#and insists on bringing him soup or flowers or whatever to his room

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

Steddie Flower Shop / Tattoo Parlor AU

Thanks everyone for the continued warm reactions! I love hearing what you guys are thinking so feel free to reach out!

Part One I Part Two I Part Three I Part Four I Part Five I Also on AO3!

The first month celebration seemed to open the floodgates on Team Tattoos and Team Flowers (as Robin affectionately named their now fairly active group chat) seeing each other outside of work. It wasn’t always all four of them but Steve would start bringing over lunch to eat with Eddie when he picked up his order or Robin would stop by with coffees after doing a run. Chrissy would go over to the tattoo parlor when she needed a break from heavy metal while doing bank reconciliations. 

Steve was in the studio alone on a no client day to get some sketching done and other small things around the shop. Robin had elected to avoid the winter weather and stay at their apartment. 

“Hello! I come bearing lunch!” Eddie called out as he swung open the door. 

After his first formal visit to the tattoo parlor, Eddie had gotten more comfortable waltzing in when the shop was slow. Steve was happy to see Eddie more as he slowly wore down the stubborn metalhead. Robin had started dropping some pretty heavy hints that Steve should just go for it and ask Eddie out but Steve wasn’t quite sure he was ready. As much as Steve was learning Eddie was different, he reminded Steve of the counterculture guys at some of his old studios. Steve couldn’t quite shake his insecurity that Eddie still thought he didn’t have any business running a tattoo parlor. Of course this didn’t stop Steve from becoming more and more obsessed with the man as they became something approximating friends. They even started giving each other small tokens. Eddie would find some cool rock or a weird stamp or something equally random and leave them on the reception desk when he stopped by to rap his knuckles on the desk and tell Steve whatever important fact he’d learned that he “couldn’t possibly just share via text, Steve, the delivery is half of the point.” Steve would always laugh, shake his head, and get back to whatever he was working on before Eddie burst through the door.

After Steve had amassed quite a collection of Eddie’s found treasures, Steve felt like he needed to reciprocate. Eddie had told Steve about his collection of heavy metal tapes for the De Lucas’ van so the next time Robin dragged Steve to a thrift store he scoured the tape offerings for something that he could give Eddie. After sifting through the options for so long that even Robin had gotten bored of shopping, Steve decided on Voices from Hall & Oates. It was just cheesy enough he could play it off as a joke if Eddie made fun of it but it also had some absolute classics Steve loved. And if they happened to be love songs, well, the 80s were a love song filled decade, it couldn’t be helped.

“Munson! Welcome!” Steve called as he walked out of the back office. “Whatcha got for me?”

Eddie situated himself on the couch that he continued to insist he hated and Steve sat in one of the nearby armchairs and started setting out food. 

“Grilled Cheese and Tomato Soup, Steve-o!” Eddie said as he stooped into a low bow and spread out his arms to show off the offerings on the coffee table.

“This is so good, holy shit,” Steve said as he started wolfing down the sandwich. He should probably work on his table manners but hopefully Eddie didn’t mind. “Where’d you get this, dude?”

“Oh, uh, I made it,” Eddie looked a little embarrassed to admit it.

“Seriously, dude? Unfair,” Steve said.

“Unfair, why?” Eddie asked.

“Well you have the whole flower thing and you’re good at cooking? That’s like a whole first date package, man,” Steve’s mouth moved quicker than his brain could tell him to shut up and run into the nearest snow bank. “Not that, that’s, I mean–”

“Thanks, I think?” Eddie cut Steve off. “I owed you one.”

“Oh wait! That reminds me, stay here.” Steve ran off to the back room to pick up the cassette tape. “I got you this, if you ever feel like diversifying the van’s musical options.”

“You got me a tape?” Eddie looked skeptical. Steve couldn’t figure out if that was a good thing or not.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not a big deal, but it’s Hall & Oates. I play them a lot at the shop. They’re kind of chill and I figured maybe if you ever wanted a change of pace, or whatever.”

“Steve, I know who Hall & Oates are.”

“And you hate them. Listen, it was a silly idea,” Steve said as he went to grab the tape back from Eddie.

“Nope, you already gave it to me, no take backs!” Eddie said as he jolted upright and nearly sprinted across the street. Steve was left a little aghast as he went back to the tomato soup Eddie had apparently made him. This was getting out of hand.

The next day Steve got to his studio and saw a square package waiting on the stoop.

Payback, Harrington. – EM

Steve opened the package to find a Led Zeppelin record. He knew he’d heard the name before but other than that he didn’t recognize it. It had a picture with what looked like an explosion and some historical photo.

“What’s that, Steve?” Robin asked as she walked in.

“Oh I guess Eddie left it?” Steve said and flipped the album around to show Robin.

“Ooooo, Eddie, huh?” Robin teased and wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh, get the Led out. Rad.”

“What?” Steve had no idea what Robin said.

“Get the Led out? Led Zeppellin? The band whose record you’re holding?” 

“None of that means anything to me, Robin.”

“You’re such a square, Harrington.”

Steve elbowed Robin but went to put the record on. “I guess it’s good to have some emergency rock?” Steve joked. He wasn’t sure what he thought about the band as the record started spinning.

“You’re ridiculous. You’ll have to set it off to the side so someone doesn’t put it on while you’re in the middle of a tattoo and scare you out of your trance,” Robin said. 

She told Steve that sometimes he seemed so fully wrapped up in his work that she would get nervous that he’d spook at any sudden or unexpected noise. He knew she was fully kidding but Steve decided it would be a funny gag to get a frame to put the record in. He used some of the window paints Robin had got for the studio windows to scribble “Warning! Don’t let the Led out!” Robin thought it was the corniest thing she’d ever seen. That didn’t matter once Eddie saw it and laughed for a full thirty seconds.

Eddie started coming to visit Steve when De Lucas’ closed up and Chrissy left for the day. Steve noticed Eddie picked days where Steve didn’t have afternoon clients and was mostly just sketching and doing shop maintenance stuff. Sometimes Eddie would bring Steve coffee or a snack and other times Eddie would just bring over a book and read on the couch while Steve worked. Steve started joining him on the couch and Eddie would read out loud while Steve sketched. Those were Steve’s favorite days.

“Great engines crawled across the field; and in the midst was a huge ram, great as a forest-tree a hundred feet in length, swinging on mighty chains. Long had it been forging in the dark smithies of Mordor, and its hideous head, founded of black steel,” Eddie was reading while Steve was snuggled into the other arm of the couch working on his iPad.

“Oh! Mordor! I know this–it’s in that song from that band’s record you gave me!” Steve interrupted.

“Holy shit, you actually listened to it before you put the album in jail?” Eddie 

“Of course, dude! Sorry I’m not much of a reader, what book is this?” Steve answered.

“It’s Lord of the Rings, it’s a pretty classic fantasy book,” Eddie looked over at Steve. “There’s actually a decent movie adaptation if you ever want to have movie night.”

“Oh, yeah, I think Robin likes that movie, it has elves, right?” 

“Yes, Steve, there are elves,” Eddie laughed.

“Sounds fun!” Steve stretched out and kicked Eddie’s thigh accidentally. Eddie reached over and pulled Steve’s feet onto his lap, placed his book back on Steve’s shins. Eddie snuggled back into the couch and Steve stifled a laugh. “I don’t think you’re allowed to make fun of this couch anymore, dude.”

“It’s still obnoxious even if it also happens to be unfairly comfortable. Do you want me to keep reading or do you want me to stop so I don’t spoil it? I honestly kind of thought you weren’t paying attention,” Eddie said.

“Keep reading. I’m enjoying it.”

“Alright Stevie,” Eddie responded. “founded of black steel, was shaped in the likeness of a ravening wolf; on it spells of ruin lay.” Steve listened to the familiar timbre of Eddie’s voice and settled back into his work.

“Hey, Eds,” Steve started as he finished up his work. “Have you ever thought about getting, like, an actual tattoo?”

“What do you mean?” Eddie shut his book and pushed Steve’s legs off his lap.

“You know like the kind of stuff I work on? Hang on, I don’t think I’m explaining this very well. Let me show you.” Steve could tell something was off. He knew his work wasn’t Eddie’s style but he kind of couldn’t stop thinking about tattooing Eddie. Steve thought Eddie was absolutely breathtaking and he wanted to give him something equally pretty. Steve hadn’t realized it at the time but he was absolutely thinking of Eddie everytime he sketched one of the bouquets he brought over. He flipped through his iPad and found the drawing he was working on of the bouquet Eddie had made for their one month anniversary. “Something like this? Maybe? I dunno.”

“What is this?”

“It’s just a sketch I did of one of the bouquets I picked up? The one from the day we went to the Hideout?” Steve explained.

Eddie took a closer look at the sketch and Steve couldn’t read the expression on his face. “Oh shoot, is that the time? I gotta get back to my side of the street.” Eddie abruptly stood and walked out, leaving Steve to wrack his brain as to how he fucked it up this time.

Steve was confused. He didn’t know what he did to make Eddie leave. His face was hot and he felt tears well up in his eyes. He’d thought Eddie was different. That he was at least starting to understand Steve. He must have missed something. Obviously, Eddie, with all his metal tattoos, was absolutely not the kind of guy who was into floral tattoos and in fact maybe judged Steve for his style. It was probably stupid to offer to tattoo him. Steve never did that. Robin bugged him as soon as he started tattooing clients until he had to explain that he just couldn’t. He didn’t want to mess up and have someone he was actually close to hate something that was relatively permanent. He knew it was sort of a weird hang up for a tattoo artist but he couldn’t get past his mental block. That was until he met Eddie. Something about Eddie and his flowers had so captivated Steve.

Steve closed up his shop on autopilot. He put everything away for the night and locked up trying to put the metalhead across the street out of his mind. He kept his head down as he walked out to avoid seeing De Lucas’ and Eddie’s stupid van. He managed to mostly keep himself together on the L until he got home. Thankfully Robin wasn’t home yet so Steve pulled on his softest sweatshirt and rolled himself into a tight blanket cocoon and stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

***

Part 7 now available here!

Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list! I’m sorry for the angst! I promise there’s a happy ending coming!

Also if you’re enjoying my writing I have a Warped Tour AU up on my AO3 if you’re interest! It’s available here.

Taglist: @a-little-unsteddie @maya-custodios-dionach @eboyawstenn @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @thehumblefigtree @throwbackthrowaway @micheledawn1975 @blisschaoss @vecnuthy @grimmfitzz @spectrum-spectre @croatoan-like-its-hot @momotonescreaming @beckkthewreck @korixae @citrus-owl @baron-zemo-trash @sleepdeprivedflower @nuagedemots @lololol-1234 @books-and-current-obsessions @acrolius @mightbeasleep @vi-an-te @gregre369 @i-must-potato @vampireinthesun @steveisabicon @child-of-cthulhu

[luanna801]

I feel like a thing we don’t talk about enough in the context that Jack LIVES in the asylum is: If Lucy had accepted his proposal, was he going to bring her back to live there with him???

Like, I grant you it’s fully possible he was planning to buy a perfectly normal house with a proverbial white picket fence, but this is Jack “brought a lancet to propose” Seward, and I think it’s just as likely that he either hadn’t thought this through, or else thinks it’s Perfectly Normal Behavior to bring your brand new wife, a sheltered society girl, back to your asylum to share your Brooding Goth Asylum Lifestyle.

Would their kids have been raised there?? Not just in any asylum, but the asylum with security fiascos second only to Arkham? The asylum where one of his patients successfully ran into his study with a knife and stabbed him???

Obsessed with the idea of Renfield escaping for the 159603th time and Jack having a mild heart attack when he finds him in the kid’s room, but Renfield is just holding Baby Seward very gently and singing “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” (or as it was known back then, I kid you not, “The Blooming Bloody Spider”) while the two of them play with an actual spider.

[catch-the-wind]

when reader is sick hc's p2

PART 2 IS FINISHED WHOO

here's a link to part 1 uwu

so i'm still brainrotting over this and i would like to date almost every character rn~ i probably won't add more to this unprompted but if anyone wants a part 2 just shoot me an ask! <3

tags: gn!reader, xiao x reader, zhongli x reader, ningguang x reader, beidou x reader, kazuha x reader, amber x reader, keqing x reader, venti x reader, scaramouche x reader, thoma x reader

xiao

this man is so awkward goodbye

he’s really popping into the kitchen of wangshu inn like mr. smiley yanxiao i need an order of almond tofu and uhh whatever the hell it is sick people eat

asks cloud retainer if there’s a medicinal thing she’s created and hey can you fix my s/o

meanwhile his s/o is like xiao- xiao- XIAO- it’s a COLD i’ll SURVIVE, stop leaving me to find solutions and just come cuddle

so xiao cuddles <3 he’ll read to his partner but it’s likely he’s also just sitting there in silence holding his s/o

he likes the companionship, doesn’t talk much. comfy silence all around

his partner probably falls asleep on him at some point but he’s okay with it

he probably watches his partner while they rest and he’s super frowny because he hates seeing them in pain :(

but also the gentle forehead kisses while his partner rests <3

he tells zhongli that he needs time to be with his s/o while they’re ill. he makes it sound like his partner is dying which is...overdramatic but also he just wants to dote on them and make sure they’re okay

he asks verr goldet what things a sick person might want while his partner rests and then he tries to kinda sorta subtly ask for help getting them

tries to dote on his partner subtly but he’s so grumpy all the time LOL

n e ways he gives his partner smooches and cuddles and that’s all that matters uwu

zhongli

he doesn’t even have to really say it to hu tao, she just knows he’s about to ask for a few days off. he does ask, ofc bc he’s following the protocols of social etiquette

he goes to his partner’s home or they’re in his for the entire time they’re sick

has a shopping list of foods for a sick person, also gets tea

has no mora to purchase anything on his shopping list so he hits up tartaglia LMAO

tartaglia comes w zhongli just to visit zhongli’s s/o

hu tao also comes to visit zhongli and co but he’s so wary of her because is she about to pull a prank- really she just brings him some tea he likes and wishes his s/o well <3 she probably sings to them too but it’s a little creepy if you listen to the lyrics LOL

this man is not reading his partner stories, they’re getting histories, pov morax. he knows so many little details that are lost in time but are kept safely in his memories

the man works out, tell me otherwise. he may choose his own body and he knows he has cake but the man works out and trains. he’s a god of WAR and he keeps himself in good shape. n e way he works out in the living room or backyard while his s/o is sick and he trains w just a shirt and pants and he’s so pretty aHEm i think my asthma is acting up again hang on

okay but muscles rippling and you can see it through the clothes that aren’t even that tight BUT BRO WHY ARE YOU GRUNTING SO MUCH PLEASE NO ONE ELSE DOES

would probably get his partner toys and such and one of them is a little dragon <3 give it smooches every day

he’s distracted when he answers hu tao or the adepti because he’s thinking ab his partner instead

ningguang

the frown on her face when she finds out PHEW

she takes her partner’s temperature with the back of her hand and she’s all frowny all day. ganyu is lowkey concerned bc what’s the matter with lady ningguang-

her partner stays in ningguang’s home and she’s working from home for a while <3 there are millelith guards and members of the qixing popping into her home office and even beidou once or twice. bei is also worried ab ning’s partner, but she’s doing the hearty slap on the back and the “get well soon!”

ningguang ordering food from wanmin and xiangling personally delivering it <3 xiangling and guoba are both showing up with some hot soup and guoba is there for cuddles pls he’s so cute

ningguang will read to her partner, probably tells them about her day and entertains small talk until they fall asleep

she cooks some of her qiankun mora meat and tries to make her partner soup <3 the millelith and the qixing have never seen their tianquan in a kitchen working before but she would only ever do it for the people she loves

keqing is in the corner quietly shipping while munching golden shrimp balls goodbye

i think ningguang respects ganyu too much to force her to run around for stuff but ganyu probably likes ning’s partner enough to do it anyway

ning and cuddles and temple kisses and she won’t give her partner smooches on the lips :( but she’s soft for them so they get cheek kisses and spooning them to sleep

beidou

she stays at her partner’s place while they’re sick because the crux might make them feel seasick instead

but she goes back and forth to the crux to get her things and take care of business and such. her crew probably loves her partner so they have things for bei to bring back <3

bei doesn’t even leave her partner’s town but she’s got sango pearls, cecilias, qingxin, cor lapis jewelry, dendrobiums (even though those are like. blood flowers. they’re pretty it’s fine) and many many fruits

xiangling comes by with food for bei and co and sticks around to hear beidou telling her partner stories about her time at sea

beidou is. she’s so buff okay. she carries her partner in and out of the room and to the living room or kitchen or brings everything to her partner and you can see how defined her muscles are bye i’m in love with her

we already know bei learned to cook a little bit from xiangling but beidou is absolutely learning to cook more while her partner is sick. xiangling is there giving her cooking lessons while beidou’s partner watches <3 bei with that look of concentration and she’s so quick with the knives too i’m- okay but her spoonfeeding her partner?? *chef’s kiss* ;)

beidou puts too much pepper in a dish and it deffo clears sinuses LMAO but she tried and it actually does taste very good if you can handle your spice 🤷‍♀️ i cannot so find me with a gallon of milk later

n e ways beidou cuddles her partner to sleep and falls asleep as soon as she knows they’re resting <3 many cuddles and many kisses, even if they insist not to because cooties will get u sick bei 🥺

visits bubu’s pharmacy to get her partner’s medicine herself but also has remedies from other places too! zhongli deffo helps her with some other gifts for convalescents so it’s historically, traditionally and socially acceptable

kazuha

is so worried omg

wherever his ass is, he’s going to his partner as soon as he finds out they’re sick. he’s so frowny and worried it’s almost cute but also,,,kazu it’s a cold, it’s FINE

he goes to collect qingxin and sweet flowers and stuff himself and makes his own poultices and soups and such <3

he shows up at his partner’s home with arms and buckets of flowers and herbs as soon as he possibly can. bei understands if he has to go tho, she gives him leave uwu

makes his partner soup and dried fish and gives them many smooches <3 they are not allowed out of bed LOL they just have to stay there and wait for him to dote on them

many many cuddles and smooches. he plays leaves and grass and recites poems for them he’s so cute <3 sigh, this man plays grass and i’m out here simping

also comes bearing gifts from wherever he was last tho. if he was on the crux, he’s probably got gifts from beidou and the crew even if they don’t really know kazu’s partner, they just know he’s happy and that’s what matters. if he’s not on the crux, his boss probably gives him leave and a gift or smth even if it’s just like a tea or a bottle of wine or smth

he’ll cuddle and be a blanket. but he’s also got fabrics that beidou picked up in inazuma and he uses that as a blanket for his partner <3

will tell his s/o stories of his childhood, his time wandering, his time with the crew, his work. anything they want to know or have questions about, he’ll tell them.

forehead kisses, temple kisses, holding his partner’s hand and pressing a kiss to the back of their hand ugh i love him

deffo gets sick because he can’t deny his partner smooches on the lips smh. and then it’s his partner’s turn to play nursemaid

the crew from the crux probably drops by to check on kazoo man and co. they bring some regional delicacies and blankets and their best cold remedies with a slap on the back for kazu and a gentler pat for his partner. like w ningguang’s partner, bei probably gives kazu’s s/o a hearty slap but it’s not enough to hurt them

anyway i’m in love with him

amber

she’s so worried she’s such a sweetie omg

she goes to her partner immediately and fusses over them before they have to gently tell her that they’re fine

she goes to collect sweet flowers and stuff and goes to ohm, albedo and barbara for help making medicines and such

doesn’t want to leave her duties unattended to but jean also knows that amber wants to be with her s/o so she tells amber that she has fewer duties for her <3

jean tells kaeya to go make sure amber is doing okay and doesn’t need help or anything so he drags ohm, diluc, albedo and lisa too LOL

lisa was planning on going anyway, she just used diluc to carry her books w this opportunity <3 albedo is just treating amber’s partner w meds and potions and things and lisa takes a peek at that too

she’s so sad she doesn’t have ohm’s super cold skin so she can’t be a human cooling pack for her partner </3 but she gives them many smooches on cheeks and foreheads and temples

barely resists giving her partner kisses on the lips bc she still wants to go to work but also wants to give her partner what they need and sigh. it’s a struggle for amber

she wears pajamas and cuddles with her s/o <3

cooks her partner some (fully cooked!!) meals, not her specialty steak. but she makes soup and goes to good hunter and gets good hot food there too

keqing

wants to take some time off to help her partner feel better but also doesn’t want to leave work. ningguang probably sends her home at some point because she’s fretting and working and stop feeling so bad keqing, you have sick days

she still goes to work but she’s just taking marginally shorter days sigh, she goes home early instead but brings work home so she can do it while sitting with her partner

wears leisure clothes when at home with her partner but the fact that she has clothes she doesn’t use for work is shocking LMAO the cat ears stay tho ;) catgirl always

ganyu comes by with keqing’s work, some wanmin takeout and a card and gift for her partner <3

xiangling hears that keqing is home with her partner while they’re sick and brings food over to keqing’s. she’s got extra golden shrimp balls for keqing. AND AGAIN. GUOBA CUDDLES ❤️❤️❤️

keqing feels so bad for not doing as much work, she’s making herself almost as sick as her partner </3

ningguang comes over one night with beidou while keqing is doing work in bed while her partner is resting and she sees keqing stressed as all hell. she just gives keqing some food and tells her to actually rest. soft!ning and bei being moms god i love them

okay but keqing tucking her partner in with a sweet kiss before retreating to her work in the corner, the lamps turned to the lowest they can possibly be because keqing refuses to leave her beloved but can’t not do work

keqing trying to cook food for her partner that isn’t meant specifically for survival but for taste is so cute. she’s trying to cook golden shrimp balls and soup and stuff and she’s not bad at it! she took a single night of giving her s/o hot tea and some wanmin soup before she learned the whole cookbook so she can be the one to cook for them <3

venti

he brings his partner wine u cannot tell me otherwise

he goes to diluc’s. not the tavern but straight up dawn winery and asks diluc if he can get a bottle of wine for his s/o and please please please he’ll go fight some of those slimes for you, please? with the big 🥺 and staying outside diluc’s window to beg bye

diluc just gives him the wine with a glare but won’t make venti do the commission <3 venti legit says “thank barbatos” and gives diluc an ~ehe~ before he gets ready to glide away. he turns around and asks diluc if he’s sure he can’t do the comm but diluc just glares at him all broody~

diluc comes by to check on venti’s partner too bc where does venti live- venti is just camping out at his partner’s place for now and feeding them and giving them wine and diluc just kinda goes a little pink but glares while he says “get well soon” and leaves a windwheel aster from near the winery

venti makes soup and many vegetable/fruity foods because “they’re good for you! have some wine with that ehe”

jean comes by at some point with barbara to check on venti and co. they’ve got other foods and some hydro healing for venti’s partner <3

ohm comes over to see his friend and brings him some medicines, food and wine. he gets to witness the anemo god get all soft and squooshy for his s/o it’s so sweet

he uses anemo to entertain his partner with some gentle breezes playing through leaves <3 but he also plays his lyre for them and gives them smooches in between and during songs because he’s a god ofc he isn’t gonna get sick, pay the bard with kisses. and where’s his gratuity :( 😗

he doesn’t read to his s/o but he does tell them stories with a musical accompaniment. sometimes his partner will fall asleep so he just smiles so softly and tucks them in and continues playing his lyre at the window while they sleep <3

but also brushing his partner’s hair back and giving them a kiss on the forehead please i love my beloved kinnie

n e ways venti forehead smooches and playing the lyre for his s/o <3 no cough meds ehe, just dandelion wine and whatever ohm gave him (that was, in fact, the cough medicine)

scaramouche

bro this dude looks like he CANNOT be assed but he really cares <3<3

his work schedule doesn’t change but he’s going to his s/o’s home super often with soup and food and medicine and extra blankets

even to his partner, scara looks broody but he always looks like that LOL

tartaglia finds out where scara is going and he brings food and toys and stuff too <3 scara later has to read one of the kids books tartaglia brought and he refuses to voices but it’s very sweet anyway

scara probably asks sandrone if his doctor brother can get him some good cold medicine but would never admit that he asked ohm for help LOL. ohm shows up anyway and finds out <3

can and will cook soup but that’s all you’re getting from him. the takeout he brought is most definitely not something he made, no sir’am he would never do something as soft as cook for them. soup doesn’t count, it’s oboiling water with some added flavor, shut up tartagalicious he’s not soft

will give his partner kisses only after he thinks they’re asleep. refuses to give them any affection besides a headpat or two and maybe one hug when he shows real concern. his partner isn’t quite yet asleep one time and then feigns sleeping when they hear scara’s whispered “i love you” and he presses a kiss to their forehead 🥺❤️

he takes off his hat inside the house but will go around with a blanket around his shoulders to mock his partner smh. the blanket is on his head like a hood and he fake sniffles with an almost derisive laugh but he gives his partner a real smile at the end <3

9/10 times will never admit that he’s soft unless it’s a Very Serious Moment but he’s a squishy dood for his s/o and his s/o only

will not read or sing to his partner but he’ll sorta cuddle if they ask very nicely and many times. it’s just kind of him sitting next to them and they kind of have to muzzle before he’ll move his arm for his own comfort LMAO

will bring his partner gifts and food, a few flowers but he’ll just claim he’s delivering it from someone else with a look of fake disgust </3 maybe like two of those are actually from other ppl and not him

when his partner is actually feeling really sick, he won’t be a big smol meanie and he actually looks so concerned~ his partner means a lot to him and he doesn’t want them to feel sick or in pain so he’ll cuddle them unprompted and rub their back, run his hand thru their hair, soft forehead and temple kisses and “i’m here, baby” and “i love you” and falling asleep with his partner tucked under his chin <3 he’s actually so sweet bye 😭

thoma

thoma feels so bad when his partner is sick. it isn’t even his fault but he feels so bad because he wants to protect them, even from tiny little germs 😭 i’m sorry u can’t be my immune system thoma it’s FINE

he asks to take off work and ayaka just kinda sighs but smiles and waves a hand to dismiss him bc yes ofc you can, simp

ayato just laughs when he sees this LMAO BYE

thoma’s partner stays at his home, in his bed or a guest room (idk if he has his own place or stays w the kamisatos as their literal live-in maid but anyway)

his partner gets his care, any doctors or caretakers around ritou, the medic from the crux, the kamisato family doctor- this man is using some of his favors for medicine and then cuddling his s/o, ugh i want to date him sm

both kamisatos come by with some food for thoma and co but poor ayato can’t even keep his grin contained, poor thoma is conditioned to be nervous ab what ayato feeds him LOL

he’s cooking for his partner, legit gives them a list of options and an “anything you want, my love?”

cuddles his s/o even tho they might protest but it takes like 0.2 seconds to stop protesting bc that man is comfy

tells his partner stories about what it was like back home in mondstadt and his journey to inazuma and why he’s there as well as his stories about all the different kinds of people he’s met

taroumaru coming w kozue to the kamisato estate to get some hot tea to thoma 🥺 and the cuddles and nuzzles from this great doggo for thoma before he turns to his partner too 😭 straight up jumps in the bed and licks their faces a little before nuzzling in for a hug

n e way thoma gives a lot of hugs and kisses and cuddles and i think he’s hella touchy-feely and misses home and treasures his partner even more because of it

my beautiful red shield ❤️

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part IX

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, all characters are adults.

Words: 1574.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V |  Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII

________

You didn't know what else to say, feeling ashamed. Who cared about your family circumstances? Definitely not Steve Rogers, a man you met just a couple of weeks ago and who knew nothing about you. Why did you say something like that in the first place?

You didn't wanna look at his face and see him feeling guilty because he didn't know how to comfort you. You didn't need to be comforted. You didn't need anything at all. It was just a simple cold, right?

Despite that, you suddenly started talking from beneath your blankets, "I have a younger brother. When he was born, we found out he was having severe asthma. His childhood was terrible, he had constantly been sick, I remember him being in and out the hospital all the time. Of course, because of his condition, my parents spent most of the time with him. He was just a little sick kid."

You hated yourself for talking, for showing something to Steve he shouldn't have known because he wasn't your friend, but you couldn't force yourself to stop.

"On the other hand, I am lucky to have good health. I didn't really got very sick, so, well, I didn't need help like my brother. So, I'm used to taking of myself. I'm a big girl, I don't need my mom to dance around me just because I have a cold."

Of course, you didn’t. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, and even of Steve didn't show up, you'd be alright by yourself. You'd just take your acetaminophen, and then everything would be ok.

You kept silent, staring at the inside of the blanket and wishing Steve would just disappear, leaving you to your misery. You didn’t see his face, and you were glad you didn't. What he must think about you? That you were craving for his attention like a spoiled kid? Shit, it was so embarrassing. You were an adult, for goodness sake!

"I don't know about you, but when I had a flu sachet, it would make me fall asleep really quick. And when I was feeling sleepy, I would start thinking about the things I loved most because I hoped I would see them in a dream." Instead of feeling ever more ashamed, you listened to Steve's soft voice and thought you were lucky it was him being here with you now. "It actually worked, and I have been having my best dreams when I was asleep, sick. What are the things you love most?"

Surprised, you looked up at him and saw the most gentle expression on a face of a guy you had ever met. Why did he look at you like that? Why was there no pity on his face? Why was it making you cry like you were a ten year old kid? Before he could see anything, you hid beneath the blanket again and kept silent for a couple of moments to calm down.

"I love lemon pies my grandma used to make me, and her garden. She had tomatoes and cabbage and strawberries that smelled like summer. I loved watering them nearly every day because I thought I was a little forest witch who lived in her pretty cottage in the woods."

You didn't know why you were telling him this, but Steve has a strange effect on you. Or was it cold? You had no idea, but it didn’t really matter. All you were thinking about was the way fresh tomatoes smell when you'd leaned down to water them, and the sound of bees flying above strawberry's flowers. Your grandma was taking care of her cabbage - a very capricious guest in her garden - and you could hear her working, cursing grandpa for making the patches too wide in that funny voice of hers. Then she'd stood up, wiped the sweat with the back of her hand, and called you to come back to the cottage because if was time for dinner. You'd run to wash your hands in a barrel of water near the big apple tree when grandma didn't see, and soon you were sitting with her, eating her famous cabbage soup and then having a piece of a lemon pie because you worked so well today.

You could almost feel the taste on the tip of your tongue.

By the time you woke up, Steve was long gone: it was the middle of the night, and instead of him you saw a thermos with a still warm chicken soup on a chair, waiting for you. He sent you a message that you could call him at any time of the day - or night - and that he wanted you to have a bit more sleep to get better. After you had a few more sips of his soup, you fell asleep again, feeling warm and fuzzy.

_______

The weekend went fast. It was the first time in several years you spent so much time in bed. Steve kept appearing at your door from time to time with a new bags of food despite you telling him you had your own, but he always insisted you should it something fresh and warm. Surprisingly, he wasn't the only one at your door: Thor suddenly showed up with his whole team, bringing you notes for the upcoming exams they collected altogether, apparently. Loki sent you a message if you needed anything, and Peter left contacted you on Instagram, leaving you links to games you could play so you wouldn't feel bored. Even Bucky gave you a call, asking if he could come and give you a few packs of Neo Citran for your cold, but you kindly refused: Steve literally brought you a yearly supply of this.

It was strange. Of course, when you were in high school, your friends grew worried about you when you had been sick, but there was nothing else to it. Wasn't it always like this? Nobody came to see you. Nobody brought you soup or gave you meds or anything. Despite feeling embarrassed, you realized you actually liked it when somebody was close to you like that. It was comforting seeing Steve popping up and not having to worry about how pretty you looked: he laughed when he saw you getting all shy because you were in your pyjamas. He said he definitely didn't expect you laying on your bed in an evening gown.

Before you realized it, you were already getting better. It was just a cold, really. Soon your throat was no longer sore, and while you were still sneezing, your temperature dropped down to normal, so on Monday you were ready to come back to school as planned. Funny enough, you no longer cared if you passed your exams, having 100%. You didn’t talk about it with Steve, but Peter was laughing like crazy about that when you told him.

Funny. They no longer looked so scary to you. They were just a couple of boys, weren't they? Regardless all those scary rumors and stuff, they were just guys. Maybe they were weird and stupid and a little bit scary because you didn't know them, they were still alright. Thor said it to you, didn't he?

Monday was Bucky's day, so, once you were done dressing, he nocked at your door: you were feeling a bit shy, watching him in that leather jacket and torn jeans he kept wearing the whole year around, apparently. Barnes looked like a teenage girl's dream. He smelled like cigarettes - although he said he was trying to quit - and pinewood. Just like Thor, he liked to skip classes he didn't enjoy much, but he was smart enough to pass the exams. Funny enough, he had a motorcycle.

Again, you wondered how come girls weren't coming from a city on a bus just to go see him.

"Are you sure you’re feeling better?" He asked you softly. "You can stay home today."

"No, no, I'm perfectly alright, thank you! How are you?" Smiling, you closed the door and hid the key in your bag.

"I'm good, thank you."

He didn't speak much, but as you walked in silence, you thought it was comforting - not talking at all and feeling good about it. While Bucky looked like a scary biker, in fact, his calm and friendly demeanor only helped you relax around him. Besides, it was funny how students seemed to give him way whenever they saw him, and you thought if Steve was the King, then Bucky was the Knight.

Before you went into the your classroom, he suddenly stopped you, "Listen, I wanted to say I have your stuff."

You blinked, "What stuff?"

You didn't give him any of your stuff. Actually, after Steve gathered you all in the student council room, you only met Bucky this morning for the first time.

"The stuff those freaks took. Your... your clothes, I mean." He muttered under his breath, and you gaped at him.

Your underwear. He found your bra and panties those guys took from your room.

"Wait... how?" Staring at Bucky who, apparently, was feeling a bit embarrassed talking about it, you thought how on Earth he got those things.

There was only one way he could, right?

"Bucky, was it you who beat those guys?"

It took him a couple of seconds to turn his face to you and then sigh, "Yes, it was me."

_________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki  @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic @mariatietacapitu @d3monslust @maybesandohnos @ibeatuptwinks @mangobangi @nectav @whatever-happened-to-the-ducks @teabutnerdy ​ @srrymydood @crazylittlereader2474

[otvlanga]

Would you be willing to write more for ralis? Or teldryn? Or revyn sadri??? 👀

Yess I’ll definitely writing more for Ralis and Teldryn soon. I haven’t done Revyn Sadri yet though so here u go! Sorry it took a while. (I literally had no clue that many people actually loved him as much as I do)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was married once to a pretty Dunmer woman when he was much younger, and much more naive to the ways of the world. They had hardly been courting for a few months before rushing to the Temple of Mara to be wed, tipsy on cheap Dunmer liquor and the rush of puppy-love. Their marriage lasted for a good decade, with Revyn absolutely head over heals for his beautiful wife within the first year. However, the entire relationship ended in shambles when Revyn heard along the grapevine that his wife was sleeping with other men. He was absolutely crushed and immediately confronted her, shouting and sobbing. He demanded they separate, despite her protests and insistence that she was never disloyal to him; he wouldn’t listen. and They had a quick, messy divorce, and never heard from each other again. The guilt chewed him up from the inside for years. To this day he isn’t sure if he was really right about her infidelity, and as a result, he presently struggles with a lot of self-doubt, and a slight fear of confronting people when he’s not sure if he’s right. He’s not a bitch though, if he knows that other person’s wrong then he’ll say whatever he damn well pleases.

He can be very impulsive at times, in a chaotic good way. He’s always trying to do the right thing, and stands on the side of helping others. He’s jumped into the middle of fights in between Dunmer and Nords in the grey Quarter, trying to pull them apart and stop anyone from hurting eachother, even if it meant he’d go home that night with bruises or a chipped tooth. He’s told off parents on the streets that were yelling at or striking their children, even if he knew it meant he might be the one getting yelled at or hit instead for butting into people’s business. He’ll  immediately holler for the guards and chase after a thief if he sees them steal something, even if he has no weapon to defend himself with when they fight back against him trying to detain them. His slight fear of confrontation flies out the window when he’s absolutely sure he’s doing the right thing, his morals won’t allow him to sit and watch as bad things happen. Even if it works against him, he’ll gladly take it knowing he did the right thing and made a difference in a world where evil brews in every cauldron and burns in every hearth.

He’s a very patient and mellow man. You’ll probably only hear him raise his voice once or twice a year when it isn’t necessary. However, even the most dormant of volcanoes will blow up eventually, and he’s no exception to that. He’s a  family man through and through, and will absolutely throw hands without question if a loved one is threatened or hurt. Doesn’t matter if his spouse is the legendary Dragonorn of legend, he’ll punch a creepy perv in the face for touching them without consent. He’ll fight the parents of the kids that bully his kids, he doesn’t give a fuck. When the disrespect for his family shows, the gloves come off. Even if he is kinda scrawny.  (look I know he doesn’t seem like he’d ever hit someone, but there’s just something so funny about a skinny little shop keeper absolutely wrecking someone for being an asshole to his family. it just makes me smile)

Gardening is his favorite hobby. He loves plants of all kinds, and has as many in pots that he can fit in his house. His yard probably has tons of flowers, and overgrown bushes and trees that the Jarl always tries to get him to chop down, because the roots ruin the foundations of surrounding buildings. He’s a mushy romantic guy at heart, and would probably clip fresh flowers from his garden for his s/o every week

He makes some really good soup and stew. He’s alright when it comes to cooking roasts and other types of food, but it’s really the soup and stew where his talent shines. He’s lived alone in his shop for a long while, and the winters in Windhelm are brutal. Putting a good chicken stew over the fire to simmer for a few hours keeps his home toasty warm longer than roasting a pheasant or goat haunch would. He knows a handfull of traditional Dunmer recipes as well, even if he’s been away from his homeland for so long. Him and Ambarys don’t get along so well, but they try their best to set aside their differences to prepare a feast together at the Cornerclub on Dunmerer holidays.

There’s a handful of Dunmer in the Grey Quarter who don’t like him, simply because he doesn’t hate the Nords like they do. He’s friendly to everyone who enters his shop, and will sell and buy from them no matter if they’re a Dunmer, Nord, Altmer, etc. He’s been accused of being a “sympathizer” and “traitor’ by some of his neighbors. Most of these rumors are spread by Ambarys. They were close friends in the past, but had a petty falling out over Revyn giving his last bit of gold to a Nord woman to get a carriage home to Whiterun after she was robbed. She had said she came to visit the Temple of Talos, but got stuck up in an alley by a cloaked man, and he stole her coin purse and her jewelry. Ambarys scolded Revyn for “being so easily fooled”, claiming that the woman was obviously lying to him just to make a fool out of a naive Dunmer for her own entertainment. Revyn was having none of that, and told Ambarys that if he had so little room in his heart for people in need, then he didn’t want a spot for himself in it. Revyn knows his people have been wronged, and abused, and shunned by the Nord people, but he refuses to admit defeat to the bad people in the world, and allow himself to believe they’re all bad. He’s an optimist like that. 

He’s always willing to support someone if they’re upset or angry. He’s got a real talent for talking people down from yelling fits of rage, and comforting people bawling their eyes out until they don’t feel the need to cry anymore. He’s a total optimist, and refuses to let anyone shit on their own future before it even happens. He’s a firm believer in “good thoughts bring good things” and always advises people to surround themselves in good energy, and project it to others if they want to receive the same. Likewise, he understands that a positive outlook won’t fix everything, and is never opposed to hugging someone for as long as they need it, or lying in bed with his s/o in his arms when they’re having a terrible day. 

[froggy-frogz]

Sick!Avengers x Reader

A/N: I wanted to do something for everyone that's following me because I see that a whole bunch of people are following me and, it means a whole lot! So, here is my little project for everyone! I'll be including; Thor, Loki [cause why not :)], Steve, Bucky, Bruce, Natasha, Peter, and Sam!

 -Sick Thor -

+ When Thor's sick, he thinks he's dying, and he needs constant attention.

+ This man is unaccustomed to getting sick, so he probably thinks he's dying.

+He won't want you near him, so it will take you a few hours to convince him to let you help him.

+ When he finally caves, you bring him soup and have him sit up so you can feed him.

+ Thor protests against this. 

+ "The God of Thunder does not need any help to eat soup,"

+ You still feed him the soup.

+ Once he's feed, and you set the bowl aside, you're instantly in his bed.

+ You coddle him in any way you can; running your hands through his hair, massaging his shoulders, peppering kisses on his face.

+ He protests again, but once you assure him that you aren't moving from your spot, he quickly shuts up.

+ If you play with his hair for too long, it will knock Thor out, and well, sick Thor sleeps for hours on end.

+ You can't help but take pictures of the sleepy God.

+ Once you're sleepy enough, you join him in the realm of the unconscious

- Sick Loki -

+ Unlike his brother, Loki will demand that you take care of him, but in his own 'nice' way of asking.

+ He likes being pampered by his s/o, it makes the sickly God secretly happy whenever he does get sick from time to time because he knows you will pamper him to the best of your extent.

+ Loki however, will insist that you don't kiss him on the lips so the risk of you also getting sick will lessen.

+ To be honest, you won't be leaving his side for the entire time he's sick unless it's a bathroom break.

+ Is either of you hungry? Loki will magick some food for you. Do you want to watch some TV? He'll flick it on to your favorite show.

+ The truth is, he just wants you to hold him until he gets better, he thrives in all the attention you give him.

+ He does understand if you need a break from his clingy ass, but once you're back in his bed, you better bet that he's going to be holding onto you.

+ If you get sick because of him, Loki is going to make sure that you 1000% more attention than you gave him, and that seems like it'd be hard to beat, but not for Loki.

-- Sick Steve -

+ Thanks to that super-soldier serum, Steve hardly ever gets sick. 

+ But when he does, it doesn't take long for him to get better.

+ When you insist that you take care of him, Steve is going to protest.

+ "[Y/n], I'll only be sick for a day or two, I'll be fine, plus, I don't want you to get sick too."

+ He caves when you won't move from his room, and he's too weak [funny, isn't it, picture a Captain American who can't even get out of bed because of how sickly he is] to try to get you out of his room.

+ He won't let you cuddle him for a few minutes until you pout enough that his heart tugs and he opens his arms for you to climb in next to him.

+ Honestly, it's just going to be cuddles, cuddles, cuddles until Steve gets better.

+ He promises once he gets better that you're going to get a special breakfast in bed for taking care of him.

+ What can I say, Steve is a gentleman, and he wants to show you that he's grateful for you. 

+ When Steve falls into a deep sleep, you can't help but 'awe' at how cute he is. 

+ Despite his pale face, and the sickly red tint to his cheeks, he's still as adorable as ever.

+ After a day or two of lots of sleep and soup, Steve is good as new, and oh boy, that breakfast in bed was worth getting sick from him.

- Bucky - + I see Bucky as wanting to be babied when he gets sick.

+ Honestly, this poor baby has been through so much, that when he's in such a helpless state, he only wants to be held by you.

+ Like Steve, Bucky doesn't tend to get sick, so when he does, make the best of it, because it's a side of him you won't get to see often.

+ He's going to be in such a sickly state, that he's going to be a bit hazy, so he's going to be telling you how much he's grateful and just how much he loves you /a lot/.

+ "[Y/n]?" "Yes?" "Did I tell you how much I love you?" "Yes, many times now babe."

+ Honestly, this is the only time that Bucky acts his age.

+ He's an "old man", and when he's sick, he really does act like it.

+ You're going to fetch everything and anything he needs.

+ Food, TV, a magazine, water, ibuprofen, basically everything.

+ When he finally gets better, and if you get sick, he will feel so bad.

+ This man will apologize again and again.

+ You will laugh and insist it's okay, and tell him that he can make it up if he takes care of you.

+ And, oh boy, does he.

- Bruce -

+ Bruce is going to be the toughest to convince to let you into his room when he's sick.

+ He gets sick now and then, but he is used to it.

+ He doesn't want to get you hurt, he is just so worried about hurting you.

+ He doesn't want to accidentally turn into the "other guy" because when he's sick, he has a looser hold on turning into Hulk.

+ It does take a while, but you finally convince him-

+ "[Y/n]- if I turn into him-" "Bruce, you aren't going to."

+ You'll read to him, as you cuddle up to him.

+ It helps him fall asleep.

+ When he falls asleep, you make food for him, as he probably hasn't eaten the entire he's been sick.

+ Bruce will make you shower after every day that you spend with him when he's sick, just to make sure that you can wash his sick germs off of you.

+ He won't let you sleep with him, that's where he'll put his foot down.

+ Not because he doesn't love you or trust you enough, but because he doesn't want you to catch whatever he's got.

+ When he gets over his sickness, he will tell you how grateful he is, with flowers, chocolates, or anything he can muster/think of.

- Natasha -

+ Natasha is a lot more laid back when she's sick.

+ She has no problem feeding herself, sleeping all day, watching movies all-day-

+ Hell, she sees a vacation from work.

+ However, she'll tell the other Avengers and Fury that you won't be working until she's better again.

+ Again, she just wants an excuse for you and her to spend some quality time together.

+ She's not clingy when she's sick, but if you want to cuddle and watch stupid rom-coms and laugh at them with her, she is very down for that.

+ Natasha is, again, going to be a lot less low strung than the others. She says if you get sick then she'll take care of you-

+ Sleeping with a sick Natasha is a fun thing in and of itself.

+ I see her getting cold when she gets sick so be prepared for her to either, hog all the blankets or, have to steal all the blankets in the Stark Tower.

+ When she's all better, she's going to plan something romantic, like a date, something small to show how much she loves you

- Peter -

+ Peter's going to want you over when he's sick, and well, could you say no to him?

+ He won't force you to stay, but he will ask if you want to sleepover.

+ Aunt May is fine with it too, she's just glad that she won't have to take care of + Peter full time, and if you don't mind, she'll even have you bring Peter's favorite fast food over.

+ Peter's clingy when he's sick.

+ He only wants to be held or hold you.

+ When he's sick, and thanks to his spidey senses, and his superpower, he doesn't get sick that often, he sleeps, a lot.

+ Like this boy will sleep all day.

+ Not that you don't mind, you got a free day off of school/work just to take care of him and that's what you're going to do.

+ You'll probably get sick, and Peter will return the favor in a heartbeat.

+ He'll get you anything you want because he loves you that much.

- Sam -

[I wanted to include him, I don't see too many fanfics for Sam :( ] + When Sam's sick, he's a lot like Bruce.

+ “Babe, it's not a big deal, just give me a day and I can get over this cold." "Sam- for heaven's sake let me take care of you-"

+ It'll take you a good hour or two of begging for him to finally cave.

+ He's not much different from when he's sick and from when he's not sick.

+Sam does get hungry though, really hungry.

+ I mean, he's laying down all day.

+ He will beg that you go get his favorite food for him.

+When you do, he'll give you a slick, snotty kiss on the cheek.

+ [It's a real mystery on how you got sick-]

+ Bucky is going to pop in just to tease him, and Sam loses his shit.

+ You have to kick Bucky out, for everyone's sanity.

+ Sam gets over his sickness, as promised, really quickly.

+ He does feel bad but not too bad that he got you sick.

+ "I told you so."

[brownandblackpearls]

📜 🖋 𝒞ourting with 𝒟r. 𝒟evorak (Julian x BlackReader) Pt.1

PART 1 SUMMARY:

You are a reputable, young beauty of means in Vesuvia, enjoying the winter courting season. An odd letter from an odd doctor finds its way to your door. You decide to respond.

─── Julian x black female reader

─── imagery + fiction

─── explicit smut

─── regency/historical/fantasy, courtship rituals, wealthy! MC, love letters, drama, handsome redheads

☾ next.

.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:・゜゜・．✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *

.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:・゜゜・．✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *

“Letters for you, Miss!” The scullery maid calls through the door.

You pause your writing, hesitating over your final line before turning to answer the call.

“Come in!”

The maid strides in with your daily mail on a silver platter. As expected, there is a heap of them from various suiters, all interested in seeking your hand. 

Some young, some old, some men, some women, some wealthy, and some positively blue-blooded, they are all voracious. Usually, your interest tends to wane after weeks and weeks of these greetings each season. The feeling especially set in after getting the particular suspicion that the lords, duchesses and dukes reaching out to you were having their own maids and butlers pen these letters, a copy of an inquiry to every potential young beauty in the region.

Consequently, many of the letters did not seem to genuine, remaining vague and distanced. Polite. 

Today, however, you find your lessons to be going slow. You decide to take a break and browse through the inquiries.

“Read through them for me, Delilah?” You call out the request as you lower your pen and clean your fingers in a warm, sudsy bowl of water on your desk. Drying your hands, you apply a spot of scented lotion on your fingers before smoothing it in and sliding your delicate gloves back on.

Delilah clears her throat, interested in the letters herself. 

You had no doubt the contents of the proposals would make waves throughout the household by sunset, but all of your staff were well-meaning. Just bored during these slow winter months. Honestly, you didn’t blame them for indulging in your courting dramas.

“Well,” Delilah begins, “Here is a letter from a Clarence Dunford Winthrop, hailing from Bremens County! He greets you and wishes you a very warm winter. ‘I am most pleased to write to you, Miss ------. I possess a healthy 34 years in me, and I seek the opportunity to meet and possibly enter the idea of courtship with you. Are the tales true that you are quite fine and b-buxom…? Goodness, how forward!”

You bite back a chuckle, allowing Delilah her scandalized looks and comments. After she’s thoroughly read Winthrop’s letter, she moves on to the next.

“This one,” she exclaims, “is from a young, Fiorentina Agosti, hailing from the Suthlands. She greets you amicably and wishes you a cozy winter. ‘Dear Miss ------, I am most delighted to write to you. I am a young woman of etiquette and good breeding. I am 23 years old, and yet for one so young, I am more certain of my passions and ambition than most grown adults. I seek the window of opportunity to introduce myself and my estate to you, as I am seeking to build my relationships with the nearby families of standing. I favor women only, as I’ll need a good, feminine eye to steer my estate towards a glorious future…what a boastful girl! I hear she is very attractive, though…”

Delilah goes on, examining letter after letter, reading aloud excitedly. Finally, she lands on a slightly ragged one, with a wax seal bearing no crest. Only a simple plant pattern with dried flowers and ferns trapped to the note.

“My,” Delilah wonders, flipping the envelope, “what a...humble introduction. Let’s hope that the contents are more splendid than the package they came in!”

Delilah adjusts the paper before her and begins.

“This one,” she explains, “is from a young…doctor…in the capital, near the palace. Oh, I think I recall this one? He is of great renown, but markedly odd. Hmm…He greets you fondly and asks if…if you have ‘seasonal allergies’...? He is more than happy to forward any herbs or teas that can help soothe inflammation…as a ‘show of good faith and possible friendship’—yes, very odd...He would like to know if you would be interested in accompanying him as an honored guest to his annual medical tools gala. There will be anatomical displays as well as guest surgeon speakers. Afterwards, he would like to take you to attend the opening night of a Vesuvian theatre drama, and then dinner. I—that sounds more exhausting than eventful. Goodness….“

Despite Delilah’s somewhat opinionated concerns, your interest perks at the oddness of the inquiry and the oddness of the planned date. You’re not so sure a medical gala will be of interest to you, as you’ve never attended one before, but you would like to try.  

“Delilah, please. No more commentary. What does the rest say...?”

Delilah harrumphs, moving on. “Well, he seems certain that you will find the engagement eventful and enlightening on his personage and he hopes to show you how good of a ‘provider he can be for a woman of your means’. He has ‘no grand heritage or acreages’, but he does have one of the ‘best practices in Vesuvia’ sporting several underling surgeons and plenty of business. New blood, instead of blue blood from the looks of it, if you ask me.”

You pause, thinking it over. 

The letter all sounded personally tailored and individualized for your reception, and clearly not something that was drafted up in the monotonous manner of house staff doing as ordered. 

The doctor seems very keen in meeting you... 

...You can’t help but feel the same.

“What is his name?”

Delilah levels you an uncertain look, noticing your choice, before sharing.

“The suitor signed off as a Dr. Julian Devorak.”

“Devorak,” you try out, rolling the name around in your mouth. 

It feels good.

“Thank you Delilah. You may place the letters in my box, save for the doctor’s. Please bring his to me, as well as my pen and good ink. I’ll also need the courting stationery.”

Delilah sours slightly before perking back up and doing as ordered quickly. She clearly does not approve of the choice but remembers her place, and knows that you are not one to be bossed. 

You wait until she delivers the stationery and retreats from your room before turning to your pen and paper, glancing at the letter from the doctor.

You perfume the parchment slightly, and use a fine, shimmering ink to dot the thick, French paper. You being to write, peering at your refined, swirling letters.

“Dear Sir…I take the first opportunity to acknowledge the flattering letter with which you have favored me…your discernment is of my deep interest, as well as your detailed plans for our hopeful outing. I consent to the date and time, and I look forward to your academic gala, as well as the theater and subsequent dinner. I implore that you arrive to chaperone me long before the sun is high in the sky, as we may need much time together that I am wont to spend with you. I will admit, I find you very curious and am interested to learn more of you. Warm Regards, ------.”

You finalize the paper with a neat calligraphy of your signature, before cleanly folding and pressing the letter. You choose a lovely envelope and seal it with wax before stamping and sending it off with Delilah to be mailed. 

“Hmm. Odd man,” you murmur to yourself, before moving on to send responses to the other requests of interest. 

The days pass by, eventful.

You go on several dates, some of note and some not so much. 

A few remain in your mind of potential. There was a beautiful countess seeking companionship after a split from her count…Nadia. Buxom and svelte, she was also the epitome of regality, and a brown-skinned beauty like yourself. You couldn’t help but feel drawn to her. 

There was also Asra, a mischievous but enchanting merchant king. You suspected a penchant for the occult on his end, but his beautiful face was too good of a distraction to focus on what may hide behind it. 

Then there was Muriel, a mysterious man with one of the largest claims of land in Vesuvia. He was fidgety and reserved, but you sensed a deep soul in him. 

Portia, the jeweler of the aristocracy, and her passionate stares paired with her down-to-earth jokes were enough to make you lower your guards and raise your spirits. 

Lastly,  Lucio. Oddly enough, he turned out to be the count that split with Nadia. You found his countenance alarming at first, only to later find a subtle charm in his passion for life, luxury and you.

All of them were far more interesting than the duds you’d went on dates with the past few weeks. 

Valdemar, the ambassador, had spilled soup all over your dress during a brunch while he spoke wildly about some conquest of his past. Then there’d been Volta, an odd little thing that insisted on trying all these unappealing, exotic dishes. There’d been Vlastomil, a weevil of a person who seemed more eager to gossip cruelly than to learn of you. And lastly...most memorably...there was Valdemar…you weren’t too sure what Valdemar did, but you were certain whatever it was, you wanted absolutely no part in it.

Weary from all the courting, you put your best face forward and hoped this day ended up being a delight instead of another disaster.

Foregoing flat-ironing, blowouts, presses, braids and twists this time, you decide to arrange for your servants to outfit you in lovely, long locs for the evening. You line them with fine silver trinkets, baubles, and rings before arranging your makeup to perfection and dressing in your finest, warm regards from the tailor.

Today was the day with the doctor, and you wanted to see exactly what kind of man he was. 

You donned a beautiful gown beneath your long, furred coat and lined your neck with a shining collar of diamonds. The winter snow would reflect stunningly off of them, as well as you.

Perfumed, plucked, and preened, you stand, assessing yourself in the mirror.

Vesuvia’s treasure.

You laugh, satisfied with the show stopping look, before leaving your room. You almost bump into a servant, rushing in to announce to you that the doctor has arrived with a carriage for you both.

“Let him in,” you say kindly, glancing out the window. Sure enough, a large, black carriage awaits. You lift your chest, square your shoulders, and raise your chin, allowing your lashes to lower and your aura to project.

You descend the stairs of your home into the grand hall, your eyes pinning the man that entered and awaited below, greeted politely by your staff.

‘Oh,’ you realize.

He’s gorgeous.

Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him. Tall, tousled, and terribly attractive, Julian Devorak watched you, open-mouthed, as if you are some sort of ethereal being that decided to grace his mortal existence. Descending the marble stairs, you feel him watch every step you take until you finally reach the landing.

You decide to close the distance and break the ice when he makes no move, still in awe of you. No need for those stars in his eyes, you think. You want him dazzled, not anxious or elevating you to something or someone that is inaccessible.

He is here in your home, after all. If you were inaccessible to him, he wouldn’t be.

“Hello Dr. Devorak,” you grace easily, smiling. “I’m ------. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“J-Julian, please, no need for extraneous titles,” he insists in a light stammer. “The pleasure is all mine, I can assure you.”

‘Aaw,’ you think to yourself, looking fondly at him. You’ve heard the line so many times before, but somehow, the words sound so genuine coming off of his tongue. You also like the sound of his voice very much. He sounds like how he looks, you realize.

Julian mistakes your silence for something bad, and rushes to fill it.

“I-I can’t tell you how…how long I’ve anticipated today.”

“Oh?” You ask, tilting your head in wonder. 

Were you the only one he was querying? That wasn’t possible. There had to be others. You respond pleasantly.

“I’m honored...’Julian’. But I’m sure an interesting man such as yourself is entertaining many acquaintances and possess many options.”

Julian blushes, surprising you. He shakes his head, fingers fidgeting at his sides.

“Not exactly,” he offers, leaving it there.

Your brow lifts in wonder. 

“Really...? But I loved your letter. I’ve reread it several times and am not afraid to say so. I find you quite striking.”

If possible, Julian blushes even harder at that, daring to hold your gaze. You see an odd sort of mask arise on him then, a false yet endearing bravado. You don’t call it out and simply watch as he does his best to disguise his rampant shyness.

“Ah...thank you madam! But not nearly so striking as one such as yourself! Why, I remember the feeling of when I first laid eyes on you. It was as if  lightning had struck me.”

Your eyes widen in pleasure, curious. 

“Such flattery! Where did this occur?”

Julian smiles triumphantly, happy to visibly pique your interest.

“The theater! I noticed you in your private box and it was then I decided that I must inquire to learn more about you.”

Your smile broadens, and you can’t help but step closer. Julian feels very comfortable and warm, even with the pomp.

“So that’s how you knew I’d enjoy the theater!” You exclaim. You had wondered about it since his letter first arrived. He could’ve invited you to any event, any activity, and yet he knew the theater was the right choice...

Julian tenses as you near, unsure of where to look. You can’t tell if he wants you closer or farther away. You decide to hold firm and give him time to sort it out for himself.

“I-uh…yes.” He swallows thickly. “Allow me to enlighten you of the day’s activities in the carriage…?”

You nod, realizing that your questioning is holding the both of you up from your date. You step back, cowed.

“Of course! My apologies.”

Julian swiftly holds out a broad, gloved hand for you to take. The gentleman’s escorting hold.

“No need to apologize,” Julian insists, guiding your offered palm gently, “I...I actually should be the one to apologize.” He bites his lip, thinking of some unknown err. 

You glance at him as the two of you step out the front door together, waved off by your staff.

“Whatever for…?”

Julian looks sheepish, rounding you both to the carriage door and opening it for you.

“I....well!”  He pauses, the words sticking in his mouth. “I was...told by a confidant very recently that the medical gala may have some things that are not...er, conducive for a romantic atmosphere. So I must ask...you’re not squeamish of leeches, are you?”

.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:・゜゜・．✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *

AN: Do not copy, repost, or edit. If you see someone do so, please let me know.

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[asstronauts]

Alphabet Soup

rating: t word count: 1.7k pairing: jemily summary: perhaps love is in the little moments more than the grand gestures. 26 times (among many) that JJ and Emily fall a little bit more in love with each other in the everyday, smaller moments.

read on ao3, if you’d prefer

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A - alphabet soup

JJ bought cans of alphabet soup for the boys when Michael first began to read, but Emily quickly found it much more entertaining to spell out words like "boob" or "ass" or "sex?" punctuated with a poorly modified capital P in place of a question mark. JJ had to shut it down when Michael asked what a "tit" was, and Emily panicked and mumbled something about birds.

B - bedtime

They would often unwind by reading before bedtime, and JJ found that Emily read through many foreign literature books. The nights she would fall asleep to Emily stroking her hair and reading aloud in words she didn't understand were the nights she felt most rested.

C - constellations

It was clear that Emily didn't actually know any constellations besides the Big Dipper and Orion. But when she laid on the grass with Henry and Michael, she made up stories in the stars about great heroes and the adventures they went on, and the boys fell in love with the night sky.

D - driving

JJ insisted on driving everywhere without the help of smartphone maps, which had gotten them lost on several occasions. Somehow it felt alright, when she had one hand on the wheel and one hand on Emily's leg, the windows were down, and her hair was streaming in the wind and reflecting the setting sun. Somehow it felt alright to be lost with her.

E - errands

For whatever reason, JJ made running any errand seem like immense fun. Buying groceries, getting gas, even sending a letter felt like an adventure when she was there. They'd only gotten kicked out of one grocery store — when JJ had knocked over an entire display stand of candy bars after running and jumping onto a shopping cart. They didn't regret anything.

F - forehead kiss

JJ wasn't that much shorter than Emily, but when the brunette pressed her lips to her girlfriend's forehead, JJ would feel the need to bury her face in Emily's neck to hide her blushing cheeks.

G - graveyard

On that day, JJ just needed space. So Emily took her to the flower shop the day before and drove her to the cemetery that morning and left her alone until she was ready. In the evening, they didn't speak, just laid with one another on the couch until JJ fell asleep in her arms.

H - horror movie

It was a cheap jump scare, but it made JJ scream out and grab Emily's arm, prompting the older woman to laugh at her. JJ responded with a playful slap, and Emily had to kiss her to reaffirm her love. They didn't finish the movie.

I - ice cream

On a day off, Emily took the boys to get ice cream, and when they came home raving about how Emily had managed to stack five ice cream scoops on top of a single cone, JJ knew she was with the right woman.

J - jaw

Emily's knees grew weak whenever JJ kissed up her jaw and whispered in her ear. Her girlfriend caught on and loved messing with her, working her up into a complete frenzy, then saying the most unsexy thing she could think of. Emily hated it, but she also couldn’t help but to collapse into a fit of giggles when JJ planted kisses all up the side of her face and whispered something like "corned beef" in a seductive voice.

K - kitchen

JJ would use every kitchen utensil as a musical instrument during any spare moment in cooking — while the food was cooking, while the water boiled, while the oven was preheating. She would sing into a wooden spoon and shove it into Emily's face to finish the lyric, and the two would dance in each others' arms all throughout the kitchen.

L - letters

When Emily spent her time in Paris and London, she and JJ wrote each other scores of letters the times they weren't together. They'd both filled up an entire box of papers and knickknacks until they were reunited. Even after, JJ would sometimes write a letter addressed to Emily, drop it into the mailbox and tell Emily to check the mail, for no reason except to make her smile.

M - mugs

JJ had an entire cupboard dedicated to mugs for her tea, which Emily could never understand because she only seemed to ever use two of them: one being a lumpy mug Henry had made in a pottery store and the other being a Valentine’s Day gift from Emily with lovely ceramic boobs protruding from the mug’s body.

N - notes

Emily bought a massive pack of post-its and began leaving notes for JJ around work, bringing a smile to her face every time she found a little colorful message. Some were encouraging — you can do it, you light up my world, you're amazing. Some were cheesy — i love you, je t’aime, when you see this blow me a kiss. And some were...questionable — JJ had to hide the extremely accurate (and well-annotated!) drawing of her naked body before Hotch saw.

O - omelette

Most of the time, Emily couldn't cook without the risk of burning the house down, but for some reason, she made the most scrumptious omelette. Despite not knowing how to cook scrambled or fried or boiled eggs, Emily's omelettes were always perfectly cooked, with an impeccable ratio of egg to filling. JJ tried everything she could to make them the same way, but the boys always preferred Emily's omelettes on Sunday mornings. JJ wondered if it was something she learned during her time in Paris.

P - plants

Before JJ, Emily had never been very good at taking care of plants. They seemed to die with little to no warning. But JJ had taught her well, making little plant calendars and teaching her signs to watch out for, and one morning, JJ caught her talking to one of the plants. As she listened more carefully, she heard that Emily was talking to each plant in a different language — according to the plant’s country of origin.

Q - quiet

The moments after the boys were put to bed were some of the only moments of quiet JJ and Emily got alone during the day. No matter how busy or tired they were, they always intentionally took a few moments to just quietly be with one another, curled up in the other's arms, lying in the other's lap, or simply sitting side by side.

R - rain

They'd gotten caught in the storm on the way back to the office from lunch. Despite JJ’s coat held up above them, the pair was getting drenched anyway, and they gave up and decided to make out in the rain instead. They swung their hands back and forth as they splashed over to the BAU, arriving soaked to the bone but elated, as Hotch shook his head at their sodden clothing and dopey grins.

S - Sergio

Emily had arrived home early and found JJ dancing in the hallway with Sergio to "Can't Stop the Feeling" blasting on the bluetooth speaker. She lifted her ban on Justin Timberlake that day, which had previously been in place when in a moment of weakness, JJ had declared she would choose him over Emily if given the chance. (She’d taken it back for Emily's sake, but deep down she couldn't really decide.)

T - thermostat

JJ liked the thermostat to be set at no lower than 77 degrees, while Emily loved the room as cold as possible. The first few months that they lived together was a horrible battle of constantly changing from one drastic temperature to the next, before JJ finally agreed to keeping the temperature low as long as Emily agreed to cuddle with her any time she got cold. Emily did not, however, realize that this compromise extended to the workplace, where JJ would sporadically ask for cuddles throughout the day, and Emily would have to comply.

U - ugly pajamas

Emily loved her ugly pajama sets. One of her favorites was a bright green Grinch onesie in a ridiculous Christmas sweater. JJ hated it until Emily showed it to the boys, and Michael howled with laughter and asked for one for himself. From that day forward, Emily bought her ugly pajamas in full family sets, including accompanying costumes for Sergio.

V - vanilla

Emily didn’t quite mind JJ’s early morning jogs because her favorite moments were when JJ came home after, took a shower, and climbed back into bed to give Emily a warm embrace, flooding her senses with the smell of vanilla shampoo. Emily would roll over to nuzzle her head in the crook of JJ’s neck and plant soft kisses there, breathing in her favorite scent.

W - wine

Emily drank red, JJ drank white. And Henry and Michael loved to join in, pretending to be adults by sipping grape juice from their colorful cups. Perhaps their family had unconventional tea parties, but at least they always had massive amounts of fun doing family activities tipsy. These were the nights when it was almost difficult to tell the difference between Michael and Emily’s coloring pages.

X - X-Files

JJ didn’t fully understand Emily’s deep obsession with The X-Files, but after Emily convinced her that she wasn’t only watching for Gillian Anderson, the younger woman began finding the long rambles and discussions of extraterrestrial life more endearing and interesting.

Y - yarn

JJ really wanted to get the hang of knitting and give something special to the boys, but Emily kept distracting her. Any chance she got, Emily would hold the yarn balls to her chest as fake boobs, use threads of yarn as mustaches, and drum the knitting needles against any surface. It wasn’t that JJ couldn't finish her projects out of annoyance — it was that JJ couldn’t help but laugh and find her girlfriend irresistible, forcing her to set aside her work and wrap herself up instead in the brunette’s embrace.

Z - zoo

It was Emily's explosive childlike joy when she had seen the dolphins. She claimed it was for the boys’ sakes, but JJ had noticed the pure excitement in her eyes when they saw the sign and felt the way Emily had tugged on her wrist to rush to the stadium and grab seats right in the splash zone. And in the screams of laughter and the moment when both Henry and Michael clutched at Emily when the water washed over them, JJ knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with this woman.

[worldoffanfiction2021]

{Image Sources: Dong Hua: https://daydaynews.cc/en/entertainment/419895.html Fengjiu: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/1196337391276429/}

The family of three deities had bid adieu to their relatives in Quingqui and taken the magical boat to Bihai Cangling. Dijun and Fengjiu had both managed to handle their respective duties and arranged for messengers to visit them here at their new place of residence, actually their real home, for the next few months. They were all very excited about it.

Fengjiu was remembering their last visit fondly. The last time she had been here, she had spent some magical time with Dijun.

Dijun was also remembering his last visit. But there wasn’t any fondness in those memories for him. He had been there was to build the Star Light ward. He had not expected to come back alive to this place, much less to come back alive with his wife and son. He looked at Xiaobai and marveled at her. It had been her who had saved him and saved his home. She was the best. He lovingly played with her hair.

Gungun saw that they were about to reach to a beautiful landscape, the likes of which he had never seen. “Father, your home is so beautiful. It’s even better than the Sky Kingdom!”, he exclaimed clapping excitedly.

“Gungun’s reaction to Bihai Cangling is just like yours when you came here for the first time.”, said Dijun smilingly to Xiaobai. "It's your home too, Gungun. It’s our home.", he added. He liked the sound of that very much.

Xiaobai noticed that a lot had changed since she had last visited. Row of fruit trees and vines had been planted - grapefruits, pears and grapes. There was a long corridor with an artificial hill. The hill really looked like a real rocky mountain, just smaller than a mountain. On either side of the corridor there were beautiful trees of foiling flowers. Spiritual birds danced to ‘paying homage to the Phoenix’ near by.

Then there was a pavilion overlooking a lotus pond. White and pink lotuses swayed gracefully in a cool breeze there. White sandalwood on each side of the pavilion gave the seating area a perfect cover from sun.

Xiaobai recalled her own words from the last time she had visited. Dijun had done everything she had asked for. She was transfixed.

When they walked a little further, her jaw dropped to the floor. Sitting atop a slightly raised platform was a house. Not just any house - the bamboo house she had drawn! Oh, Dijun!!!! She stood dumbfounded with tears in her eyes.

Dijun realized she had stopped walking and turned around. When he saw her face he asked with worry, “What’s wrong? Did I mess it up?” Forgetting about Gungun watching them, she ran forward and hugged him. She buried herself in his arms and said, “No, Dijun. No mess up. This is perfect. You made our home. Our home!” She choked on her emotions and couldn’t say anything else. Dijun smiled and planted a kiss on her head.

Gungun was watching all this and came running. “Mother and Father are kissing again. I want a kiss too.”, he giggled. Dijun picked him up and twirled him high. His giggles and Dijun’s laughter filled the space. And Xiaobai’s heart. They were home.

When they went inside, Xiaobai realized that all the basic things they had planned for, had been done. There was a study, a living room and a well-lit, well ventilated kitchen. The large kitchen window overlooked the fruit trees. There were two identical rooms - one for Gungun and another for his little brother/ sister, as Dijun explained, his eyes hinting mischievously. It made Gungun very excited to think that he would have a playmate. Then there were a couple guest rooms. Dijun and Xiaobai’s  room was a spacious suite with a large bed. A foiling flower tree was the headboard of that bed. They even had a nice little hot spring next to their room.

“Dijun, the house is great, but there’s still work to do. We have to set up the kitchen, the wardrobes and such.”, began Xiaobai. “If I do everything, what will you do?”, he interrupted her, pretending to be arrogant and tapped her forehead. Then he leaned in and whispered in her ears “But I have already done so much work here. You owe me big this time.  I will collect my dues from you at night.” Seeing her cheeks instantly color up pleased him.

There was a balcony behind their room. It overlooked a large playground with targets set up for practicing archery, an open space for sword plays and martial arts. On one side was another building. “That is a workshop where we can forge weapons. I have also placed all the weapons I have made or collected in a room in there. I am sure you will like it.”, said Dijun. She looked at him with pride in her eyes. Dijun felt that all his efforts had been completely worth it.

“I am so hungry, mother. When can we eat?”, asked Gungun. “You and Father can put your things in your rooms. I will quickly get food ready.”, said Xiaobai patting him. They all went their separate directions and got busy.

After some time they all got together in the dining room and ate a simple but delicious meal. Fengjiu had found that right next to the kitchen was a vegetable and herb garden. She had picked some fresh veggies to prepare rice porridge and mushrooms-vegetables stir fry. Some lentil cakes rounded up the meal. She had always been good in cooking. Her years in mortal realm had helped her perfect  the art of making do with whatever was available.

After they cleared up all the food, Fengjiu wanted to go to her room and take a nap. But Dijun insisted they go to the lotus pond and catch some fish. She almost suspected that he wanted to keep her away from their bedroom. “May be he has made a mess in there with all the stuff. I better not go in there or else I will end up cleaning everything myself.”, she thought to herself as she followed her guys to the pond. When they got there, she rested her head in Dijun’s lap and dozed off happily.

She woke up a little while later when tiny hands were trying to tap on her head. "Mom, wake up! Look I caught a fish!! My first ever fish!!!", Gungun was showing off with eyes wide with excitement. She couldn't help by smile at him. "I will make sweet and sour fish for dinner tonight with this. You both like it, don't you?" She said. Two heads full of silver hair nodded in fervent agreement. "Like father - like son", she chuckled.

She completely lost herself in cooking dinner. In addition to sweet and sour fish, she also made sticky rice and soup. "For Dijun and Gungun. They need this nourishment.", she told herself. All this was gobbled up pretty quickly between the three of them.

After dinner they took off for a long walk that led them back to the weapon forge. Dijun took them in and Fengjiu was like a kid in the candy store. She enjoyed designing and creating mechanical weapons. Among other things, this was something she and Dijun had in common. Gungun was quite curious and looked around with amazement. But he was slowly beginning to get tired and needed to get to bed. So they all returned homewards.

"You take him to his room and get him ready for bed. I will bring him a glass of milk. He will sleep well with that.", said Dijun. Fengjiu nodded and walked away holding Gungun's little hand. In his room, she helped him bathe and change. They both were happy they didn't need to dye his hair anymore. As she was settling him in his bed, Dijun came in with a glass on milk in his hand. He made sure Gungun finished it up. Then they both dimmed the candles, kissed Gungun sweet dreams and left the room.

When they reached the doorstep of their bedroom, Dijun gestured Fengjiu to stop. "What's wrong?", asked Fengjiu puzzled. "Close your eyes.", ordered Dijun. "Why should I?", replied Fengjiu more puzzled. "Please, Xiaobai. Do as you are told.", Dijun coaxed her. So she sighed and closed her eyes. "You are acting very weird tonight.", she said.

She found herself being lifted in his arms. She felt the door opening and he walking in with her.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Feng Jiu asked. "Not yet, just a little bit longer.", Dijun replied. She could feel the smile in his voice.

"What's going on? I am opening my eyes now." She nagged him anxiously as she felt herself being lowered on something extremely soft.

"Wait. Just a few more moments.", Dijun replied as he adjusted her clothes. "Okay, you can open your eyes now.", he said.

She was so not ready for what she was seeing. The room had been transformed. It looked like a bride's chamber on a wedding night. There was an altar placed for heaven worship ceremony. Gold, white and purple lanterns adorned the ceiling. Matching candles, flower arrangements and curtains hung everywhere. Every seat in the room and the whole bed was covered in foiling flower petals. She was draped in her wedding gown. And then as she turned towards Dijun she saw that he himself was looking extremely handsome in his wedding attire. Nothing in the room was nearly as mesmerizing as the sight of the regal man himself. He took her breath away and she could not help but stare at him open mouthed.

"I never gave you a proper wedding. I have regretted that very much.", he said huskily as he walked towards her with a purple veil. "Tonight, let's get married, Xiaobai.", he said softly as he came close and arranged the veil over her hair. She didn't know what to say or do. She was completely under his spell.

He led her by her hand towards the altar. They kowtowed to the heaven and earth. They remembered her parents and kowtowed for them. Then they bowed to each other. Very carefully he lifted her veil and took her hands in his.

"In all three eternities you are the only one who has moved my heart, Xiaobai. You, little fox, will always belong to me.", he looked deeply into her eyes and promised possessively.

She smiled with stars in her eyes and promised him back, "In any eternity I will bring you in my life. Because I love you the most Dijun, you will always belong to me."

He leaned in and planted kisses on her face. He kissed her hair, her forehead, her eyes, her nose and then covered her lips with his. He felt her respond to him and deepened the kiss. She trembled and moved closer in his arms. Slowly he moved to her ear. "Ever since I have had this dress made for you, I have imagined so many ways I would like to undress you from it.", he teased huskily. "Um? So you got this elaborate and extravagant dress made only so that you could undress me from it?", she asked pulling back and squinting her eyes at him. "HHmm.. ", he pursed his lips and nodded solemnly. "You are so... ", she started to say, but completely lost her train of thought under his hot, hungry gaze. He claimed her lips again and started undressing her.

[fromthedeskoftheraven]

We’ll always have Paris

Pairing: Marcus Pike x female reader

Content: Kissing, shameless fluff, a little food, Marcus is the perfect boyfriend who will ruin you for all other men, in this house we have utter contempt for Teresa Lisbon

Word count: ~2200

Note: So...I don’t even go here and I was supposed to be plotting a novel, but I sat down at the computer and this came out instead. That sound you hear is my clown shoes squeaking all the way back to my desk to work on what I was supposed to be doing in the first place.

I hope you won’t mind if I tag the little handful of people I know in the Pedro fandom who’ve been so kind to chat with me, tag me in their wonderful fics, and help me fall into various pits ;) @buckstaposition @songsformonkeys @yespolkadotkitty @chaotic-noceur and the lovely @keeper0fthestars who’s been #goals as a writer and a human being since our Hobbit fandom days.

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

“Hey, sweetheart.”

The smile in Marcus’s voice makes you cradle the phone to your cheek, as if it would bring him closer.

Mirroring that smile, you lean in to breathe the scent of peonies from the lush bouquet that dominates your desk. “The flowers are gorgeous. Thank you so much.”

“I hoped you'd like them.”

“I love them.” You glance up from your desk. “Half of the office is asking if you have any single brothers.”

His laugh is warm, delighted, a little bit husky. “Well, I wish I could have given them to you in person, but delivery will have to do for now.”

“I miss you,” you lament.

In theory, Marcus’s week-long work trip to Paris had sounded like a quick jaunt. In practice, however, the days have dragged, leaving you craving his touch, his scent, the warmth of his gaze.

A sigh buffets the phone. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He laughs again. “The most romantic city in the world and I’m here by myself. Next time I’m bringing you with me.”

Your heartbeat quickens with the instant fantasy of sharing walks along the Seine, museum crawls, and plush hotel beds with Marcus. “I might have to hold you to that.”

“Baby, you can hold me any way you want.”

It’s your turn to laugh at the pickup-line tone he’s adopted. “Smooth, Agent Pike. How’s the work side of things going?”

“Not bad,” he says. “We’ve got some hard intel on the gang we’ve been looking at, so I’m calling it a success.”

“I’m glad. And I’m even more glad Friday’s only two days away, I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Speaking of Friday, I was thinking.” There’s a faint shuffling of papers on the other end of the line. “What do you say we have dinner at my place? I’ll get takeout and we can just relax, watch a movie, whatever you want. I just want to be with you.”

“That sounds perfect,” you say, and mean it. To hell with reservations and nice clothes, you just want to cuddle up to Marcus and soak him in, make up for lost time.

“Great.” There’s a pause, and when he speaks again his voice is lower, closer to your ear. “I was also thinking...if you want, I’d love to have you spend the night. Only if you want to, no pressure,” he hurries to add.

A tendril of warmth unfurls in your chest with his words.

Your first date with Marcus was a couple of months ago, the day after you’d met at a party at a mutual friend’s house. Truth be told, you’d fallen hard and fast for him, but Marcus had been open from the beginning about the previous relationships that had ended disastrously and left him gun-shy.

With each new piece of your heart he effortlessly stole, you’d tried -- and failed -- to imagine what woman would be fool enough to walk away from Marcus Pike.

Between his wariness of rushing you and a job that claims so much of his time, you’ve yet to go beyond making out like teenagers. You learned quickly that Marcus is a devastating kisser, and the little taste of what his gorgeous, clever hands can do has had you dreaming of what he’s like in bed. Now, the prospect of finding out fills your stomach with butterflies.

Really aroused butterflies.

“I’d love that too,” you answer him, without hesitation.

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.” You lose the last half of the word to a breathy laugh. “I hope you know my productivity is a lost cause for the next two days, I won’t be able to think about anything else.”

“You and me both,” he practically purrs, in that rough-edged baritone that never fails to make heat blossom in your core.

“I guess I’d better let you go,” you sigh. “But thank you again for the flowers, and I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too, sweetheart. I’m going to go grab some dinner and turn in early, tomorrow’s going to be busy. I’ll be sure to call you when I land on Friday.”

“Fly safe.”

There’s that smile again. “Yes, ma’am.”

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

You’re buzzing with anticipation as you knock on the door of Marcus’s apartment, balancing a grocery bag in your arms along with your overnight bag. Marcus had promised via text to make breakfast for you, claiming it was his signature meal, but you couldn’t resist the urge to bring along a few extra treats. If anyone deserves to be spoiled, it’s him.

The door opens and your breath catches in your throat, just like it did the first time you saw him.

From his artfully tousled dark hair to his warm, black-coffee eyes to the beaming smile that dimples his cheek, he’s beautiful, and a week apart has made him even more so. Impossibly broad shoulders make a gray t-shirt sexier than it has any right to be and his long legs are encased in fitted dark jeans, and if he’s jet-lagged he wears it unreasonably well.

He ushers you inside, whisks the bags from your hands to the kitchen counter, and before you can say a word you’re enveloped in his arms.

You splay your palms on his muscled back and bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his warm skin and a faded kiss of cologne. His heartbeat thrums steadily, soothingly against you as he just holds you, swaying slightly on the spot.

“Missed you,” he finally murmurs, with a press of lips into your hair.

You pull away enough to look into his face, bringing your hands to frame his cheeks. Those dark eyes are soft with contentment and just touching him, breathing the same air, you’re nearly delirious with happiness.

“Kiss me, Agent Pike.”

Marcus is nothing if not accommodating.

His lips are soft and warm and insistent on yours, his arms strong around your waist, pressing you close to him. He teases at the seam of your lips with his tongue and lets you swallow his low groan when you open for him. The smell and taste and feel of him flood your senses, and every greedy rush of your pulse says mine.

You only part when you’re both gasping for breath, laughing a little together at your eagerness.

Marcus nuzzles your nose with his. “Are you hungry? I got sushi from your favorite place.”

“Starving,” you confess.

He lets you go with a last trail of his fingertips over your spine. The brown paper bag you brought in with you catches his eye. “What’ve you got there?”

“Just a little something for tomorrow morning.” With a flourish, you pull out a bottle of champagne and another of orange juice. “And I got you some cookies from that bakery you like, but you can save those for later.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“No such thing,” you insist.

You open the refrigerator, pushing aside a new carton of milk and a tub of salad greens to put the mimosa ingredients to chill. Bustling to his little pantry, you tuck the box of cookies away for him and fold the bag to put it in the drawer where he stashes them. When you look at Marcus again, he’s watching you with a fond expression that makes your heart do a somersault against your ribs.

He’s smiling as he comes to wrap his arms around you again. “I like seeing you here, in my place.”

Pulling him closer, you press a kiss to the bridge of the hawkish nose you love. “I like being here.”

Marcus rewards you with a brush of his lips over your forehead before sliding his hand down your arm to lace your fingers together. “Come on, let’s eat,” he says, with a grin. “No starving on my watch.”

You let him lead you to the table, where he’s got a veritable feast laid out. All your favorite kinds of sushi, steaming miso soup, salt-flecked edamame...when your stomach growls, he laughs and pulls out your chair before sitting beside you and passing you some chopsticks.

Over dinner, you trade stories from your week apart. His are vastly more exciting than yours, but still he listens intently, asks questions, laughs in all the right places, because that’s Marcus.

He lights up when you ask him all about Paris, even breaking his own “no phones at dinner” rule to scroll through his camera roll and show you a few of the best pictures he took. His passion for art and architecture and the little vignettes that get lost in everyday life makes him even more gorgeous, and you must be making heart eyes, because he dimples with a small smile as he puts the phone aside.

“What’s on your mind?”

I adore you, you think, but you swallow the words and settle for a half-truth. “I wish I could have seen it with you.”

“I do too.” He pushes back his plate and takes your hand in his on the table. “I meant what I said. I’d really like to take you with me sometime.”

You’re suddenly shy under his confident, unhurried gaze, and find his smile contagious even as your cheeks warm. The moment lingers, tender and expectant, while his thumb moves in gentle strokes over the back of your hand.

He breaks the spell, giving your hand a squeeze as he gets up from the table and draws you with him into the living room. You settle on the couch together, but before you can properly nestle into him he reaches for a small, wrapped package on the coffee table.

“I brought you something,” he says, sliding the parcel toward you with a grin.

You don’t even try to hide your excitement. Marcus has impeccable taste, and he knows it. He looks even more pleased with himself when you kiss him once, twice, before turning your attention to the present in your hands.

The paper falls away to reveal a flat jewelry box, and inside, on a bed of black satin, is a dream of a necklace: a small, delicate gold disk pendant, set with a halo of tiny emeralds that sparkle in the light. It’s elegant and understated and it couldn’t be more perfect if you’d chosen it yourself, and you tell Marcus so amid more grateful kisses.

“Help me put it on?” you ask at last, turning to sit facing away from him.

Carefully, he takes the necklace from its box and clasps it at the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine by trailing his lips in the golden chain’s wake. “It looks even prettier on you,” he murmurs into your skin.

“I’m going to wear it every day,” you promise, leaning into him as he kisses his way to the sensitive spot just under your ear. “Marcus, it means the world to me that you were thinking of me while you were there.”

He laughs a little against your neck, the puff of breath raising goosebumps. “Of course I was. I’m never not thinking about the woman I love.”

For a moment, the world stops spinning. The tightening of his hands on your waist tells you the words have slipped out of their own accord, the kind of rogue emotional impulse he works so hard to keep locked down.

He loves you. Marcus loves you.

When you turn around to face him, he looks rueful, almost apologetic. “I hope it’s not too soon. I don’t want to come on too strong, but I know what I feel--”

You cut him off with a kiss.

It takes him a second to catch up, but when he does, he goes all in. Strong arms pull you into his lap, his fingers tangle in your hair, and he just melts into you, kissing you like his life depends on it. Maybe it does.

“Marcus,” you breathe against his lips.

He pulls away, just enough to look at you. You feel as much as hear his questioning hum.

You stroke his cheek, trace your thumb over the place where his dimple hides. “I love you, too.”

You’d swear the brilliance of his smile could power a small town.

“You think so?”

“I know so.” You laugh a little. “If I’m being honest, I started falling for you at Melissa’s party.”

Marcus quirks an eyebrow in surprise.

You shrug. “Can you blame me? You were handsome, smart, funny. Dead sexy in your leather jacket.”

He looks away, smiling sheepishly, but your finger on his chin brings his gaze back to yours.

“But I also noticed you had kind eyes,” you go on. “You asked me questions and really listened to the answers, you walked me to my car when I left...you fed Melissa’s dog a piece of cheese from the charcuterie board when you thought no one was looking.”

He winces. “He was making sad eyes at me.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Marcus, you were a gentleman. Not because it was going to impress anybody, but because it’s just who you are. So, yeah, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world when you asked for my number. And I promise you’re not going to scare me off, because when I dream about the future, you’re in it.”

For a long moment he just looks at you, emotion swimming in the dark depths of his eyes. “How did I get so lucky?” he finally asks. He pulls you closer against him. “I love you. I really do.”

You all but whimper his name as he sweeps you into another kiss, a hot, hungry press of lips and tongues and murmured praise that feels like the love child of a caress and a thunderstorm. When his hands trail lightning over your skin and you manage to babble something that sounds like “please,” Marcus breaks from you just long enough to get to his feet, helping you up before he’s kissing you again, gently guiding you toward the hallway.

Your blood is singing in your veins, and if someone offered you a winning lottery ticket it would be ashes compared to what you’re holding in your hands right now.

Marcus’s sigh is the sound of perfect happiness as he tears his lips from you and presses his forehead to yours at the threshold of his bedroom.

“Sweetheart, I told you I love you.” His voice is smoke and honey. “Now I want to show you.”

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: this body yet survives, ch. 7

Relationship: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Lán Qǐrén, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Jiāng Yànlí

Tags: No War AU, Recovery, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals, Near Death Experiences, Attempted Murder, Eventual Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Siblings, Protective Siblings, Soup, Triggers

Summary: Wei Ying has a panic attack upon waking. Jiang Wanyin makes an unpleasant discovery.

Notes: Life has been busy lately and it might take me longer to write. I get my second Pfizer shot on Wednesday, and I’m expecting it’ll make me useless for a couple days. It’s also nearing the end of the semester, so I’ll be busy with that, too.

Parts 1 & 2

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

AO3 link

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

It took a few moments for Wangji to remember where he was when he woke, and then a moment more to place what had woken him before mao shi—quiet sobs and a soft voice murmuring soothingly.

He had taken the bedding on one side of the bed, and his eyes adjusted to the dark quickly. Wei Ying was curled against Jiang Yanli, who had taken the last shift. It was close enough to morning, then. 

“We’re here, A-Xian, and you’re safe,” she whispered, then noticed him sit up. “He had a nightmare.”

Wangji wished his guqin was here instead of the jingshi, that he had asked xiongzhang to bring it last night, that he could play calming music for Wei Ying; instead he levered himself to sit on the bed and hummed ‘WangXian,’ hoping it would remind his zhiji he was loved. 

Wei Ying’s trembling eased slowly, and Wangji kept his movements slow as he reached forward to take his hand, squeezing it lightly. He was relieved when Wei Ying squeezed back.

“S’going on?” Jiang Wanyin murmured blearily, sitting up. 

To his credit, he immediately moved beside his sister when he realized the issue. 

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, trying to be comforting, patting Wei Ying’s shoulder. 

Initiating unexpected touch wasn’t the best idea for someone in the throes of a panic attack—Wei Ying couldn’t quite mask a flinch, and Jiang Wanyin’s hands fluttered in a helpless way before clutching the bedsheet hard enough his knuckles turned white. 

Wangji continued to hum through it, not stopping even when his heart clenched at Wei Ying’s gasped apologies for the reaction. 

“Not your fault,” Jiang Wanyin whispered insistently, clearly trying to keep his own reaction in check for fear of hurting his brother further.

“Not yours,” Wei Ying returned, equally insistent.

“Neither of yours,” Jiang Yanli cut in. “Neither of you should blame yourselves.”

Wei Ying’s breath hitched.

“I hate it,” he whispered. “I hate being afraid all the time. I hate that I can’t stop.”

Wangji couldn’t abide him blaming himself, and paused in humming, rubbing his thumb gently across the back of Wei Ying’s hand. . 

“The past few days have been stressful. Too many events too quickly. Too overwhelming.” 

“And some were unexpected,” Jiang Yanli added, clearly thinking of his talk with Madam Jin and the last minute ceremony. 

“We should have just ditched the banquet,” Jiang Wanyin muttered. “The food sucked. A-Jie’s was better.”

Surprisingly, Wei Ying giggled at that, helpless in his laughter for nearly a minute. 

“Jiejie’s food is way better,” he said when he caught his breath. 

Wangji was relieved that his voice wasn’t tight and shaky anymore. The familiar joke among the Jiangs about Gusu Lan food, and particularly the food in the Cloud Recesses, had eased the panic attack.

Honestly, having enjoyed Jiang Yanli’s cooking, Wangji knew they had a point. 

She reached forward and smoothed Wei Ying’s hair, down and mussed in a way that was unfairly attractive, then poured him a glass of water from the ewer the healer had brought before hai shi. He drank  obediently, likely needing the hydration and something to rinse the taste of stale sick from his mouth. 

When he finished the glass, she poured him another, and then maneuvered him until she could reach his hair. She carded through the tangles gently with her fingers before quickly braiding it and tying the end off with his red hair ribbon.

“How are you feeling, A-Xian?” she asked when she was done. 

Wei Ying’s eyes had fallen shut during the process, and he hummed contentedly in response.

“Better,” he said after a moment.

He seemed to hesitate, as though he was about to say more. 

“Wei Ying?” Wangji asked.

Wei Ying ducked his head and bit his lip. 

“A bit hungry,” he admitted. 

He knew Wei Ying often downplayed his needs, so Wangji translated that to mean he was very hungry. 

“Well, you were sick,” Jiang Wanyin said, frowning. “It’s like you didn’t eat dinner, kind of.”

Jiang Yanli tutted softly. 

“You’re still so thin, A-Xian. I can go ask the healer if they can provide something… Or I could go get something from our quarters.”

She started to rise but was stopped by Jiang Wanyin.

“I’ll go, a-jie. I wouldn’t want you to go alone in the dark, and one of us needs to chaperone.”

The Jiang sect heir turned to Wei Ying.

“I’ll stop by your rooms and grab fresh robes for you while I’m at it,” he said gruffly. “You were sick in those.”

Wei Ying smiled brightly, and Wangji wanted to thank Jiang Wanyin for bringing that light to the surface through his courtesy. If he did, it would undoubtedly fluster him, and he could almost see why his zhiji enjoyed teasing people so much, imagining it.

It was near enough to mao shi, and the purpose of Jiang Wanyin’s break of curfew was to help his brother and would be excused, so Wangji said nothing when he left. 

Jiang Yanli fussed softly over Wei Ying after his departure, helping to straighten his sleep-skewed robes. 

When he shifted on the bed, he nearly knocked Suibian off. Wangji kept the sword from falling and handed it to Wei Ying, who laid it against his thigh. The sword, he knew, was a comfort, despite having been made by the Jiang sect—it represented his ability to protect himself. 

Wangji was content to watch Wei Ying as his sister doted on him, their gentle teasing—Xianxian is three; hmm, I think that’s too old—and the blessed calm that had found his beloved. 

Jiang Wanyin’s expression, when he returned, was stormy. He placed a tray of fruits and osmanthus cakes on the end of the bed.

“A-Cheng?” Jiang Yanli asked. 

He shook his head but looked at Wangji and gestured to the hall. Whatever had him troubled, he didn’t want to say in front of his siblings, which was immediately worrisome.

“Someone put lotuses in our rooms,” Jiang Wanyin said after the door was closed. “Ripped the petals off some and threw them all over.”

Rage filled him, icy and terrifying in what it might lead him to do. 

This confirmed those delivered to Wei Ying’s quarters, the entire reason he had to spend the night in the infirmary due to the fear of qi deviation, the reason he was ill and had panic attacks… It had been intentional. 

The culprit had likely expected them to take Wei Ying to the Jiang quarters in the morning, not expecting… 

“I will wake shufu and xiongzhang,” he said, his voice more forceful than he meant it to be. “The mess will be removed.”

Jiang Wanyin let out a soft sigh, almost one of relief that it’d be handled immediately. 

“I didn’t go to A-Xian’s quarters for fresh robes. And you might want to make sure they didn’t hit your jingshi.”

The rage he had felt dwarfed that which he felt now at the thought of his home being violated, the very place he had finally reached Wei Ying, whose well-being was now threatened by an unknown source. 

That they had dared to harm Wei Ying… He knew not what he would do if he caught the betrayer. 

“I will take care of it,” he said. “Protect Wei Ying.”

Jiang Wanyin blanched a bit, and he wondered briefly if his anger had shown in his face or voice, but he swept that aside, channeling his emotions into energy. 

When Xichen answered his knock at the hanshi, the sleepiness fell from his expression immediately, and he knew his own expression revealed his turmoil. 

“What happened, A-Zhan?”

It took him a moment to find his voice. 

“Sabotage. Lotuses in the Jiang quarters.”

Xichen’s quick intake of air was almost a gasp, and he closed his eyes as he often did when emotionally overwhelmed.

“I will wake shufu,” xiongzhang said after a moment. “Please meet us there.”

Wangji tried to bow, but was kept from doing so by his brother, who instead pulled him into an embrace, one that left his eyes stinging embarrassingly, the emotions that were overcoming him threatening to escape in a way he didn’t want. If he gave in to it, he didn’t know if he would stop until all the grief and anger and helplessness he had felt over the last year was expelled.

It was a relief when Xichen released him.

“We will protect him, didi. We will make this right.”

He could only nod, turning to walk to the Jiang quarters, glad for the dark that hid the emotions he could feel roiling within him.

The Jiang quarters were worse than Jiang Wanyin had let on, though Wangji could now see the reason behind his near-wordless rage. 

A large bouquet of lotus flowers dwarfed the table they had eaten at only hours before. Lotus blossoms were strewn about the room, petals on nearly every surface, and the smell was more than could be accounted for by the blossoms. It smelled as though far too much lotus incense had been burned. It was entirely possible the scent would prove difficult to remove, that the idea of Wei Ying staying with the Jiangs would now be impossible.

Knowing now how lotuses impacted Wei Ying, the smell made Wangji nauseous in sympathy. Had he come with them for breakfast in the morning to encounter this, after his own rooms had been similarly violated… 

They had been here all evening, until shortly before curfew. This had been done after they left, purposefully. 

Which made it clear neither this nor the bouquet left in Wei Ying’s quarters were innocent mistakes.

He dared not touch anything, lest he destroy evidence that might lead to a culprit. 

Wangji felt the decorative silverwork on Bichen’s hilt start to cut into his fingers and forced himself to loosen his grip. He left the rooms, standing on the small patio, breathing in the cool night air and listening to the chirp of crickets in the dark until he felt some semblance of calm.

His uncle and brother arrived shortly thereafter, and the thunderous expression on shufu’s face told Wangji he had reached a similar conclusion.

“Wei Ying is being targeted,” he said, knowing it was unnecessary.

“Return to him, Wangji,” shufu ordered gently. “This will be investigated and dealt with, and he needs you more than we do.”

Truthfully, Wangji was grateful to leave it in their hands.

He felt as though he had been contaminated by the smell and stopped by the jingshi to change lest the odor upset Wei Ying. His home was undisturbed, and he was able to change without incident. He even ran his comb, scented with sandalwood, through his hair a few times to ensure it would replace any scent that had taken root there. He took Wangji with him when he left so he could play for Wei Ying.

He stopped by Wei Ying’s quarters on the way back to the infirmary and was relieved they had not been further adulterated. He selected a set of robes, one with some blue in them, then checked to be certain his hair oil had not been tampered with—still the scent of orange and cinnamon—before taking both it and the comb he had gifted with him.

Wei Ying’s smile was weak when he returned, his face lined with new tear-tracks, and the Jiang siblings were hovering over him. Jiang Wanyin had not kept the discovery from him, and though it hurt him to admit, it was the correct decision. As much as Wangji wished to protect him from this, Wei Ying deserved to know, to make his own decisions. 

“Xiongzhang and shufu are investigating,” he told them as he hung Wei Ying’s fresh robes over a chair and set his guqin down.

He handed the comb and hair oil to Jiang Yanli, though he wished he could comb Wei Ying’s hair himself. It would be improperly intimate, and the courtship was important to show his value. 

He did not offer platitudes, knowing it would not change the way any of them felt. That this had likely originated from his own sect rankled him, and even kowtowing didn’t feel like enough. Nothing felt like enough penance. He had been unaware of negative sentiment toward Wei Ying, had been blindsided by this act of violence against him, had failed him… 

“It’s not your fault, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whispered, as though he could sense the guilt he felt.

His zhiji’s words, the love in his voice, saved him from the downward spiral of his thoughts. Wangji sat on the bed and took his hand. 

Though he had not committed the crime, he felt responsible for his failure to protect Wei Ying again. 

“We will be more vigilant,” he said, in lieu of worthless apologies.

Wei Ying offered a sad smile, then shifted closer and hugged him, leaning against his chest and tucking his forehead against his neck. 

Wangji brought his arms around him, held him close, basked in the warmth of his presence, and was grateful when the Jiangs said nothing against it, allowing them this simple comfort.

[lia-jones]

Growing Together - Chapter Twenty-Two - Goodbye Is a Silent Word (Part One)

Author's note: So sorry for the no-show! I just got a new job and training was exhausting, and it was hard to keep up with the writing. Hopefully, everything will normalize now! I hope you enjoy, and if you can write me a line, it always makes my day! Lots of love!

Things moved swiftly after we received the terrible news of Mina’s passing. As expected, after the initial shock, Victor quickly assumed his focused, hands-on demeanor and in less than an hour, we had picked Owen up from school, gone to the apartment to speedily pack our bags, and got in the car to go to Terry’s ranch, where we would spend the next two days, preparing for Mina’s final goodbye.

The drive was tense, to say the least. Victor and I had yet to say a word about our previous argument, so it felt like all the accusations, all the anguish and potential apologetic words were buzzing between us, wanting to be heard, yet superseded by the noisy chaos of the recent events.

Victor was silent, seemingly calm, focused on the road ahead. It took a wife’s keen eye to notice by his posture that there was tension on his shoulders, and that although his eyes seemed focused on the road, I could see the struggle in them, telling me he was weathering an emotional storm.

Understandably, Victor was in a fragile place, so I decided to forget about our fight and the unresolved issues between us, at least for the time being, and simply be there for him in whatever way he needed me to be.

Mina’s death seemed to affect my son as well, despite having only met her a few times. He was unusually silent, kept within himself, his mind busy with thoughts that I didn’t know but worried me.

“Terry’s organizing Mia’s funeral?” I decided to break the silence, as I felt it suffocating me.

Victor let out a long exhale.

“I am.” He finally spoke after a long moment. “I already spoke with Terry, I’m taking care of everything.”

“Have you spoken to any of Mina’s relatives?” I suggested. “We should call her family before making any major decisions. Maybe there are traditions they want to see followed.”

“We are her family.” He answered in a low voice. “She had no one else.”

For a moment, I could swear I heard a twinge of guilt in his tone. There was a glint of sadness in his eyes, lasting but a second, only to be replaced with his well-known poker face. I kicked myself internally for bringing the subject up. I felt like holding his hand, telling him that he did the best that he could, he couldn’t have known, he shouldn’t feel guilty. But given the circumstances, and how evasive Victor was being, I wasn’t sure if my gesture would be well received. I decided to refrain from reaching out, waiting for him to come to me when he felt ready.

“Do you think dying hurts?” Owen spoke from the backseat, diverting my thoughts.

I froze, not really knowing how to answer his question. By my side, Victor tensed, his grip on the wheel tightening even more.

“I don’t know, Bug. I guess it depends on how one dies.” I tried to close the subject.

“Do you think Mina hurt?” He looked at me with inquisitive eyes.

“No, I don’t think she did.” I lowered my voice as if whispering my answer would be less painful for Victor.

“What about my mother?” He asked again. “Does killing yourself hurt?”

My heart sank with sadness, seeing my son, at such a tender age, already considering things like death and the loss of a loved one.

“I wouldn’t know. I hope it doesn’t.” I gave him a tender look.

“Do you think there is a Heaven?” He kept going, this time not even pausing to get an answer. “Do you think Mina went to Heaven? Do you think my mother is there? Miss Dillon says hurting yourself is a sin, do you think God forgave her? And if He didn’t, where do you think she is now? Do you think Mina can tell her I’m alright? Do you think they can see us from-”

“Enough!” Victor roared inside the car, making both me and Owen jump. After a sharp, deep breath, he continued in a flat tone. “Can we please make the rest of the trip in silence?”

“Maybe we could talk about it later, ok, Bug?” I reached back, squeezing his knee, trying to soften the blow of Victor’s outburst.

Silence fell between us, pregnant with words that wouldn’t be uttered. Owen, however, seemed to have more to say.

“I’m sorry Mina died, Dad.”

Victor’s face contracted in a very brief grimace. He felt guilty for yelling, I could tell.

“Yes.”

Victor’s expression swiftly shifted back to his characteristic emotionless one. And I could swear that, at that moment, I could see him diligently rebuilding those unbreakable walls, the ones he surrounded his heart with, the ones that protected the sensitive and fragile side of him from the rest of the world. Only this time I felt I was being kept out as well.

The iron gates that led to Terry’s ranch, the same we had seen covered in flowers and lights nearly a year ago, were now adorned by a black ribbon tied in a single knot, signaling the death of a loved one in the house. As they opened wide and we passed that threshold, we all felt the weight of that new reality: a life without Mina.

Mina was not someone we saw very often or that would take much time in our lives, but when she was present, she filled them with love. She was wise and kind, with an assertiveness that wasn’t imposing, but welcome, just like a bright sun entering a room, warm and cozy, staving away the darkness. And now that she was gone, all the space she filled now vacant, I couldn’t help but think of all the things that we would miss about her.

We would no longer be greeted by her bright smile and warm hands holding ours, and I would never see again the tender gaze she had for Victor, and how he responded in kind, with a calm welcoming expression he saved for her alone. I would no longer feel the warmth of how much she seemed to dote on him, always surprising us with his favorite foods or a box full of taffy, and calling him Hummingbird, although he insisted on being called by his name. I would no longer feel the occasional hand squeezing my shoulder, usually when we were alone, her way of approving of me and the way I loved her boy.

“You will stay with Owen at the ranch while I take care of the funeral arrangements.” Victor stated as he stopped the car in front of the mansion.

“No, I want to go with you.” I declared. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

Victor let out another long tired sigh. When he finally opened his mouth to retort, he was interrupted by Terry tapping on his window. He rolled it down.

“Come inside, already.” She smiled widely, although I could see the sadness in her eyes. “The food will get cold.”

“We assumed you guys skipped lunch, so we prepared a meal for you.” Susan welcomed us, as we entered the mansion.

“Nothing too fancy, just some soup.” Terry chimed in. “I’m not much of a cook, most of the cooking was done by-”

“Do you have the documents?” Victor interrupted, still standing by the door, clearly uninterested by small talk at the moment.

“They are in the study waiting for you as I promised.” Terry walked to Victor and took his arm, pulling him inside. “But now it’s time to eat. It won’t do you any good to go through today on an empty stomach. Besides, your son wants to eat, right, Owen?”

“Right.” Owen almost whispered, his expression still a sullen one.

“Are you sad, sweetheart?” Terry came closer to Owen, ruffling his curls. “No long faces, Mina wouldn’t want that. She wanted all of us to be happy, and live long and fulfilling lives. That’s how she would want to be honored. Now, let’s all eat and spend time as a family.” She waved at us to come inside the kitchen.

Victor turned away, excusing himself, as Owen and I sat at the table.

“Do you mind staying with Aunt Terry while Dad and I are away?” I squeezed the boy’s shoulder lovingly.

“Of course he won’t mind!” Terry made a face at him, making him laugh. “Susan can use some extra help in the stables. Will you help her take care of the horses?”

“Can I?” Owen’s face lit up.

Before any of us could answer, we heard the sound of an engine starting outside.

“Is Victor leaving?” Terry got up from her seat.

Without much thought, I ran outside, not believing he would leave without me. Sure enough, Victor was in his sedan pulling away. Noticing my presence by the front door, he paused his departure for a moment, catching my glance. The pain in his eyes was unbearable for me to watch, and I lowered my gaze. A second later, he started moving again, leaving in a hurry, a cloud of dust billowing up behind him.

“He took the documents from the study.” Terry came by my side. “He must have gone to the morgue.”

I stood at the door for a moment, considering Victor’s actions. Clearly, there wouldn’t be a chance for reconciliation in the near future, since he didn’t even want me around.

“The food is getting cold.” Terry grabbed my arm, a knowing look on her face.

I couldn’t say a word after, lost in my own thoughts, playing with my food. At least Owen was doing much better than I was, the prospect of playing with the horses distracting him from his father’s mood and sudden absence. Truth was, in a blink of an eye, I felt like I had lost my footing. Victor and I had fought before, and some of those fights were incredibly ugly, but never have I ever felt so distant from him. Never had he deliberately walked away from me. That was more painful than any nasty words he could ever say to me.

Susan took Owen to the stables after lunch, while I stayed behind with Terry, helping her clean the kitchen. Again, we worked in silence, Terry probably remembering Mina going on and about in her duties, while I was wondering how Victor was, if he missed me by his side, if I should call to check up on him.

“This is the last one.” I declared, putting away the last clean plate. “Do you need my help with anything else?”

“I’m so glad you asked.” She laughed with relief. “Follow me.”

We entered Mina’s room like it was a temple, silently and respectfully. The room was large, humbly yet tastefully decorated. Over the antique dresser, nothing but a vase with some dried flowers and a book. It was amazing how the whole room spoke of Mina. It was simple and modest, but it had a cozy and loving energy, just like her: a silent yet powerful tenderness.

“Susan was supposed to help me with this, but it’s best that she stays with Owen. And I didn’t want to ask Victor. It would be too painful for him.” Terry apologized, opening one of the drawers. “We need to find something suitable for Mina to wear.”

Silently, Terry and I went through Mina’s clothes, taking several items out. Terry took a box out of the wardrobe, sitting on the bed with a ragged sigh as she opened it.

“Victor should have this.” She handed it to me.

It was a simple shoebox lined with wrapping paper, but inside there was a treasure. There were many little objects: a children’s uniform tie, a Rubik’s cube, a pair of baby socks. The rest of the box was filled with pictures of Victor throughout the years, and newspaper cuttings from articles about him since he started LFG. It was the kind of thing a mother would have. My mother had the same things for me and my brother. I gave Mina a silent thank you for loving my husband so well over all these years.

“When my sister-in-law left to live in Paris, Victor was in a pretty bad state.” Terry commented, as she took the small tie from the box. “I never understood how she could leave Victor behind like that, especially knowing my brother and how he always treated his son. It always got to me how Victor idolized her, still does, and she never deserved any of his love. Mina was his real mother.”

She handed me the tie, and for a moment I could picture my husband as a child, poised and oddly mature, wearing that uniform. And I wondered if he had his poker face even then, or if he had sadness in his eyes, the same emotion he now hid, at that time so perfectly open and visible to the outside world.

“Mina would ask him to help her in the kitchen, and they would talk for hours on end, as they peeled potatoes, or baked a cake. She was his biggest support in that cold house. Until Greg decided his son was spending too much time with the help.” Terry let out a bitter laugh. “God forbid he would let that boy have something good in his life.”

“What did he do?”

“One morning, he simply told Mina to pack her bags and leave immediately. Victor begged his father to let her stay, but Mina decided it would be best to leave, and not make any more trouble for the boy. She ended up at my doorstep, asking for a place to stay while she looked for another job.”

“And she stayed ever since.” I smiled at Terry, my heart full of love for her.

“I hired her on the spot, knowing how much that would mean to Victor. And she became my family.”

I looked at the room again, her presence feeling so much stronger now. She was so simple, so humble, yet she could take so much room in one’s heart.

“Don’t take Victor’s actions too seriously. He needs time to wrap his head around this. You must know as well as I do that he isn’t very good at dealing with his own emotions.” Terry squeezed my arm.

My eyes immediately filled with tears, all the painful recent events coming to mind.

“No, it’s that… Things are not well, Terry.” It hurt to talk, my throat suddenly feeling incredibly tight. “We had an ugly fight today, that’s probably why he is avoiding me. Owen’s grandmother showed up and filed for custody, we are at risk of losing him... It’s been stressful.”

“Dear God, Andrea! No wonder both of you look so stressed.”

“And now he is cold, and he doesn’t want me near him. And I feel like I’m losing it all, everything is slipping from my hands…” I sobbed in desperation. “I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry for breaking down like this.”

“No need to be sorry, we are family.” She stroked my back soothingly, as I let out the tears I had been holding all this time. “I understand how you would feel that way, but I know my nephew and I know you. First of all, it’s Victor, that woman does not stand a chance. He will not let his son go due to anything in this world, of that I am certain. And second of all, Victor adores you. In no time, he will be here with us, fussing over you like he always does. You love each other, I’m sure you will work it out.”

Looking at the bigger picture, Terry was probably right. We were going through a stressful time, and we just had a fight, as many couples do. From the point of view of the observer, we had been tried and tested many times before, and we always stood strong, no matter how much we swayed. But I knew Victor, and I knew this wasn’t just a lovers’ quarrel to him. He never let himself feel too much, but when he did, he felt deeply. I had gone against his plans, questioned his decisions, when he was trying his best for our family. Maybe he was right to be angry at me. I should have been more supportive. But I also couldn’t ignore what my heart was telling me.

After we picked the outfit for Mina, Terry went to the study to make some work-related phone calls, leaving me to my own devices. I was tired of thinking about the past few days, overanalyzing each one of my and Victor’s words, so I decided to go to the living room and read something while I waited for Owen to return from the stables. Or Victor. And that’s when I saw it.

The piano must have felt lonely in that living room, looking like it hadn't been touched in decades. I sat on the stool and opened the lid, my finger running over the keys without pressing them; a greeting of sorts. For a moment, I wondered why there would even be a piano in Terry’s house, since it was evident that nobody played it, but then it hit me: it must have belonged to Victor’s mother. Victor’s parents owned the property for a while, so they probably left it behind.

“You can play it, it’s tuned.” Terry spoke from the hall.

“I don’t want to be disrespectful.” I said as I slowly closed the lid.

“It’s actually very fitting. Mina loved when my sister-in-law played it.” Terry smiled, coming close to me to open the lid again. “That gives me an idea. Would you play some music at the funeral?”

How could I refuse?

“What do you want me to play?”

“There is one that Mina liked in particular, I don’t know which.” Terry went to the bookshelf, retrieving an old leather folder. “But I have some scores here, see if there is something appropriate.”

I took the folder from her hands, opening it. On top of the first sheet of music, I could read the title Serenade, by Schubert, Listz’s arrangement.

It wasn’t a hard piece to play I had learned it around the age of eleven. It took me a while to get reacquainted with the melody, but after a few strokes of the keys, it became second nature all over again, allowing me to submerge deeply into the music, letting feeling take over, so much that I didn’t even notice Terry leaving the room. At that moment, I was a lover serenading someone, and my beloved responded in kind with the higher notes, telling me my love was reciprocated.

A hand came from behind me, pressing on my dancing ones, a dissonant chord echoing in the living room. It was Victor, a shadow in his eyes I had never seen before.

“Not this one.” He declared in a tired tone.

“Terry asked me to play for Mina’s funeral.” I hurried to answer, almost scared he would scold me. “I assumed it was her favorite one.”

Without a word, Victor took the leather folder, skimming through it. He handed me a few sheets of paper. The title read Reverie - Debussy.

“This one.” He declared as he turned to leave.

“How did it go?” I spoke before he disappeared again. “You left without me.”

Victor stood without a word, his eyes on the ground, not daring to look at me. The clench of his jaw told me he was deciding to ignore me yet again.

“Dad! Dad!” We heard Owen run towards us. “Susan let me feed the horses! And Onyx was so cool, he did one of those tricks you taught him.” Owen jumped with excitement to Victor, arms up, expecting his father to pick him up like he always did.

“Right.” Victor muttered, ignoring Owen’s silent request and leaving the room.

I couldn’t react for a moment, seeing how my husband, the most loving father I had ever seen apart from my own, was acting towards our son. This wasn’t the Victor I knew. This was someone else entirely.

“Why is he mad at me?” Owen’s voice trembled. My heart broke as my eyes landed on my son: he looked like the scared little boy we had picked from the orphanage, small and fragile, his shoulders slouched and his head down, afraid of making the slightest movement.

“Come here, Bug.” I opened my arms and he ran into them, taking refuge in my embrace. “Dad is not mad at you, he’s just sad. Some people show sadness by crying, your father gets weird like this.”

“Just like when he looked scary but just wanted to be my friend?” Owen spoke against my chest.

“Exactly like that.” I stroked his red curls. “Your father will always love you, as I will. You’re just too adorable.” I tickled his ribs, making him giggle.

“Can I watch you play?” He gave me that honest and bright smile of his, comforting my heart.

“Not until you do a scale with me.” I pretended to scold him. “You won’t be able to progress if you don’t practice, Mister.”

After practicing the scale for a few moments, I turned my attention to the score Victor had given me. I almost didn’t need the score for this one, I knew it by heart, my teacher was a big admirer of Debussy. I started playing the song, putting my entire soul in it, reliving my teacher’s expressions as my fingers brought the music to life.

And then I noticed it in the reflection on the piano’s reflective varnished wood, above the keys. The sunset had revealed him, standing by the doorway, secretly listening to me play, his head down. I didn’t look back or acknowledge his presence. Instead, I put all my love into those notes, hoping it would soothe his heart, would bring him the comfort he wouldn’t allow me to express.

[loosesodamarble]

Happy Birthday, Inosuke!

Puffs of steam rose from the pot of miso soup that Shizuka stirred as she prepared dinner for that evening. Slivers of daikon and carrot swirled around in the broth. Shizuka set aside the ladle then reached for the tofu on the counter. Just as she tilted the cutting board to slide the tofu in, the kitchen door slammed open and Inosuke burst through.

"Yuzuka!" he exclaimed and bolted towards Shizuka. "You gotta listen to—!"

Shizuka turned, giving Inosuke a nasty look, and hissed, "One step closer and it'll be your fault we have an incomplete soup for dinner."

Inosuke stopped short. His shoulders slumped, as though he were a wilted flower. He waited and watched as Shizuka added the tofu and then wakame. Shizuka lowered the heat on the stove then turned to Inosuke.

"Proceed, Boss," she urged while gesturing forward with her hand.

Inosuke perked up immediately, the smile hidden beneath his mask was still felt. Perhaps it was because Shizuka appealed to him with his favorite nickname or maybe it was because he was free to approach Shizuka. Regardless of the reason, Inosuke closed the distance between himself and Shizuka in a single stride.

"Listen to this, Umeka! You're not gonna believe it!" he exclaimed as he shook Shizuka by the shoulders.

Does he have to shake me every time he's excited for something? As much as it annoyed Shizuka, it entertained her more to experience Inosuke's glee in an admittedly unique way. It gave her a headache though so she had to shrug his hands off. "Tch. What is it?"

"So Gonpachirou, Kanitsu, and I were doing laundry—"

"Why does it matter that you were doing that specifically?"

"Shut up, I'm getting there," Inosuke said before returning to his story. "I was cleaning my underwe—"

"Ew. I know it's yours but I don't want the mental ima—" Shizuka was silenced by Inosuke's hand over her mouth. Oh gods! Why is he doing this? What if someone walks in? The warmth of Inosuke's hand, so calloused and strong, was nothing compared to the heat that rose to Shizuka's face.

"—and as I was cleaning, I realized I could read some of the stuff besides my name on it."

Wait, there's more? Shizuka shuddered at the thought of inspecting undergarments of all things for writing. Since Inosuke hadn't let her go, she raised a brow to press for more information.

"It was 'four,' 'moon,' 'twenty-two,' and 'sun.' I showed it to Ryuujirou and he said that it must be the day I was born!" Inosuke let go of Shizuka's face only to grab her shoulders again. "Can you believe it, Mokuka? I have a birthday!"

"Tch. Well duh, you have a birthday," Shizuka groaned as Inosuke rattled her body. "Everyone has a birth—" Wait. He said it was April twenty-second. That's tomorrow! I have to get him something! "AAAHHH!" Shizuka writhed out of Inosuke's grasp and bolted out the door.

Shizuka heard Inosuke scream after her, "Hey! The hell are you going?! What about dinner?"

"Tch! It should be ready! I can eat later!" Shizuka screeched back. I need to get something perfect for Inosuke!

Shizuka ran like her life depended on it and didn't stop until she reached town and the shopping district. While pausing to breath more relaxedly, she looked around at the shops. A general store, a bookstore, and various other buildings lined the street.

What would Inosuke want? First, I have to go off what I know he likes. Shizuka closed her eyes and crossed her arms. Fighting, training, sleeping, showing off... A frown crossed her features. Not exactly things I can shop for.

Shizuka inhaled deeply. An array of delicious smells entered her nose. She saw an eatery to her left but ignored her growling stomach.

I know he likes tempura. And... Shizuka spotted a pair of women talking out of a store, a folded up article of clothing in one's arms. He prefers cotton fabric when it comes to choosing blankets. Shizuka looked down at her haori. Maybe I should get him something for when it gets colder.

Nodding to herself, Shizuka made a plan.

After having gouged her wallet, Shizuka returned to the Butterfly Mansion. She held her purchases close to her body as she entered the mansion. Tanjirou and Zenitsu would be sure to figure out what she was planning but she would try to keep it a surprise for Inosuke.

The night passed and morning came.

Shizuka scrambled out of bed the second she felt conscious. She wrapped her first present to Inosuke before hurrying to the kitchen to begin prepping the second. The vegetables needed to be washed thoroughly. There was also the shrimp that needed to be shelled. Chopping and actually cooking everything was yet another matter.

Did I go overboard buying twelve kinds of tempura foods? Shizuka wondered while staring at the cluttered counter. Shaking her head, she reassured herself. I'm not going to do this halfway! Not for Inosuke!

Shizuka rolled up sleeves and got to work. For vegetables, there were standard produce like shiso leaves and pumpkin but Shizuka also dared to add broccoli on the suggestion of the seller. The meats of the tempura feast would be shrimp and squid.

"Good morn—What on earth?!"

"Good morning, Kochou-sama," Shizuka greeted over her shoulder.

"Shizuka, what is all this?" asked Shinobu as she walked up to the counter.

"Tch. I think it should be obvious but it's tempura ingredients."

"Tempura?" Shinobu picked up a slice of sweet potato, as if to inspect it. "But why so much?"

"It's Inosuke's birthday so I want to treat him."

A choking sound came from Shinobu before she giggled, "You really are like his wife."

SNAP!

Shizuka stared at the cutting board, snapped in two by her own hand, then glared at Shinobu. The Insect Pillar kept her blithe smile then walked away. It was as though she wasn't guilty of stating something as ridiculous as she had.

Breakfast was prepared by the mansion's staff but Shizuka couldn't let herself take a break. Her work was interrupted however, ironically by the person it was for.

"OI! Nodoka!"

"Yes?" Shizuka moved slowly while gutting the squid she had bought. There was only one so she couldn't afford to mess up. "What is it?"

"Come train with me!"

"Tch. I'm already busy with this."

Inosuke huffed, quite loudly, before stomping footsteps were heard. Then, a hand clamped down on Shizuka's wrists. She locked her body so the knife wouldn't go awry. Looking to Inosuke, Shizuka saw him frowning, not in anger but more petulance.

"C'mon!" Inosuke tugged on Shizuka's wrist. "Let's train!"

Shizuka sighed. She really couldn't turn down a request. "Very well. Just let me wash up first."

"Why bother? You're gonna get sweaty and nasty anyway."

"Tch." Shizuka rolled her eyes. "The mess from cooking and the mess from training are different."

"Whatever."

Training with Inosuke, Tanjirou, Zenitsu, and Kanao lasted longer than Shizuka had anticipated. Midmorning turned to afternoon as the hours passed until the teens collapsed from exhaustion.

Shizuka felt her whole body tremble and her vision swam. Their training wasn't especially intense though. Still, she felt absolutely drained.

"It's time you guys took a break!" a voice called from the door. "Wash up and then come grab lunch!"

Dammit! Shizuka buried her face in her hands. I guess I can have everything prepared for dinner!

A soak in the bath and a hearty meal revitalized the teens, Shizuka most of all. Shizuka finished eating and was prepared to return to the kitchen only for Inosuke to stop her.

"Hey. You're gonna teach me how to read more stuff, got it," he said plainly.

"Inosuke, you can't just demand things from a girl," Zenitsu chided. "Besides, me and Tanjirou can teach you too."

"Well you two suck at teaching!"

"Say that again, you swine!"

"Calm down, guys!" exclaimed Tanjirou as he tried to play peacemaker. "Inosuke, you don't have to be so critical. And Zenitsu, you don't need to be so offended!"

"Tch. Seriously?" I was going to agree anyway. Shizuka glanced at Kanao. The other girl gave a close-eyed smile and shrugged her shoulders.

In the end, Shizuka ended up bringing Inosuke to her borrowed room at the mansion to read through some children's books, courtesy of Shinobu. They sat side-by-side on her bed, the book of focus held between them. They went back and forth reading sentences and if Inosuke ever stumbled, Shizuka would get him back on track. Occasionally, Shizuka would glance at her pillow, under which her gift was hidden.

The reading session lasted until evening due to Inosuke's insistence of reading every book.

"The end," Shizuka said while closing the final book. She looked out the window and at the early night sky. The dinner is going to be late I guess. Her eyes were drawn to the pillow. Shizuka reached a hand under it and slowly slid the wrapped haori out from under.

"Hey, Shizuka."

Immediately, Shizuka's head turned at the sound of her name, her actual name. Inosuke smiled at her, differently than how he usually did. This time, his grin was soft. He slung an arm around Shizuka's shoulders and buried his face in her hair.

Shizuka felt feverish from head to toe. Her heart skipped. Her breath hitched. All because of Inosuke's closeness.

"I know I drag you around a lot but it's 'cause I like spending time with you," Inosuke whispered. "Especially today. It's the first birthday I really got to have. And having you be a part of it was nice. Thanks."

Turning, Shizuka let go of the wrapped gift then embraced Inosuke.

"Anything for you," she whispered back. "Happy birthday, Inosuke."

[skinks]

I see your “fake/pretend dating” scenarios and I ask instead of you: “we’re secretly together and desperately trying to hide it” scenarios

Richie and Eddie finally get their shit together a week before Bev and Ben’s wedding, and after a whole lot of arguing and contingency plans and naked, sweaty discussion, they decide that if they don’t wanna steal that hetero thunder, they have to try their hardest to act like they’re not a Thing

and it’s a mess. They spend the whole week of bachelor parties (Losers plus Patty sans Bev get sad drunk and wish Bev was there) and bachelorette parties (Losers plus Patty sans Ben wear feather boas and get sorority drunk with Bev’s fashion friends, gossip about Ben and sing karaoke) pretending they’re not sneaking off to bone in every unoccupied room they possibly can

It’s a MESS. Richie figures the years of practice at pathetic, secret longing mean they should be better at this than they are. Like yeah, they’re still hovering in this awkward limbo stage where it’s both terribly exciting and horribly embarrassing to be crossing meat swords with your long lost best bro, while knowing you’re both totally into it, but they already acted so couple-y beforehand that it’s probably WEIRDER if Eddie stops smiling all fond and fixing Richie’s hair, or if Richie stops slinging his arm around Eddie at every opportunity. But that’s letting their guard down, and they keep freezing and jumping apart in the middle of casual conversation. They’re standing with Bill and Audra and Patty and Mike in some hotel function room, discussing whether or not stealing Ben’s yacht is feasible when Richie oh-so-gently says “hey—c’mere,” and wipes a smudge of chocolate fondue (contains nuts!!) from Eddie’s mouth with his thumb. Everyone stops talking. Everyone stares. Eddie stares. And Richie needs to duck and cover so he sort of - slaps him? Not even hard enough to make a noise, it’s more of a tap-then-push. He pushes Eddie’s face. “Is that Staniel I hear,” Richie says, after a moment.

“I don’t hear anything,” Patty says.

“No no, that’s definitely Stan,” Richie says, backing swiftly to the door. Eddie’s eyes are on him accusing and hot, dark brown like the chocolate smeared on Richie’s thumb. Later, Eddie will suck the taste off where it’s stuffed in his mouth to keep quiet as they fuck below deck in Ben’s stolen yacht, Mike and Bill fighting overhead about who gets to wear the blue and white captain’s hat. Eddie’s pants are barely even pulled down. Richie does his Quint From Jaws Voice and goes duh-dun, duh-dun as Eddie pushes inside so Eddie will bite his thumb and fuck him harder. It’s all very undignified, and illicit, and stupid. Eddie loves it. “I have great ears, Pattycake, and Stanley makes this sort of, uh, echolocation type noise when he’s having issues with hotel staff. I should know, I went on vacation once with his family, to the Catskills? Stan spilled soup on a waiter and every bat in the fuckin’ place came right outta the forest and flew into the buffet. Don’t ask him about it though, one man’s vigilante origin story is another man’s traumatic childhood. Okay bye.” Richie definitely doesn’t run, but running away is more about aura than gait.

Audra frowns. “Did he just imply Batman didn’t have a traumatic childhood?”

“Haha,” Eddie deflects, stuffing his hand in his pocket, and missing. “He must’ve had the shrimp. Fucked up that he’s the one with the actual shellfish allergy, right? Isn’t that irony, or something?”

“That would be ironic, if you didn’t know everything we’re all allergic to by heart and would never let Richie eat shrimp,” Bill says, still staring.

“I would,” Eddie says immediately. He can’t find his fucking pocket. “I would totally let Richie eat shrimp.”

“You slapped his slice of pizza out of his hand last week because there was oyster sauce in the marinara,” Mike says, but Eddie is already actually running away. Wow, he’s fast.

Even with the Losers, Richie’s only out by implication, but it’d still be weird if he, for some reason, brought a woman as his date. He thinks about bringing Sven the Sound Guy because he’s as opposite to Eddie as it’s possible to find on short notice since Guy Fieri was unavailable, but he can’t decide whether this is genius cover or so on the nose as to be damning. He goes stag in the end, which is perhaps most damning of all. Eddie is in Schrodinger’s closet, because he doesn’t have to answer either way if nobody fucking asks him, and nobody does, because Eddie always starts doing whatever he’s currently doing to an incredibly intense level whenever the conversation turns to dating. One time at dinner when they were all in the same city for one of Richie’s tentative, low-key comeback shows, someone mentioned post-divorce dating apps, and then someone simply said the word Grindr not even in Eddie’s direction and Eddie cut his steak so hard he scratched the plate. This was an achievement in and of itself seeing as the clown took Eddie’s fork-arm, but Richie was spearing his steak for him while he cut it. He’s an enabler. An enabler to steak, and freakouts.

Anyway, even with all of this, it’s still weird that Eddie brings a woman. She’s Paula. From work. Stan sees her checking her phone so often that he figures out she’s one of the women in the matching white wedding dresses on her lock screen. Stan nudges Patty, who becomes very insistent that they should tell Eddie before he gets his heart broken, but Eddie is probably too busy periodically kicking out the backs of Richie’s knees to make him wobble and buckle against the bar to notice, or care.

Bev has great fucking aim, is the thing. There’s a lost catapult and a space-alien dead as a dodo can attest to it, but she’s still facing the opposite direction and could never predict that her bouquet toss would bounce off two different bridesmaids’ heads, straight into Richie’s hands. They’re so beautiful. White and orange and a rich, nautical blue that matches Eddie’s suit, tidily pinned up at the right shoulder and pressed hard into Richie’s side. Bev is laughing delightedly and Ben is taking a photo, and Eddie has been getting steadily drunker ever since he got back half an hour ago from gratefully sending Paula home to her wife in an Uber with some cake. He’s all pink across the bridge of his nose and he looks so fucking adorable with Ben’s blue and white yacht captain hat tilted on his head at a rakish angle, and the others are all catcalling so hard that Richie figures they might as well give up the pretense. He kicks out the back of Eddie’s knees so he’ll buckle into Richie’s flowery arms and fucking DIPS him like that old wartime photo even though Eddie’s the one with the sailor hat getting knocked off his head because they’re kissing so enthusiastically, clinging to the back of Richie’s neck and snortlaughing into his mouth, but suddenly everyone’s shouting, and they all sound - not pissed, exactly, but certainly indignant

“Are you guys serious,” Bill says, “you’re stealing their thunder right now? One major childhood romance realized isn’t enough, you’re gonna crash theirs?”

“Wait,” Richie says

Bev throws up her hands. Richie can’t see, because of her dress, but he’s pretty sure her foot is actually tapping. “Why didn’t you tell us!”

Eddie is still dangling off him like a monkey, all stunned-drunk limp with the bouquet shoved in his face. Richie hears what uh oh sounds like muffled by flowers, and Ben silently takes another photo, like he’s cataloguing a crime scene.

“You guys... didn’t know? We actually kept it a secret?”

“Until now, you jackasses!”

“What secret,” Audra asks, appearing with like eight plates of cake. “What’s happening? Oh wait, I’m caught up.”

“But—but—the fondue,” Eddie says, and seriously, it’s not like the clown ripped his legs off, he could try standing and facing this with Richie like a true bro, but Richie’s kind of enjoying the weight of him. Plus he’s pretty sure Bev won’t dare to go through Eddie to kill him, so. Human shield it is.

“What about the fondue?” Mike looks like he did after the end of The Usual Suspects. Like he’s re-evaluating every time Richie and Eddie left a room together, and wishes he wasn’t. “You guys are like that all the time.”

“Then why were you all staring!”

“Nobody was staring! It was a natural lull in conversation, we were weirded out that you were being weird about it! Have you always been this self-centered?”

“I guess so,” Richie shrugs. He looks down at Eddie, covered in pollen and thoroughly confused. He’s so drunk he’s looking kinda cross-eyed. “You hear that, dude? We were killing it, until we fucked it all up!”

Eddie grins up at him. “Good enough!” he slurs, and then lets go of Richie’s neck for a high five. Everyone’s gone back to ignoring them in favour of dancing to Journey, so at least nobody notices Richie’s so eager to return it that he drops Eddie on the floor instead

[c4pricornc4ts]

Who Would Ever Want to be King? Chapter Two

Read chapter one on tumblr here or read both chapters on ao3 here!

Tubbo meets a moobloom, Tommy is kind of an asshole. 

At some point Eret must've dozed off because he wakes up to Tubbo almost on top of him and poking him gently, blue eyes framed by messy brown hair looking down at him.

“Good morning?” He laughs before leaning forward to check on a still sleeping Tommy. The sunrise was starting to fill the room with golden light, he hoped it wouldn’t wake the injured boy. Head injuries always lingered, at least the side effects do.

He replaces the bandages on Tommy’s forehead while Tubbo watches apprehensively. He was bouncing slightly which was shaking the bed.

“That can’t be good for Tommy” Eret murmurs, before deciding he needs to get Tubbo to stop. “What’s on your mind?”

The boy stops bouncing, he freezes like a deer in headlights. “I don’t know?” He tilts his head and looks apologetic about it.

“What do you think about breakfast?”

“What about Tommy?”

“We’ll make him some too.” The king walks over to the door, turning to wait on Tubbo to climb down the bed and join him. Both were still in their pajamas, but that could be fixed later.

They decide on pancakes, Tubbo insisting on getting all the ingredients out himself. Except the eggs. Eret didn’t want to clean up a dropped egg right now. Or ever really.

Tubbo’s watching Eret mix everything together, his head pressed against the wood and his arm laying across the table as far as he could reach. “Where do you get all this? It’s not exactly like you have a market around here.”

“I farm for myself. It’s not too difficult to feed one person.” He puts another pancake on the stack and pours one more.

“Will we make it difficult?” He whispers.

“Not if I put you two to work.” He waits for Tubbo to complain at even the mention of work but the boy seems completely nonchalant and just plays with his sleeve.

By ‘work’ Eret means feeding the cows and collecting eggs from the chickens. And even though the definition of ‘work’ for a kid raised in the middle of a war must be a lot more dangerous and draining, Tubbo doesn’t argue at all.

“I don’t think Tommy can do much yet.” He sits up in his chair as Eret brings over two plates of pancakes and a jar of syrup.

“You’re right. Which is why me and you will go out today, Tommy needs to rest.”

“What will we do?” He’s eating very messily but he supposes they could talk about manners a different day. For now he just hands him a dish towel.

“How do you feel about mooblooms?”

Tubbo drops his fork and yells with excitement. Eret flinches at the noise but smiles nonetheless.

After Tubbo brings Tommy a slightly smaller portion of breakfast, (As Eret was fairly confident he wasn’t going to be up for eating today and just didn’t want to tell Tubbo no to giving his friend something.) They head through the wooden door that leads to the courtyard.

He calls it a courtyard but really it’s much bigger than a courtyard and houses a lot of animals and plants. He tries to keep it at least a little nice, evidenced by the hyacinth hanging from the columns. They were all the same deep blue color, and everywhere he could hang them he did.

Tubbo walks right up to the cows who have free range of the yard. Eret lets him play around with the dandelion covered cow as he knows that she wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“What’s her name?” Tubbo calls to him from where he’s getting water out of the well.

He picks up the bucket, pouring the contents into the watering can. “They don’t have names Tubbo.” He doesn’t mean to sound so blunt but he’s pretty inexperienced with people.

“Well I think she looks like Daisy. Can we name her that? Please? I think she’d really appreciate it if she had a name.” He has his arms wrapped around the cow’s neck, and his head is buried in her side while she eats grass like nothing is happening at all.

Eret decides not to comment on the fact that it’s a bit silly to name a cow covered in dandelions a different flower name. It didn’t matter that much anyways, and he’s gotta admit, she does look like a Daisy. “Sure, I like it, ‘Daisy the Moobloom’. Now can you go get some hay for them? She and her friends need to eat too.”

He points to the bales of hay in the back of the cow’s shelter and Tubbo hurries to get some. Eret finishes watering all the flowers and is moving on to the crops and Tubbo is laughing as all the cows surround him trying to get some hay when they’re interrupted by a door opening.

“What are you two doing without me? I don’t want to be alone anymore. It's really, really boring.” Eret looks up to see Tommy leaning over his bedroom balcony, his blond hair covering most of his face as he looks down.

“Tommy, you fell! You’re supposed to be bored because if something exciting happens and then your head will hurt again!” Tubbo shouts up at him, on his tiptoes as if that’ll help his voice carry.

Eret thinks Tubbo’s voice didn’t need any help, the boy was very polite but he was also very loud. He’s thankful the boy is though, or Eret might not have found them in the woods.

“My head is fine!” He whines dramatically.

“I really don’t think it is Tommy, you were bleeding and shit.”

“Language!”

“Sorry Eret! You were bleeding and STUFF.” He corrects himself.

Tommy runs back inside and moments later is out in the courtyard himself. Eret’s impressed he found the door that quickly, but who knows, maybe Tubbo had explored the castle after Eret went to bed last night.

“You really should rest Tommy, you were out cold last night.”

“I don’t need another adult in my life telling me what to do. If I wanted that I would be with Wilbur still.” He brushes past Eret pointedly knocking into his shoulder.

“Well, if your head starts hurting again you tell me okay?”

“Whatever.” Tommy dismisses him before going and trying to jump the chicken fence, keyword trying. The blond seems to go still and doesn’t even try to finish pulling himself over. Eret drops the watering can and rushes over to catch him.

“Alright that’s it you’re going back to bed.” Eret drags him to his feet and leans over to support the boy’s weight.

“No I-I’m fucking fine y-you bitch.” The king bites back a smile at the boy’s weak attempt at an insult while concussed. He supposes he should be more upset with all the attitude he’s been shown but really, it’s worth having some company.

They keep walking towards the doors back inside, and Tommy keeps digging his heels in the grass and trying to turn back. Looking at Tubbo like he’ll never see the other again. Eret sighs, he wasn’t heartless enough to separate them if Tommy was going to look that broken about it.

“Tubbo, I’ll finish up out here. Can you go sit with Tommy for a bit?” The boy looks so happy with the animals he really hates taking him back inside. But he had a feeling Tommy wasn’t going to stay in the bedroom unless Tubbo’s there too.

He passes Tommy to Tubbo carefully since Tommy was a bit taller than his friend. “I don’t need to go inside. You’re being ridiculous.” He argues the whole way but never once tries to stop Tubbo physically. Eret supposes the arguing was more of a defensive thing.

Eret finishes up with the animals and spends the rest of the day checking the castle over after the storm last night. He goes in before dinner and prepares the room next to the one Tommy and Tubbo have taken over. The whole time he doesn’t hear a word from the other room. Hopefully they’re both resting and haven’t just run off.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s done that. And Eret can’t really think of why people do, he’s really just trying to help.

He washes their clothes and tries not to fall asleep when he hangs everything up to dry. The sun had been mostly covered by clouds, making the whole castle overcast. Maybe he should go out and buy some lights. The problem is that would mean finding a market, which means finding a village and villages well, those have people. More people than the king wants to be around.

He starts a fire under the stove, it’s perhaps a little early to start dinner but who’s counting? He reaches for the steak he has stored away but pauses when he remembers how enamored Tubbo was with the mooblooms.

Chicken it is then.

“Don’t you ever get tired of only blue flowers?” Eret jumps and turns around, holding out a wooden spoon. He sets it down on the counter next to him when he sees it’s just Tubbo. He had to get used to extra people. Or Tubbo had to stop coming up behind him. They both make a mental note to work on it.

He turns back around, stirring the contents in the pot. “Do you think they look bad?”

“Well, they look nice really they do! It just feels… sad.”

He wants to just tell the boy that’s the point, they’re supposed to be sad. But he can’t bring himself to talk about it.

“I saw pink flowers in the woods, I could plant them here if you want.” Tubbo sounds hopeful, trying to pass off wanting pink flowers as something for Eret only.

“I’d love that Tubbo. But not tonight alright? If Tommy sees you out there he’ll want to go too.” Tubbo makes an excited noise behind him and climbs the counter to Eret’s right. Leaning over the pot to look inside. Flinching when the steam hits his face.

Eret covers the pot and nudges Tubbo away, worried his hands would get burned. “It’s chicken and vegetables, I hope that’s alright.”

Tubbo nods quickly, and sits further back on the counter. Content to be near the stove fire as it gets colder in the castle. And the king is perfectly happy to have company. Even if said company almost falls off the counter several times before the soup is done.

Tubbo keeps talking about what he wants to name every cow as Eret pulls out a ladle and dishes out three bowls of the chicken soup. Placing them on a plastic tray before interrupting Tubbo’s rant. “We’re going to eat with Tommy, I need you to knock for me okay? My hands are... “ He tilts his head towards the tray in both his hands. “full.”

“Can we eat on the bed?”

Eret nods and laughs and starts walking up the castle steps towards the bedroom. Tubbo knocks on the wooden door. “Tommy? We brought dinner, are you awake?”

“Go away.”

Tubbo exchanges a confused look with Eret and tries to open the door. After a few attempts, they realize it’s locked. Eret didn’t even know his door still did that.

“Tommy please? What about me?” Tubbo sounds a little hurt that his friend would treat him so harshly especially without any reason.

The door unlocks with a click and is opened just enough for tiny hands to grab Tubbo by the collar of his shirt and yank him in the room. Tubbo squeaks in surprise and the door slams right in Eret’s face.

Eret keeps staring at the door, confused at what just happened when the door opens yet again and Tommy grabs two of the bowls before dashing back inside. He hears Tubbo whisper through the door. “He said he doesn’t wanna eat with a grownup. I’m sorry Eret but you fit that criteria I think.”

Well, he guesses he’ll go eat alone. Not like he hasn’t done that before.

Neither boy comes out of the room the rest of the night, so Eret tells them he’s next door before just settling in for the night. His books we’re all in the occupied room so he opts to just go to bed early.

For the second night in a row, he’s woken up by a scream. He watches as someone throws his door open and then slams it closed, leaning their whole body against it and panting heavily. The king sits up and tries to wake up enough for his eyesight to clear. “Tommy?”

“P-please don’t let Wilbur take me. I’m sorry I’m such a-an asshole.” The boy’s voice wobbles, and he sounds like he’s about to cry.

The words prompt Eret to jump out of bed and go pull Tommy away from the door. He wants to say it’s a bad dream but if the blond was this scared, maybe Wilbur really was here.

He remembers Wilbur being a good man, a leader who always had photos of his son and talked about his brothers from a different realm often. He never thought anyone would be closing doors in his face. Though, he never thought he’d betray his country either.

He sets Tommy on his bed and checks the hallway. There’s no one out there. It must have been a nightmare. He feels his arm being grabbed and turns back towards the bedroom to a very nervous Tommy trying to get him back in the room.

He obliges and closes the door, figuring out how to lock it tiredly while Tommy clung to him.

“Tommy, no ones out there. And even if there was, you’re safe here. I wouldn’t let anyone take you.” He’s holding the boy, surprised that he’s not being pushed away or sworn at.

“What about Tubbo?”

“I'll protect him too.” He confirms, gently carding his hands through the boy’s messy hair. Something he remembers people doing to him long ago.

“I’m sorry.” He says between sobs, and Eret just keeps whispering “It’s okay.” back.

They stay standing together like that till Eret is too tired to hold them both up and sits up against the headboard with some difficulty since Tommy does not want to let go.

Tommy is only occasionally sniffling when Eret starts to drift off. Barely even noticing the bed dip when Tubbo goes and curls up next to the pair.

Eret wraps an arm around Tubbo too before finally going back to sleep.