not for his titles nor his accomplishments, but just because his animal friends love him

he can see why silver loves to talk to the birds now

when he’s on someone’s island he can lurk and be afk until he’s kicked off

has statues everywhere. he doesn’t really know how to pick them up after theyre put down so don’t mind the random statues by the airport

tries to put down as least furniture as possible bc of one too many incidents of him picking up the sidewalk instead of his fruit

anyone near him during this can add many ancient curses to their forbidden vocabulary👀👀

when his villagers threw a birthday party for him...

rumours say the valley of thorns was sunny for the first time that day!!

his favourite villager is Coco and he cherishes her with his life

he also has a certain favour towards crocodile villagers as well, namely Drago bc he shares the name of one of his tamagotchis

doesnt do much in this game but talk to his villagers

loves the night walks in the game because he can bump into two things Celeste, or Wisp

hes so intrigued by Celeste shes fr just chilling and living her best life looking at the stars. it reminds him of lilia

given lilia is way more devious so maybe not😔

Wisp is a lot less brave than any ghost hes met and malleus thinks hes adorable. he feels very guilty for frightening him all the time however

it felt so dehumanizing trying to catch a dragonfly he was pouting for weeks

highkey cannot drop the game because he left for a while and when he came back his villagers were wailing about how he left them alone for months

hes never leaving them alone again he doesnt want them to feel abandoned

Lilia

his name in the game is not lilia, oh no

his name is dad. he is now the proud father of 10 more children

11 counting isabelle

debates are still on the table of whether or not tom nook is a legitimate dignified son of lilias

he even has a time out corner for his naughty villagers

its just him barricading that villagers house

he did barricade resident services for a good 15 minutes before receiving an amiibo card from silver and he wanted to use it

favours the lazy villagers because they are a certain brand of adorable and they try to make friends with everyone

technically loves all his villagers but he always points out Kevin because he ‘looks very friendly’

had a big ass laugh after deuce compared Kevin’s smile to treys

when he’s on someones island he treats it like hide and seek. he will never be found

getting access to the custom design was fun for lillia, but not for anyone else

sometimes he throws down some eldritch horror, sometimes his outfits look like a glowstick exploded

his island is in permanent halloween mode 

buries random shit on other peoples islands. they dig it up thinking it’s a fossil and instead get mystery wallpaper, random stacks of clay, and random diys

call it an everyday egg hunt if you will

he has three rooms dedicated to kitchenware and is trying to (more like going to) find a way to cook smth nice for his villagers. its the least he could do as thanks

if not then he’ll just buy fruit baskets and hand them out to his villagers. he’s such an asian dad

doesnt bat in eye when his villagers knock up on his door and barge into his house

he's welcoming them with open arms. why of course Pudge you can sit on the ground and read ur book for as long as you want ^^

he'll be doing his own thing too #parallelplay or something idk

(on a side note, Pudge’s face is probably how every visitor on lilia’s island feels)

Silver

thought there were going to be more survival elements to the game since it starts with himself & a group of animals on some remote island 

as soon as the plane was hovering over the island, silver was ticking off potential water, food, & shelter sources

threw him for a loop when he found out how peaceful this game was. it’s pleasant :)

doesn’t stop him from valiantly chasing off the wasps and scorpions and fleas away from his villagers

don’t worry Lolly, you’re under silver’s protection now. nothing will hurt you :)

even though the threats in this game are minimal, silver keeps lights & campfires all over just for safety reasons

if his villagers end up lost, all they need to do is follow the light! and if they want some alone time, the fire can keep them safe & warm <3

he thinks Flick is adorable. has a shy little personality and likes to make art and bug friends (?) 

constantly supports Flick by giving him bugs for commissions. everyone deserves the chance to follow their dreams :)

peacefully picking seashells on the beach while sebek is scaring away all of the fish

really fond of the zodiac furniture. he wants to collect them all

he makes around 100 wishes every time. just lays his console down and presses A

thinks celeste is very sweet. sad that she doesnt visit often

certified photographer. he takes a lot of pictures with his villagers because he’s just. so happy they like his island, they like each other, it’s such a wholesome atmosphere

cater and silver have a shared magicam account dedicated to their pics it’s very cute and the followers mostly consist of savanaclaw and diasomnia members 

loves seeing his villagers interact with each other. their conversations are so cute, they visit each others homes!! bros gonna sink into his mattress and flood it with tears

do not underestimate him, even if it is most likely made up, silver will become fluent in the Language of the Coded Animals

he will not curse but the animal noises are the closest he’ll get if he ever chooses to

all of his villagers get a royalty treatment. silver's residents are the most spoiled residents ever

fills his notice boards with drawings of his villagers saying nice things, like reminding him to drink water, or to hug his friends

at the same time he also puts in survival tips just like how lilia raised him. its a very contrasting mix of messages

Sebek

even online he is Too Much

sprints everywhere and wonders why all the bugs and fish flee

hes got places to be and no amount of time to waste

his home interior is a lot like diasomnia but bro do not let him get ahold of the custom designs

im sure hes a really good artist but anyone who's tried operating the custom designs knows that it zaps any artistic skill you've ever learned

traditional art? fucking amazing. acnh art? now ur kid with a purple crayon

stick figures. drawing the diasomnifam does not work. theres 4 stick figures. one has horns, one has bat wings, ones surrounded by animals, and one is Just Green.

his priorities shifted to practicing custom design until he mastered it

does not take commissions. if he ever bestows a custom design onto someone, its a sign of sebek’s approval/respect of them

hes very committed to the aesthetic. hes terraforming his island every single week based on his current mood (bros going thru it)

competes with silver for every kind of grading they get (happy home academy, island rating, etc)

this is what motivates him to come back and play

dont be mistaken either this is not one-sided. mutual rivalry is the best way to keep the other improving !!

hoards all of the holiday materials to make the diys that he doesnt have or collect

personally having the maddest beef with the snowboys bc one accidental nudge of a snowball resulted in them insulting sebek’s snowmen-building competence

sebek obviously does better the next time, but then the snowboys are just so egotistic for no reason. all they did was sit there and get built, they could never measure up to his master malleus, or lilia

by the third run-in with the snowboys, he just opts to crush or drown the snowballs. the winter DIYs weren’t worth the effort

the fued w/ one Ace Trappola has not ended since the day he got the console because they wanted the same villager and started fighting over Agnes’ amiibo card

amiibo cards can be used multiple times and clearly they both do not know this

probably the only one out of the cast to actually use the 'ask blathers' feature

the owl is a very dutiful and knowledgeable curator. sebek believes he can learn much from him

only thing to complain about is how often blathers is asleep during the day. if blathers were a retainer he most certainly would not make the cut.

[fireflowersandblood]

Letters From Home - Preview

i promised a preview so. here it is. or maybe. a first chapter. maybe. i'm not promising anything.

Pairing: Tom Bennett x f!reader

WC: 800-ish words

TWs/Warnings: strong language, adult themes

Summary: Knitting for Victory has never been bigger and Tom gets a nice, cozy package from home.

“Hey, look at this, lads!”

Tom’s head snaps up. Immediately, his lips curl into a smirk. One of the men has jumped up on a box of supplies, holding a paper in his left hand. With his right, he’s trying to ward off the poor sod who has just lost his picture. Tom can’t see what it is with all the waving about, but he’s almost entirely sure it’s a lady, maybe even a lady with very little clothing. Little else gets the men this worked up.

“Bennett, for you.”

Before he can react, a paper wrapped package has been placed in his lap. It looks almost like a wrapped Christmas gift, with the string that ties it together, and is no bigger than the Encyclopedias that Lois collected when she was younger. 

“What’s this?” Tom glances down at the package and frowns at the handwriting. It’s nothing he recognizes and he can’t think of anyone who would want to send him something. Maybe his dad, but even that seems unlikely. 

“Red Cross”, his superior explains. “Knitted socks and the like. You’re not the only one.”

Tom gives an appreciative hum and glances back down on the box. The handwriting is neat, neater than anything he could manage, and spells out his full name. To his own surprise, he runs his fingers across the letters, before he takes care to open it.

The box is filled to the brim. He finds not one, but two, pairs of navy blue socks. A matching pullover and hat, as well as a small box of hard candies in all sorts of colors. It feels strange to hold something so normal in his hands, and it reminds him of when he was smaller. His mother used to have them, he remembers, in a small tin box by the radio. She’d always give him and Lois one each, and let them pick between the fruit shaped ones.

“You got socks”, someone next to him complains, and the sigh is nothing if not envious. It makes Tom feel just a tad superior, and he immediately kicks his boots off, tears the old socks from his feet, and pulls the new pair on with a self-satisfied grin. 

“I did”, he boasts. It’s all in good fun; now that the first few months have passed, there’s not as much fighting. Everyone has seen battle one too many times to spend any time asking for trouble, even Tom. “And they’re cozy.”

Everyone close enough to have heard laughs, and Tom takes the opportunity to make sure he hasn’t missed anything. He would hate to leave another tin of candies for the rats. 

Tucked away in a corner of the box, he finds a letter. Again, with a handwriting he doesn’t recognize. Not the same as on the wrapper around the box, but something a little smaller and cleaner. He tears the envelope and is met by a sweet, light scent. It takes a moment too long to realize it must be perfume. It reminds him of the one Lois wears, and the thought makes his nose scrunch up. To take his mind off the rather unpleasant thought, he unfolds the letter.

Dear soldier,

When I’m writing this, I have no idea who you are. I might never know who you are. You, however, will know a little something about me when you’ve read this letter.

I’m the person who has made you the socks and the sweater. I hope you’ll find them useful and warm. The rationing has made it difficult to get a hold of yarn and I decided to unwind an old sweater of my father’s. I know he would much rather it be used by you.

I know our Navy must need as much as our Army, but if you have no use for two pairs of socks, perhaps you can give the second pair to a friend. I know the endless walking that the Army does tears the garments rather quickly, but two pairs might have been too much. I couldn’t help myself, when they said that the packages will be delivered to people who rarely, if ever, receive mail. I wanted you to know that there are people who think of you back home. 

The candies are made in London and remind me of my childhood. I hope it brings back pleasant memories for you, as well. 

I don’t know if people actually spray their letters with perfume, but I read it in a book once, and I thought it might lift your spirits. Pass it along and let the boys sniff it like a pair of used knickers, for all I care. 

Write, if it would please you. I would love to hear if the clothes have come to use, and make sure that you’re safe. I will pray for your safe return and a quick end to the war. 

Most love.

Tom flips the letter to find a name and an address.

“Mate, you got paper and a pen?”

[sam-glade]

Find the Words Tag

Tagged by @captain-kraken here and @amewinterswriting here. Thank you both💜

I'll pass it gently onto: @gummybugg @e-lisard @scribe-of-stories @liv-is. Your words are: word, write, walk, way.

Let's go with Gifts of Fate:

From @captain-kraken: faint, lonely, grow, and memory.

FAINT

He looked down at his hands as Nikols’s account drew to a close. A faint draft from the open window rustled the white lace curtains and caressed his cheeks. His leg was fine now — it tingled a little when he put his weight on it, but he was going to walk it off within a day. That meant he was going to be back on field duty in a day.

LONELY

“Sir, I have no way to pay you back. I can’t—” “Nonsense! I’m a Crystal, lad. I can’t accept payment for helping someone. I’m also a lonely old man who longs for some company and desperately needs help around the house.”

GROW

Soon enough movement appeared in the fallow fields and on the forest floor. As Catnip released her powers, animals gathered around her — two foxes, a handful of hares, various rodents, and little birds. Ianim watched, fascinated like a child, and Gullin didn’t fault him for that. Catnip and her ever-growing menagerie were a wonder.

MEMORY

“Hey,” Gullin’s voice was quiet and tense. Was he afraid of him, too? “I wanted to check if there’s anything you need.” “To have my Sword back and be out of here,” Lissan shot back before he could bite his tongue. “You know I can’t do that.” Orders can be disobeyed, a memory of Ianim’s light, hopeful tone came and went.

~*~

From @amewinterswriting: sweet, treat, beat and neat

SWEET

The cakes were delicious, so much finer than the ones offered at the winter fairs back in Aritia, and much, much sweeter, but not as aromatic. Ianim noticed Lissan’s confusion, and quickly explained that they were sweetened with beet sugar, not honey. Lissan gulped at how offhandedly he’d said it.

TREAT

The onslaught of garden variety Dark Ones was becoming tedious, and the two Swords treated them as barely more than target practice. While Nikols’s and Gullin’s eyes were on the ruptures, Varré looked around for more insidious threats.

BEAT

The creature was restless, jittery, ready to pounce. There were no human emotions left in it, only primal instincts balanced against the desire to serve. A dog that beat itself into submission.

NEAT

He skimmed through the correspondence, left on the desk by his adjutant in his absence. He was going to read it properly later, but it sufficed to take his mind off of things. He paused with a slip of paper — a page neatly torn out of a pocket notebook — folded in half. It wasn’t sealed, it didn’t even bear Gullin’s name. It simply read ‘meet at the Blue Boar tonight’ in the annoyingly perfect, annoyingly familiar hand.

[vierandancer]

Muse favorites; Preferences

Animal: She's somehow ended up very partial to cats, but also thinks Porxies are stupidly cute. Any extra small creature, really.

Flowers: No preference, all flowers generally smell good?

Scent: Sea Salt! Reminds her of home and the freedom of sailing

Coffee: She doesn't drink coffee unless someone hands it to her and she has no idea what's in it.

Tea: No preference, but Meiko fondly recalls explaining with A'kihiko to Alphinaud that Wadewick Tea was a whole lemon hardboiled in water, and the look of confusion/horror in the lad's face.

Drink: Meiko just said "somethin' purple someone gave me once" and that's all she knows.

Alcoholic Beverage: Meiko just tends to order the strongest stuff the bar tender will give her; she likes rum though.

Food: Fish skewers! And/or any bar food/beach food. Share the burger with her next time G'raha, we'll make sure Alisaie isn't around to steal.

Dessert: No preference, she'll eat any dessert; but coffee biscuits have a sweet memory associated with Ryne and Gaia.

Article of Clothing: Her Thavnairian dress she received upon being recruited into Troupe Falsiam.

Left or Right Handed? Originally right-handed, but after all her work as a dancer she's probably close to ambidexterous.

Sloppy or Neat Writing? Starts off neat, then she likely gets frustrated and it's sloppier towards the end; lots of mispellings.

Clean or Messy Home? Neat but discorganized; neat only because she doesn't stay in her apartment for too long.

Shower in Morning or Night? Doesn't matter, but most likely at night.

Tasks Done Early or Last Minute? Early, otherwise she'll be anxious reminding herself constantly not to forget; and if she doesn't, she probably will forget.

Love Language? Gift giving and acts of service

Believe in Love at First Sight? Nah that's lust as far as she's concerned; she could probably be convinced otherwise, but she's leery.

TAGGED BY: @hyaciiintho (thank you!)

TAGGING: @aethericsea (any blog you want!) @symphcnii @inkbloodcd @crystalmarred @ichoric @kintsugiscars @lcstkey

[janeelyakiri]

Oh! What deities would the outcode lads like your nightmare, dream, esc be? :o

Starling and Dove I feel are pretty self explanatory! They're already deities of Negative and Positive emotions respectively. Decoy and Ducky too. Buuuut if they went full on like the boys

Starling- Negative emotions. Offer sour based apples to gain blessings that sooth pains of loss. He is there to help with the hard times that require processing.

Dove- Positive emotions. Offer sweet based apples to gain blessings for joyful events. A wedding, a new baby, first love... Happy moments you want to remember.

Gull- Trickster minor deity. He likes fun toys and gadgets, gift him shiny knives and gag gifts with a person's name on them. He will prank them for a whole day.

Pigeon/Dire- a minor dual deity, the later is weaker and rarely shows. Pigeon is one of the mute, the injured souls who cannot speak or won't. He offers them safety. Likes offerings of masks. Dire offers chaos, and sometimes possesses people who gift Pigeon pastas.

Decoy- Creation, the Muses, art and life. He loves wooden carvings and paints, and offers motivation to help through tough projects.

Ducky- Destruction, but in the sense of rebuilding. To tear down the old and rotten to build and grow new. Offer deadnames to be erased from your past, photos of exes for the pain to vanish, such like that. A certain spicy rare chocolate is his favorite and brings him face to face with you.

Shrike- A new one, still learning his place. For now he protects the two major deities Starling and Dove. He carries a sense of war though, of a soldier.

Dalmatian- Also far too new, and works beside his brother. Cautious and careful, of strategy.

And for fun

Polly- Deity of healing. Recovering from illness and injury. One of the best ones out there apparently, and accepts just about anything from shiny things to erotica books to neat sticks. Loves strawberries the most though.

[wishingstarinajar]

Have you ever thought of how one of your skelebois might react to being offered a flower? Not even in a romantic gesture? Just handed any old flower just because the person offering thought it looked pretty or thought it reminded them of one of your skeleton lads?

I haven't, no. I guess I'm not used to getting/offering flowers so it never crossed my mind x'D

The reactions would be a mixed bag if I were to include all my skelesons. Here we go!

Some would be really thrilled, like Big B, Razzle, Cyperus and Ghost (if he could get some, that is). Sedge would be thrilled too but he won't show that, baka.

Some would be happy for the sweet gesture, like Rook, Birch, Vienna, Sangria, Haze, Dullahan, Shard, Boss, Case, Silk, Zephyr and Rewind, and also (gladly) accept the flower.

Some would be "oh, a gift!", like Indi, Scam, Faux, Orange, Fennek, Monoceros, Fang, Stray and Slasher, because gifts are neat and that's most probably the only reason for their positive reaction.

Some would accept it with a smile but honestly don't really care, like King, Oneiros, Monarch and Vigil.

Some would be confused as to why the heck you're giving them a flower, like Ephialtes, Fault, Rum and Bad Dog. The last two would scoff at it too.

And Slate would lock up and give the flower deadly looks while *trying* to politely decline (emphasis on trying!).

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@sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo

Prompt: Favorite Food Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier Rating: G Content Warnings: None Summary: Jaskier gets Geralt a gift, and it makes Geralt realize he doesn't know enough about what Jaskier likes. He forms a plan to figure it out. ao3

The small cheesecloth package that was dropped in front of him wasn’t necessarily a surprise, but the way that Jaskier hovered as Geralt picked it up was.

“What’s this?” he grunted, sniffing the air subtly. The little package smelled like honey and flour and cream, and the thick, sweet smell of-- “Are those dates?” He pulled the cheesecloth off to reveal a neat little tart, gently browned on the edges, about the size of his palm.

“It is!” Jaskier leaned over him slightly, his arms holding several more packages. He continued, sounding a little nervous. “I know you don’t usually enjoy sweets, but I know the dates are your favorite. Must feed that witcher metabolism, no?”

“No,” Geralt eyed the tart. “Our metabolism is more efficient, not faster.”

“Oh,” Jaskier said, deflating slightly. “Well, if you don’t want it I guess I can--”

“How did you know that date was my favorite?” Geralt interrupted, looking back up at Jaskier. Oddly, he could see the bard color slightly at the question, an appealing pink spreading across his cheekbones.

“You bought a jar of jam from that merchant from Toussaint, remember? You never buy jam, unless it’s for me, so I assumed you must have a preference for it. I mean, unless you don’t, which is fine, I can… Well, not eat it, I hate dates, but I’m sure I can find some mangy child to give it to, or a dog, or something. Do you hate it? You hate it.”

Geralt picked up the tart and bit into it, giving Jaskier a raised eyebrow. It was honestly more of a miniature pie than a tart, the flaky crust filled with dates and prunes covered in a custardy filling, sweetened through with honey. The flavors burst across his tongue, the tart still warm. Jaskier must have picked it up at the market and come directly here to give it to him. Geralt swallowed the first bite, looking into Jaskier’s apprehensive face, and said, “Thanks.”

Jaskier visibly relaxed, shuffling onto the bench across from Geralt and beginning to relay the events of the morning market. Geralt hummed where he was meant to and sipped his watered down ale and ate his tart. If Jaskier noticed his absent mindedness, he said nothing.

Jaskier… knew what his favorite fruit was. The knowledge should not have come as a shock, Geralt knew. Jaskier was often getting him gifts - oil for Roach’s tack, new clothes when Geralt’s last threadbare shirt gave out, potion ingredients when he ran low. Sometimes he bought Geralt useless things, little bobbles or trinkets he saw that he thought Geralt might like or find amusing, and Geralt kept them safely at the bottom of his bag, or in his room at Kaer Morhen. He cherished those things, things that told him Jaskier thought about him when he wasn’t near. It was nice, to be thought of.

But for some reason this little gift felt different. Jaskier had known his favorite food, and Geralt had never told him. Dates weren’t particularly common in the North, and it was rare that they were far south enough to meet merchants who carried them up from Nilfgaard. Geralt could remember when he’d bought the jam, hoping it would last him a while, but he couldn’t recall a single other time in recent memory that he’d eaten dates, or even mentioned them. He didn’t tend to wallow on things that were unavailable to him.

His eyes lingered on Jaskier as he spun a tale about haggling in the square. No, Geralt didn’t make a habit of wishing for what he couldn’t have.

Still, there was a problem at hand, one he had to solve. Jaskier knew Geralt’s favorite food. He might know Geralt’s favorite everything. Did he know that Geralt’s favorite color was blue, the wide, free color of the sky on the first day of spring? Did he know that Geralt’s favorite thing to drink wasn’t wine or vodka, but warm honeyed milk like his mother made when he couldn’t sleep as a tiny child? He certainly knew that Geralt liked the scent of chamomile and sage best in his bathwater, and that he preferred cotton shirts over linen, and that he would pick a song with a sad ending over a happy one. If he’d been paying this much attention, there was probably quite a lot that Jaskier knew about him, without Geralt having said a word.

And he didn’t know a thing about Jaskier.

What was Jaskier’s favorite color? Was it blue, like the doublets he so often wore, or was that just to match his eyes? Did he really like wine the best, or did he just like it better than ale? What was his favorite season? His favorite weather? Did he go to Oxenfurt every winter because it was where he could find work, or did he prefer Novigrad, or Vizima? Geralt could tell how Jaskier was going to react every time someone recognized him on the street, anytime a young lad or lass winked at him, even what he might say if Geralt gave the right sort of hum. But he didn’t know much about him, at the end of the day.

He needed to find out. As they packed up their belongings and set out on the road once again, leaving the small town behind them, Geralt ruminated on what could be done to rectify this situation. He couldn’t very well just ask Jaskier about all these things. After all, Jaskier had figured it all out with nary a word from Geralt. He didn’t need to ask; he was paying attention. Which made Geralt’s chest feel oddly warm and heavy, knowing that Jaskier was watching him, paying heed to his reactions and filing them away. Maybe it should have felt invasive, to know that he was being read so easily without his knowing, but instead it just felt… nice. To be known.

He wanted Jaskier to feel known too. He wanted to know Jaskier.

He would start small. Jaskier had given him food, something he knew Geralt would like. It couldn’t be that difficult to figure out what Jaskier liked. Geralt could start bringing him small things, pass it off as returning the favor, and guage Jaskier’s reaction. It would be simple, he mused, eying Jaskier from atop Roach as they walked side by side. His hair was mussed slightly from sleep, still, and he hadn’t bothered to fix it before heading out for the day. No one to impress, Geralt guessed, just the two of them and the road. He liked Jaskier this way, less pinned up and proper, more open. Letting Geralt see him without all of his armor, because that’s what it was, as surely as the leather on Geralt’s back was his. Right now, Jaskier was an open book. All Geralt had to do was pay enough attention to read him.

*

It was not easy to figure out what Jaskier liked.

The problem, Geralt quickly found, was that Jaskier was enthusiastic about almost everything. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. When he disliked something, he made his distaste abundantly clear. He was dramatic, which should have made it even easier to determine what delighted him the most. Geralt expected that, when he found it, poetic stanzas would be flowing like wine from Jaskier’s tongue, praising whatever it was. He had no reason to expect Jaskier to be subtle about his preferences.

And he wasn’t. The issue was that he seemed to react with the exact same level of excitement about everything Geralt brought him. On the first day they arrived in a new town, Geralt went to the market and brought Jaskier a small basket of strawberries, which Jaskier enthused over for half the morning. Geralt was pleased. Maybe it had been that easy, and he’d intuitively known what Jaskier liked. Maybe he had unconsciously been paying attention all along. He congratulated himself on figuring out at least one piece of the puzzle, and began thinking about how he might approach the next step.

But then he unthinkingly bought Jaskier a few sweetbreads when he was out the next day getting lunch. He’d been getting himself some, he thought of Jaskier sitting in their shared room, composing a ballad about the hunt Geralt had been on the night previously. He’d brought him the extra meats, and Jaskier had nearly the same reaction. Gushing over the gift, thanking Geralt for thinking of him. Lamenting his own forgetfulness, for getting so caught up in his work that he would forget to eat, as Geralt expected he might have. And Geralt was confused, because he didn’t think a few offal from a market stall in a half pint city in Velen was what Jaskier would like. Certainly not something he could call a favorite.

But he’d reacted the same to the sweetbreads as the berries. So Geralt was back to square one.

He reevaluated his metrics. So Jaskier reacted that way to anything he liked, apparently. It was odd; Geralt had seen Jaskier enthusiastically dig into a wide variety of foods over the years, but he didn’t praise them and rave about them the way he had done the berries and the meats. So he must have legitimately enjoyed both of them more than he would any old dish. But neither of them had seemed to outweigh the other. He still didn’t know what Jaskier liked best.

Over the next several weeks of their travel, Geralt bought Jaskier enough tortas and crepes and stews that he knew it was boarding on suspicious behavior. If it was any other situation, any other two people, he knew it might come off like courtship. Every time he offered Jaskier some new morsel, he could feel the back of his neck grow hot at the implications. But Jaskier only ever grinned in delight at whatever Geralt offered him, flushed and pleased no more or less than he had been at all the others. If he suspected any sort of foul play, he never said anything.

It was infuriating. After three weeks of spending more coin that he cared to count at markets and roadside stalls and taverns, he was no closer to figuring out Jaskier’s favorite food than he had been at the outset. It all seemed to go over well, which was gratifying, but he couldn’t tell what Jaskier liked the most of it all. Maybe he just wasn’t as good at reading Jaskier as he thought. He’d thought he was a master of it, at this point - he could tell when Jaskier was tired during a performance, even though his smile never flagged; he could tell when Jaskier was being dramatic about an injury and when he was actually in pain; he could tell the difference between righteous anger versus petty versus hurt. In most respects he felt like Jaskier was an open book, but there was nothing in his reactions to Geralt’s gifts that said he was anything less than entirely pleased to receive them.

He was running out of ideas. Giving Jaskier gifts one at a time was clearly not working; either none of them were right, or Geralt was misremembering Jaskier’s enthusiasm for the ones in the past. He needed to give Jaskier a selection and see for himself what was best, side by side.

It took another week to plan, mostly due to location. They needed to stay in one place for a few days, so that Geralt could collect the things he would need, and it was rare that the two of them were in one town for more than a day. Large contracts were few and far between, and it never took Geralt more than a single night to clear out some ghouls or drowners from an area.

As luck would have it, however, they were only a few days out from Carreras. Geralt pointed them in that direction, claiming that they would likely be able to find multiple contracts in one place there, and that Jaskier could take a few days to play for their small selection of inns and taverns. It wasn’t entirely a lie; there probably would be more contracts posted in a larger settlement, which would mean a solid few jobs to refill Geralt’s pockets. He would need the extra coin to execute his plan.

The first two days of their stay were filled mostly with real work. The city had been having issues with contaminated water, which sent Geralt out to investigate all the wells, and by the time he found the drowner that had fallen into the water supply a full day had passed. He was able to fill another two contracts on their second day, but the triple confrontations over less than 48 hours left him feeling bruised and exhausted.

It was Jaskier who suggested it, in the end. Pulling a comb through Geralt’s hair as the witcher let himself soak in the bath, Jaskier said, “What if we stayed for an extra day or two? The crowds have been good, and Barclay - the innkeeper, I don’t know if you’ve spoken to him - he offered us a discount if I play tonight and tomorrow.” His hand fell to Geralt’s shoulder, warm and comforting. “You could… take a few days.”

It had been his plan to stay, but Geralt felt an ache behind his breastbone at Jaskier’s careful suggestion. Always trying to take care of him, as if Geralt were someone who needed protecting, someone who deserved something like a vacation. He didn’t think he did, but it was nice, as always, to think that Jaskier cared. “Hmm,” was all he said, a soft sound of agreement. His eyes slipped shut as he basked in the quiet content of Jaskier’s company, and they said nothing else on the matter.

The next day he felt rejuvenated, the burn of overexertion in his muscles faded after a hard night’s sleep. Jaskier had played after getting him out of the bath and settled into bed, but he’d returned later, smelling of sweat and rosemary and catgut. Geralt had slept well with his solid weight by his side, pressed into the too-slim bed.

He spent most of the day preparing. The market was busy and bursting when he found it in the afternoon, though not as packed as he was used to seeing in larger settlements like Novigrad. There was a bakery on the corner from which the rich scent of fresh bread spilled out into the square, and the people at the stalls were standing around amiably, chatting about local affairs and peddling their individual wares to one and other. It was a homey little trade network, and despite his strangeness, Geralt didn’t feel unwelcome.

He made several minor purchases before he found his way to the bakery. It wasn’t as crowded as he’d feared, and he waited until the one or two customers before him had made their way out. The woman working the counter was twig thin despite her occupation, thin blonde hair tied up away from her face and covered by a light cloth, probably to keep flour out of it. Her eyes were blue, pale as diamonds. Geralt couldn’t help but think that Jaskier’s were nicer.

He made her nervous, it was easy to see, but she quickly warmed to him when he told her what he was looking for. Whether it was his gold that excited her or his plan, he couldn’t say, but regardless she helped him pick out his desired items with enthusiasm.

“If you’re planning to use them later tonight, I can make up a basket and have it ready for you. So nothing goes cold,” she explained, her forearms resting on the counter. “The pies are really best that way.”

Geralt nodded, and handed over her coin.

Jaskier would be back soon from where he was playing the lunch crowd at one of the taverns. Geralt rushed back to their room and put the purchases he had with him at the bottom of his pack, a blanket spread over them. Jaskier returned not fifteen minutes later, flushed and grinning. A successful performance, then. Good. When Jaskier was in a good mood he was more amenable to doing what Geralt said. “When do you play this evening?” Geralt asked, not looking up from where he was cleaning his sword at the small table they’d been provided.

Jaskier set his lute case down gently against the wall and then flung off his doublet with much less care, flopping down on to the bed. Geralt forced himself to keep his eyes on his work, though the image that awaited him - Jaskier, spread out, his shirt falling open to reveal the smooth line of his throat and his sharp collar bones - burned against the back of his eyes anyways. “Not until nightfall,” Jaskier answered with a content sigh. “After the dinner crowd. Why? Do you have plans?”

“Do you remember where we stopped on the first day, the hill just before town? By the brook.” He set his steel sword aside and reached for the silver, which was the one that truly needed attention. So many contracts in a row had left her chipped in a few places, and dull all around. Geralt set his whetstone down, but didn’t draw it across the blade yet. Waiting for Jaskier’s answer. He felt his stomach twist with something like nerves, which was ridiculous. This wasn’t anything risky, anything that Jaskier would read into - probably. Probably.

“Sure,” Jaskier answered easily.

“Can you meet me there?” Geralt asked. “An hour or so before you have to play?”

He heard Jaskier sit up, could feel the bard looking at him curiously. His gaze warmed the side of Geralt’s face, and he refused to look up and meet those bright blue eyes. “Did something happen? Do we need to get out of town?”

Geralt rolled his eyes, amusement bubbling up within him. “No. Nothing bad. Just… meet me?”

Jaskier was silent for a long moment, long enough that Geralt gave up and turned to look at him. He was regarding Geralt with a curious expression, almost guarded. But all he said was, “Alright. I can do that.”

Geralt nodded, satisfied, and returned to his task.

*

He left before Jaskier, stating the need to drop by the herbalist's shop and that if he wasn’t back - as he didn’t intend to be - that Jaskier should go to the meeting place on his own. Geralt made his own way back to the bakery, where his basket of goods was waiting as promised. He tipped the girl well, and set out with his pack containing the blanket and other purchases on his shoulder, and the basket on his arm.

It was a nice evening, warm and thick with the last hints of summer. It would be fall soon; he could taste it in the faint hint of decay that lingered on his tongue whenever he took a deep breath of the air beyond the city. But for now it was still hot enough during the day that the evenings were comfortable. Geralt found his way back along the road to where they’d stopped to water Roach at the nearby stream, just before the landscape dropped down into the shallow valley that held the large town. He made his way off the path, far enough away that they wouldn’t be obvious from the road, to a raised patch of earth that looked down over the fields as they spread out below. It was a lovely sight, the landscape rich in the evening light, the dying sun casting the rooftops of the city in rich gold. Jaskier would appreciate the scenery, at least.

Geralt quickly set up, laying out the blanket and pulling out the supplies from the basket. He’d maybe gone slightly overboard. There was a meat pie, several stuffed rolls, a hearty cabbage stew in two small bowls kept covered by plates tied to them; a loaf of fresh rye bread, with cheese and jam and honey to go with it; berries and apples with cream; a plethora of desserts, including an entire apple pie, along with little marzipan candies and several little cakes. Two bottles of wine, one white, one red. As he laid out item after item, Geralt felt unease stir within him. It was too much, he realized, seeing it all together. That had been his goal, after all, to see Jaskier eat as many things as possible, to get a sense, at least, of where his preferences lay. But this was overwhelming. Jaskier would realize something was amiss. A picnic, laid out in perfect detail, in the warm light of the evening, fields spread out beyond them and the forest to their back. It was obviously, sickeningly romantic, he realized. So very obviously beyond what one might do to spend an hour eating dinner with a friend. Panic rose in his throat, choking him, and he grabbed one of the wine bottles, thinking to put it away. If he could put some of it back, maybe it wouldn’t look so much like--

“Geralt?”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, fighting the desire to curse, and turned around. He hoped none of his apprehension showed on his face.

Jaskier was a few feet away, carrying nothing but his lute on his back. He was looking down at the spread with a shocked expression, eyebrows pulled up nearly into his hairline and eyes open wide. “What’s… all this?” he asked, his gaze flickering back up to meet Geralt’s.

“Dinner,” Geralt grunted, putting the wine bottle down. In for a penny, he thought grimly.

He watched several different expressions flicker across Jaskier’s face, too quick to parse. For a moment Geralt thought he looked almost… sad, or maybe anxious, but then he broke into a wide grin. The honest delight pouring off of him made Geralt let out a slight sigh, relief blooming in his chest. “Oh, well isn’t this just wondrous,” Jaskier laughed. He pulled his lute from his shoulder and set it in the grass beside the blanket, and folded himself down amongst Geralt’s offerings. A hand reached up towards him. “Are you going to join me?” Jaskier asked, raising a playful eyebrow. Geralt grumbled, but carefully sat down next to the bard and began dishing out the food.

It was good, all of it, but Geralt hardly paid it any mind, focused entirely on Jaskier’s reactions. The constant flow of conversation was interrupted every time Jaskier took a bite of something new - “This is delicious, have you tried this yet?” and “We must find out what spices they used for this stew, it’s absolutely the best I’ve had in months” and “Geralt, where did you find marzipan? Look at these little things, the details are impressive.” Throughout it all, Geralt watched his face, listened to his words, paid attention to what he returned to and what he didn’t.

And by the end, he was ready to tear his hair out.

Jaskier seemed to enjoy everything. He finished every helping he took, praised every dish, thanked Geralt for each and every selection he’d made. Even with so many choices, it didn’t seem to matter. Jaskier liked them all, but Geralt couldn’t tell what he liked the best. Not the way Jaskier apparently could do for him.

Finally Jaskier flopped back into the grass, one hand on his stomach. “I don’t think I’ve been so full in years,” he groaned, staring up at the sky with heavy eyelids. “Probably since the last banquet I played at. You really outdid yourself, my dear.”

Fuck it. He had to ask. “Anything you liked in particular?”

Jaskier hummed, closing his eyes. “Mm, how could I choose? Everything was so lovely.”

Frustration clawed at him. Before he could stop himself, Geralt heard himself ask, “Do you even have a favorite food?”

Immediately he clamped his mouth shut, jaw clenched hard. He hadn’t meant to ask that. He wasn’t supposed to, he was supposed to--

“Oh, I don’t know if I have a favorite favorite,” Jaskier droned, blinking his eyes open to peer up at the sky again, this time with a thoughtful expression on his face. “There’s just such a range, you know. I suppose when it comes to desserts, there’s these custards that they make in Toussaint, have you had them? Tiny things, very sweet, with saffron and cinnamon. Delicious. We’ll have to get some next we go so far south.”

Geralt was hardly listening, even though he knew that had been the entire point. He’d failed. Jaskier had told him the answer to his question, which meant he was never going to have the chance to prove that he could learn Jaskier as Jaskier had learned him. He couldn’t prove his friendship, his affection, through his actions. Jaskier would never be interested in Geralt the way that Geralt was in him, but he’d hoped he could at least let some of his true feelings bleed into his actions, into the careful way he paid attention. Jaskier had already done so as nothing more than Geralt’s friend. Now he would never be able to pay him back in kind, not truly.

Jaskier turned his head to look at him, brow furrowed curiously. He must have been silent for too long. Geralt quickly schooled his features into neutrality, but some of his distress must have peaked through, because Jaskier frowned at him. Geralt could feel the incoming conversation before Jaskier even opened his mouth. He tried to get ahead of it, talking over the beginning of Jaskier’s soft inquiry. “We should head back,” he grunted, rising abruptly to his feet. “You have to play.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier said, in a tone that made Geralt’s stomach fill with dread. That was Jaskier’s no nonsense, absolutely-you-will-not-be-getting-out-of-this tone. He turned back towards Jaskier, his shoulders slumping in defeat. The bard had clamoured to his feet when Geralt stood up, and was now stepping around the blanket towards him. Geralt wanted to retreat further, to shove the remains of the picnic back in his bag and hide the evidence, but he knew it wouldn’t save him. He was being too obvious, and Jaskier knew him too well.

The bard eyed him suspiciously, but there was a note of concern in the way his brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?” Jaskier asked, this time a bit softer. “I thought we were having a lovely time.”

“We… It was. It was nice. I just think it’s time to go.” Jaskier gave him a shrewd look. Not buying it then. Geralt sighed. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s not you.”

“I certainly hope not,” Jaskier chuckled. The sound was thin, like that was exactly what he had been worried about. “You’ve been acting strange for weeks. I wondered if-- Well. But if it’s not about me, it’s something else? Are you trying to butter me up for something? Is there a big scary adventure you’re about to tell me I’m not allowed to come on?” His gaze turned sharp again, but this time there was something like fear underneath it. “Are you leaving me behind?”

“No,” Geralt said quickly, his hands rising in a placating manner. “I’m not leaving you, Jaskier, I swear it. It’s just…” He petered off, unsure how to continue. How to explain.

“It’s just what?” Jaskier demanded. “Why have you been so damnably nice to me lately? Are you dying?” His eyes widened. “Am I dying?”

“No, Jaskier, of course not, just--”

“Then why the gifts?” Jaskier spread his hands around their little picnic, an easy example of exactly what he was talking about.

Geralt’s resistance shattered. “I was trying to figure you out,” he snapped. “I don’t know you, not like you know me. You know everything about me. You pay attention, even when I don’t say anything. You knew I liked dates because I bought jam months ago. You know me better than anyone, but I don’t know you. I don’t know what your favorite food is, or your favorite color, or what you like to wear, or what your favorite kinds of songs are, or your favorite season. I’ve been looking. I tried to figure it out, I tried to bring things I thought you would like and see what you liked best, but it seems like you like everything. You don’t always… say what you mean. I can’t tell when you’re faking and when you’re not.” Geralt was tense, fists clenched at his sides, jaw hard. He knew he looked angry. Jaskier probably thought he was mad at him, for some reason, but all Geralt felt was fear. He wasn’t good enough. Jaskier had to see that now. Geralt had known him for years, and he couldn’t even say whether Jaskier preferred blueberry jam to strawberry. What kind of friend was he?

A hand took his, gently pulling his fingers apart. He jerked his head over to stare as Jaskier stepped forward to slip their fingers together, squeezing softly. When he looked up, Jaskier was regarding him fondly.

“My favorite color is yellow,” he said. “I wear the silk doublets a lot, because they’re in fashion, but I prefer a linen shirt because it’s not as sweaty. I like songs about adventure, but books about romance.” His other hand lifted to brush a bit of hair away from where it was stuck to Geralt’s warm cheek. His expression was difficult to look at, earnest and painfully affectionate. Geralt was trapped by those blue eyes, like falling into a clear sky. “And my favorite season is spring. You could have just asked.”

Geralt swallowed. “You never had to. I just didn’t want you to… I don’t want you to think that I don’t pay attention.”

“Oh,” Jaskier said, laughing a little, “I know you’re not always paying attention. I’m talking constantly. There’s a lot to keep up with. I know you tune me out most of the time, it’s fine.”

“I’m still paying attention to you,” Geralt insisted, because it was important, critical that Jaskier know that even when he wasn’t listening, he was still attuned to Jaskier. His presence, his voice, the sound of his heartbeat always in the back of Geralt’s mind. Whenever the bard was around he could scarcely focus on anything else.

“Knowing my favorite color or food or what have you isn’t what proves that you’re my friend,” Jaskier said, still smiling. “You know me. It’s alright.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me if you didn’t like the things I brought you?” Geralt asked, feeling unmoored. “You acted like you loved everything.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, but his chuckle was nervous. The hand he held in Geralt’s was sweaty, and his heartbeat, always in Geralt’s ears, was a bit fast. “Well, they were from you,” he said with a half shrug. “Of course I loved them.”

“But they weren’t--”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jaskier interrupted, soft but firm. There was a slight, bitter twist in his lips that Geralt wanted to wipe away. “I just… like to know that you’re thinking of me.”

They were standing so close together. Jaskier’s hand was in his, palm to sweaty palm. They were nearly of a height, but Jaskier was just the tiniest bit shorter, so he had to tilt his chin up ever so slightly to meet Geralt’s eyes. Now it was Jaskier who was tense, his shoulders squared as if to absorb a blow. He nervously dragged his teeth over his lower lip, leaving the hint of an impression in the soft flesh. Geralt watched raptly, swallowing against the urge to soothe the spot with his tongue. “I’m always thinking of you,” he finally said.

Jaskier took a shuddering breath, and Geralt watched as his eyes dropped down to flicker over Geralt’s mouth before they dragged back up to meet his gaze again. “When I saw all of it spread out like that, I thought maybe it meant something,” he said, nearly a whisper.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, helplessly. He lifted the hand not clutched in Jaskier’s toward his neck, tracing his fingers along the delicate line of Jaskier’s throat. Jaskier’s other hand came up to fist in Geralt’s shirt, inhaling sharply at his touch. It was an intoxicating sound, making his head spin more than the bottle of wine they’d consumed between them.

“Did it mean something more?” Jaskier pleaded, his eyes bright. His hand clutched at the fabric over Geralt’s heart, the fingers between his own tightening in a deathgrip. “Did it?”

“Yes,” Geralt said, and leaned forward to kiss him.

Jaskier gasped at the first press of their lips, opening for Geralt easily and without hesitation. He tasted like sweet white wine and meat pie and marzipan, and Geralt greedily mined the flavors from Jaskier’s tongue. He tried to pour all of the things he found himself unable to say into the press of his teeth against Jaskier’s lip, into the flick of his tongue against the roof of his mouth and the way his fingers tangled delicately in Jaskier’s hair. Jaskier gave as good as he got, humming encouragingly into Geralt’s mouth and hauling him closer by the hand in his shirt. He didn’t release Geralt’s hand from where he held it in his own, and Geralt made no move to extract himself.

Finally, Jaskier pulled back, panting against Geralt’s lips as he set their foreheads together. His eyes were closed, and Geralt watched them flicker open, savoring the dazed expression on his face. “I think I’m going to be late to play that show,” Jaskier rasped, and a thrill went through Geralt at the sound. And indeed, the sun had begun to set, dipping over the edge of the mountains in the far, far distance, coloring the air around them in rich purples and reds. Jaskier’s face was soft and ethereal in the glow, and Geralt never wanted to let him go, never wanted to leave this moment.

“Why spring?” Geralt found himself asking.

Jaskier smiled, and his face softened even further. “Because it’s when I get to see you again, of course. You should have known all along; you’re my favorite.”

It was a corny sentiment, and by Jaskier’s grin he knew it, but Geralt couldn’t help the way it warmed him up from the inside out, radiating out from within him and making his lips pull into an answering grin. He leaned in and kissed Jaskier again, and again, and a third time, in quick succession, each more soft and lingering than the last. When he was finished Jaskier had that dazed looking expression back on his face, and Geralt decided it was a good look on him. “Want to know something?” he asked, teasing. Jaskier nodded, the hand on Geralt’s chest snaking up to wrap around his neck, holding the both of them close. Geralt leaned in to press his lips just behind Jaskier’s ear, to press his secret against the soft skin there.

“You’re my favorite too,” he rumbled, and Jaskier laughed, bright and joyful, and both of them knew that it was true.

~

This is my last s&s fic!! So excited to be done with the challenge, and happy that I was able to finish! Thank you to all those who encouraged me over the last two months, your kind words and support mean more than I could say <3

tag list: @llamasdumpsterfire, @theamazingbard

[mercurial-madhouse]

I’ve been on a very long writing break, but a beautiful anony asked for more information about my upcoming post-apocalyptic abo fic When the Dust Settles. Based off an incredible prompt that @theisolatedlily gifted me, I dabbled into abo and posted a short fic, then loved the concept as much as everyone else seemed to, so I decided to turn it into a full fic.

What a sweet ask, Anony. To answer your questions: yes I do in fact have the entire fic completely plotted out, so I have a very good idea of the general plot. And yes, I do have a very unedited snippet that I can share with you. How can I say no? I’ve even created some art to go with the snip and made it longer than what I’d usually give as a snippet. I hope you enjoy!

Also, @allwaswell16 gifted the ficlet with the most incredible needlepoint art based on a very important symbol in the fic! Please go rave at her amazingness!

🌀

The sight that greets Harry when he steps into his own room is so overwhelming that he grips the mug of freshly-brewed tea with his palm until the searing heat sinks into his brain. Blinking out of the intoxicating residual scent of sandalwood and snapdragon hanging in the air, he forces himself to take a deep breath through his mouth. With his heart swelling too large for its space in his chest and thumping like he’s just finished running a marathon yet all the blood in his body is slip slip sliding straight down where he absolutely can’t have it go is leaving him rather light-headed, so the instinctual act of breathing is suddenly not so instinctual.

Only Louis would be able to manage such a feat without even being awake.

Swallowing over the mess of emotions locking up in his throat, Harry carefully closes the door behind him, praying that the near-silent snick of the latch clicking into place won’t wake the newly-presented omega and his extra-sensitive hearing.

In his perch on Harry’s bed, Louis doesn’t stir. Lying mostly on his stomach, one arm is thrown over the edge of the bed, dangling so his fingers skim the ground. He’s got one leg flung towards the edge and Harry’s perfectly-made bed is now one pillow short of a complete mess.

Two steps past the threshold and what exactly Harry’s seeing hits him over the head with the same force as meeting Louis had three years ago. His lungs swell with exquisite pain and then freeze over in shock.

Louis’s made a nest.

It’s the messiest, most ridiculous and haphazard nest Harry’s ever seen (and he’s seen his fair share of omega nests through the years from Gemma), but it’s undoubtedly a nest. It’s so chaotic that Harry can’t tell if Louis even knows he’d done it.

They all make them, alpha and omega, but like alpha nests, no omega ever makes their nests quite the same every time. With Gemma, sometimes they’re tiny, sometimes they’ll take up her entire room, sometimes messy, sometimes neat. They’re special to the person making them and he’d almost begun to learn the secret language within each one that his sister’s made.

With the weight of all this acquired knowledge bearing down on his chest, Harry may need to find a needle to pop his heart so it’ll deflate and let him breathe again. This has never happened before.

Louis’s made a nest on his bed, out of his sheets. Wide, sloppy, and spilling over the sides as though the bed is too small for the lad splayed over it. Louis’s lying diagonally across the bed, closer to the bottom corner, half in and half out of his nest. The lumped up sheets are tucked down the center line of his torso like a body pillow, as though he couldn’t decide which side was safer to be on.

Harry eases over the carpet and crouches down at Louis’s side, in front of his nightstand. From this angle he can see only half of Louis’s face, squished as he is into Harry’s cream and lavender sheets. They’re rumpled in a way Harry never leaves his bed.

Louis’s cheeks are still flushed from his first heat which, according to Zayn and Liam, mercifully ended less than three hours ago, when they’d finally let him and Niall back into the house.

It’s been a week of utter hell for Harry. Now, the purgatory the last seven days have been fades into nothing, meaningless compared to the warm relief flushing his veins now that he’s back with Louis.

Where he’s always wanted to be.

“Hey.” That single pathetic word is hoarse and as strained as his heart feels, strung up between his lungs as it is.

Louis doesn’t stir.

He brushes the pads of his fingers over Louis’s down stretched arm and tries to ignore the flush of heat that greets his fingertips like a whisper kiss. Soft skin and a deceptively delicate wrist glide between Harry’s fingers as he slides his touch down to Louis’s dangling hand. Until a month ago when Louis presented, this hand had wielded a knife with such deadly skill and accuracy. He squeezes gently, voice tight. “Lou?”

A twitch, then hazy eyes, well, one eye, peeks open. Louis tenses.

Harry knows better than to move as Louis finds his wakeful bearings. It may be his room, but he’s dangerously close to Louis’s nest without permission to be here yet. No wonder the other three have steered wildly clear of Harry’s room.

Half-hidden behind messy strands, that blue eye clears, blinks, then focuses on him. It closes as Louis grunts softly, sinking back into the sheets.

It looks like relief, feels like relief. Harry quirks a smile that’s easily held aloft on the swallow-wings of fluttering hope.

“Brought you a cuppa.”

Louis grunts again, but despite the gruffness, his eye opens once more, curiously this time. Harry holds the mug up to eye-level, complete with a little eyebrow wiggle and teasing shake of his wrist.

Not that he needs to make Louis’s favorite thing in the world look tempting to Louis.

Louis lifts his head and huffs a breath upwards to get the hair out of his eyes. The strands are still clinging to his skin, so it doesn’t quite work. He pulls the hand Harry’s touched away and flicks his fringe back.

The loss of contact feels like a claw digging into Harry’s diaphragm. He ignores it.

“How’re you feeling?”

Louis’s tongue darts over his bottom lip. He croaks out something like it’s a secret half-buried in the sand. Harry is too busy being completely engulfed in the undertow of the slow, smooth action of Louis’s tongue that he nearly misses Louis’s answer. The sound hits him first.

His voice weaves around Harry like an unfinished scarf, smooth and deep from sleep, but still raw and frayed at the edges from exhaustion. It dispels any remaining autumn chill seeping through the cracks of Harry’s room as surely as the lingering fever-light of Louis’s body does. His plush sheets, curving over Louis’s hip like a song in slow motion, now seem threadbare in comparison to the lush in that voice.

In that single moment every ounce of tension evaporates from Harry, slipping so quickly and so fervently down his spine that he nearly sags forward boneless with relief face-first into the side of his bed.

He’s home.

What Louis actually said slides in silky starlight through the fog of his consciousness three seconds too late.

Empty.

Louis rolls onto his back with a low groan before Harry has a chance to process the flooded mix of emotions washing that single word stained-glass scarlet.

Louis props himself up on one elbow, scrubbing his free hand over his face and the shadow beginning to whisper along his jawline. His features are still drawn, wan from the energy he’s given to his omega this past week with very little chance to replenish himself. The wrinkled sheets have left lightning marks over Louis’s cheek and the loose black tank he wears is sticky with sweat, clinging to his frame.

Going through a heat alone and without the safety of biological family nearby to help takes a toll on any omega. Going through a first heat too? And Louis isn’t just any omega, he’s—

Harry tamps down the scorpion of fury that skitters black-legged through his veins, gutting his arteries open around its bulbous body. It tangles and pries down his limbs, plunging its venomous tail into his muscles until he wants to lash out and fling the crawling poison away.

A low growl flickers at the base of his lungs.

He should have been here with Louis.

Horrified at the red cloud that descends over his vision, he clenches the steaming mug. His creaking knuckles and the searing heat singeing his skin collapse the monstrous cage of his body down over his bonfire heart until all that remains is a helpless heap of bones covered in cold, ash-dusted logic.

He would never go against Louis’s choice. He wasn’t here because Louis didn’t want him here, not because he didn’t want to be here.

The simmering flame choking his lungs dissipates. He lifts his hand away from the mug. His palm is enflamed, blood bursting just beneath the surface of his skin in some mild degree of burn.

He hadn’t felt the pain.

What is happening to him?

And now, as though the tangle of his own push-pull of desire and respect for Louis aren’t confusing enough, he doesn’t know what propriety says he should do.

You don’t walk uninvited into the space an omega has chosen to nest in for safety, but… it’s his room.

They didn’t teach any of this in school. In Westminster an unmated, unrelated omega that would dare to take over an alpha’s personal space and claim it for their nest doesn’t exist.

The bile rises in Harry’s throat. If any do exist, he doubts the reaction from Westminster alphas is positive. The first chance to get his mum and sister to safety in Southbank, he took it, and he’s been at Louis’ side helping him smuggle omegas to safety and a better life ever since.

So no, they certainly didn’t teach any of this in school. Even his mum, from whom he’d learned real respect, probably has never seen this before.

Who has? Louis’s a male omega. Whatever any of them had learned seems pointless and irrelevant when it comes to Louis. Is this an omega thing? A Louis thing? A Louis’s omega thing?

None of them have any answers.

And now Harry’s officially blown his own mind again as the same realization the day Louis presented smacks him in the face one more time. Dazed, he squats like an awkward turtle with its head half out of its shell, holding the mug like a sacrificial offering, elbows on his knees.

Louis’s eyes close, head falling back on his shoulders as he takes a long, slow, deep breath. The tension Harry hadn’t realized was quenched into Louis’s body melts away so quickly that for a second Harry worries Louis will sink right back down and become one with Harry’s bed.

Not the best thought to be having right now. He’s barely treading the Caribbean waters of his desire and Louis’s in his bed.

He’s losing his mind. He’s cracking faster than the black varnish chipping his nails.

“Reckon I’ll never get over how fucking perfect that smell is,” Louis admits. After a beat of hesitation, no longer than a comma in a sentence that still sends Harry’s whole world spiraling, Louis reaches towards him for the mug.

It’s all the permission Harry needs.

🌀 

Tagging a bunch of lovely souls who have expressed interest in this particular fic and/or in sharing writing and/or we toss snippet tags back and forth and/or I’m sending out a writing share tag for the first time (if I’m allowed to tag you)! Of course, I’ve love to see what everyone is working on, so take this as a tag for that if you’d like!

@littleprincepleasdontgo​ | @lululawrence​ | @zannithinks​ | @loulovehome​ | @bluecolouredlou​ | @dryourtearsaway​ | @hershelsue​ | @thestylinsons​ | @thelouistiti​ | @larrysballetslippers​ | @alwayshazandlou​ | @louandhazaf​ | @sadaveniren​ | @haztobegood​ | @jacaranda-bloom​ | @beelou​ | @evilovesyou​ | @larry-hiatus​ | @larryyouknow​ | @neondiamond​ | @parmahamlarrie​ | @cyantific​ | @allwaswell16​ | @thedevilinmybrain​ | @hearyouhowling​ | @birdstattoo​ | @eeveelou​ | @kingsofeverything​ | @princelyharry​ | @solvetheminourdreams​ | @crinkle-eyed-boo​ | @beckydoesthings​ | @local-troubled-writer​ | @juliusschmidt​ | @maggieisalarrie​| @pocketsunshineharry​ | @becomeawendybird​ | @justalarryblog​ | @helloamhere​ | @greenfeelings​ | @phd-mama​ | @disgruntledkittenface​

I’m sure I’ve missed someone because the list is getting long! Bye, darlings!

[maxineswritingcenter]

The Little Mermaid AU! - Sam x fem!reader part 2

Haha, nothing like procrastinating

Here’s part 1 as a refresher to whatever the hell I’m doing. 

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

(Y/N) slowly peaked her head out of the water, searching for treasures left behind. She had found a few things, including her new prized possession. It reminded her or her father's trident but had four of the pointy things instead of three.

To her right, a fish rubbed up against her side.

"Flounder, there you are." She smiled, running her fingers softly over his scales. She produced the fork from her sack she wore, "Look at this? Isn't it cool? I've seen the humans use these to brush their head hair. Or... It looked like that's what they were using. I'm gonna call it a dingle hopper."

Her fish friend look at her, then back toward deeper water, "Uhh, (Y/N)..."

"What is it?" She thought, trying to remember if she had anything to do today, "Oh no. Oh No!" She started swimming back towards her home, Flounder hot on her heels, "The ceremony!"

-

(Y/N) swam through the curtain to the throne room where her father at in his throne, flanked by her sisters.

"Well, look who the catfish dragged in." Pallas spat.

Ignoring her sister, (Y/N) bowed her head, "Father, I'm so sorry. I forgot-"

"Young lady, as a result of your behavior-" Father began.

"Reckless behavior!" The royal advisor crab, Sebastian piped in.

"The whole ceremony-"

"Was a disaster! I was the laughing stock of the reef!" Sebastian clicked.

"Sebastian."

"I had a courtship planned with the prince of the Arabian see but I dropped it all for you!" Triteia shouted.

"No wonder we were mother's favorites!" Pallas sneered.

"Enough!" Triton struck his trident on the ground, silencing the chatter. He moved him thrown to where she was, head still bowed. He lifted it up gently.

"My sweet child, you have such an amazing gift."

"I know," She sighed, meeting his eyes, "I have mother's voice."

"Then please, for her memory's sake."

"Alright, father. I promise." She smiled softly.

"It wasn't her fault really." Flouder bubbled up, "She couldn't have heard the call horns from shore-" He quickly shut his mouth, realizing what he had said.

"The shore?!" Triton bellowed.

"Nothing happened." (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers.

"How many times must I tell you?” Triton boomed, “You could have been seen by those barbaric humans!” 

“Father, they’re not barbaric!” 

“They are dangerous. I will be long gone in the muck before I see my youngest daughter snared by some fisher-eater’s hook.” Triton crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I am not a child!” She called back. 

“Don’t you use that tone with me, young lady. As long as you live in this ocean, you’ll obey my rules.” He turned to go back to the throne. 

“But, if you would just listen-” 

“Not another word - and I am never, NEVER to hear of you going to the surface again. Is that clear?” He didn’t even look at her, just tossing a glance over his shoulder. Tears pooled up in her eyes, she swam out of the throne room. Flounder came up behind her.  They both swam all the way to her secret cave where she had started collecting her human treasures. 

‘Are you okay, (Y/N)?” Flounder asked. 

She shook her head, “If only I could make him understand.” She sniffled, “I just don’t see things the way he does. I don’t see how a world that makes such wonderful things could be bad.” She swam to one of her shelves, motioning to the various items. 

“I mean, look at this stuff. Isn’t it neat?” She swept her arms out, “Look at this trove, treasures untold. How many wonders can this cavern hold? Looking around here you’re probably think that I have everything that I would need. I’ve got gadgets, gizmos, whozits, whatzits. And thingamabobs, I must have twenty of those. But, I want more.” She grabbed a flimsy thin thing that had colored art of people near the beach. 

“I wanna be where the people are. I wanna see them dancing. Walking around on those...feet. Feet. Flipping my fins, I won’t get too far.” She motioned to her tail, “Legs are required for jumping, dancing, walking along down the...what was it? Ah, the street. Up where they walk, run, stay all day in the sun. Wandering free, I wish I could be part of that world.”

She sighed, “What I would give if I could live out of these waters. What I would pay to spend a day warm on the sand. And I betcha on land they understand, bet they don’t reprimand their daughters. Bright young women, sick of swimming and ready to stand.” Flounder only watched her rant, following her around the cave. 

“I’m ready to know what the people know. Ask them my questions and get some answers. Like what’s a fire and why does it...does...burn. I just wish I could be part of the human world.” She sighed, resting on a large rock. 

Suddenly a large crashing brought both of their attention to Sebastian who was scuttling around the cave. 

“Sebastian!?” They both shouted. 

“(Y/N), have you gone mad? How-what-what is all this?” He clicked. 

“It’s my collection. Of things.” She said.

“Ah your collection. Hmm.” He thought a moment, “IF YOUR FATHER KNEW ABOUT THIS HE’D-”

“You’re not gonna tell him are you?” Flounder swam up to Sebastian. 

“Oh please, Sebastian. He would never understand.” She pleaded. 

“Your highness. You are under a lot of pressure down here. Come with me, I’ll take you home and get you something to help you feel better.” As he said this, the cave went black, meaning a ship was passing overhead. With an excited giggle, she started her way up towards the surface, Flounder followed while Sebastian called after her. She swam up until she was looking across the floor of the ship. It seemed the humans were having a little party. They were laughing and music was playing. One of these men was the most handsome creature she had ever seen. He was tall, his hair was longer and a brown color. He had the kindest looking smile. 

A short man with shorter came up to the tall man. 

“Congrats, First mate.” He chuckled, patting his back, Here, I wanted to show you this.” 

The tall man took the picture, “The woman and white case. First picture of our first hunt together. Thanks.” 

“No problem. Bitch.” 

“Jerk.” He chuckled. That must be his name. Bitch. It sounded cool.

From up above, the sky grew dark and thunder rumbled in the sky. 

“SEA STORM! STAND FAST! SECURE THE RIGGING!” One of the man shouted. (Y/N) and Flounder swam a ways from the ship, the violent thrashing of the waves was too dangerous to be around.

-

 A large wave crashed into the ship, causing the Dean to loose his footing, falling and sliding across the deck, holding onto the bars of the ship top. 

“Dean! Hang on!” The Sam shouted over the wind. 

“WE’RE GOIN DOWN, LADS! GET TO THE BOATS!” The sailors made their way to the boats. Sam went to follow, but his life line to the mast was tangle around his feet. 

“I’m stuck!” He called, but the rest of the sailors had gotten to the life boats. 

“SAM!” Dean called. He was about to call back his brother’s name but the tallest wave he had ever seen crashed down on the ship, plunging him down into the depths. 

(Y/N) watched the ship go down, “Oh no!” She dived down, Flounder calling to her. 

“It’s too dangerous!” He bubbles fell on deaf ears as she swam down into the wreck, seeing the tall man. His eyes were closed and little bubbles came from his lips. She grabbed the sharp silver stick from his belt cutting the rope, grabbing him under his arms and pulling him towards the surface. When they broke the surface, she pulled him all the way into shore, laying him on the beach. The storm had gone as quickly as it came. 

(Y/N) looked over him, brushing wet hair from his face. He looked so peaceful. He suddenly turned his head to the side, coughing up water loudly, taking deep gulping breathes. She pulled away, then came back when he was back on his back, he eyes still closed. 

“Oh what I would give to live where you are. What would I pay to stay here besides you. What do I do to see you smile? Just you and me and I could be part of your world.” She spoke softly, tracing his face.  

-

Sam slowly opened his eyes a bit, the bright sun making it too hard to see. He could see the outline of someone above him. He could hear a soft, sweet voice humming, the same song that he had heard earlier that day. 

“Sam!” He heard a voice in the distance, the person above him looked in the direction and quickly moving away, followed by a splash in the water. He heard footsteps approaching, Dean kneeling down next to him. 

“Sam! Sam, can you hear me?!” Sam opened his eyes a little more. 

“Yeah, I can hear you. Loud and clear.” 

“You almost gave a heart attack, you know that?” It had been a while since Dean scolded him. 

“There was a girl. She rescued me.” Sam panted, happy to feel the air in his lungs, “She was singing.” 

“Did you drink too much sea water?” Dean raised an eyebrow at him, “Come on, up you go big guy.” Dean helped Sam to his feet, helping him back towards the others while medical helped arrived. 

- 

(Y/N) watched them from behind a stone, Flounder and Sebastian at her sides.

“We just gotta forget this whole thing ever happened. The sea king will never know. You won’t tell him, I won’t tell him. I stay in one piece.” He clicked, snapping his claws nervously. 

“I don’t know when, I don’t know how.” She clutched the photo of the two humans to her chest, “But I know something’s starting right now. Watch and you’ll see. Someday I’ll be part of your world.” She said to herself, following after the crustacean. What she didn’t see, however, were the two eels that had been following and watching them. 

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

I definitely didn’t only now just make the sequel for this AU it’s fine. I think I’m afraid that these will never be as good as Beauty and the Beast AU

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated! 

Taglist: 

@happy-little-winchester

@hobby27

@tranzfred

@vicmc624

@ria132love

@lilulo-12

@teenwaywardasgardian

@tloveswriting

@mikrokosmicjoon

@calaofnoldor

[marigoldvance]

Trick or Treat 12

des p'tits sucrés series

prompt: (Treat) Which one is an artist creating beautiful portraits using nothing but autumn leaves and which one has just flung himself into a carefully arranged pile of their materials?

[drabble under cut]

Little Appleton-on-Bree was beautiful in autumn. The village seemed cozier, blooming with warm, dense smells and gauzy gold light. It was marvelous. Especially for one of two of Mr. Pimble's recent neighbors, who called himself Fíli.

Fíli, apparently, was a bit of an artist and would ask Mr. Pimble for some of the colorful leaves that had fallen from his trees. Let it be known that Mr. Pimble had the prettiest, most colorful trees in the village.

Naturally, Mr. Pimble always said yes and enjoyed the artwork Fíli would gift him later in the year, at Christmas. Sweet woodland portraits and wreaths and all manner of creation. He had talent, that lad.

Although autumn was beautiful, Mr. Pimble was at his jolliest when his lawn was neat and tidy, and so he would merrily rake the fallen leaves into perfectly balanced piles, two on either side of the walkway, ready for clearing as soon as he collected the designated yard waste bags from where he'd drop them on the front stairs.

And every year it was the same. He'd hear a rattling, scurrying sounds, like quick little feet through grass, and then the rustle and crunch of dead leaves, and by the time he turned around again, his lawn was in complete disarray all over again1 There was no one in sight, no rude children or childish adults, not a soul.

He could've sworn he also heard...chirping. Like an overexcited chipmunk.

To further his confusion, whenever he'd visit Fíli and his brother, Kíli, for tea after the fact, the latter would smile and nod like a child guilty of something. Mr. Pimble would have to investigate that once he caught the culprit responsible for ruining his efforts every year.

[philliamwrites]

killing me softly with his song | (Childe / Reader) [chpt.02]

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Childe / Reader

Tags: #fem!reader, #from childhood friends to lovers, #reader is a fatui agent, #slow burn, #unresolved sexual tension, #mature language, #forbidden love

Words: 3.5k

Summary: "Lybuov zla, polyubish i kozla,“ sighs your sister as she wipes off the table, but that makes you feel even more miserable. Falling for a goat might save you from an actual heartbreak by Tartaglia’s hands.

Notes: Part 1

Masterlist

Chapter 2

At the barracks’ canteen reigns the unspoken rule that no one is allowed to cook borsch, and trying to do so is punished by cleaning all windows with cold water only in the middle of the night. Can’t see anything because the nights at the outskirts of Zapolyarny are blacker than out in the taiga? Tough luck. There are so many different recipes as there are families out there, and everyone has their very own way to make it. Fatui agents have brought each other to the hospital wing over fighting which recipe is the best, therefore a couple of years before Tartaglia and you enrolled, this rule was established.

Sitting out in the cold of Jaroslawk at four in the morning, you’d kill for a hot bowl of your mamochka’s borsch—the best in Morepesok even though Tartaglia begs to differ, but the only problem with his claim is that he is fucking wrong.

Through your binoculars you see everything is quiet and dark on the other side of the compound, which is a good sign. Unfortunately, good also means very boring. You’ve been lying in the exact same position for nearly three hours now: on your belly, elbows slightly propping your upper body to see the Baron’s estate that’s embraced by a forest like a mother cradling its child. Tales have it if you make even one little mistake inside those cold brick walls, Baron Igor would personally see to it that you don’t leave these woods alive and whatever his hellish guard dogs don’t finish eating up, his servants would send to your family as a small parting gift and warning to get as far and fast away as possible.

If only he were as thorough covering his tracks as he is scaring people, but Baron Igor has never really excelled at multiple things and now, months after the first little bird brought some interesting insight, you can’t wait for Baron Igor to finally slip and confirm the rumours about him selling information on one of Il Dottore’s gun research labs to a spy from Sumeru. Intel has it exchanges usually occur once every full moon and with the orb now hidden behind thick, black clouds, this is the last chance to get some evidence before the ship leaving to Sumeru carries whoever deserves a knife in their windpipe back to their God of Wisdom.

Baron Igor has messed up, got too arrogant, and now you and your team are here to make sure he eats up his mess. It wasn’t easy to infiltrate his mansion. Mitsuki only passed because you took out two of the other contesters for one of the Baron’s favourite restaurants down in Nowobirsk. That man bows to greed and when introduced to the place’s new maître d’hôtel—the best of his kind, the most exotic to own during their flimsy ceasefire with Inazuma—Baron Igor acted swiftly and hired him. Mitsuki had gagged at those words while lieutenant Scaramouche had shown the patience of a man barely holding himself back from violence. Two days later, Mitsuki took his position as spy and head waiter of the Baron’s personal restaurant taking up the whole second floor in the right wing of his stone mansion.

“Fuck me, I look like a penguin,” Mitsuki had said on the night before his work began at the estate, glaring at himself in the mirror dressed in a sharply tailored tuxedo.

“Then we know who to call if Baron Igor decides to open a zoo,” Mikhail had said, but he was in no hurry to turn away his appreciative gaze from how tight Mitsuki’s black pants tugged his slim legs and ass.

That’s the team, Mitsuki, you and Mikhail—Lock, Shock and Barrel, one of your fellow division’s comrade likes to call you for unknown reasons, simply laughing to himself and shaking his head as if trying to get rid of a good memory. Though for all that Scaramouche is concerned, to him you’re triple double and a clusterfuck he doesn’t want anywhere near him or so help him Her Majesty the Tsaritsa, he’ll stake your heads and scatter your remains to the seagulls terrorising the coast of Port Odessa.

“He loves us,” Mikhail likes to joke, even though you aren’t sure the words love and Scaramouche should be used in one sentence.

“One day, he’ll kill one of us with his bear hands and feel nothing,” Mitsuki commonly remarks, sounding like whatever you’d do to receive such a punishment is probably ghastly enough to justify being murdered.

“His hat is pretty neat,” is usually your only contribution and they both look at you as if you’re crazy.

“Any movement?” a voice asks from your right. Mikhail shakes still fresh snow from his head and shoulders as he dugs under the narrow doorway, looking like a puppy trying to shake itself dry. Now that a year has passed since a Geo Vision user crushed his right arm and healers had to amputate it to save his life, he’s adapted pretty well to only one arm and hand at his disposal. He’s balancing a cup in his palm while holding two paper bags with his fingers and somehow makes it look easy. He rejoins you at the window, carefully placing the steaming cup and one bag in front of you. You hand him your binoculars so he can see for himself, and inspect your breakfast. “Do I even want to know where you found,” you peak inside the bag, “pirozhky at a time like this?”

“Couple of blocks down there’s this place. Really nice lady, gave me one for free and added a little extra to our coffee.”

You take a sip, and instantly begin coughing and pounding your chest as it goes down burning. “Archons, that’s disgusting. Who in their right mind puts Fire-Water in their coffee?”

“I know, right?” Mikhail beams. “It’s genius.”

It’s ghastly. You take another sip. Horrible, really. But it keeps you warm and awake. So maybe it isn’t that bad at all.

While Mikhail observes the area, you dig into your beef and onion pirozhky. There’s nothing fun about pulling an all-nighter but sometimes sharing a cup of coffee and eating warm food helps to get through them. Also knowing someone suffers with you. Sharing pain is gain, after all.

“Well, they sure like taking their sweet time,” Mikhail mumbles, getting a little more comfortable on the cold stone ground. He puts the binoculars away and digs into his own food. “What are we gonna do if nothing happens today?”

“Then we’ll come back next month and do it all over again.” Hopefully you don’t have to. Fyrva’snezh was two weeks ago but this winter started off particularly brutal. Two out of three units are still missing from their outskirts training and you don’t want to be in the poor lasses’ and lads’ shoes who are still at the infirmary recovering from severe hypothermia. “What worries me more is that Mitsuki might lose his sanity if he stays there another whole month.”

“Well, what doesn’t kill him makes him stronger,” Mikhail says, wiping his greasy fingers off his pants. “I just want to wipe that smug smirk off the Baron’s pig face.”

He and probably every citizen populating Jaroslawk. “Once Mitsuki locates the communication point, we’ll go in and neutralise the target if we can’t catch him alive,” you say. “Baron Igor will try and weasel his way out of it but so far all evidence stands against him. The rest is up to Her Majesty.” And the Tsaritsa is known for many things, but mercy isn’t one of them. That will show anyone else trying to make business behind her back.

“Do you really think Mitsuki will endure another month in that stupidly tight uniform?” Mikhail sounds like he very much wished for another month out in the cold like this if it meant Mitsuki would bless him for a while longer wearing his uniform.

You stretch your leg and kick him in his shin. “Don’t jinx this, Nozhyalensky,” you say. “No matter how good his ass looks in those pants, it isn’t worth freezing your own ass off out in this cold. If we have to extend our mission, I’m going to steal your coat and own it for the whole time.”

“You don’t care if I freeze to death?”

“I really don’t.”

He puts his hand on his heart in mock despair. “That’s harsh.”

It would be his own fault, no hard feelings. You sit in silence, sharing your scalding hot coffee. In the mansion on the other side, a light flickers on in the east wing. Mikhail shifts and makes a disgusted grunt. “I did not want to know the Baron is banging the Duchess of Pavlovich.”

“Might be good leverage in the future.” You quickly dot it down in your notebook, squinting at the barely illuminated page. “Especially if the Duke refuses to pay his taxes again. I’m sure we can get to him through her.”

More minutes pass in silence. Mikhail continues his watch while you start to mindlessly doodle a little Foul Legacy Child in the corner of your page. You wonder what time it is in Liyue. Is Childe also out on a mission or tugged in and sleeping well in a land that knows nothing of harsh winds and freezing nights. Does he spare a thought of home? Is he missing you as much as you miss him or has he already filled the gnawing void with faceless, warm women that comfort him at night?

“Heard anything from our comrades in Liyue?” Mikhail asks nonchalantly, but he’s always been the poorest liar of you three and it’s pretty obvious where this conversation is going. Part of you hungers for that conflict.

“They still can’t find whoever killed the Geo Archon. But Lord Childe might have located the Gnosis and has begun his infiltration.”

Chances are good he might succeed in another month or so, though from the letters you’ve received so far, it sounds like he might succeed fucking the consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor before that. Tartaglia has never started anything serious with guys before, safe from occasionally drunk making outs, but new cultures could change a lot in you and it’s Tartaglia’s first time staying for so long in Liyue and meeting a man like this so called Zhongli.

Mikhail clicks his tongue in disgust. “I can’t believe this guy is over there for three months already and is still nowhere near finishing the job.” He spits at the ground and twists his mouth in a very familiar manner of annoyance—only usually this expression is meant for initiate Fatui members who can’t tell a shotgun from a sniper rifle.

“How can you still be mad at him for handing you your ass three years ago,” you say. A man’s ego is such a frail thing, thank the Tsaritsa for being a strong, independent woman.

“This isn’t about that stupid fight,” Mikhail splutters, red blotches creeping up his neck. His inability to lie is abysmal. “I don’t get how you stand that guy. His arrogance needs its own giant room to fit inside. Someone needs to knock him down a peg or two and maybe beat out this need to whore around as well—”

You move in a flash. Mikhail doesn’t have any time to react before he finds himself on his back, pinned down by your weight with a knife to his throat. “Mikhail, I love you like my own kin and you know I’d take a bullet for you any time,” you growl. “But speak another filthy word about Childe and I will cut off your tongue and feed it to street dogs while watching you bleed out like a slaughtered pig. Are we clear?”

You feel Mikhail’s chest rising and falling under your spread hand, his body warm, proof of his life. How easy it would be to take it from him, to warm the cold, dirty ground with his blood.

Mikhail’s dark eyes don’t give away anything. He’s holding very still, like a cornered animal faced with its hunter; don’t move and maybe it thinks one is dead. Eventually, he says quietly, “If you could see what an unlikeable, unpleasant person he really is, maybe...” He doesn't finish. There is no need to. You know very well what point he’s trying to make.

“I don’t need your supervision,” you say. “Or your pity.”

Mikhail barks a loud, humourless laugh. “Lassie, if I had an ounce of pity left for anyone else than myself, I wouldn’t be very good at this job, would I?”

You shift your weight. Mikhail groans as you put pressure on a wound a Pyro Vision user inflicted on him a week ago that hasn’t fully healed yet—a favour for Mikhail to prevent him from following his train of thought. You don’t know what is worse: His unrequited love for Mitsuki or Tartaglia and you knowing what you both want but can’t have.

Mikhail quietly says your name and gently lowers your hand. The sharp knife has bit into his skin just enough to leave a fine, red line on his throat. “All I’m saying is, I am not the bad guy here.”

He is right, of course. But that makes it even worse, because without a bad guy, who could you put blame on? Who would be the target of your frustration and your scorn? Who would pay for countless sleepless nights wasted alone or in a stranger’s arms?

If there is no good, no bad side, no villains or heroes to put blame on, what does that leave for you? Just the law. It is hard, but it is the law.

There is no one but yourself who carries the burden. Even knowing Tartaglia goes through the same doesn’t soothe the pain steadily growing in your heart. You’re like two stars gravitating to each other, seeking the sweet collision to finally become one and create something bigger, the most exquisite light in the endless black galaxy, but whenever you manage to come close to each other, other forces pull you apart.

You shift your position from towering above him to slumping back on Mikhail’s lap, your anger deflated like a balloon.

“Arguing with you is no fun,” you mumble, sheathing the knife back in its place inside your boot.

Mikhail arches one dark brow. “Learnt from the best. You don’t want to get into an argument with my mama.”

“Are you two leaving me out from a team bonding session?” comes a static voice from your left.

“Darling, we would never leave you out from a potential threesome,” Mikhail says back, a wicked grin flirting with his mouth.

“Blergh,” you groan in disgust and roll off him, grabbing for the plastic piece from where Mitsuki’s voice has sounded; Il Dottore’s newest invention, a voice transmitter agents use for long distance communication.

“So, how’s it cooking, good looking?” Mikhail asks, ignoring your eyes rolling back. “Anything new at the front?”

Mitsuki is silent for a moment. Somewhere, a dog barks. “I think someone might have tipped the Baron off.”

Immediately, you feel Mikhail's body tense next to you. “Do you need us to come in?”

Oppressive silence fills the room. Mikhail jerks, but before he can jump to rash actions, you grab his arm hard enough to bruise. He freezes, and you both stare at the voice transmitter in Mikhail’s hand.

A moment later, static crackles, and Mitsuki says, “I received a note on the caviar shipment. Roads are all clear, it should come in around seven in the morning.”

Mikhail relaxes, but a sweat bead rolls from his temple and disappears behind his black turtle neck sweater. He sags against you, exhaling very loudly.

A couple of years ago, after you three had been working together and hadn’t tried to kill each other as often as other teams, you guys had decided to come up with your own secret language for times like these. Mikhail had first complained about the hours put into learning it the most—the semantics always changing depending on what line of work you’d infiltrate—but eventually even he had agreed it was a pretty neat trick. What Mitsuki has said simply means all is in order and the mission is proceeding smoothly.

“Little fucker,” Mikhail grumbles, ruffling his own hair just to keep his hand busy. You agree. It feels like you’ve aged five years in those last five minutes.

That relief is short lived. A small explosion from the right wing inside the mansion lights up the night like a firework show. Mikhail is out of the window in a flash. You grab your rifle, keeping an eye on him as he crosses the street in a flash and climbs over the iron gate.

Two shadows tumble through the hole in the second floor. You sway your scope, laying eyes on Mitsuki as he wrestles with a cloaked figure. Purple sparks fly, clashing with crimson flames that rise skyward and turn into black smoke. At least something is according to plan even though your Cryo Vision would be more effective.

You watch them fight for a moment, unable to get a clear shot as both are short distance fighters. Mitsuki moves quicker than a flash, whirling two hatches over his head, parrying a deathly bow from the Sumeru’s Claymore. Mitsuki is smaller than most of his comrades. People like to underestimate him, but that’s part of the fun, according to him. Proving people wrong. He dodges another swift strike, rolling out of the way and giving you a clear sight at your target. But over his shoulder, Mitsuki catches your eyes and gives the tiniest shake of his head. Not yet.

You wish he could see the stingy eye you’re giving him right now. You’ve waited long enough out in this cold and your whole body shakes with the need to move, the need to fight. A quick look to Mikhail shows he’s fending off two of the Baron’s guards himself. Luckily, they can’t really hold their stand against a fully trained Fatui agent. He quickly takes out his opponents, closing in on Mitsuki and the Sumeru agent. Mitsuki has driven him to the edge of the forest. So that’s his plan. You wait until the spy is right beneath a long, thick branch, then pull the trigger. The shot is muffled by the silencer, slicing through the air with infused Cryo power. It hits its target, cutting the branch off. The Sumeru spy is too slow. When the branch buries him under its weight, Mikhail finally catches up to Mitsuki, and through your scope you can see him patting Mitsuki down for injuries. Mitsuki pushes him away, not hard or in a mean way, just enough to signal this isn’t the time. The job isn’t done yet.

Mitsuki advances the spy and kneels, looking for signs of life. He looks up, his dark eyes searching your scope. He holds your gaze, picking up his voice transmitter.

“I have good and bad news,” he says. “The spy is still alive, so we’ll get our answers. But now I’m pretty sure the Baron knows what’s going on.”

“Then don’t just stand there, someone go after him, quick!” you yell in your transmitter.

Before Mikhail dashes off, you hear him curse. “Lord Scaramouche is going to kill us.”

He will, considered this was supposed to undergo without the Baron noticing anything.

* * *

Dear little tygress,

forgive my horrible handwriting. I am still shaking from all the laughter your last letter gave me. Zhongli-xiansheng was actually worried for my wellbeing because I had choked on air and almost died. I swear, you will kill me one day, little tygress.

Speaking of little and potential lethal beasts, I’m surprised Scaramouche didn’t use your head as a toilet plunger. I really do think he's fond of you, little tygress. Any other team would be six feet under by now. You have to tell me your secret once I’m back. Scaramouche still doesn’t know I broke his favourite, ugly cup with the bear on the front from Fontaine, and I want to be prepared once he knows.

Everything is the same in Liyue, and at the same time, everything is changing. Rex Lapis’ murder is still unsolved, and I do enjoy watching the little traveller boy run around looking for answers. Once I return with the Geo Archon’s gnosis, dinner will be on me.

How are things at home? I hope Tonia hasn’t finished all mooncakes by herself again and saved some for the rest of the bunch. I can’t bear to hear Anthon cry again about me only sending sweets to Tonia and Teucer. Has the old man gotten in touch with you? He still doesn’t reply to me, but mama says he’s reading the letters. Maybe a bottle of Liyue’s Baijiu will loose his tongue, or hand for that matter. It’s almost as good as Fire-Water, promise.

Till next time and don’t get too much on little ‘Mouche’s nerves, otherwise there will be no room left for me.

Yours, Red Fox

__________________________________________________

please drop by my ko-fi if you enjoyed my writing!

[blackberry-gingham]

Alright y'all, in honor of Valentine's I'm doing a quick break from requests and making a holiday post! Enjoy, and happy Valentine's to all from me AND the boys!

Relationship or not, remember that you are more then enough and I love each and every one of you mwah!!! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💝💖💗

Imagine: what each of the boys would do as your Valentine

George

George would treat you to an at home spa day!

First things first of course, and that being a nice hot breakfast

But after that, it’s all you baby!!

You guys would take a nice warm (and scented ofc) bath together and just relax and unwind

Then when you’re all nice and clean, you go get changed into what’s most comfortable for you, ie fresh PJs, a robe, ect.

And then back to bed, where George has a whole set up that he’s been planning for you

A fragrent, but not overwhelming candle burns in the corner, offering a low, amber light

Nearby, a slow record plays quietly, adding the perfect amount of white noise to the background

And finally, a few rose petals are scattered on the freshly made bed

George invites you to come lay down, while he works some lavender scented oil into his hands

You can’t hide your excitement as you trot over to the bed and get comfortable

“Stop squirming now, you’ll tense up again!”, George laughs, as he respectfully exposes your back to the cool air

Somehow you manage to settle yourself, and George goes to work, rubbing slowly outward from the base of your spine to the curves of your hips

He repeats this gesture aaaall the way up your spine, placing kisses here and there to your bare skin and using his expert thumbs to gently loosen any knots his palms can’t stretch out

But before moving on, he makes sure to pay extra attention to the stress knots in your shoulder blades until they’re as loose as he can get them

He slides up to your arms, getting all the pressure out of the joints as he rubs from your wrists up, then down to your legs to help relieve the soreness from your day to day hustle and bustle

and when all’s said and done, you feel weightless from the relief and steady massage, ready to go back to sleep

George grabs a nearby blanket and drapes it over you, the warmth helping to lock the oil into your skin and muscles

He lays down beside you and presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek, and with but a soft whisper he says, “Happy Valentine’s, love”

John

For Valentine’s day, John wants to do something extra special!

But what?

He’s pretty good about being sweet and sentimental when he wants to be, but how can he turn that into a gift...

Under normal circumstances, he’d tell you that a day of good behavior on his behalf is a gift in itself

And while that could certainly be true, you deserve better then that

So, he does some thinking and goes for the one gift he can give that few to none have ever received

John works tirelessly and in secret so as to keep it a surprise

Judging on obsession and perfectionist work ethic alone, you would almost mistake him for Paul

But finally, finally it’s all ready to go

You wake up that day like any other, and you almost forget what day it is

John appears to already be awake somewhere in the house considering he’s not beside you

Then, it comes to you

Excited to see if he’s been planning something, you hop out of bed and go off to find him

If he doesn’t have any plans today, you certainly can come up with a few!

John hears you coming and catches you around a corner

You give a yelp of surprise as john picks you up in his strong arms and gives you a spin

He wishes you a good morning and happy valentine’s day followed immediately after by a smattering of kisses before he sets you down

“Now come on, I have a surprise for you!”

John leads you into the living room amd sets you on the couch

Looking a bit antsy, he tells you to close your eyes

You comply, and by now the suspense is killing you

At last John’s footsetps return, “Now promise you won’t laugh, alright?”

You gasp in mock hurt, “I would never!”

John sighs and rolls his eyes, but he suposes that’ll sufice

Fianlly you get to open and you’re... well, you’re lost for words

In John’s arms is a large framed canvas, and painted there upon it is a loving, beautiful rendering of a photogrpah he keeps on his desk

It’s of the first dance you and he ever shared

He carefully guides it into your lap so you can get a better look

“Well? Do you like it?”

You trace your finger ever so lightly along the curve of John’s painted back as he holds you close in the picture still slow dance, a soft smile drawn onto his lips

Tears well up in your eyes as you slowly put the treasured piece down

“John...”, you turn to face him, unable to get the words out

But you don’t have to

John’s expresion softeneds and he leans in for a kiss, “...Happy Valentine’s”

Paul

Paul also has a bit of thinking to do for his gift

His knee jerk response is to dedicate a song to you!

...Again!

And while he does start working on one (for later, of course), he decides perhaps he should think a bit deeper for today

But what can he do that’s more personal then music?

He doesn’t really have much else in the way of outstanding talent

(Or so he thinks)

Well... He definitely knows he wants to produce a labor of love for you

After all, he would go to great extents to make you happy, so whatever he can do to make that happen, he’d gladly do it!

So, he thinks and thinks, and at last it comes to him

He breaks out some paper and some colorful things to write with and sets to work

When the day comes, he preps a little tray of breakfast and nestles his gift to you along with the plate and utensils

“Room service!”, he knocks sharply on the bedroom door and lets himself in without waiting for a response

Slowly, you begin to stir at the disturbance, but you awaken for sure after Paul snaps the shades open

A stream of soft light floods the bedroom, forcing you to get up

“Paul, wha...?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day!”, he happily declares

He swings around to fetch the tray from where he left it, then crosses back over to your bed side

“Here we are!”, Paul lays the tray in your lap, then comes around to sit beside you

“Oh, thank you Paul, this is lovely”, still a bit sleepy, you give him a kiss then pick up your fork and knife

“Wait wait! Look at this first!”, he retrieves a small stack of what appears to be printer paper neatly tied together by the corner

You take it and examine it

The front has a big, poorly drawn heart done in red crayon with you and Paul’s initials written in the middle

Already a smile blooms across your face, which grows into a full laugh as you flip through each page

It’s a little coupon book of romantic favors, all written in assorted, Valentine’s themed colors and messy handwriting

Breakfast in bed, dinner at a restaurant of your choice, a massage, movie night, 5 kisses, and more are among your choices

“Paul, I love it! Thank you...”, you land on a coupon that says 1 makeout session, then shoot him a look

“...Can I redeem this one now?”

Paul glances at it and chuckles, giving you a sly smile, “Hm, I think I can give you that one for free. Just this once...”

Breakfast will have to wait ;)

Ringo

Now, Ringo is a simple man

He loves you very much of course, and would do anything to give you the best day ever!

But considering the gift is supposed to be something of a surprise... 

That does complicate things a bit on what he should do for you, given that he can’t, you know, ask

He does a bit of thinking and even asks the other lads for ideas, despite the fact they aren’t much help

“How should we know?”, they say... Can you believe that?

‘How should they know’, how should he know?

So, he invests lots of thought into it...

All the spare brainpower he can muster...

And then... He’s got it!

He has to move quick to get everything together, given that Valentine’s is just around the corner, but he just might manage!

With everything set, he takes some time to get everything together for the big day, all neat and pretty

He even throws in some overtime while you sleep to spruce the place up a bit

The next day you climb out of bed in the morning and make your way downstairs

How strange that Ringo didn’t come to bed last night...

Not that you’re exactly complaining, that is

That man can snore something fierce

Hardly a few steps from the hall to the living room and you can already hear the good old sound of your boyfriend's rhythmic snoring

You yawn, closing your eyes and stretching as you round the corner, “...Dear, are yo-?”

But when you open your eyes, all you see is wall to wall of what appear to be handmade Valentine’s decorations

Sparkly, cut out heart banners, paper steamers, and a few clusters of balloons blown at various sizes are hung randomly around the room

Then, there on the coffee table, a massive bouquet of roses, over a hundred at least, provide a fragrant backdrop to a small teddy bear and a handmade card

You pick up the bear and give it a cuddle, then go for the card

On the front, two stick figures, one of which has been illustrated with quite a comically large nose, stand on a green hill with some hearts floating between them over their connected stick hands

The inside is addressed to you with a simple message of “Happy Valentine’s Day! Peace and love, Ringo”

You gasp and coo at the overwhelmingly sweet gesture, “Oh, Ritchie! Did you do all this yourself?”

Ringo snorts abruptly at the sound of his name and mutters, “Surprise!”, as he falls off the couch with a thump

Groggily, he comes to his senses, “Oh, uh... Happy Valentine’s! Uhm, D-do you like it?”, he asks nervously

You laugh and kneel down, your head hovering just above his as you give his forehead a kiss

“I love it”, you smile, and when you kiss him again, and again, and again, Ringo thinks...

Perhaps he did alright after all

[powerhh]

my birthday: but make it a beautiful disaster

today at work, my coworkers excitedly congratulated me on my birthday and proceeded to gift me with a very pretty birthday cake one of them had personally taken the time during the day to make. i work in a restaurant&bar, he’s one of the chefs, trust me when i said it looked super tasty. 

i say looked, because i don’t actually have any idea what it tasted like. 

you see, they forgot to ask me one very important thing before all of this: they forgot to ask me if i have any food allergies.. 

..which i very much do.

so i stare in shock as i get presented with this super pretty cake and thank all the lads for congratulating me, and i’m mentally going “how do i ask if they know about my allergies? because i don’t think they Know? how do i tell them? how do i say it?? do i just eat it and perish on the spot to not have to tell them?” i was delighted that they put in the thought and effort, but feeling So Bad about not being able to appreciate it.

before i could make a move, the one who made the cake comes up to me and he says: “i made it just for you! 😊 i hope you don’t have any allergies..”

and i look him in the eyes, my eyes filled despair, and i say: “but i do.”

there’s this pause, where i see him take in my words. i see the horror on his face. he softly asks what i’m allergic to. i tell him: wheat and dairy. he looks at his creation, his beautiful chocolate cake with cream. the cake that Definitely has wheat and dairy in it. and he sighs. i start giggling.

one of my bosses comes over, he’s definitely the one that arranged it and made sure i was going to get celebrated. he smiles and asks what i thought about the cake, i’m about to answer but my coworker beats me to it. he says: “well she wouldn’t know, considering she’s allergic to it.”

the same look of horror and disbelief appears on the face of my boss. he looks at me, asks “You have allergies??” and i nod. those two share a look of despair and i can see the embarrassment kicking in at this point. i start laughing harder. 

they clear their throats. one of them goes. “actually you see, you’re just meant to look at it. it’s decoration.”, the other one says, “no it’s for a guest actually.” the best take on it was “it’s actually not dairy or wheat in it, this is 100% pressed cacao and paint.” at this point we’re all laughing at the situation.

another coworker comes over, he’s one of the bartenders. he’s told about the situation, wheezes and offers to pour me a shot instead. my boss, in defeat, says: “she doesn’t drink either.”

after a while they decide that they’re at least going to sing “happy birthday” to me. we’re all still working, in the middle of a shift, so someone keeps running away when they’ve almost gathered everyone. finally, this group of awkward but well-meaning men are gathered around me. they sing probably one of the worst renditions of happy birthday i’ve ever heard, and i can only watch on with a massive smile on my face.

you know when people say it’s the thought that counts? yeah, without a doubt. this definitely is one of my favorite birthday celebrations ever. i’ll take a real good story over a nice cake (that i can eat) any day.

also, after some arguing over who was going to get to eat the cake, i slide it over to another coworker. he says it’s really good. with a satisfied nod, i get back to work.

ngl i have a pretty neat workplace and very sweet coworkers.

[spnsmile]

Day 10:Sweet Rides 🌸 15x14 aftermath @winchester-reload

in which Castiel learns of Mrs. Butters moving on without her lads in the Bunker. How about the angel?

Castiel knew immediately something was wrong. It was telling by how the grassy front lawn was well-trimmed in exact centimeters. 

At first, he thought maybe Dean had an incredible surge of energy to do house chores other than frying burgers, the man had gifted hands with precision to cut things, which was okay since the extra work could keep Dean from his daily dose of oil. He would've dismissed the thought had it not for the second clue.

The front metal door was glaring shine like a mirror. Cas stared.

So maybe Sam got carried away with cleaning too... Nothing new with that, he was the "neat-freak" as Dean said. The number of times he polishes his hair might just have the same effect on others. Or not.

Worried, he entered the Bunker to find Dean almost at eye level in the middle of the room. Castiel’s eye rounded as he ran to the rail exclaiming-

"Dean!?"

"Hey, look who's late at the party?" Dean said like he’s not ten feet from the floor. Castiel cranes his neck and saw that Dean was holding a wrench while on top of a steel ladder, fixing the plumbing. Sam's by the table preparing some spell while Jack sits there, finishing his milkshake and half eaten piece of pastry.

Castiel calmed himself. They were all okay.

"What happened here?" he descended the stairs.

"Cas," Jack beams, "Welcome back, you want some cake?"

"No, I... maybe later... Did something happen?" Castiel stepped near the ladder to keep it still. Dean was precariously swinging and it was distracting him. 

"Nothing serious, Cas. Just need to redo the warding, it got messed up when the Bunker went on full power." Sam answered.

"Warding? Why? Did you guys get attacked?" he moved when Dean jumped down, landing in front of him with their space paper thin. Dean looked awfully handsome as always but something was different. He looked fresh and clean and... Castiel’s nostril flared. Did Dean use some lavender...?

"Understatement for Mary Poppins. Want some tomato juice? My glass is still half full,"

"You drink tomato juice now?"

Jack nodded, "Mrs. Butters said he needs to watch out for cholesterol."

Castiel turned. "Who?"

"Oh, the wood nymph who lived here with the Men of Letters in the 50s. She’s the guardian of the Bunker.”

"She's the sweetest, most awesome gal" Dean gushed, "I mean she can cook, bake, prepare us snacks while on a hunt! She does laundry and she can even power up the Bunker, can you believe we're running this gem half baked?"

Castiel didn’t know where to begin at the load of information, so he focused on the supernatural stuff.

"A woodnymph? How? They’re magical creatures who lived in the mountains forests, the rivers or the streams and are very powerful and territorial, how did one end up here?”

“The Men of Letters tricked her,” Sam sighed, “They used her to get rid of monsters, Cas... like she’s some anti-monster machine.”

“Gowdawful sons of bitches but yeah, they were saving the world.” Dean grumbled, “but they could’ve been honest with her in the first place.”

Castiel considered Dean for a moment, the lavender scent still lingering around him. Something about his hair or his clothes? The he realized it’s the scent of the wood nymph that’s enveloped Dean’s clothes and skin.

“Get rid of it,” he said, a little annoyed.

“What?”

“Take a shower then tell me where she is, now.”

“She’s gone, Cas,” Jack answered, “Just this morning. She missed her home.”

“And that's why we can't have everything nice." Dean agreed.

Cas squinted, "What does that mean?”

“ET gone home.” Dean smiled but Castiel sensed his gloom. He knew E.T, how could he not when Dean kept asking Jack to do the finger thing?

"She was really nice Cas,” Jack said sincerely, “she looked after me and spoke to me about second chances, she was really sweet...well, until she locked me in the dungeon-”

"She did what?"

"After poisoning my system to weaken me."

"She what?!" Castiel blinked in disbelief. Dean snorted.

"He's fine, you think we'd let anyone hurt him when you’re not around? It's Sam you should hear, he went on a date with Eileen and got laid-"

"Thank you, Dean,” Sam shook his head as Jack grinned.

"She pulled out Sam's nails," he said in awe, "and nearly had Sam and Dean kill me."

Cas' mouth dropped open. He glared seething at Dean accusingly who finishes his juice with a shrug.

"It's natural someone gotta try to kill us each day, right?"

"And you?" Cas prompted, "What exactly did she do to you? Hug you so hard you almost smelled like her?”

"Jealous boyfriend, you can’t complain. You know how she multi-dimensionally vacuumed your feathers all over the place and called my room a bird house?" Dean laughed.

"She was in your room?”

"She was in his room, folding all his underthings." Sam sniggered. Dean glared at him with Cas giving him a look when he took his angel blade out. "That's it, which forest is she from?”

Dean pulled his elbow back, "Aw come on, dude, chill. She fixed the television in the Dean cave we accidentally knocked off the wall because someone couldn’t hold their--

“Dean!” Sam barked, “Language! There’s a kid here!”

“Awh, christ!” Dean cursed, “Come on.” Castiel allowed Dean to drag him to the kitchen where he served the angel a glass of tomato juice.

“Is this going to be your new diet?”

“Do you disapprove?”

“No, it’s actually good. She certainly has a knack for human care if she noticed how you’ve been... overdoing your intake of junk foods.”

“The juice is not that awful. Anyway, I bet she and her lads got a nice thing going on around here before Abaddon killed them all.” the hard note in his voice didn’t go unnoticed to Castiel who studied Dean’s face quietly.

“You want to tell me something, Dean?”

“Yep. Stop me with the tomato. It’ll kill my sense of taste.”

“You have tomato on your burger. Tell me or that tv’s in danger.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Well, you know, she kept her self preserved here since the 50s, Cas? She really missed her home. And I was thinking if things go bad, I don’t want you ending up like that.”

“Being stuck in the Bunker?” he caught Dean’s solemn eyes.

“Yeah... also being alone, waiting...it was a sweet ride, Cas, but if we don’t come back and you missed home, especially if you miss home, you gotta go okay? Don’t suspend yourself here, don’t wait. I was sorry for her, but if it happened to you...I’d... I don’t want that.”

“Hmmm” Cas nodded, “I will definitely miss home.” He stared at Dean hard, “That’s why I keep coming back to it no matter how many times I got pulled away because... I always want to be home.”

Dean blinked in surprise with red tinge flaming on his cheeks when he seemingly understood and that’s the most important thing. Castiel held his gaze in all seriousness.

“Dean, you know she had to go because no one important for her was here anymore,” Castiel clarified, “She had a reason to stay, Dean. They were gone so she moved on. It’s only natural.”

Dean nodded, but still bowed. “She still loved them even though they’re the reason she’s...”

“You can’t teach the heart reason, right?” Cas amended, “and if they were really nice to her then maybe she was happy here too. There’s no need to be sad for her, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know... just, I keep thinking about you... how in the end, we all have to go at the of the road...” Dean paused looking wary and tired, “I just wished the road just goes on, you know... I’m still afraid of that vacant seat, Cas.”

“Of course.” Castiel nodded. “So you have to save a seat for me because I’m coming along. I’m not losing you.”

Dean looked so thunderstruck, Castiel just wanted to offer him pies and burgers to make him happy again. Won’t force him the tomato juice, Dean needs his coffee too. But after awhile, his smile returned with a flicker of light in his eyes.

“Can’t get rid of you even in death, huh?” Dean sighed relaxing now.

"I’m afraid not. And now that it’s cleared, where are your underthings?” Castiel demanded. “Did she touch that Scooby doo...?”

[goldrun]

An unexpected inquiry: foolish notion

Read part 1 here

A/N: Hey guys! It took me more than three weeks to write this part, mainly because I wasn’t feeling it at all. But when I started writing, a lot of ideas popped up in my head and it came naturally (mostly). So I hope you’ll enjoy this part!!

@nerdbirdsworld​ @lilbabyhoneypot​ @dreams-of-wander​ @bluemirkwood​ @meilovesanime​ @downwiththedoorpoole​ @theofficialwitch​ @katewatso​ @c-s-stars​

Pairing: Fili x Reader

Word count: 3484

It was almost 8 o'clock. You were in the flower shop back in the stockroom pretending to count the number of daffodils for the day after.

You couldn't set your mind to it. You still weren't able to fathom what happened yesterday. A prince asked you to court you. You. And you refused. Well, not quite, you sort of decided to give him a chance. It also felt kind of foolish. When you meet your One you just know it, and he definitely didn't felt like yours. And this kind of connection was more important to you than marrying some prince. You couldn’t deny the fact that you felt 'something', even though you declared it as negligible. Any other young dam would've said yes immediately. But you weren’t any other dam.

The dress you were wearing was a simple one, made of a periwinkle colored smooth silk and reached above your ankles. The sleeves came just over your elbows and they had lace hanging on the ends. The corset with lilac colored flowers sewn upon it was laced at the backside, just a small wink to your job. It wasn't overdone, and you felt beautiful. You even felt like you put a little too much effort for someone you didn't even care about, you chuckled to yourself, who are you kidding, of course you cared. Even felt nervous. Your (H/C) hair was partly braided on the front, with the rest of your hair hanging loose. Alava braided it. All decorated with small golden beads you inherited from your father and mother, as well as the dress you were wearing. It was worn by your mother and her mother before her. Your family wasn’t wealthy and with you being the only one left, this was the way you could honor them every time you had a special occasion. Wait, was this a special occasion? You shook your head and tried not to think about it too much.

Back in the stockroom you counted about sixty daffodils but you weren’t sure of the number, since you started counting again for about three or four times.

Suddenly the doorbell jangled and you heard footsteps on the wooden oak floor. Your heart skipped a beat. “Y/N?” You heard a male voice calling. You sighed in relief, it wasn’t a stupid joke between him and his brother, a thought that slipped through your head at night. Sharing one last glance in the small hand mirror you kept in a drawer for when you ever needed it, never expecting that it would ever be needed for a situation like this. Your legs almost forgot how to walk when you made your way to the main room of the shop, and you took a deep breath before entering.

There he stood. All handsome and neatly dressed. You looked directly into his blue eyes.

“Hi.” You gasped, feeling as if your feet weren't even touching the ground.

A smile appeared on his lips as he approached you closer. Oh no, that dimple again, you thought.

“Hi.” He marvelled as he took you in. "You look beautiful.” He said with hushed tone.

You smiled timidly. "You’re very kind, thank you.” You brushed your dress.

The two of you staring at each other for a moment. None of you really knowing what to say.

He wore a brown leather coat with beige colored fur on the fronts. A belt in the same color as his coat with golden buckles closed it all together.

“You look handsome, Prince Fili.” You broke the silence, instantly regretting what you said. Was it even appropriate?

He blushed a little. “Thank you.” He smiled. “And please, just call me Fili.” He shrugged

You beamed. “Very well, Fili.”

"I-I brought you a gift." He stammered and reached with his hand somewhere in his coat. He handed you a small black box and when you opened it your mouth fell open. It was a small brooch and recognized it as a lily. The flower was white and covered it in small crystals and fit right in the palm of your hand. "Thank you, it's beautiful but i can't accept this." Still mesmerized by the gesture.

Fili was determined. "No, it's a gift, from me to you."

“I don’t know what to say...Again, thank you.” You stammered. You pinned the brooch down on your chest.

“It looks good on you.” Fili approved.

You gushed. “It’s beautiful, I love it.”

“So, where are you taking me?” You asked with a curious tone.

“I’m taking you to a small tavern called ‘The Joyful Goat’ which is a short walk from here.” He grinned.

“A tavern?” You asked hesitantly. It didn’t sound quite pleasing to your ears.

“Don’t worry, it’s a very neat one.” He assured.

The two of you walked towards the tavern. Chit-chatting along the way. You told him about your family, and how the flower shop was owned by your grandparents. He told about his family as well, and his life in the royal halls, which you were interested to hear about.

When you reached the tavern you noticed a sign with a goat on it.

“Here it is!” He praised as he pulled the door and let you in first.

It was rather a tiny tavern, but just as he said, it was very neat. A friendly old dwarf greeted you and he seemed to know your companion.

Fili hugged the dwarf. “Hoìn! How are you?” Fili asked enthusiastically.

“Prince Fili.” He said loudly. “Nice to see you around! How is your mother?” Hoìn wondered. “She’s doing well, she said to send you her regards.” Fili said sincere.

“That’s good to hear.” Hoìn said. “And please send her our greetings.”

“I will!” Fili said. “Do you have a table for two?” He questioned.

“Excuse me, I was wandering off, please follow me!” As he gestured to follow him.

You sat down at the dark brown mahogany table, at the opposite of Fili. You took a quick look around, a fire was crackling and a few dwarfs sat at the bar. You enjoyed the ambiance as your eyes turned back onto your company. Fili even looked even more good-looking in this warm scenery. You noticed his warm blond hair and his braided moustache in the same hue. You tried to study his face as unnoticable as possible but you were ripped out of your thoughts abruptly.

“Myla!” Hoìn yelled as an older female dwarf appeared, supposedly his wife. “Can you give these two lovebirds our best wine and special stew?”

“Of course!” She said lighthearted.

“Oh but we’re not together.” You blurted and your eyes turned big.

“Yet.” Fili said mischievously.

You rolled your eyes at him, Mahal, what were you getting yourself into?

“Very well then!” He reported and he rushed off.

You sat down and the burning question in your head was trying to get out.

“Can I ask you something?” You interrogated.

“Of course.”

“Do you know about the rumors that are being told about you and your brother?”

“I assume you mean the wretched ones, so yes, I do know about them.”

“Are they true?” You squinted your eyes.

Fili shook his head. “I promise you, it’s not true."

You sighed in relief but not fully convinced. "I have no idea how these stories came into the world." He continued. "Kili was the most reckless one of us two, and I can’t say I’ve never done anything that Mahal wouldn’t approve of...” Fili admitted. “But I never woke up with a different girl in my bed every morning and I’m most definitely not seeing you as an easy catch.”

You smiled to yourself and looked down. “It would be surprising if you did.”

“Alright. Can I ask YOU question?” He queried while he gazed at you.

You leaned forward on the table. "Go for it.” you challenged him.

“Look, i'm not proud of the way how I approached you yesterday and I'm surprised you didn't ran away. You're definitely not feeling the same as i do, so, why waisting your time with me?”

"I'm going to be honest with you, i wanted to see who you really are. I thought you were different, nothing more than that." You confessed.

"Because of these stories?" He questioned as you nodded slowly.

"You said you thought I was different. So what do you think of me now?" Fili crook his brow and grinned.

"Let's not get ahead of yourself.” You raised your brows and leaned backwards.

“What a pleasant sight!” Hoìn marvelled when he walked by your table. “You two remind me just of his father and mother, they came here by a lot ya know.” You shared a short look with Fili. “Aye, this lad is a keeper!” He concluded with a big smile to you as he walked away to another table. You could do nothing but laugh, and felt a flutter in your chest and you noticed Fili's cheeks colored red.

“So you are more than familiar with this place.” You hinted.

“My father used to take my mother here when he was still alive.” Fili recalled. "So to me, this has been always a special place. Kili and I come here by a lot.”

“That’s such a sweet story.” You sympathized.

“Next time you should meet my brother, you would love him. If there’s going to be a next time of course.”

“I would love to meet him. And we shall see about that next time.” You teased. Fili chuckled.

Myla walked by with the wine and stew and placed it in front of you."Here you go dears!" She said sweetly.

“Thank you!” You both said in unison.

You both were enjoying the meal. Sharing a laugh and anecdotes about one another.

When you both were done you thanked Hoìn and Myla and left ‘The Joyful Goat’.

Fili suggested to walk you home, which you tried to refuse kindly. But Fili insisted.

You arrived at your home which had three steps in front of the front door, and while you stood on the highest step, Fili stood on the ground. You found your key and put it in the lock as you turned around to face him.

"Well, surprisingly you are not that terrible as I thought you'd be." You joked which he answered with a chuckle. "I had fun, and thank you for taking me out." You acknowledged.

"You really speak your mind don't you?" Fili laughed. "But, I had fun too."

You chortled softly. "Goodnight Fili". Shared one last glance and turned around to step inside your house.

“Wait!" Your head turned around from the sound of his voice. "When can I see you again?” He asked with a questioning gaze, and your heart melted a little.

“Well, let’s see about that.” You winked and closed the door behind you. Fili stood there for Mahal knows how long, maybe hours, debating if this was a yes or a no.

—————————

It’s been a few days since you last saw Fili. You really let him baffled, not giving him any closure. You told Alava about it, and she couldn’t believe you let him go.

Today you were busy helping a client who wanted a bouquet of roses and white lilies when you saw a familiar face entering your shop.

You looked up at him, smiling as if you knew he was up to something. The client gave you your coins and stepped away to leave the shop which was almost empty now.

“So, here we meet again.” You tittered, trying not to seem too eager while bundling a bunch of red lilies with a white ribbon.

“Yes, indeed we do.” He smirked he said as he walked towards you. “And you’re not alone I see.” You noticed as you looked curiously behind him.

“Yes, Y/N, this is my brother Kili.” You immediately recognized him as he stepped closer to you. “Nice to meet you Y/N!” He said as you shook his hand. “Likewise Kili!” Sure he was handsome just like his brother, but with a much more darker complexion. You never got the chance to study his face from up close. This was the cheeky one.

“So, this is the girl that you’ve been talking about!” Kili said amused." You chortled, "I hope i am!"

“I always wanted to meet the person who rejected my brother!” Kili joked. Fili punched him on the back and you could only laugh at the brotherly chemistry.

“Oh I did not exactly reject him.” You folded your arms and looked at the two brothers. “I just kept things open.”

“And can you close it now?” Fili said amused.

“I’m not closing anything right now.” You provoked.

"Oh Fee." Kili said. "I hate to break this intimate moment but we have to go now, you know how Dwalin thinks about being late for sparring time."

"Yes of course, let's go. Y/N I'll see you around, I hope." Sharing one last gaze with you and the two brothers walked towards te front door. Your eyes crinkled. “I hope so too.” Just before Fili closed the door he looked at you one last time, while you pretended no to see him. Trying to keep yourself occupied with the next bundle of lillies you could not resist to peek when he closed the door behind him.

Months have gone by, and Fili visited you almost every day. You even found yourself in the royal halls at times, and you were mesmerized every time you entered. Talking and blabbering about everything. Every time you saw him you became more and more fond of him. You could say he really was your friend, as well as Kili. Fili seemed to have let go of the whole 'One' thing and accepted the fact that you would never be a couple. That still didn’t mean he wasn't into you, sometimes annoyed by his ambiguous comments.

Today you were sitting in an open field with Kili. A place you visited ever since you were little. While sitting underneath a big oak tree you felt a warm breeze running over your skin.

“Where’s Fili?” You wondered.

“He had some important business to do with our Uncle, heir stuff probably.” Kili answered.

“Y/N I was wondering, how exactly did you meet Fili?” Kili wondered while he was lying down next to you, chewing on a piece of grass.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Wait, hasn’t he told you about it?” You mouthed.

Kili placed his arms underneath his head. “He didn’t tell me much about it, just that you two bumped into each other on the street.”

“What! He really told you that?” You chanted and sat right up.

“What happened then?” Kili asked, leaning on his elbows.

“Well, I was working in my shop just like every other day and suddenly he stood right in front of me asking me to court him!” You uttered.

Kili’s mouth fell open. “You’re joking right?” You shook your head while chuckling and he bursted out in laughter. The loudest you’ve ever heard. Tears welled up in his eyes. You could do nothing but join the laughter.

“Even I would never do something like that!” He exclaimed while drying his eyes. Kili couldn’t stop laughing. "Oh Mahal, so this idiot really likes you."

"So it appears." You nodded. “But I’m glad I went out with him even though the feelings weren’t exactly mutual, because now I have two amazing friends.”

“Yes I’m glad you did.” Kili confirmed, and you two lay down again, staring at the sun.

"Kee?"

"Mhmm?"

"About what I just told you, please don't let it go hard on him."

"Don't worry about it." Kili grinned. "I will."

You slapped him on his chest as your laughter followed.

“What’s so funny?” You heard footsteps on the tall grass, you recognized the voice in an instant when the person sat down next to you.

“Oh nothing Fee.” Kili tried to say trying to hold in his laughter. “Just thought about that time when you asked Y/N to court you when you never even met her once!” Kili joked and Fili’s cheeks turned crimson.

“I’m sorry Fee, I had to tell him.” You tittered.

“Alright alright, that happened ages ago!” Fili tried to brush it off.

The three of you lay down again, with Fili in the middle.

“So where have you been all day?” You asked curiously while you lay on your side, leaning your head on your hand.

“Yeah what have you been doing?” Kili repeated as he furrowed his eyebrows.

Fili looked at you, squinting his eyes from the sun. “Why so nosey?”

You shrugged. You knew why.

“Well, since Thorin complained about me not having a wife yet, he set up a meeting with a princess, a human nonetheless.”

“And? How did it go?” You spoke slightly bitter. You didn’t even notice the jealous tendency in your chest.

“Thorin was enthusiastic, but only for the sake of the Blue Mountains, not for love. She was beautiful, intelligent and thoughtful.” He said while staring at the sky. The envious sting in your chest became more painful.

“But?” You questioned and raised a brow.

“She wasn’t you.” He answered, gazing into your eyes. You smiled tender.

You didn’t really know where to look while trying to think of something witty to say, but nothing came to your mind.

“I honestly don’t understand why you two are not together.” Kili interrupted, you almost forget he was there too.

You both sighed, staring to the blue sky. "Excuse me, I have to go." Fili said as he stood up and walked away on the grass towards his pony. "Fee! Where are you going?" Kili yelled but Fili didn't answer. He jumped on his pony and rode away as you both watched him from afar.

That night you were laying in bed and you couldn't sleep. Your mind were like one giant cobweb of thoughts. Was he angry with you? The thought of him being with someone else terrified you. He was the only one who ever understood your sarcasm. You also thought about that time when he helped a kid when he fell down and scraped his knee. Or that time when you walked upon him shirtless when you visited him in the forges last week.

Or how is moustache moves when he speaks. And that dimple. Suddenly you loved everything about him and every little thing he did seemed more and more attractive.

In an instant you sat right up in your bed. And one main thought shot through your head. You loved him. "I love him." You repeated but speaking out loud this time. "I must tell him now."

So you kicked away your sheets, put on your easiest shoes put on your olive green cloak, threw open your front door. And there Fili stood, with his fist in the air from an attempt to knock. Was he feeling something too or was this a coincidence?

"I love you Fili." You grabbed his face and gazed in his eyes. "I already have from the start but I was too blind to see it." You gently intoned.

You gave him no chance to answer as you placed your lips on his. He answered your kiss and buried his hands in your hair.

You pulled back and placed your forehead to his.

“You are my One, you’ve always been.” You confessed. He brushed his thumb over your lower lip.

“I love you too Y/N.” He told you. “So would this be an appropriate time for me to ask to put a courting braid in your hair?”

You chuckled. “Yes, you may now.” You nodded as you bit your lower lip. “Come inside.” You said softly.

He followed you inside and closed the door behind him. Standing in your small living room, smiling as you turned around with your back towards him. He fiddled with your hair as he put a small bead at the end of the braid. You turned around to face him again and placed your arms around his neck as he put his arms around your middle.

“For someone who always knows what she wants, you were pretty oblivious." Fili spoke with a soft voice. "When did you realize?" He questioned.

"Five minutes ago." You laughed. He looked approving."Well, I'm glad you did."

"Let's go tell my uncle." He hummed.

You giggled. "It's past midnight."

"Wait, let's tell him tommorow." Fili agreed.

"I hope he won't kill you."

"He won't." He said with a smirk as he kissed you once more.