#and while i wait for the water to boil and tea to brew i should write something! for the sake of the log!

[missmeinyourbones]

if we make it through december

cw: mentions of holiday celebrations, family & childhood trauma, suna is a bit thick in the head but he's trying, i love u all and am giving u a very big hug this holiday season

The floors of your apartment creak beneath light footsteps when you tiptoe into the kitchen to click the heat on.

You keep forgetting that it's December now and that your heat should be switched to automatic rather than the manual setting it's still set to. Mornings like this where your nose is a bit raw from a dry sleep and you hiss at the cold floor skimming your bare feet remind you that the year has indeed passed.

In the almost year that the two of you have been together, you've learned that Rintaro sleeps both cold and like a damn log. Crawling from his dead-weight grasp early this morning was no challenge, and while your teeth are nearly chattering, you know he's more than comfortable beneath the sheets of your bed.

While you wait for the radiator to squeal and signal that it's doing its job, you fall into the usual routine of filling your kettle and preparing a cup of tea. You don't expect your lover to be up for a while, so you plan to preoccupy (and warm) yourself for a bit before he finally stumbles down the hall.

Water quickly boils and ceramic clanks together in the cabinet. And before you know it, you're silently admiring a freshly brewed cup of tea and adding your usual like of milk to it.

While lost in a spoonwork of swirling colors, you abruptly feel two cold hands inching beneath your sleep shirt. Instinctually, you hiss at the unwelcoming feeling as palms flatten and rub themselves against your goosebump-covered skin.

Into the back of your head, you hear Rintaro chuckle at your dramatics. He pulls you closer and kneels a bit so his chin can comfortably rest in the dent of your shoulder. You loosen a bit as he places a gentle kiss on your temple.

He clears his raspy throat, "Sorry, baby."

Rintaro laughs again when he feels you sigh but relax into his nippy touch. Loosening his hold on you, he allows you to shimmy around and face him - puffy morning eyes and all.

Between his steady arms and the kitchen counter, you raise your mug to his chapped lips. He gently blows on the top before taking a small taste, humming his thanks and approval at the warm sweetness on his tongue.

Your morning is enjoyed through shared sips and quiet words, and it feels like it's always supposed to be like this. It's warm and inviting, like a home you never really had unless you were asleep and yearning for it.

With a chilled nose and slightly burnt tongue, you're grateful.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Rintaro takes one more sip and swallows before letting you cradle it between your hands. "What're your plans for the holidays?"

You feel something crack inside of you. It's a tough thing to explain, but your heart sinks at his innocent question.

Not yet having spent a holiday together, you weren't naive to the fact that this conversation was inevitable. You'd expected it eventually, maybe not so soon; but again, the feeling of your apartment's heat finally kicking in reminds you that it is December and soon isn't really soon at all.

Trying too hard to be casual, you shrug and take a drink of your own, "Uh, nothing really."

You watch the corners of his mouth twitch with amusement. "Nothing?" he dryly chuckles.

Biting the inside of your cheek and praying to whoever is listening for him to just drop it, you choose to shrug once more.

He crinkles his nose with faux mocking,

"Nothing like 'boring family holiday party' nothing? Or 'stupid traditions you need to play along with, just to say you did' nothing?"

Feigning casualty and doing your best to look at anything that's not his eyes, you shake your head.

"Nah, I was just gonna stay here. Maybe make those cheap sugar cookies I like but," you gesture to the painfully silent apartment around you and preoccupy your mouth against the rim of your cup before weakly finishing, "...yeah."

You can see the gears quickly turning in Rintaro's head as he scans your face for any sign of humor; when he doesn't find one, he realizes that you're serious.

"Oh—I guess I just figured you'd be flying back to see your parents."

"No, I—” you wince at your own voice as you stutter on an explanation before pathetically deciding on, "—don't do that."

Quizzically, Rintaro's head turns to the side in thought. He backs up a bit, and you internally frown at the loss of warmth when he leans against the opposite counter to take a good look at you.

"What do you mean, you don't do that?"

He asks and there's no sourness in his voice. He's just asking—just wants to know and understand you as best as he can. And it kind of makes you nauseous with a feeling you instantly want to rid of.

You rub your sock-covered feet together in anxiousness, "We don't really talk."

"I mean, I don't talk to most of my family either, but I still go home for the holidays and show my face, do that weird small talk thing with them."

At any other moment, you'd laugh at his casual bluntness, but you don't have it in you when you know you aren't really on the same page.

With a weak smile, you shake your head and attempt to wrap up the situation once more. "It's no big deal. I'm all set."

Quick both on and off the court, he doesn't falter when he presses. "Well, when was the last time you saw them?"

You awkwardly laugh and do that thing you do, where your nose crinkles in hesitancy, knowing that he won't like your answer. Because even if Rintaro doesn't know everything about you, he does know a hell of a lot; and he'll be damned if he doesn't keep on learning more.

"Are you telling me that your family hasn't seen you in years?" he breathes in disbelief, unable to wrap his head around not spending time with his own parents and sister.

Feeling your patience wearing a bit thin at his innocent prodding of your insecurity, you sigh.

"It's just how things are with us."

Silence overtakes the small space of kitchen between the two of you. Rintaro stares at you, not with a judgemental gaze like everyone else who eventually finds this information out about you, but with a bittersweet one, as if he's trying to sort through and rotate your fragile puzzle pieces before being confident enough to insert them into place.

His voice comes in a soft whisper after a few moments, "You're really not going?"

"I… wasn't invited," you mimic his pitch without meeting his eyes.

"You… weren't invited home?"

"It's not really a home," you mumble, eyes stuck to the ground when you reassure him, "like I said, it's just complicated. I'm good, Rin."

Another gentle staring contest ensues, one with no words being said but a whole lot of unsaid thoughts ebbing and flowing between the two of you.

Just as you begin to crumble beneath his heavy gaze, Rintaro sighs and closes the gap between the two of you again. His hands carefully find your sides like they always do, but this time with a bit more caution. He's careful when he easily lifts you onto the counter, trying to make it a bit easier for him to hold your gaze.

You feel like a child again, guilt rotting in the pit of your stomach as your eyes are glued to your feet swinging against the lower cabinets of your kitchen. You wonder if the floorboards can swallow you up, take you back to that place of stable loneliness.

"You know you can tell me these things, right?" he softly kisses into your hairline. "You don't have to, but you can."

You nod against his movements, not really wanting to explain but knowing you should. It's Rintaro, you know he'll understand, but a small part of you can't help but still errs on the side of caution.

"It's for the better, really."

Your words are muffled against his chest. You feel hum nod slowly, letting you take your time while silently encouraging you to continue if you'd like.

And you do.

"Just didn't have a great childhood. Lots of dealing with my parents' mistakes and helping out with my siblings because of it."

Tender fingers skim the soft angle of your jaw when Rintaro hums, "That was really brave of you."

You feel that wall building itself up again, but you can't stop it, don't know how to. "It was fine," you shrug off his kindness, deflecting it how you know to.

And the small, sane part of you sighs in relief because Rintaro notices. He can't help but notice.

He presses against your skin, "It wasn't. Kids aren't supposed to raise kids."

He's right, you know he is. You wish you could just say that, but all that comes out of your mouth is a detached, "Well, it's over now."

"It is," he gently agrees with your words, taking a thumb to your bottom lip and tilting your head upwards, "and I'm proud of you. You did good, baby."

You're little again, and there's suddenly no room for the praise to fit inside of you. Your body rejects it, forces it to well up in your eyes and trickle down your cheeks in a feeble attempt to rid of the uneasy feeling in your throat.

And you're crying. Wetly and awkwardly laughing, you quickly flick the tears from your cheeks as you shy away from the intimacy. "Ew, sorry. Thanks."

Rintaro sadly smiles at you--always sorry for nothing, and now he's beginning to understand why.

"C'mere," he cradles the back of your head again and lets you breathe in the scent of his hoodie.

"Sorry—"

"Stop apologizing," he firmly kisses your forehead, hoping for it to seep beneath your skin and stick itself inside of you.

He feels your smaller frame shake against him, and he's instantly relieved to know it's out of a weak laugh rather than a sob. You murmur, "I just—I'm sure you know by now that I—can't really handle nice things."

"Hey," his now warm hand rubs circles on your back, "you deserve nice things, y'know?"

No longer letting you shy away from his words, he uses his free hand to lift your jaw upwards again. Met with your teary eyes and sniffing nose, he peppers kisses against your skin with care.

"And if you'd stop being so stubborn all the time, maybe I could give you nice things more often, yeah?"

His heart flutters when you roll your eyes at his words, and he can't bite back the smile that crawls across his face at your usual attitude.

As he caresses your damp cheek with slender fingers, you speak into the side of his palm. "You give me enough nice things."

Rintaro smiles but shakes his head, "Really, I don't."

Another big shaky breath rocks your frame, and Rintaro melts at your bravery when you tell him, "No one's ever really cared for me the way you do, and I guess it freaks me out sometimes." You catch yourself almost apologizing for it, but bite your tongue; and as if he too notices it, he smiles with pride.

"We can work on it," he promises, hand heavy on your back, "I'm not goin' anywhere."

He holds you for as long as you'll let him, and in a tangle of limbs and soft kisses, you sway in one another's warmth. It's just the two of you, in your tiny kitchen apartment with shitty heating, when he says--

"So, what are our holiday plans?"

"Our?" You shoot him a weak warning glare. "I said I'm staying here. You should go home though, it'll be nice to see your sister."

"We will be going home, yeah. Mom's been annoying me about meeting in person you, anyways."

Your eyes find his and that unsettling feeling fills your heart once more, but this time, it seeps further than your throat. It's in the tips of your fingers and works its way down to your sock-clad toes. It's in your lungs, entering with every inhale and doubling with each exhale.

It's everywhere—and even though it's terrifying, you sit with it. Because it's yours.

He gently brushes some stray hairs behind your ear and sighs, "And if I'm gonna sit through a painful holiday dinner, think I'm gonna need you there to hold my hand."

[imtrashraccoon]

Hello amazing people! This one might be a bit of a stretch but oh well...

Thanks to @scrambledmeggys once again for the prompts!

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day

Day 6: Coffee Shop

You filled the kettle up with water from the tap and set it on the stove to boil. With each passing day, you found yourself missing your favorite coffee shop more and more. While you weren't a religious coffee drinker like some people, you could appreciate a well brewed cup of joe. It was something special you allowed yourself every now and then.

While you could make yourself coffee, you tried not to once it got late in the day as the extra caffeine was never a good idea. Monster coffee also had a different flavour from any kinds you'd tried on the surface, but you weren't enough of a coffee snob to care. They did make good teas though, which was what you were preparing now.

You'd seemingly made a full recovery from the injuries you'd sustained from the fall over the few weeks you'd been here. This was probably thanks to the healing properties of monster food, which you were still completely blown away by. On the surface, you probably would've been confined to the hospital or at the very least on bed rest for a couple months. Then again, you weren't sure how bad your injuries had really been in the first place.

Unfortunately, your mind now turned to what you should do next. You'd promised to keep Frisk safe no matter what happened, but you'd also made another promise to yourself the day you'd fallen down here. That being, to get back to the surface or at least get Frisk back to the surface.

You hadn't mentioned it to Frisk but you'd had your doubts from the beginning that you two would make it this long. Then, you discovered Frisk's ability and your survivability had improved, but you didn't feel right relying on Frisk to constantly reset. It would be terrible for their mental health to constantly witness your death and you knew it already had affected them. Still, you wanted to do what was best for them and let them live a normal life again.

Suddenly, Papyrus was standing next to you and had reached over to remove the whistling kettle from the stove. You hadn't even noticed it was boiling with how focused on your thoughts you'd been. It was actually slightly embarrassing if you were being honest.

Papyrus proceeded to wordlessly pour the hot water into your mug as well as one he'd grabbed from the cupboard for himself. After setting the kettle down on the stove again, he slid your mug closer to you and added some sugar to his own.

You added some sugar to your mug and waited silently for the tea to steep. You didn't really know what you should say or if you should say anything at all. So, you just opted for a quiet, "Thank you," for the moment. Papyrus nodded, but he seemed to be having a similar problem as you, or maybe he just didn't feel up for conversation.

"oh come on, kiddo!" you heard Sans grumble from the living room, accompanied by the distinctive sounds of furious button mashing.

You peeked into the living room to find both him and Frisk engaged in what you thought was a game of Mario Kart, although you weren't an expert on retro video games so you weren't entirely sure which version it was. Maybe Mario Kart 64? Either way, they looked like they were having fun and you couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"Frisk Seems To Like It Here," Papyrus commented quietly.

Slightly surprised, you looked over at him. "I guess so?" You went back to the counter to remove the tea bag from your mug as it was likely steeped properly by now.

Papyrus put his hand on your shoulder when you turned back around and gently guided you to sit down at the kitchen table. He sat down across from you and took a sip from his own tea.

"Is That So Surprising?" he finally asked, his scarlet eyelights never leaving your face as he spoke.

You stared down at your tea and frowned slightly. He was right, Frisk did seem happier lately, yet you couldn't help but feel conflicted. They deserved to be free to experience all the things a child their age would, not being confined indoors all the time.

They should go to school to learn and explore the great wide world before it was too late. They should make friends their own age, not just weird adults. They should discover themselves and figure out what they wanted to do with their life.

It wasn't fair. You would do anything to give them the best in life. In fact, you would give up your very life at this point just so they could have a shot at being happy.

"I... I don't know what to do," you murmured. "You and your brother have been so kind but I worry for their future. It'll become suffocating for them as they grow up, don't you think?"

Papyrus frowned and leaned forward slightly in his chair. "If You Are Saying That You Think Frisk Would Be Happier Back On The Surface, There Is Something You Need To Know. It Is Impossible For Anyone To Cross The Barrier On Their Own. The Only Known Way Is If You Absorb A Monster Soul, Meaning You Will Have To Somehow Kill King Asgore. However, Even If You Could Kill Him, It Would Only Work For You And Not Frisk, Unless They Were The One Who Absorbed His Soul Instead."

The kitchen seemed to grow icy as he spoke and yet you couldn't bring yourself to look away from him. You swallowed thickly, feeling your palms grow sweaty and your heartbeat beginning to echo in the back of your skull.

"The Only Other Way Is If The Barrier Is Broken, But We Need Two More Human Souls Before That Can Happen And I Do Not Want You Two To Be Those Souls." Papyrus sighed and clenched his fists slightly before continuing, "You Were Able To Convince Me And Sans, But You Will Not Be Able To Just Talk To The King. He Will Kill Both Of You And You Will Not Be Able To Do Anything..."

"Why are you telling me all this?" you asked quietly. "We've always known the stakes but we pushed through anyways."

"Because, We Have Become Rather Fond Of Both Of You. I Am Suggesting That You Consider Staying Here More Permanently."

Papyrus hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I Want You To Stay, Rihanna. No, I Need You To Stay..." His eyelights quivered slightly and the tone of his voice was rough with emotion.

You stared at him, trying to figure out if you'd heard him correctly. There was something there that he hadn't said out loud. Whether he had the strength to do so or not, you couldn't decide.

"Alright, we'll stay..." you muttered. "I'm not making any promises though, okay?"

While he was right, you weren't fully convinced it would be as impossible as he'd made it out. Surely there was another way to get back to the surface...right?

[thepointoftheneedle]

Lockwood and Co

Well, I watched the show because I'd enjoyed the books ages ago. For some reason the show made me want to write fiction which I haven't done for an age. Will I continue it? No clue. Maybe...? It's canon after The Empty Grave but I've tried to avoid major spoilers for anyone who has only seen the tv show and hasn't read the books. Anyway, here's the prologue in case anyone else enjoyed the silly little ghost-hunting show.

Lockwood stalked into the kitchen and turned on the gas under the kettle. As he reached for the Earl Grey his elbow nudged the charred skull that sat on the kitchen worktop and he smiled wryly at the incongruous domestic arrangements in place in Portland Row.  “Alas, poor Skull,” he murmured. “People always misquote that line you know, Skull.  ‘Alas poor Yorick, I knew him Horatio,’ not ‘I knew him well.’  Idiots.”

He dropped a teabag into a mug and leaned back against the counter, waiting for the whistle of the kettle.  It wasn’t worth making a pot; he was alone in the house.  Holly was at home, packing.  George was at the embassy poring over maps of the Paris Catacombs with the representative of the French Ministère des Evénements Paranormaux.  Lucy was with Barnes at the passport office in Petit France. If Barnes couldn’t pull some strings, that would be as close as she’d get to France.  Lockwood and Co. would have to go without her.  It didn’t bear thinking about.

“We’ve got a lot in common you know Skull,” he said as the kettle began to sing.  He knew he wouldn’t get a response.  The Skull had made the ultimate sacrifice for them, given up his life… afterlife… whatever the hell it had had, to save them at the showdown at Fittes House.  Well, to save Lucy really. He’d just been an unintended beneficiary of the Skull’s heroism.  He poured the boiling water into the mug and set the kettle down. He picked up the blackened bone, stared into its ruined sockets. “We were both prepared to die for her.  I think I’m a little bit jealous that you got to do it.”

Still holding the skull, Lockwood sat down at the table, waiting for his tea to brew.  Lucy would have been mashing the bag against the side of the mug with a teaspoon, or a fork, or whatever came to hand like an absolute savage.  He preferred to wait, to let the scent of bergamot pervade the warm kitchen on the steam rising from the mug. “Ever been to Paris, Skull?” he asked.  “My parents went there on honeymoon.  They had a guidebook. It must be in the library somewhere.  Art galleries and parks and cafes on the Rive Gauche.  I think they stayed in a grand hotel near the Luxembourg Gardens.”  He chuckled but there was no mirth in it. “That’s what she should have of course.  She should be going to Paris with someone who can give her all that, order escargot in garlic at a fancy restaurant just to see her face when she realises what it is, walk hand in hand with her through the Tuilleries, kiss her breath away in front of one of those huge water lily paintings that make you feel like you’re floating. All that romantic stuff.  Instead, she gets me, a rapier and a guaranteed brush with death. Even you’d do better than that wouldn’t you, Skull? Give her candles and rose petals on the carpet and a little chocolate in gold paper on her pillow.   I mean you couldn’t do much else I suppose, couldn’t follow through on any of it but then, I don’t do that either, do I?  Never even kissed her. I’m more of a ghost than you ever were, trapped behind silver glass, no idea how to get out.”

The skull said nothing.  Lockwood shook his head, appalled by his own mawkish foolishness.  He stood, snatched up his mug, grasped a corner of the scalding teabag and flicked it across the kitchen into the bin while heading out of the room. Behind him, on the thinking cloth, the skull flickered softly with a greenish flame.

[proximacentaurib]

Was planning on officially entering physics study jail at 8:00 PM (after not doing much all day) but I kept getting distracted by everything. I was like “I should sort my laundry” and then halfway through that I was like “wait I should take my meds” and then I realized my Brita was empty so I went to go fill that so that I could have water to take my meds with and came back and was like “I should also make tea” and then I realized I needed to wash my tea bottle first so I set the water to boil and went to go wash my tea bottle and then came back and realized I should put my new bedsheet on my bed so I did that and then I was like “wait MY MEDS” so I took them and started brewing my tea and then went back to the bedsheet and finished sorting my laundry and then I was like “I should open the window” so I opened the window and then I noticed that one of my art prints was unsticking from the wall so I stuck that back on and then somehow ended up doomscrolling in my bean bag for an hour and also spent 15 minutes trying to track down a movie based on a very vague memory of seeing a trailer about it 3 years ago (never found it) and now it’s 10:30 and I just realized I never removed the tea bag from my tea and also just became aware of how badly I need to pee because of the amount of water I drank while trying to swallow my meds. Also my heart is going to beat itself out of my chest I’m so scared I don’t want to take this exam. Goddddd save me

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Future Scene in Brewing Romance and Dissent

This scene is set in the future of Brewing Romance and Dissent, where I turned pre-canon into a coffeeshop AU. AKA While recovering from a spear to the eye, Iorveth opens a coffee shop in the Royal Quarter in Vizima. For Intelligence Purposes, mind you. (Flirting with the human regular is for intelligence purposes too.)

--

When Roche entered Vrihedd Bean-gade after pulling an all-nighter tracking down some information for the King, he was very much not expecting to walk into a veritable crowd of people. Blinking stupidly as he stood in the door, Roche slowly comprehended that apparently the people of Vizima had come to appreciate elven coffee, because the shop was downright bursting with customers.

Someone ran into him with a grumble, and he quickly shuffled out of the way, wondering if it was worth waiting. On the one hand, he should probably sleep instead of drinking coffee, and waiting in line was the last thing he wanted to do. On the other hand, he did want to see Iorveth and his coffee stops were the one time he got to do so. But with as busy as it was, Iorveth for sure wouldn’t have time to talk.

While he was still struck with indecision, Iorveth spotted him as the elf went about preparing and handing out drinks. When their eyes met, Iorveth jerked his head to the side, summoning Roche over to Iorveth’s corner of the counter. He went, biting his lip against an eager smile, already feeling more awake.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” Iorveth moved around as he spoke, preparing another drink. “You look like you’re about to drop.” He turned away to call a customer’s name, and Roche stepped aside so that they could retrieve their drink.

“Worked all night.”

Iorveth grimaced. “Why aren’t you sleeping right now, then? Surely you’re not going back to work.”

“No,” Roche shook his head, “I’ve got the rest of the day off.”

“Good,” Iorveth said, setting water to boil for another drink. “But that brings us back to ‘why aren’t you sleeping right now’?”

“Ah,” he stammered, scratching the back of his neck. “I – uh – I wanted to see you.” The way Iorveth bit his lip against a smile made Roche feel less awkward, and he smiled back, clearing his throat. “But, you’re busy, so–”

“Here,” Iorveth said, holding out a steaming cup. Roche just blinked at it and Iorveth rolled his eye. “It’s tea. It’ll help you sleep. Because you need to go fucking sleep.”

“Oh.” Feeling slightly adrift at the deviation in their usual routine, Roche took the drink, wrapping his fingers around the clay to warm them. Then he raised it to his mouth for a sip and closed his eyes as he let out a soft hum.

“What’s in it?” He asked, starting to hit the stage of tired where everything went a little bit hazy. 

“Chamomile, lavender, a few other herbs. You don’t really care,” Iorveth pointed out. “Go sleep, Vernon. You can come visit me after you’ve slept at least 8 hours.”

Roche frowned. “Won’t your shift be over?”

“Technically, I’m the owner and my shift is whenever I want.” 

“Oh.”

“Go home and go to sleep, Vernon,” Iorveth said, lips twitching upwards. “I’ll see you later.”

“I – yeah. Later,” Roche nodded, not entirely certain what had just happened. But his feet were eager to follow Iorveth’s orders and he found himself standing in front of his door, despite having no memory of the walk over. All he really remembered was the warm chamomile steam curling up from his cup and the floral lavender taste of the tea Iorveth had made for him.

Grinning stupidly, he stumbled inside and made his way to the bedroom, finishing off his tea and faceplanting into his bed, falling asleep within moments.

--

As Vernon wandered out of the shop, Iorveth caught Maeral’s raised eyebrow and flushed, clearing his throat and preparing the next drink. Fortunately, they were too busy for her to say anything, but Maeral wasn’t one to forget things. Especially not things that could prove embarrassing for Iorveth.

It took several hours for the rush to die down, and by the time the shop was finally empty, all customers seen to, they were both exhausted, leaning back against the counter and taking time to just breathe.

Which was, of course, when Maeral turned to him with a gleam in her eyes. “Soooo,” she drawled.

“So?”

“So,” she enunciated pointedly, “that’s the dh’oine Cedric mentioned, huh?”

Iorveth swallowed. “No idea. Why don’t you ask Cedric?”

Maeral scoffed, throwing a coffee filter at him. It fluttered through the air and landed on his head. 

“Vernon, I think Cedric said his name was?” she tapped her finger against her lip. “I thought Cedric was exaggerating when he claimed to see you flirting, but uh – that was totally flirting. Nice going, Boss.”

Iorveth flushed, and compensated for it with anger. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh. Soooo, what’s your plan for when he shows up later? After all, you won’t be working,” she waggled her eyebrows suggestively and Iorveth shook his head forcefully enough to send his braids flying through the air.

“You make it sound like a date. It’s just a fucking meeting.”

“Yes, indeed, a fucking meeting,” Maeral laughed and Iorveth genuinely hadn’t thought about Vernon in that context before, he hadn’t. 

But now that Maeral mentioned it… he thought about the way Vernon’s hands were so warm when they brushed against his as he passed Vernon a drink. Was all of Vernon that hot? What would that feel like pressed against him? He licked his lips, swallowing and shaking his head slightly. It was best not to think of such things, especially not around Maeral. Besides, it wasn’t as if it would ever actually happen. Even if he was curious, Vernon was a dh’oine.

[the-home-brew]

Starting with my Favorites

Hello! Welcome to my blog dedicated to discovering and trying all things coffee and tea. No better way to wake up than with a nice warm cup of coffee or settle down after a long day than with some sweet herbal tea. To kick off my blog I wanted to start by introducing one of my personal favorites as of late and a fun brewing method I love <3

Introducing my absolute favorite coffee as of late:

Colombia Nariño - Granos De Esperanza

Colombia Nariño by jfdillin is licensed under CC BY 2.0

This is a single-origin, medium roast coffee offered from Starbucks Reserve that offers a unique flavor I absolutely love. Let's dive into why but you can also find out more on Starbuck's website here as well.

Colombia Nariño is described as having a flavor profile of nutty and cocoa-toned highlights with notes of pistachio, slated caramel, and baking chocolate. Being sourced from the southern mountains in Colombia in elevations of 7,500ft and grown in rich volcanic soil, this coffee offers a smooth yet bold taste that can be paired easily. I personally find it much more nutty and caramel forward, with a light feel and so smooth it doesn't need any creamer to compliment it. If you want to taste more of the chocolatey notes I recommend pairing it with something lightly chocolatey and warm, like a chocolate croissant. My go to with this cup of coffee is some toast and dried cranberries, which bring a bit more sweetness out for me.

Many of Starbuck's reserve coffee's are high quality, but this is by far their best medium roast to come out in my opinion! Which, of course, means it deserves the best brewing method along with. For me, that's stove top coffee from a Moka Pot!

Bialetti moka express by Joeri Van Veen is licensed under BY-NC-ND 2.0

The Moka Pot is a stovetop brewing method that came about in 1933 and has a pretty cool history you can check out here. One of my favorite aspects of this type of method is the lovely smell of coffee it gives off while on the stove, it leaves the whole house smelling like a coffee shop! It also has some other great qualities to it as well though such as being a cheap and eco friendly option, easy to use, low maintenance, and of course the quality of coffee. Moka pots are gentle brewing method that really preserves the rich flavor profile so you can taste all the complex notes. Once you get your Moka pot all you need is some medium-fine coffee grounds and to follow this step by step guide.

Step 1: boil some water first (you want to use already boiling hot water so that your coffee doesn't begin brewing before its at the best temp, it can lead to some bitter taste!)

Step 2: Take your Moka pot apart. There should be three pieces, a bottom chamber, a cone filter that sits in the bottom chamber, and the top chamber with the lid. Fill your bottom chamber with boiling water to just under the safety valve.

Step 3: Add your coffee grounds to the filter piece, make sure not to pack it down! it should fill the entire filter and be smooth across. (think of it like measuring flour in a measuring cup)

Step 4: Place the cone filter with coffee grounds back into the bottom chamber and screw the top chamber back on tightly. Place Moka pot on the stovetop on a medium-high heat with the lid open and wait for it to begin brewing into the top chamber.

Step 5: As soon as the coffee begins to brew into the top chamber, take your heat down to low and watch the magic happen. You'll know its down when it begins to sputter and spit out at the top. When it is just remove from heat and enjoy!

That's all! My favorite coffee and brewing method for you, I can't wait to share more in the future, Thanks!

[gaoau]

Strike Back

Everyday, Properly warnings — none. word count — 975

prev.

It's their third and last year of high-school, still in the same class and still filling the same roles. The 100 of his class and the average of 90's. He remains turning in his assignments in time, while only last week she handed in a math test blank because she doesn't like drawing graphs.

They decide to share another cup of tea in a breezy afternoon. Where they usually divert their paths, Kita follows her left and to her house. Much like the first time, she forces him to wait at the table as she boils the water and soaks porcelain in flavor.

He had been surprised on his first visit, shortly after the spontaneous offer that leaped off his tongue. [Name] never cared to do anything adequately, taking all credit both when they failed or somehow succeeded. The weight of indifference vanished from her body as she carefully prepared two cups, hands gentle and fingers dancing with softness.

Tea had never tasted so powerful; his tongue could pick apart every single spice mixed in a package.

She settles across from him, white porcelain knocking twice on wood. The inevitable topic of the future pops up before his second sip. "What're yer plans after graduation?" he asks someone that doesn't know what they'll eat for dinner in a few hours.

[Name] sets her cup down. Elbow beside it, cheek in her palm. "Physics," she replies with a shrug—she always shrugs—as if it were a matter of fact. "What 'bout you?"

"I'll take over my family's rice farm."

"Sounds like somethin' Kita Shinsuke can pull off. I know I can't." She puffs her cheeks and blows out air.

"S'all 'bout doin' it properly. Everyday, properly."

"As admirable as that is, there're things I don't care enough 'bout ta do 'em properly."

"Things like what?"

"Geography, makin' friends, payin' attention during economy, bein' alive."

He brings his cup up only for it to freeze before it reaches his lips. His eyes find hers. "You don't care 'bout bein' alive?" He forgets the beverage in his hand.

"I ain't really good at it, so I stopped carin' 'bout doin' it properly. Same with the other things. Hats off to ya for bein' so diligent, though."

"Ya still properly brew tea an' properly ace yer math tests."

"Yeah, I ain't sayin' I don't care 'bout anything. I ain't good at livin', but I don't wanna die. So I play with numbers ta pass the time."

"What's livin' life properly for ya?"

"I dunno." Her shoulders lift longer than usual. "Not wastin' my time and actually doin' all the things I wanna do. Maybe, I dunno."

"I think repetition, perseverance, and diligence just feel good. That's a life properly lived."

"Don't think I could do that. I only see things through if they matter. I agree, diligence's good, but I can't go above seventy percent of myself."

"I'll take it ya'll see yer physics career through, then."

"Long as it matters to me."

"Ya should try puttin' in more than seventy."

"Ya keep doin' you, Kita—"

"You'll survive."

They finish the last bits of their teas. Mentalities unchangeable and thoughts standing on parallel; face to face, endlessly, never overlapping. They don't need to agree, they just have to talk.

Spring carried mist over the mountains, Summer followed close behind. Fall creeped by until Winter seeped in. Repetition just feels good. Spring comes back before anyone can blink to start the cycle again.

It's time to graduate and leave behind years worth of useless knowledge and unnecessary all-nighters. They hold diplomas between fingers that hooked around twin teacups. Words they shared still taste fresh on their tongues, like the first bag full of spice she ever soaked in steaming water.

Mr. No Gaps Kita Shinsuke graduated at the top of his class; Ms. Well Whatever [Surname] [Name] shrugged her way out of high-school. He did things properly and she survived.

The crows cry out their song to the sinking sun, sky a flaming red hue. An unsightly envy simmers in [Name]'s chest as she walks next to Kita for the umpteenth and last time in her life. Wasted high-school years replay in her mind and his words relentless beat down upon her.

He makes her want to live a proper life.

They cross the school gates. She finds his eyes reflecting a bright future. A lazy smile crawls onto her lips.

Orange fades into a palette of cool pastel colors. "S'most likely we won't meet again. I'll probably forget 'bout ya."

"Seems like ya still prefer bein' alone."

"S'always better to be alone than in bad company."

"Ya sayin' I'm bad company?"

"D'ya see me tryna leave this conversation?"

There are carefree notes of laughter mixing with the flapping of feathers into the horizon. There's no space for silence as they stop to face each other.

"I wanna forget my high-school years," [Name] lets her criminal thoughts billow to the Spring clouds. She swings her diploma like a fallen tree branch. "Whatever ya set out to do, do it properly. Though you don't need me to tell ya that."

"I'd say the same to ya. Bye, [Surname]."

She throws a bored wave behind an uninterested shoulder. "Goodbye, Kita." Slipping off her tongue, is a farewell building up over three years.

As the night swallows her in blue, Kita is another friend not properly made, lost to the sunset in the distance. She holds her diploma in one hand and tightens her fingers around Kita's words. Truths too bitter to drink down, but too precious to let go of.

—あごす (agosu) • 2020

[gwen-tolios]

I take the jar, rotating it. They don't look different than regular seal teeth, with their strange three points. Maybe they're a little more delicate, a little more unstructurally sound to the eye. But at this point, I'm desperate.

Your love will find you. The right one will come soon. I don't want to be alone.

Everyone else in the village is paired, and you want to be paired too. But you can't seem to find the right person. If ground selkie teeth can show you your true love, you'll take it.

Just to be safe, you dump out two teeth into your hand.

#####

The teeth are easier to grind than you expect. One blow of a hammer and they shatter into little chips. If you add a bit of salt to the mortar, it helps to break the enamel down. It doesn't take long to have a small pile of powdered selkie teeth. You make a tea, sprinkle some in, and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

No stranger knocks on your door. No village member peeks their head through your window. No ghost visits you in your dreams.

You add the powder to your tea and think do I have no true love? Can no one love me? You ask your mother for more teeth to grind and ask yourself while you brew is it so bad to not be paired, relaxing in my home?

One night, as the water boils, you hear a knock. You pray, don't let it be my love, and it can't be. You haven't made the tea. In fact, it's your mother. But you learn that night you don't want a lover. There could be the perfect person outside, poised to knock on your door, and you'd still pray to the sea that the sound doesn't reach you.

You don't want to be paired. You just want the village to stop thinking you should be. You want you to stop thinking you should be.

There's a pile of selkie bone powder next to your mug. You told your mother you'd put it in your tea. But you don't. You never do again.

And when the village asks if your true love had died before you met and if you're pining on the top of cliff, you smile and let them believe what they will.

You are who you are, not who the village expects. If you have a true love at all, it's yourself.

Deep Water Prompt #3126

“Selkie teeth”, my mother says, shaking a jar of them. “Grind one up and stir the powder into tea. Your true love will visit you, or come as a dream if they are already dead.” 

[captainjanegay]

hello kasia!! ok so i know at this point you’re probably sleeping? maybe? you should be at least! 😂 but earlier i promised i’d check in! i just came upstairs from “finishing” my physics homework, so i’m pretty exhausted 😅 it’s very note heavy and as someone who hates reading with every fiber of their being, it’s frustrating. pushing through, though!!

today was pretty tough, i’ll admit. i accidentally forgot to take my anxiety med last night, and it’s usually ok if i catch up in the morning, but i slept through my alarm and 1) missed breakfast, and 2) forgot my meds AGAIN. so i was both hungry, late on my anxiety meds, and i forgot my adhd med 🤦🏼‍♀️ i surprisingly made it through the day though? i had work after and it was so crazy (the people who were there earlier in the day weren’t keeping up on the orders and i ended up having to do a speed run of nearly 100 items in less than hour— i was a little late but i didn’t really care at that point lmao). partway through my shift, i started feeling the effects of my forgotten meds too because i was feeling sick. it wore off though and i’m feeling okay now!

honestly at this point i’m just really tired and i want to watch a show to relax a bit! i also think i somehow chipped the back of my front tooth while eating, so that’s been driving me crazy all day 🙄 today has just been awful so i’m hoping tomorrow goes better!

ok i’ll shut up about me now! i’m so happy you’ve been doing a bit better kasia! you deserve that, so i’m glad you’re feeling better and that your writing has been going well ☺️❤️ i hope i didn’t jinx it! i’m sending you all my love and my biggest hugs honey, i love you so much 🥺💕 i hope you have a great tuesday! (i almost just said monday realizing it is not, in fact, monday tomorrow 🤦🏼‍♀️😂)

I was sleeping! Dhjajs 😂💚 so I've woken up to seeing your name in my notifs, which is the best way to wake ;') 💚

Ugh, I hated physics at school and I was pretty bad at it. Like at most science subjects even though I do find some of them interesting, like I love reading popular science books and articles but learning it at school? Nope, thanks.

I'm sorry you've had a rough day but I'm so proud of you for making it! Even despite forgetting about your meds you've felt with everything and that's so great 💚💚 and getting so much work done even despite feeling bad! You're so incredible!

I really hope you've been able to watch some supernatural and chill and take a breather, you really deserve it! 💚 I send you all the good vibes, all of my love and affection and all the strength to deal with school and work although you have plenty of your own! 💚

Yeah, I've been awfully stressed about uni since I've skipped that other week when I was sick (I'm still only a bit better though dhsjsj) but the classes were ok and I didn't miss as much as I thought :') so obvsly I worried for nothing but that's standard for me dhjsjs and being able to write is great although I'm not a big fan of the things I write but the important part is that the writing log is working and it keeps me motivated and I can edit all the bad shit later :') which would be hard in its own way but hey, that's a problem for future me dhsjsj I've been hearing so many nice things about my writing lately it makes me think I might not suck so much dhsjsj :')

It's ok, I never remember which day it is, time is a lie anyway dhajjs Thank you so much for sending this! I really enjoy hearing about your day, your opinions and thoughts and literally anything that's on your mind! 💚 Sorry the reply took me a while! I love you so so much and I hope the rest of the week will be kind to you cause that's what you deserve! 💚💚💚

[zhongliologist]

Breeding Kink Pt. 2 | Dragon!Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x fem!reader

Genre: SMUTTTT!!

Words: 5.2k

A/N: Oh god i have no braincells anymore. Zhongli fcked with my braincells as well. Here ya go. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Happy Birthday as well.

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

PART 1 HERE

*

It was already deep into the night.

The last of the busy market kiosks has died down, the golden glow of their lanterns flickered off for the day, while the late-night loiterers had gone to rest at their station as silence and the sound of crickets settled in. The harbor has truly gone to sleep after a rough day’s work, and will rise once again at early dawn.

Yet inside the bedchambers of a certain married couple, things were still heating up.

“Z-Zhongli…! Please…!”

You held on to the silken sheets tightly with face flushed and sweating. Every now and then, a moan would escape your lips, savoring the moment where ecstasy was at its peak. It felt good—really good—as your husband Zhongli thrusted sharply into you.

“YN…” he growled beside your ear as he bent down, kissing the bare skin of your shoulders. “YN…I’m close…haa…”

He could feel all the pleasure welling up inside of him. You were holding on to him like a vice grip, as if wringing him out of his seed and coaxing him to come inside you. Zhongli felt his dick twitch at the thought of filling you up, pushing him closer to his climax.

“Aahhh…so g-good….mmnn….! Zhongli…! I’m gonna—”

“My love…I-I…!”

—!

“Mama? Papa…?”

A knock at their door, followed by a small voice stopped the both of them in their tracks.

Oh no, not again…

Looking at each other, you and Zhongli immediately scrambled to compose yourselves.

“Yuqing…ah, please stay where you are—"

“Honey, just a second! Let me…let me just find my slippers—”

Hurriedly, you grabbed your discarded robe on the floor and put on your sandals, while your husband raced to the adjacent bathroom to relieve himself. “Love, I’ll be there in a moment. Please take Yuqing back to her room in the meantime,�� was what he said.

As you opened the door, you were greeted by curious amber eyes—the same as her father’s—who seemingly stared at you as if trying to assess the situation. She was carrying her favorite plushie, a geovishap hatchling, for some reason, while you knelt down and caressed her cheeks gently.

“Yuqing? What’s wrong?” you asked her, “It’s way past your bedtime.”

“Something jumped from the window, Mama…! I…I don’t want to go back!” She replied, almost in a whisper as she held on to the plushie tightly.

Your daughter’s words immediately caught your attention. It could just be a squirrel, or maybe something more dangerous. Nevertheless, you have to go check it out.

“Alright, honey. Let’s see what it is,” you replied as you carried her on your arms. “Mama and Papa can easily hunt monsters down!”

Yuqing blinked at you. “Hm? But where’s Papa?”

“Oh, uh…he just needs to pee,” you replied awkwardly, not totally forgetting what you two were doing a while ago.

By the time you arrived at Yuqing’s bedroom, you were greeted by a calico cat which was carrying her own young into the room, staring at you both with scrutinizing eyes. It seemed to have taken a liking to the room and decided to take shelter there. You instantly knew what was the matter.

“It’s a mama cat!” Yuqing exclaimed happily, jumping from your grasps as you muttered “be careful!” at the ecstatic child.

“Don’t come too close to it, honey,” you told her, sitting on the bed as you watched your daughter crouch near the animal to observe it. “The mama cat doesn’t like it if you touch her kittens. She might scratch you.”

“Oh…” your daughter murmured disappointingly, and then returned to your side when she had enough watching.

Looking down to her, you could really see how much Yuqing resembled Zhongli—the same eyes, the same dignified yet gentle countenance. Her hair was a little lighter but it’ll probably turn as dark as Zhongli’s when she’s older. You smiled at the thought of watching your daughter grow—a few years ago, she was still so small and fragile as you held her for the first time, but now, she’ll be turning six, and then eleven, and then little will you know, she has become such a fine lady.

Pulling her into an embrace, you caught the child off guard as you smothered her with kisses.

“Mama!” She protested, but was giggling at the same time. “Mama…what are you doing!”

“I just love my dearest Yuqing!” you exclaimed, but then stopped to pat her head gently. “Now, are you still scared?”

The dark-haired girl shook her head with a smile. “I’m ok now, Mama! It was just a cat.”

“Alright,” you smiled as you began tucking her in again. “We’ll talk in the morning what we’ll do with the cat, but right now, it’s time for you to sleep. Little girls need to sleep for them to grow big, okay?”

“Understood! Good night then, Mama!” Yuqing replied underneath her blanket, as you gently soothed her head. The whole time, you continued to do it until she had finally fallen asleep, soft snores coming from the small child which made you smile warmly.

By the time you returned to your bedroom, you could see that the bathroom lights were still on. You were waiting for Zhongli to swing by Yuqing’s room earlier but for some reason, he’s been caught up in the bathroom this whole time. It also seemed like your husband had heard you enter the room and began calling for you.

“Dear…! Perhaps you could come here for a moment?”

Curious about what was going on, you then stepped into the bathroom and only to be greeted by a much larger, more draconic Zhongli. You could only stare at the large protruding horns on his head, the scales on his arms and legs, and the tail that was swinging back and forth between his legs. Not to mention the large thing on his crotch that made you do a double take at the mere sight of it.

Zhongli closed his eyes as soon as he noticed your stunned expression. Despite how he looks, he still had a bit of his self-control intact.

“YN, I think we have a problem here,” he told you as calmly as he could.

“I might be going into heat again.”

*

It was finally D-Day.

The both of you spent the last week trying to prepared for this, because unlike the first time, you had responsibilities. For one, Yuqing had to be taken elsewhere and away from the carnage. It will not bode well if your child is there while your husband is being one horny dragon.

The people both of you know where highly dangerous though. Among the rejected list was Childe, Hu Tao, and Venti, with the last one loudly lamenting how he couldn’t have fun with Yuqing in Mondstadt. Keqing and Ningguang would be great but they’re busy with work, while the adepti wouldn’t have enough skills and patience to babysit a child for a week, even if it was the child of the former geo archon. That’s why in the end, you asked Lumine and Aether to take care of your daughter for a while—they were at least, safe enough not to put Yuqing in danger. Hopefully.

On the other hand, you had to prepare yourself for another bang of your life. The first time had caught you off guard, but this time, you were prepared to satiate your half-dragon husband to the fullest. You had also prepared yourself to conceive another child. Well, you really were planning to, but it was the night when Yuqing interrupted you two.

“Dear?” A head peered into the kitchen—or rather, a head with two horns.

Zhongli’s dragon features seemed to be staying longer and longer the nearer his heat approaches. Luckily enough, it wasn’t much of a rare sight in Liyue.

“Oh, morning, Zhongli. Should I brew you some tea?” you asked, busying yourself with breakfast for your family of three.

“It’s alright. I’ll do it,” he replied as he stepped in beside you, preparing the hot water to be boiled.

For a while, the both of you stayed like this in silence. You were concentrating on not getting the congee burned while he was trying to get the proper temperature of the water.

In the end, it was Zhongli who broke the silence.

“Will you be alright later?”

You whipped your head to his direction. “H-huh? What? Me? Oh, I’ll be fine!”

“Are you sure?” he asked, turning to you and caressing your cheeks with the tip of his sharp claws. “If only I could assure you that it will be painless.”

“Zhongli,” you called his name firmly as you flipped an egg. “You have never hurt me, and you never will. I survived the first time, right? We have Yuqing running around after all.”

Your words seemed to have magically melted his worries away, no matter how tacky you thought there were. But you didn’t know that Zhongli simply needed your assurance that it will be okay, otherwise, he’d go into a spiral of worry. Comforted by your presence, he crept his arms around you, hugging you from your side.

“Ah, my wife…my lovely wife…” he muttered happily as he nestled his head on your shoulder, savoring your scent and your warmth. “You’re really my wife…”

You giggled at his sudden show of playfulness. “That I am, sir.”

For Zhongli to be this affectionate, it seemed his heat has really gotten to him. Normally, he’ll reserve these kinds of actions for the both of you late at night, but right now, he’s incredibly clingly and wouldn’t stop following you wherever you go. For the most part, he really loves taking in your scent and running his hands around your body.

Soon enough, you hear the loud and rapid padding of feet on the floor as it dashed towards the kitchen where the two of you were. In a few moments, Zhongli was face to face with his own daughter who grinned gleefully at him.

“Mama, Papa!” Yuqing exclaimed as she clung to you like her father.

“Now young lady, what brings you here early in the morning?” Zhongli asked mischievously, still hugging you and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Lumine and Aether! They’re coming right? They’re coming!” she almost shouted, arm tightly adhered to your leg.

“In about half an hour, darling,” you replied. “Now, are you both aware that I’m trying to cook here? I can’t move!”

Instead of letting go however, Zhongli tightened his hold of you while nuzzling deeper on your shoulder while Yuqing did the same on your leg. You grumbled. “Like father, like daughter.”

Giggling, Yuqing glanced at her father who was tightly clinging to you like she was.

“Papa, do you like Mama?”

Zhongli, for a moment, smiled at her warmly before replying. “Very much so, my dear.”

You could only hide your flustered expression at his words. But of course, it made your heart skip a beat, even after marrying him and having his child, Zhongli could still make you feel this way with just a few words.

It was a good thing that Yuqing changed the subject before your heart could explode.

“Papa! You have horns!” she exclaimed and pointed at Zhongli’s head.

“Oh? Is this your first time seeing it?” he asked as he knelt to the floor. “Do you want to touch it?”

Zhongli could definitely see his daughter’s amber eyes sparkling with curiosity as she slowly inched her way closer to him. Yuqing may look like him, but she definitely has your temperament. The way she sees the world with so much wonder and excitement reminded Zhongli of you.

“Can I, Papa? Can I?” she asked, her small fingers reaching out for them.

“Yes, you may, my dear.”

Bending down, Zhongli felt Yuqing glide her fingers at smooth surface of the horns. “Be careful though, the tips should be sharp enough to wound you.”

Filled with wonder, the child gazed at Zhongli with amazement. “Papa, are you a dragon?!”

“I can become one.”

“Does…! Does that mean I can be a dragon too?!”

Aahh…You smiled at the two of them as you finished the last of your cooking. “Alright now. Let’s have breakfast. The twins will be here soon if we don’t hurry up!”

*

“Aether! Lumine!”

The dark-haired girl immediately ran towards the twins right after you opened the door to greet them, incredibly excited for the week ahead. Aether scooped her into his arms right away as Lumine pinched her cheek for being so adorable.

“We’re extremely grateful to you two for agreeing to take care of Yuqing,” you told them bashfully. “It was hard to think of anyone reliable and willing to do it in such a short notice.”

“It’s okay, YN,” Lumine replied, “We’d love to have Yuqing around anyway! Right, Aether?”

Distracted with playing with Yuqing, Aether turned to Lumine who was looking at him pointedly. “Huh? Oh! Oh yeah! We’re gonna play a lot!”

“Let’s play house again, Aether!” Yuqing interrupted, “I’ll be the mommy, Lumine will be the aunty and you’re the daddy!”

A large, tall shadow loomed over the twins from behind you. “I prefer if you’d arrange the designations in a different way.”

“Oh, Zhongli.” You turned to your husband who was menacing enough to make the male twin tremble like a leaf, especially in his half-dragon form.

“M-Mr. Z-Zhongli!” Aether immediately felt a chill run down his spine. If anything, he felt an overprotective dad is way scarier than all the monsters he battled so far.

“Good morning Mr. Zhongli,” Lumine greeted the man calmly with a smile. “You don’t have to worry about anything! Yuqing can be the mommy, I’ll be the daddy and Aether’s the dog.”

“Good.”

You could only smile awkwardly at the whole exchange. If this continues on, Zhongli might change his mind and insist his daughter to stay.

“Alright, here’s all her clothes for the week as well as other stuff she needs,” you interrupted as you shoved a bag on Lumine’s hands. “Please don’t hesitate to call us if something happens.”

Lumine only glanced at you with a plastered smile. Bothering them isn’t something she’d really want to do.

“We will, YN,” Aether replied and then exchanged looks with his sister. “I think it’s time for us to take off now though.”

“Alright. Come on, Yuqing, let mama and papa kiss you goodbye,” you told them as you reached out for your daughter who easily climbed out of Aether’s arms.

Crouching down, you and Zhongli embraced your daughter tightly, kissing her cheeks several times until she began protesting. With Zhongli chuckling, he patted her head gently while reminding her of several things.

“Now young lady, be of your best behavior. Don’t make Lumine and Aether worry too much.

“I will, Papa! Can I have almond tofu as a reward then?”

Zhongli smiled at her amusingly. “Alright. Do we have a contract then?”

“Yes! It’s a pinky promise!” Yuqing held out her pinky and linked it with Zhongli’s, who was careful not to scratch her with his claws.

“Don’t forget to drink your vitamins and eat your vegetables, ok? And sleep on time. Be careful not to go anywhere without telling Lumine or Aether!”

Yuqing sighed, “Yes, yes, Mama. I will.”

Ruffling her head, you finally kissed her forehead while Zhongli did the same.

“Don’t forget to have fun!”

As she ran off to Lumine’s side, the both of you stood up.

“We’ll be going then. See you after a week!” Aether exclaimed as they began to take the steps down the porch.

“Bye, bye, Mama, Papa!”

With that, the three of them disappeared and went off their way.

Glancing at your husband, it had finally dawned on you that this was only the beginning.

“So, should we get started?”

He asked, and you froze.

*

“W-wait…! Zhongli!”

“What’s the matter?”

Your husband asked you, as if he wasn’t pinning you against the wall, nuzzling against your neck as he took in your scent. You could feel his warm breath against your pulse, his hands on your waist as he continued to pepper small, faint kisses on your skin.

“It’s…it’s the middle of the day…a-and…and…!”

“You never had an issue with that… are you getting shy, my love?”

You could sense the teasing tone in his voice as he nibbled on your ear, without ever the intention of removing himself from you. Flustered, you pursed your lips as you bit down a moan.

“N-No, I’m not! It’s just…!”

“It’s just what?”

Zhongli smirked at your unexpected bashfulness, urging him to tease you more to see more of that adorable expression of yours.

“I-I mean, we just sent off Yuqing…and they might return or something—”

“Oh, they won’t.” Zhongli gave your jaw a small hickey. “Or at least I’m sure they are well aware not to bother us.”

“H-Huh…?”

Without furnishing you an answer, he simply knelt down before you and wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold you down. Looking down, you could see him smirking mischievously at you, making you gulp.

“Why don’t we get you ready, my love?”

Slipping his head underneath your skirt, you instantly felt his lips on your thighs as he kissed his way up towards your core. You could feel yourself melting at the heat of the situation; the sensation of his warm tongue prodding your clothed entrance.

“Z-Zhongli…! Mnhh…!”

Even with your underwear on, you could easily feel him stimulate your sensitive clit as he circled his tongue around before sucking it. Your knees buckled immediately as you found your hands holding on to his horns, careful not to pull too much.

“You’re so drenched here, YN,” he told you, his voice vibrating against your sensitive parts.

“D-Don’t say that! O-Ohh…! Fuck!”

You couldn’t even tell him off properly as soon as he slid of your underwear and began to tease your hole with his tongue. You could feel him go in and out as his warmth filled you up. But it wasn’t enough, of course. After getting a taste of the real thing, nothing could satiate you other than him.

“Zhongli…oh god! Ah—!”

Without stopping, he continued to lap on your juices and stimulate you until you were at the edge of orgasm. You could feel your legs grow weak and the only thing keeping you from falling to the floor was his tight grip on you as he ruthlessly ate you out like a hungry man.

Peeking from underneath your skirt, Zhongli watched as he gradually pushed you closer and closer to your climax. His bright amber eyes filled with lust as he stared at your half-lidded eyes and trembling lips; crying his name out loud over and over again. He wanted to take you then and there, push his cock inside you until you were filled to the brim; his hard on was excruciatingly painful inside his pants, but he had to be patient and get you ready for him.

“Come for me, love,” he muttered, circling his tongue around your clit once more and sucking it.

It only took an instant for you to shiver and tremble in pleasure as you felt your orgasm wash over you like a tidal wave. Your skin felt like a surge of electricity passed over you as your knees buckled and your arms held on to his shoulders to stop you from falling over.

Removing himself from underneath your skirt, Zhongli then scooped your weak figure and carried you on his arms towards the sofa. He had you sitting on his lap facing him while you encircled your arms around his shoulders and waiting for your high to calm down.

For a while, the both of you stayed like this. Zhongli kept on giving you small pecks on your neck and shoulders, slowly divesting you of your clothes as he went around your body. It was slow and sensual; unlike the first time he was in heat.

“H-Hey…you too…” you purred, kissing the underside of his jaw.

He only hummed at you; his hands busy with getting your skirt off of you. “Yes?”

“Let me undress you too.”

Zhongli reigned in his urges as soon as he heard your suggestion. His face flushed as he watched you slowly remove his tie and unbutton his shirt to reveal his toned chest. Groaning at the feeling of your hands on his bare skin, he knew he only had a few moments left before all his self-control could fly off the window. But it was incredible, he could only feel himself grow even harder.

Soon enough, you were already on the floor kneeling before him. Zhongli felt himself tense up at what you were about to do, but had to strength left to stop you from doing it. Silently, he watched as you glide your hands on his things and then to the prolific bulge on his pants. You could feel him poke you earlier while you were sitting on his lap, which gave you the idea of blowing him off.

Gradually, you undid his belt and pants and finally take out his monstrosity of a cock. Zhongli gave a guttural groan as he felt your hands pump his shaft tentatively, his claws biting at the soft leather of the sofa.

It wasn’t the first time you saw his cock, and while it was impressive in normal days, the one right before you was definitely befitting of a dragon. You hesitated.

H-how did this thing fit inside of me before?!

Nevertheless, you continued on. It was massive but it was definitely hot, seeing Zhongli sitting there in front of you with a flushed face and his cock out. Timidly, you gave the tip a small peck as you slowly allowed your tongue to glide over it.

“Y-YN…that’s…!”

Empowered by his reactions, you then licked the underside of his shaft until it was glistening wet with your saliva. Eventually, precum began to ooze out of the tip and curiously, you began licking it as well, sucking it in the process.

“Ughh…! F-fuck…YN…! I’m really—”

Trying to bob your head up and down, you could only fit so much of him inside your mouth as your jaw tried to accommodate his size. But you felt your core tighten up and become wet, thinking that this cock will eventually fill you up to the brim with his cum.

Zhongli was rapidly losing it. He wanted to cum, but he wanted to cum inside of you and have you bear his child. He wanted to see your cunt filled with his seed until it oozes out of you, and then plug his cock back inside of you to fill you up once again.

No, this won’t do.

“YN…! Y-YN…! P-Please stop! Mnnh—!”

He held your chin to make you stop—the way your lips left a trail of saliva to his dick tempted him push it back inside your mouth—but he had to end it there, right before he came inside your mouth. Slowly he guided you towards him; confused as to why he stopped you right before he was about to come, you moved back to his lap where he gently caressed you and wiped his fluids from your cheeks.

“Let me kiss you, my love.”

In a soft and gentle kiss, Zhongli captured your lips. You could feel it radiating with love and warmth as he slid his lips over yours, his tongue darting inside, as if trying to fill his senses of you and only you. You both kissed until your lips were swollen, until you felt him rub his shaft against you unconsciously, making you moan in the kiss.

“Z-Zhongli…” you gasped for air. “Are you…holding yourself back?”

With those amber eyes, he gazed at you seriously—all the while keeping your lips closed to his.

“Is it a sin to treasure you so much?”

His words caught you off guard, but eventually, you smiled. Zhongli never failed to express his love for you. He was gentle and kind, a good husband and an even better father. Brushing a few stray locks of hair from his sweat-riddled face, you kissed his forehead as a way to show how much you appreciated his thoughtfulness.

“Thank you for thinking about me, Zhongli,” you remarked, “But right now, I really want you to let loose and fill me up completely with you.”

With eyes blown wide, Zhongli felt himself twitch at your words—his arousal no longer hidden. Grabbing the back of your head, he then crashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss lidden with passion and lust. He bit and licked on your lips while his hand groped your full breasts, pinching at your nipples to make you gasp against his lips.

“Then so be it,” he smirked. “I’ll make you completely mine.”  

Guiding his shaft to your slick entrance, he pushed himself inside of you in one go—making you squeal at the sudden sensation of being penetrated. It took some time for you to accommodate his large cock, but eventually, your cunt was drenched so much that it hadn’t become much of an issue.

“Z-Zhongli…! Oh god—fuck! …s-so big…!”

You began riding him, moving up and down on his lap while Zhongli continued to make you feel good by playing with your breasts. You could feel his sharp claws make indentations on your skin, but not hard enough to draw blood, but it was a strange sensation which only heightened the pleasure of having his dragon cock thrusted inside of you.

“Hnnghh!! Y-YN…!” Zhongli winced at the sudden tightness, and began to distract himself from cumming by licking on your pert nipples until they were red and sensitive.

With pleasure attacking you from different parts, you could only mewl as Zhongli gradually turned you into a lewd mess as you felt him twitch inside of you. Soon enough, he’ll be cumming inside of you, and that would the first among many others for this entire week. If his first heat said anything, Zhongli wouldn’t stop mating with you until you were fertilized with his seed.

The thought did nothing but coax you to your climax. You could feel yourself tighten around him as he pounded into you mercilessly, your juices mixing together. Zhongli was also close. He was already extremely aroused, and it wouldn’t take long for him to climax.

“A-Ah—! YN….! L-love…I’m…I’m close…!”

He muttered with face flushed and breath ragged.

“Yes…! Oh god, yes…! P-Please, Zhongli…! Ah—! F-fill me…fill me up…!”

In just a few thrusts, the both of you came at the same time. He pushed deep inside of you and came; his warmth filling you up until he was spent. You were still shivering with pleasure when he pulled you in for a kiss, his tongue once again ravishing you with so much intensity that it could be argued that he made you come once again with just a kiss.

Reeling in from the afterglow, you could still feel him hot and hard inside of you, as his breathed hard against your neck. You were no different though—the way your mind was still covered with a haze of lust, or the way his cock inside of you felt so good as it hit a particularly good spot. The aphrodisiac you got from Dr. Baizhu seemed to be quite effective.

Removing yourself from his embrace, you staggered to stand up with your limp legs, but managed to crawl on fours right beside him.

Zhongli was both bewildered and disappointed to have your warm body away from him, but when you pushed your ass before him and gazed at him with sultry eyes, he felt his heart rate pick up the pace.

It was embarrassing to show your cunt dripping with your juices and his cum, but you didn’t really care much. You were too entrenched with arousal to feel embarrassment.

“Z-Zhongli…let’s…let’s do it again…?”

Grabbing your ass, he spread you out even more, and even slapped your butt lightly. Zhongli could definitely see his cum dripping out of you and promptly scooped it up with his finger and pushed it back inside of you.

“P-Please…! Zhongli…I—!”

He smirked. “Very well.”

Without warning, he slid himself back inside of you; making you bite back the remaining words. It felt incredible having him inside. It was hot, as if you were burned and electrified at the same time. Your mouth hardly had the time to close as he continued to piston in and out of you.

This time however, Zhongli began playing with your oversensitive clit, groaning loudly at how you tightened your walls around him. You squealed in delight as his cock hit a particularly good spot, making you cum sooner than expected.

“Oh…o-oh god! Z-Zhongli….! Zhongli…! A-ah…!”

Yet despite your premature climax, he continued on—thrusting inside of you and prolonging your orgasm. It was so good you could feel tears pooling the side of your eyes as he plowed your sensitive cunt.

“You came, didn’t you?” he asked, his lips once again on yours. “I’ll make you come again soon enough.”

True to his promised, Zhongli picked up his pace and fucked you as roughly as he could. You knew there will be bruises after this but the pleasure was greater than anything for you to care about. The way his cock just fills you up, hitting your g-spot over and over again relentlessly, or the way his groans just sends shivers down your spine.

“F-Fuck…! Fuck…!Z-Zhongli! I’m—! I’m gonna…!”

“Yes, love...! Haa….come for me…! I’ll fill you up with my seed…”

Once again, you came from the overstimulation—your arms failing as the pleasure was greater than anything you experienced so far.

“F-fuck…YN…a-ah—!”

With that, Zhongli suddenly bit your shoulder as he pumped more of his seed inside of you, which only overflowed from your hole. You mewled at the mixture of pain and pleasure, unable to distinguish the one from the other, but you knew it felt extremely good.

Zhongli was silent for a while as he lapped on the bitemarks he had made. He was glad that he hadn’t bit too hard, but for some reason, he also liked how you were marked as his.

“Allow me to take you to the bedroom,” he whispered to you as you nodded your head groggily. Sleep was beginning to approach you fast.

Unsheathing himself from you, you winced at the sudden feeling of emptiness. But it was immediately remedied by the feeling of his warm body near you as he carried you to your shared bedroom. Slowly, he laid you down on the soft mattress and eventually joined you there, embracing you from the back.

“Let’s rest for now,” he muttered right before your eyelids fell heavy. “We’ll need it for later.”

And he was right.

For the next few days, the two of you tainted every room inside the house (well, except for Yuqing’s bedroom).

From the kitchen where Zhongli fucked you from behind, bending you on the counter as he emptied himself inside of you—to the bathroom where cleaning up turned into another round where he slowly entered you while underwater—or on the floor, which was only because you couldn’t reach the bed because he was too horny for his own good.

It was only then, as the both of you rested from the last round which took all night and early morning, that you realized how much time had passed.

“Mama! Papa! I’m back!”

Your eyes shot open, and glanced at Zhongli who was staring at you as well.

“Oh no.”

[emperor-palpaminty]

50 from list one with Rex plz 😏

Hey remember this fic?? Yeah! Here is part two for you babes 😘 also Hapans are badasses, feel free to educate y'all selves because i had a blast reading about them!

He was getting attached. Rex really should not be getting hooked on the representative, but he was. Senator Amidala clearly knew- she had been trying to play matchmaker for the past two weeks. It appeared General Skywalker was in on this as well, urging Rex to take “important stuff” to the Senator.

Rex had learned all he could in the files he had access to, and Commander Tano had brought him information from the Jedi archives with almost no questions asked. 

Hapans, Rex learned, were a matriarchal species. Slightly different from humans. They had poor night vision. Little was known before they retreated into the fog that surrounded their little planet, hiding, and waiting. For what, he didn't know.

Poor night vision, Rex thought as he walked towards the Senate building. He didn't know much about Hapes or its people, but he tried his best to deduce all he could about her. The representative seemed very comfortable on this planet, so he assumed she originated from a larger city on Hapes. The stride she carried herself with was broad and elegant with cadence but never rushed so he assumed she was used to this- bustling around, speaking to people. She had been in a position of this power for a while.

It intimidated him, but in the most respectful of ways.

Rex found himself on this particular day standing in front of her apartment door, helmet tucked up under his arm in the middle of the evening, just as things had been winding down for everyone. He raised his hand, knuckles oddly shakey, and he knocked.

The silence spaced out for about ten seconds. She answered the door, blinking, the lights in her room on. “Oh!” She took a moment to register. “Captain. Please come in.” She pushed open the door wider, allowing him to enter. 

Rex nodded in thanks and entered, scanning the room. Several lamps were on, illuminating the room enough for her to move around without issue. "I don't mean to intrude."

"You never intrude, Captain." She smiled and swept an arm to the couch. "Please. Come sit. I was just brewing tea."

Rex felt heat on the back of his neck. "I don't need to- if it's isn't trouble."

"Never." She waved a hand and walked towards the kitchenette, the robe swaying around her feet as she moved. "I love a good companion for tea."

Rex stood in the living space, holding his helmet. He felt rather in the spotlight, stuck. Quickly, he sat his helmet on the table, lowering quietly onto the couch.

"So, captain," She called over the gentle whirring tea maker. "What questions have you for me today?"

“Questions, ma’am?”

Her hum was soothing as the water dripped from the machine, now boiling softly within it. "You always seem to have some form of question for me. I have no objections, but I also enjoy your company."

His cheeks warmed up again. "Thank you, ma'am."

She rounded the couch and sat by him, eventaully- the silence fell around them, shrouding them like the little lights around the apartment, comfortably. The Hapan glanced around and eventually, her gaze settled on him. "I appreciate you very much, Captain."

Rex smiled and relaxed slightly- even though she could not see in the dark, he knew that she could hear his smile as he said, “Thank you, maam.”

[red-archivist]

Not quite part of the liveblog but, lil post-092 hc fic :3

~~ 

As he leaves Elias’ office, Jon’s feet automatically take him down the stairs leading to the archives.

  It is a habit that his long absence hasn’t managed to break but he stops himself from walking straight into his own office.

To do so, he would have to pass the open space where the assistants work, and call him a coward but he just isn’t quite ready to see the state that Elias’ little reveal has left the others in.

  He retreats to the breakroom instead, keeping the lights off and taking a moment to take a few steadying breaths in the cool darkness.

As soon as he stops moving, the injuries he has been ignoring loudly make themselves known.

The constant ache of his burned hand provides a low steady hum of contrast to the staccato pulse of his throbbing throat.

He needs to clean them both up in order to avoid infection, and if he doesn’t want some concerned passer-by to call an ambulance on him when he leaves, he will have to bandage his neck as well.

He walks to the nearest press and begins rooting around for the first aid kit. It doesn’t seem to be where he last saw it months ago and a stumbling search in the dim light reveals nothing to him.

Jon is about to give up and just try to give himself a bit of a rinse in the sink when suddenly the door creaks open, and the lights click on behind him.

He whirls around with his heart in his bloody throat expecting something to pounce on him. Perhaps it is Tim come to take his weary anger out on him? Or Daisy aiming to finish what she started? Or maybe Elias with some other unsolvable puzzle to dump into his lap?

The fright only lasts an instant however, when he sees who is standing in the doorway looking even more surprised to see him.

“Martin,” He sighs with relief.

Martin’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he manages to find his voice.

“Uh, h-hi?”

“…Hi. Did you- Ah. W-Was the first aid kit moved?” Jon points to the mess he has made of the open presses.

Martin jumps in place before rushing forward.

“Oh! Uh, y-yeah, sorry!”

He crouches down to pull the kit out from under the sink and when Jon raises a questioning eyebrow, he shrugs meekly.

“Melanie moved it,” He says, “She said we all had to be able to reach it in an emergency.”

“Right.”

He takes the box from Martin with just one hand, keeping the bandaged one away from his body at an angle so it won’t bump into anything.

  It’s a heavy, clunky thing and hoisting it onto the counter makes his joints sting. Ignoring the pain, he flips the latch and starts rummaging through it. A thin roll of bandages, antiseptic cream, gauze and dressing are placed in a pile on the counter as he mentally goes through the half-remembered steps of cleaning an open wound.

Just as Jon starts to unravel the hand bandage, the side of his face burns with awareness. He looks over to find Martin staring at him.

  His gaze lingers on his hand, taking in the old bandages and his cracked nails, both still caked in grave dirt. Jon does his best not to squirm under the scrutiny.

 When Martin’s eyes dart to the mound of medical supplies Jon is compiling, he also realises he is taking up most of the counter space.

“Am I… in your way?” He asks, about to sweep it all to the side.

Martin starts, as if he just remembered where he was and stammers as he turns away from him

“N-No! Sorry, sorry!”

He fusses with the kettle, taking out mugs as it boils, and does not face Jon again.

Jon is glad for the privacy. He doesn’t want to look at his own hand any longer than he has to, no-one else needs to see it.

As he peels the rest of the dirty wrappings off, they catch on his ruined skin and he can’t quite hold back a pained hiss. The burn is still dreadful to see, blistered like bubbling wax and so red it’s almost black. It weeps a clear discharge, making the whole thing reek a fluid, animal smell.

  He rinses it off in the sink, pats it awkwardly dry, smears the whole thing in antiseptic cream and clumsily wraps it up again. It’s a messy, slow process and he barely remembers to clean his other hand as well.

Martin stays stock still as he works, standing guard over two brewing mugs and, as he glances at him, Jon can practically see the questions he wants to ask in the stiff line of his shoulders.

  Jon feels both grateful and guilty that Martin holds his tongue. He owes him answers but his mouth is so tired of talking.

Tentatively, he starts prodding at the cut on his neck. It is long but shallow, already clotting. He can feel the skin around it is tender with a blossoming bruise. Daisy wanted it to hurt.

Jon pries his mind away from that thought. If he thinks about how close he came to dying today, he won’t be able to keep himself standing, nevermind clean up.

He just needs to get through the next few steps, and then he can go back to Georgie’s, lay down somewhere quiet and try not to have a complete breakdown. Laying out gauze and dressing, he wets a clean tea towel. He is halfway to raising it to his neck before he realises his mistake.

“Damn.”

“…Jon?”

Martin is peering over his shoulder at him, concern drawn in deep lines around his face.

Jon blinks back at him. He had almost forgotten he was there.

“I… uh,” He waves the tea towel, “I need two hands, should have done this first.”

He is going to ruin the clean wrappings on his hand. He will either have to do them again or wait to get back to the house and hope Georgie won’t be too pissed off to help him. Clucking his tongue, he weighs up his options.

“Um… Do you…” Martin’s soft voice cuts across his thoughts, “I mean, I can… i-if you want?”

“What?” Jon turns and sees him holding out a hand for the tea towel, “Oh.”

“O-O-Only if you, y’know, you’re comfortable with…”

  Jon stares at him for a moment and regrets flickers across Martin’s face. He starts to draw his hand back.

“Uh, yes, no, I mean, I-I appreciate…” Jon stammers, “You don’t have to. I-I don’t want to interrupt… what you’re doing…”

The sheepishness fades from Martin as he chuckles slightly.

“I just came in to get a bit of a break from everyone else, really,” He immediately winces, “God, that sounded bad, didn’t it?”

“No… no, I understand.”

  Martin smiles slightly and Jon’s feels his lips twitch upward in response.

“So, uh,” Martin holds his hand out again and Jon passes him the towel, “Might be easier to sit.”

“Right.”

Jon brings the gauze and dressing to the rickety coffee table while Martin wrings out the towel in the sink. They sit facing each other, and Martin scoots close enough that their knees brush.

“Can you lift your chin?” He asks, “And please tell me if I hurt you?”

Jon raises his head and stares into the yellowing florescent light embedded in the ceiling as Martin starts delicately dabbing at the cut.

It stings, of course. He can feel the edges of the wound prickle with pain as the meagre scabbing that covered them is wiped away. He hopes he isn’t letting it show on his face.

It is a little uncomfortable, letting someone else touch his neck. Especially someone he hasn’t seen for over two months. He peers at Martin out of the corner of his eye.

  He looks exhausted. There are heavy bags under his eyes and the light from above washes him out terribly, making him seem even paler than usual. His hair has grown a bit, more from neglect than choice. His fringe droops over the frame of his glasses.

Guilt bites at the back of Jon’s mind. Without him here, he is almost certain Martin has been doing the lion’s share of the work in the archives. Melanie is only new to the position and Tim… Jon is doubtful Tim has been working at all.

  Martin mumbles a pre-emptive apology as he moves the towel slowly over the cut. His touch is soft but steady, gentle in a way that is completely alien to Jon.

Martin’s gaze is focused on Jon’s neck, intent on washing away every speck of pain scrawled onto it. Instead of the sting of the wound, Jon feels something in his chest ache.

He can’t remember the last time anyone was this careful with him. That thought, more than the pinch of physical pain, makes his eyes water.

He blinks rapidly and rattles his brain for anything that will keep his mind off of how tender Martin’s touch is.

His mouth runs ahead of his head and he tries not to swallow too hard as he speaks.

“Martin… ah…”

“Sorry, am I pressing too hard?” The pressure on his throat eases slightly and Jon wills himself not to chase after it.

“No, no, I just, ah, I wanted to-” Jon bites his tongue in his haste to speak, “H-H-Have you been getting on alright?”

The pressure disappears entirely as Martin reels back to gawk at him, his mouth hanging open in shock. Jon might be offended at his surprise if he wasn’t too busy kicking himself.

He keeps babbling before Martin even has a chance to respond.

“God, that’s stupid- stupid question, of course you’re not-!” He sighs, “Just- Ignore me. Apologies.”

He looks back up to the breakroom lights, his face burning hot.

Martin chuckles.

Jon dares to glance at him.

The surprise has faded into something softer, a not-quite-there smile lingering on his lips.

“Yeah…” He agrees quietly, “That… is pretty stupid.”

“Well-! Pardon me for asking,” Jon snaps.

Martin’s smile grows.

“I’ve… I’ve got a pretty stupid answer for it though?”

“Uh,” Jon leans forward in his seat, “Yes?”

“Despite um, well, all of it…” Martin swings a hand around the room, “It’s… It’s really good to see you, Jon.”

He stares.

  It’s Martin’s turn to try and hide from the scrutiny. Jon watches with fascination as he starts to turn a blotchy red.

He doesn’t understand. The last time they spoke, Jon gave him nothing but a weak apology after suspecting him of murder and invading his privacy for months. Martin should be angry at him, or maybe even afraid. Jon doesn’t want him to be, but he would understand if he were.

Instead, Martin sits in front of him with a shy smile and soft hands, helping him, missing him. Jon can’t possibly understand that.

He opens his mouth without any clue as to what to say.

“That… doesn’t actually answer my question?” He says weakly.

Martin laughs. Not a chuckle or a giggle but a full-throated belly laugh. It is a sound Jon has never heard from him before. His face feels even warmer.

As soon as he calms down, Martin shakes his head before delicately placing his fingertips on Jon’s chin and tilting his head upward.

“I guess not.”

He finishes cleaning and dressing the wound in silence. When he presses the dressing against the cut to make sure its smooth, Jon can’t help but shudder.

A frown crosses Martin’s brow.

“Don’t suppose I can convince you to see a doctor about this?”

“You suppose correct,” Jon sighs.

Martin clucks his tongue but doesn’t push him any further.

Jon is overcome with the sudden desire to sit in this chair for the remainder of the afternoon, resting in Martin’s half-joking disapproval with their kneecaps just about touching.

He is also keenly aware that that desire isn’t something he can afford to indulge in.

With a weary groan, he hauls himself upright.

  “I… appreciate the help.”

Grabbing the now-stained tea towel, he turns away to toss it in the sink.

“O-Oh, uh, sure, anytime,” Martin says automatically, “Well, n-no, not anytime- I didn’t mean- I don’t want you to get hurt again or a-anything!”

“It’s fine, Martin, I know what you meant.”

He puts the first aid kit back under the sink and pats his pockets to make sure he has all the things he came in with. It’s not much.

“Right, I won’t be back today, but I’ll be in the office tomorrow.”

“You’d better not be!” Martin exclaims, suddenly loud.

Jon blinks at him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re hurt! You need rest!” Martin squeaks indignantly, “Proper rest, Jon not just a half-day off!”

“I- Wh- You can’t stop me coming to work!”

“I bloody well can!”

Jon boggles as a memory suddenly strikes him full-force. He had tried coming back to the archives early after Prentiss’ attack as well, hadn’t he? Martin had practically carried out of the building. At the time, it was just another reason for Jon to be suspicious of him. Now, he can see it for what it was.

  Martin cared.

  He still cares, whether that care takes the form of washing his wounds or scolding him for his poor work-life balance. It’s not a feeling Jon is familiar with.

Martin still sits at the coffee table, arms crossed over his chest, colour high in his cheeks. With a wistful smile, Jon decides to let him have his way. It’s paltry thanks for his ministrations, but it is all Jon has.

“Alright.”

Martin’s glare vanishes under his shock.

“Alright?”

Jon nods.

  “Alright. I’ll rest.”

“Oh! Oh. …Good!”

“It’s what, Friday now?” Jon says, “Maybe I’ll even take the weekend off.”

“Wow, let’s not go overboard,” Martin grumbles.

Jon snorts, hiding his laughter behind his bandaged hand. Martin smiles brightly and somehow, gets even redder.

“I’ll see you Monday.”

“Y-Yeah.”

Jon heads for the door. His feet are like lead weights and he already knows he is going to have to stop himself from napping on the tube. He can sleep properly once he is back at Georgie’s. It might even be nice to rest, for once.

He pauses in the doorway, glancing back.

Martin has stood up, his arms still crossed even as he flicks a hand up.

“See you.”

As he stares at him, Jon’s chest aches again. He is overcome with the urge to speak, as if that will ease it.

“For what it is worth… It is really good to see you too.”

Martin’s face goes slack with a look as soft and tender as his hand was on Jon’s throat. It makes the ache worse.

Jon turns away without another word, knocks once on the doorframe and walks away.

  As he heads for the stairs, his hand still throbs, and his neck still stings but it is the hurt in his heart that distracts him. The sound of Martin’s laughter echoes in his head and Jon thinks that this particular pain is one he doesn’t mind keeping.

[shisekibo]

[Event Story] Chapter Six - Strawberry Tea

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- A While Later -

Nac:

 “Mr Lucas~! Where are you?”

Lamli:

 “Sir Lucas~!”

Nac:

 “Hmm... I cannot see him anywhere.”

Nac:

 “There are many dangerous beasts in these woods.”

Nac:

 “It is best not to walk around alone.”

Muu:

 “Eh? Is he going to be okay?”

Nac:

 “I say that but... I am not exactly worried about Mr. Lucas.”

Lamli:

 “Sir Lucas is extremely strong, after all~.”

step step step

Lucas:

 “Haha ♪”

Lamli:

 “Ah! There he is! Sir Lucas!”

Nac:

 “I apologise. My competition with Lamli became too heated.”

Lucas:

 “You finally made it back ♪”

Lucas:

 “Oh my? The Master is with you too.”

Choices:

“Yeah.”

Lamli:

 “Sir Lucas? You were drinking tea?”

Lucas:

 “Hmm... I tried to follow you but I couldn’t catch up...”

Lucas:

 “And I got tired of running around looking for you.”

Lucas:

 “So I relaxed here with a nice cup of tea.”

Lucas:

 “I knew if I waited, you’d find me eventually.”

Muu:

 “I-I see... You trust each other very much.”

Lucas:

 “Oh, and look... I found some strawberries ♪”

Lamli:

 “Ah! You’re right! Perfect, Sir Lucas!”

Nac:

 “Oh? Mr. Lucas. That tea you’re drinking...”

Nac:

 “It smells interesting.”

Lucas:

 “Ah, this?”

Lucas:

 “Look ♪ I sliced up some of the strawberries I found here.”

Lucas:

 “They were such sweet, fragrant strawberries, after all.”

Lucas:

 “Now the tea tastes like strawberry. It’s delicious.”

Choices:

“How fancy.”

Lucas:

 “Oops ♪ I allowed you to stand and talk for too long, Master.”

Lucas:

 “Here, Master. Please sit down.”

Lucas:

 “I didn’t bring any chairs but I put down a clean handkerchief for you...”

Choices:

“Th-thank you.”

Lucas:

  “Now then. Nac, can you start a fire for me?”

Nac:

 “Of course.”

Muu:

 “Oh? What’s happening?”

Lucas:

 “Haha ♪”

Lucas:

 “I wanted to make this tea for you too.”

Choices:

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to...”

Lucas:

 “Oh! Don’t worry. This has nothing to do with the competition ♪”

Lucas:

 “In other words... I’m not bribing you.”

Lamli:

 “Sir Lucas. It sounds even more suspicious when you put it like that...”

Lucas:

 “Oh? Really?”

Nac:

 “Now, Mr. Lucas... I boiled the water while you were talking.”

Lucas:

 “Thank you, Nac ♪”

Lamli:

 “We need to warm up the pot and the cups beforehand, right?”

Lucas:

 “Exactly ♪ Thank you, Lamli.”

Lamli:

 “Hehe. I want the Master to have a nice cup of tea!”

- Some Time Later -

Lamli:

 “Right! The pot and cup are warm now.”

Lucas:

 “Thank you, Lamli.”

Lucas:

 “Now, let’s put the tea leaves in the pot.”

Lucas:

 “Darjeeling should be good ♪”

Lucas:

 “We put two spoonfuls into the pot...”

Lucas:

 “Then we pour in the boiling hot water ♪”

Lucas:

 “And then we put the lid on.”

Lucas:

 “We need to wait for 3 minutes, Master.”

Nac:

 “As expected of Mr. Lucas. Not a movement wasted.”

Lucas:

 “Berrien has taught me how to brew tea so many times.”

Lucas:

 “I finally remembered it ♪”

Lucas:

 “And while we’re waiting...”

Lucas:

 “Haha...”

Lucas:

 “Let’s finely cut up these strawberries we picked.”

Lucas:

 “I’ve already washed them, don’t worry.”

Lucas:

 “Haha ♪ Is the tea ready yet?”

Lucas:

 “Now we stir the pot lightly...”

Lucas:

 “And pour it into the pot.”

Lucas:

 “Right until the very last drop...”

Lucas:

 “Then we put in the strawberries we sliced earlier...”

Lucas:

 “Yes... It’s done ♪”

Nac:

 “Hmm~... The fragrance of the tea and the strawberries entwine in the air...”

Nac:

 “What a romantic aroma!”

Lucas:

 “Now, Master... Please drink it before it gets cold.”

I slowly put the cup to my lips, slowly so that I didn’t burn myself.

The bitter yet fresh aroma filled my nose.

And, after that, came the sweetness of the strawberries.

It was an interesting flavour that tea didn’t usually have.

Choices:

“It’s delicious.”

“Thank you for making this for me.”

Lucas:

 “Haha. I wanted to make you happy, Master ♪”

Lucas:

“We’ll make something even more delicious for the competition, so please look forward to it ♪”

[webofpassione]

Sick Days

Giorno x Reader

Content Warnings: References to Polygamy

***

The smell of coffee woke you that day; its bitter and tempting scent drawing you from the covers despite the ridiculously early hour.

So used to being one of the last awake, you were confused to glance over your shoulder while getting dressed and notice a mess of blond hair still in the bed. You finished with the last parts of your outfit’s embellishments and waltzed over, lowering yourself so you could sit alongside Giorno’s sleeping form.

His hair was always chaotic in the morning; you ran your fingers through it and brushed your fingers lightly across his cheek.

He was burning up, the flush on his cheeks more apparent than ever without his hair. Worry creased your forehead at his unnaturally shallow breathing.

You headed into the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth, wrung it under the cold water and then came back to place it on his head. He stirred a little but didn’t wake. He certainly wasn’t the lightest sleeper in the group but on a normal occasion, he would have woken.

While you headed to the kitchen, you called Bucciarati, apologising for the interruption but telling him about Giorno. He sounded busy but he asked if you could look after the situation and let Mista know not to wait around.

Mista was the one brewing the coffee in the kitchen but he was clearly a little distracted as his own mug had been half downed by the Pistols. He lifted it to try and drink but nearly ended up swallowing Number Five who immediately started crying about not being noticed.

You giggled and fixed his hap-hazard hat. “How’s your morning been?”

“Awful,” he groaned. “There were four birds outside the window when I opened it. Talk about a bad omen.”

The Pistols were reflecting his outlook with their moods being far worse than normal. You winced as Number Two pulled a little harshly at your hair to get your attention.

“Hey, if you do that, you’re getting off my shoulder,” you reprimanded. Turning your focus back to Mista, you lightly pecked him on the nose before saying, “Not to make your day worse but Giorno looks like he’s caught something. You’re going to have to do your job today without him.”

Mista groaned. “Really? Man, that sucks.” He finished off his coffee to the dismay of the Pistols and grabbed his pistol off the table. “I’m going to get this over with already. I doubt I’ll track down that idiot today but I guess I should try. Look after Giorno.”

You bid him goodbye and, in the effort of not creating more dishes, reused his mug for your own coffee. Thankfully the Pistols didn’t leave markings or anything like that.

Once the kettle boiled – by which time you had finished your coffee and prepared a small breakfast – you brewed Giorno’s tea and returned to the room.

Giorno was sitting at his white wood vanity and trying desperately to fix his sloppy braid. His skin was paler than a ghost but the flush on his cheeks hadn’t gone away. Dark bags hung under scarily dull green eyes. Even his greeting smile upon seeing you was bleak.

You placed the tea down next to him and took over with his hair, undoing his shaky work and going through motions you knew well at this point.

Brush it out and use the curler to make his little rosettes, held in place by hairspray and pins. Then move the longer hairs back and plait them tightly with a finishing twirl.

“I spoke to Guido and Bruno about how you’re feeling,” you told him as he sipped at his tea.

“I can help if they need it,” Giorno mumbled. Unlike a few others you could think of, he wasn’t going to push himself though. If they were going to end up in situations where he could help, he was going to need to have the energy for it. Nobody would be helped if he overworked himself.

A cough racked his body, every movement making him wince.

You pressed a sympathetic kiss to the top of his head. “Maybe you should move back to the bed, love.”

“Maybe,” he sighed. He shakily stood, using the desk to steady himself while his head spun. “Could you get some stuff off my desk for me?”

“Only if it’s not work.”

He pursed his lips in a small smile. You crossed your arms and he was contemplating going to get it himself when another cough hit. “Alright,” he relented. “Lying down will help it pass quicker.”

You sat beside him on the bed, fully planning on making sure he was comfortable when Giorno pulled you down with a surprising amount of strength. It must have hurt judging by his expression but he held you to his side.

“I was going to tell you to try and sleep,” you said.

“I can’t sleep properly without you here.”

“Giorno Giovanna, you are so lucky Bruno isn’t here to catch you lying to me,” you teased but you didn’t move. You had had a bout of illness a week ago and you were assuming it was the same bug. And you had been planning on rearranging your day to better fit in an ill partner anyway.

The morning passed you by as a nap, interrupted only when you got up to get Giorno a new cold pack every hour. He was hot and feverish against you – far from comfortable to lie against – but you knew it made him feel better to hold somebody so there was no complaint.

You were woken up at midday by something hitting your head.

Abbacchio stood in the doorway, trying his hardest to keep his face neutral. It didn’t work and the fondness seeped through in the quirk of his lips.

“Bruno told me to drop off medicine,” he mentioned.

You picked up the bag that had landed on you. Giorno hadn’t woken; his breathing was still too shallow for your liking and his cheeks were clammy.

“I’m going to be meeting up with Mista later to assist,” Abbacchio said. “Do you need anything before I go?”

A quick glance at Giorno had you unwilling to wake him so you asking, “Are you in a rush? It’ll take me a few minutes to heat up some soup for lunch but you know he’ll be upset if he wakes up without anybody here.”

Abbacchio shrugged and sat down on the other side of the bed. “I can wait with the brat if you really need. Just go.”

You disentangled yourself from Giorno and headed for the kitchen, grabbing another bottle of water while the soup warmed on the stove. It wasn’t fresh; the only soup that survived in the house longer than a day was canned. But it didn’t take too long and you sorted out three bowls. It took a bit of manoeuvring but you got everything into the bedroom.

Abbacchio woke Giorno up with soft taps against his cheek; his own concern showing when the blond immediately launched into a coughing fit.

“Medicine, now.”

Giorno didn’t protest and the three of you sat on the bed for lunch. He managed to finish about a third of his bowl before it was too much and he gave you a sympathetic look. “I’ll have more later.”

“Just eat what you can,” you urged.

Abbacchio seemed loath to leave but he did, telling you to call him if you needed anything.

You sorted out the bowls and encouraged Giorno to drink more water while you dropped everything off in the kitchen. The afternoon was getting a little hot so you closed the windows and turned on the air conditioner at his request though you made sure it wasn’t on a very low setting that Fugo favoured.

“Are you feeling a little better?” you asked. “Do you want to maybe take a bath or just sleep some more.”

“I’ve been sleeping the whole day,” Giorno pointed out.

You shrugged. “You’re sick. It’s the least you should be doing.”

He coughed again but it was at least a little less painful than before. “I haven’t been sick since I was a child,” he complained, rubbing his chest. “I thought I would be done with this.”

You smiled and moved some of his hair out of his face. He was getting a bit more colour back into his face which made you happy. “You don’t get to just not be sick,” you said. “It’s already unfair that you still look cute right now.”

“I don’t feel cute. I feel sticky.”

“Then you must know how beautiful you are to still look like you do,” you teased. “I kind of wish I could see your baby photos.”

Giorno tilted his head as though he was thinking about it. “I don’t have any. I do remember this one time when I got ill and I kept falling asleep and waking up hoping that somebody would be home to help. My mother was gone for several days unfortunately so by the time she got back, I was already better. No real time for photos.”

You pursed your lips, annoyance prickling at your heart. A reminder of your mental list titled, People I Need To Punch.

“I didn’t really mean photos from when you were ill,” you said, keeping your annoyance tempered. “But don’t worry, I’m going to be right here until you’re feeling better.” You gave him a small kiss on the cheek and gestured to the bathroom.

“Do you want to take a bath though?”

“I think so,” he hummed. “Then I want to sleep again.”

You ended up taking an afternoon nap with him afterwards, waking up to a slight movement on the bed as Narancia crawled in later. When Abbacchio and Mista knocked on the door to wake you up, you quickly found that Bucciarati and Fugo had both joined the three of you at some point.

Giorno woke up groggily to six separate questions about how he was feeling. The smile on his face was soft when he answered that he was feeling much, much better.

[retrogradedreaming]

UHHHH maybe,, you could write a little thing for reki making the sk8 fam tea? and kaoru thinking hes gonna have to pretend he likes it but then "oh wait reki can actually make tea what-"

just bc this has been living in my head for awhile sdkljfs

(capt-snoozles)

It turns out I am completely incapable of writing ANYTHING short, so have a full one shot type thing, I guess. I hope it's okay that I kinda borrowed headcanons from you and @that-was-anticlimactic for Reki with TS at a couple of small moments in the fic?

----

It used to be Kaoru alone who visited Kojiro’s restaurant when it was closed on Mondays. But since the start of winter break, Sia la Luce had become much livelier now that Reki, Langa, and Miya weren’t in school all day, and Shadow came when his days off lined up right. If Kaoru were being honest, it took some time to get used to the space no longer being only his and Kojiro’s, but he’d grown to like how their group came together like this.

The afternoons were the quietest part of these days. Kojiro took these opportunities to try out new recipes on them, leaving everyone contentedly full and pleasantly sleepy. Today, Langa had actually fallen asleep in the booth, and Reki sat beside Kaoru at the counter, playing with a tiny skateboard and making soft sounds like a small motor. Shadow and Miya sat at a table across the room, arguing over whether clown or cat makeup looked cooler while Kojiro finished cleaning. Kaoru let himself sink into the lull, Reki’s noises and that of the skateboard wheels on the counter an almost comforting presence beside him. And yet, one thing was missing, keeping him from truly relaxing.

“Seems like a good afternoon for tea,” Kojiro said, as if reading his mind as he appeared out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “You want me to make some?”

“Absolutely not,” Kaoru scoffed. “People who microwave their tea should be arrested.”

“There’s no way you can tell the difference,” Kojiro said, defensive. “Hot water is hot water.”

“Only an uncultured pig would believe that,” Kaoru snapped. He was about to stand, to tell Kojiro he’d make the tea himself like he always inevitably had to, when Reki all but leaped from his seat, skateboard abandoned for the moment.

“I’ll make it!” he offered, and the way his face lit up meant that Kaoru took too long to say not to bother. By the time he’d found his words, Reki had already bounded around the counter and into the kitchen, and Kojiro didn’t even try to stop him. Before Kaoru could tell Kojiro to stop him, Reki called out to Kojiro, asking about the industrial stove, and soon, Kojiro was not only allowing Reki to make the tea, but encouraging him.

Kaoru supposed this was a step up from Kojiro’s microwave technique, but if Kaoru were likely to trust anyone other than himself to make a decent cup of tea, it wouldn’t be Reki. The idea that he’d wanted his tea made well and was unlikely to receive it as such set him on edge. As he listened to the water boil and the conversation continued around him, he found himself wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger and tugging, letting it go, and repeating the process until his scalp hurt. He didn’t even notice that Langa had woken up until he appeared beside Kaoru and spoke.

“What’s Reki doing?” he asked.

“Making tea,” Kaoru said, doing his best not to appear so anxious about something so small.

Langa peered over the edge of the counter to where Kojiro and Reki were talking in the kitchen, and then turned back to Kaoru. “I like how he makes it. I never liked it before I met him.”

Kaoru hummed a halfhearted response. He doubted that Langa’s standards were very high, given that he’d grown up in Canada. He’d likely had tea often enough, given that his mother was Japanese, but Kaoru knew from experience that plenty of people even here in Okinawa had no idea how to brew a proper cup. It was about timing, knowing how hot to make the water, how long to steep the leaves, and so many people rushed the process—or worse, forgot about it and steeped too long—that Kaoru preferred to make his own.

He couldn’t help but envision Reki handing him a bitter cup, or one that tasted like little more than hot leaf juice. He grimaced at the idea of having to drink it and pretend he liked it, suffering all the while. He would have to wait until he was home later to make something better for himself.

He was still trying to think of a polite way to decline the tea he’d obviously wanted when Reki came out bearing a tray of steaming cups and began making the rounds through the restaurant. Reki handed the first one to Langa, who accepted it, smiling softly up at Reki. Langa sipped the tea immediately, only to flinch and draw it away after the first sip.

Not promising, Kaoru thought. If he’d boiled the water, it was ruined, even if it was something as simple as green tea. And yet, Langa only took another sip while Reki looked on approvingly.

“It’s good,” Langa finally proclaimed, and Reki glowed as if he’d received praise from the emperor himself. Reki moved on, handing Kaoru his cup.

“Thank you,” Kaoru said, accepting it with both hands. Fortunately, Reki moved on to Shadow and Miya without waiting for Kaoru to try it, which meant that he didn’t know Kaoru only held onto it without making a move to taste it. If nothing else, he could enjoy the warmth that crawled from his fingertips all the way to his elbows.

Neither Miya nor Shadow hesitated in drinking theirs, though Kaoru couldn’t imagine they cared much how it tasted, as long as it was hot. And yet, as he watched, the two of them looked just as pleased as Langa when they tried it.

“Oh wow, the slime makes good tea,” Miya pronounced, hugging the cup close to him like a space heater.

“Damn, this is pretty good,” Shadow said, drinking deeply and draining half the cup. “How’d you even learn to make it like this?”

Reki shrugged, taking up his own cup, the last on the tray. He set the tray down on the counter and took the empty seat beside Langa. “I dunno, I guess I just picked it up over the years. It’s kinda like making skateboards, y’know? You have to figure out how all the parts fit together, and if you do it wrong, the tea doesn’t taste right.”

Kaoru looked up at him from the murky depths of his tea, brows raised. When it came to making tea, the analogy was rather profound, and Kaoru couldn’t argue it. Reki was right—tea was about the sum of its parts, the pieces fitting together perfectly. And as with building skateboards, the person making it had to know exactly how to combine each piece to create the whole.

“That doesn’t make any sense, but whatever,” Shadow said, taking another sip. “All I care about is that it doesn’t suck.”

“How come you’ve never made us tea before?” Miya asked, eyes trained on the Switch he’d pulled from his pocket now that he’d abandoned his conversation with Shadow.

“I don’t really have the patience for it,” Reki said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s kinda like, if I don’t wanna put in the time to do it right, why bother?”

While everyone was wrapped up in conversation, Kaoru finally chanced a discreet sip. If it was as bad as he’d expected, he could school his expression appropriately while they were all distracted. Perhaps he could even get away without having to lie about how good it was. And yet, when the tea touched his tongue, he paused.

It wasn’t too hot.

It wasn’t too weak or too strong.

It wasn’t too bitter and the leaves didn’t taste as though they’d been burnt.

It was, as far as Kaoru was concerned, some of the best tea he’d had outside his own home. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words to say so. He sipped it again, just to make sure he hadn’t deluded himself based on everyone else’s praise. Sure enough, it was almost more delicious the second time.

“You surprised?” Kojiro murmured at his ear, his own cup dangling from his fingertips. Kaoru jumped, nearly spilling his tea. When he turned to face him, Kojiro’s lips quirked in a smug grin, and he raised one brow meaningfully. Kaoru shot him a hard glower in return, a silent command to keep his mouth shut before Kaoru turned back to Reki.

“It’s delicious,” Kaoru said, and it wasn’t forced in the least. “I’m impressed.”

Reki, who had already immersed himself in talking to Langa, gaped at Kaoru, one of his hoodie strings falling from between his teeth. Then, he flashed a wide grin. “Glad you like it!”

“Have you ever practiced tea ceremony?” Kaoru asked, reluctantly setting his tea down on the counter.

“Nah, my parents let me try it once when I was younger, but I kept messing up the steps,” Reki said. “It’s not really fun when people get mad at you for doing it wrong.”

“I studied it for some time,” Kaoru said, remembering how the order felt comforting, how the amount of concentration it required gave his anxious mind something to focus on, how the simple yet refined aesthetic felt like clearing his head. In recent years, he didn’t have time for it with his calligraphy business, but a part of him missed it. “It’s quite a bit different from drinking tea like this, but if you wanted to, perhaps we could do a...modified version of it. Something less formal with everyone here.”

Reki’s eyes brightened, and he looked to Langa, who only seemed to share his enthusiasm. “It sounds fun, yeah! A lot better than getting yelled at by a bunch of old people because ‘tradition.’”

“I’d say so,” Kaoru said, and they devolved into talking about their favorite teas and the best ways to brew them. Kaoru couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to someone who actually understood that tea was an art even more than it was a drink. But Reki did, and when the rest of the group finally left, leaving Kaoru and Kojiro alone in the restaurant to clean up, Kojiro nudged him with an elbow.

“You didn’t think Reki could make tea like that, did you?” he said, the words teasing but too close to Kaoru’s own thoughts for comfort.

“Shut up or I’ll leave you here to wash dishes alone,” Kaoru quipped, even as he accepted the next cup to dry. “I will admit, I was pleasantly surprised.”

“I knew you would be,” Kojiro said as he dried his hands and stretched.

“Anything is better than microwaved tea,” Kaoru said. And although it was true, he couldn’t help but look forward to the next Monday, and the last before the kids started school again.

[wtf-yoongi]

Softie. / MYG

pairing | yoongi x reader

summary | just a morning with min yoongi 🥺

prompts | “i love you more than coffee.” *distant gasps* + “every morning you kiss my forehead before i leave for work, why was it my lips today?” from this prompt list.

genre/warnings | disgustingly fluffy + very domestic

words | 1,990

note | i wanted to write something like this and then it fitted the prompt someone requested two ages ago and it became way too long for a timestamp and here we are

Very rarely does something beat the smell of black tea in the morning. Not any black tea, but this one in particular.

Forget it, nothing beats it.

The earthy tones coming from the leaves are enough to get you excited about your day and you’re careful not to scoop too much from the fancy, squared, tin box. It is, after all, precious and expensive — it seems like it gets pricier and pricier every time you restock it, almost to the point you’re begging the clerk for a discount.

You know it’s too much and you should stop spending money with that, the same money that could buy you enough tea for a whole year, but this is exactly the way luxury items go. Just above average, pretty packaging, minimalistic logo and a warm feeling in your heart from doing something special for yourself.

Like a ritual, you twirl the spoon and breathe in the steam coming from the pot before closing the lid. The instructions say you should brew it for three minutes and you’re proud to say you haven’t got that wrong once — not even on the day of your sister’s wedding, when she called saying she burned her ring finger, accidentally saw her fiancée and there was a real possibility of them not moving forward with the ceremony that day.

Even though she married with the ring on her middle finger, since the other one was bandaged, everything worked out. A little bit like a sitcom from the 90’s, but it did — in the end, it always did. That’s why you spend way too much money on that tea, because something about it makes things just work somehow. It’s unexplainable, quite magical and, to be honest, a little childish, but you love it.

Naturally, your hands start moving while the three minutes pass, refilling the kettle with water when you hear the shower stop running like you do every single day. In between the tea being served on a mug and his lazy morning footsteps, there’s only enough time for you to eat your peach yogurt.

“Hmm,” he hums and you can hear him getting closer as he speaks. “Treating yourself today, huh?”

You guess Yoongi can smell the black tea as well.

As you’re focused on adding the perfect amount of honey to your mug, there’s no time to turn or even look up at him coming into the kitchen with a sleepy and sweet look on his face. In such a small room, it only takes a heartbeat for him to stand next to you, leaving a quick kiss on your temple and short squeeze on the curve of your hips.

“Any special occasion I should know of?”

“Not really.” You shrug and, for a moment, Yoongi’s aftershave replaces the smell of tea completely. It’s fresh, clean and light, like most things he enjoys without noticing. “I just wanted something different.”

“I’m jealous, I want something fancy too,” he says without any weight to his voice, reaching for the coffee beans placed at the farthest corner of the pantry — the ones he also saves for very few mornings. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod quickly and excitedly, turning ninety degrees to open the refrigerator in search of milk. “I had to. There’s this big presentation today I’ve been preparing for five…”

“So there is something special going on.”

You stop in your tracks to look at Yoongi’s knowing smile, coffee grinder in front of him rumbling and doing its job while he waits.

“You’re a creature of habit, you know that, right? You wouldn’t drink this specific tea if something wasn’t going on.”

You smile at him, finally moving again to add a dash of milk to the mug and mixing it to check if it was enough. “If you weren’t so emotionless, I’d say that’s romantic.”

“Oh, you want romantic?” Yoongi’s tone goes up an octave, mocking you a little. “Fine. How about I love you more than coffee. In fact, I love you more than the smell of freshly ground beans in the morning and you know I love that very much. How about that, huh?”

It’s your turn to mock his words. “Oh, wow,” you gasp, raising a hand to the center of your chest. “How am I going to move on from this? I better email them saying I won’t be able to make it today. After this? Woof! No way I’ll be presenting anything but fifty slides of my favorite Yoongi pick-up lines.”

“That would be a satisfied client, don’t you think?” He plays along, adding the coffee to a French press and topping it with the water you just boiled. “Oh, do you want some toast? I feel like eating toast for some reason.”

And just like that, with Yoongi reaching for the toaster above your head, you’re both interested in something else. He pinches your side with his free hand and you take a step to your left, giving him enough space to place the appliance on top of the marble counter.

“You do have time for toast, right?” Yoongi asks as he turns it on and starts looking for bread. “I don’t want to make you late, the first two can be yours.”

“The tea is still a little too hot, I have time.”

“Good.” He nods shortly. “Sit down. These will be done in no time.”

You watch as Yoongi reaches for plates, knives, butter, strawberry jam and places all of them on the small kitchen table. Meanwhile, you sip the tea slowly, quietly enjoying it and, deep down, wishing for it to work its magic once again.

“Are you nervous about the presentation?” Yoongi asks just as he places two perfectly toasted slices of bread in front of you. He soon moves back to set two more on the toaster and turns to you again, waiting for an answer.

“I’m okay. It’s been worse.” You shrug, focusing on the butter as it melts when it meets the warm toast. “This client is nice. Even if they don’t agree with something, it’s not like…”

“Don’t bring Mr. Moon up again,” Yoongi warns you, slightly uncomfortable and somewhat ready to politely offend Mr. Moon if he ever showed up in front of him. “I’m still not over that. Who does he think he is to mistreat everyone because of a grammar mistake?”

You laugh at the way he seems so bothered by that. “It was a good thing, though, don’t you think? We kicked him out because we didn’t need his business if it meant we had to deal with that.”

“Serves him right,” he huffs. “He was being an ass for a long time, the grammar incident was just the tipping point.”

“And you don’t even know about the emails he sent to the junior analysts. He would literally…”

“Please,” Yoongi interrupts with a tight smile and warm eyes, nothing but light humor in his words. “Don’t make me hate him more. This is bad for myself, I have to be the better person.”

“You’re right,” you agree with a smile, taking a bite and adding a few words in a muffled voice. “He’s a problem of the past. And a solved one, thank God.”

You swallow just as Yoongi sits in front of you with perfectly done toasts for himself. He adds butter and strawberry jam to both of them before speaking again. “I’m glad you’re not nervous about this stuff anymore.”

“I’m glad too,” you admit and take a sip of the magical tea before continuing. “Shaky hands are also a problem of the past.”

“I want you to know I’m very proud of you. This sort of thing is not easy to overcome.” 

You giggle. “Yoon, you’re getting soft again.”

“When am I not?” He takes a bite and soon covers his mouth, not being able to stop a smile from forming. “I am a softie, this is who I am.”

“No, but you’re particularly soft today, I think. It all started when you were whining about me leaving the bed,” you say while getting up to place your plate in the sink. When you turn around, Yoongi is looking at you with what you can only describe as adoring eyes. “See? This is what I mean. Do you have a mirror? Look at yourself, there’s nothing not soft about you today.”

He’s the one giggling now, motioning for you to move with the hand that’s not busy with a toast. “Go finish getting ready, you’re going to be late!”

You hurry out of the kitchen with a smile, soon entering the bathroom to brush your teeth. It’s still kind of foggy, nothing but the perfume of Yoongi’s shower gel everywhere, and you have to wipe the mirror with a towel to see yourself properly.

The nervousness could be worse, yes, but it’s still there a little — well, today is the day you’ve been preparing for the last five weeks and there’s a lot at stake. You inhale and exhale deeply, concentrating on the goal rather than the challenge. What happens, happens, but you’re pretty sure you’ve done everything you could and that’s enough to leave you satisfied no matter the outcome.

“Yoongi, I’m leaving!” You call out, fixing a strap on your shoulder and immediately feeling the weight of the laptop and the heavy (but pretty) leather notebook you bought last fall — another one of the luxury items you treated yourself with. When you look up, the man is standing with another one of his knowing smiles and a thermos in hand.

“Were you really not going to drink every single drop of the tea you spend way too much money on?” He raises an eyebrow, extending his arm so you can take the travel mug from him. “I know you’re good and don’t need the magic from the tea, but…”

“Shut up,” you say jokingly, slapping his hand in the process. “And thank you.”

“Come here.”

Yoongi slowly takes a step to meet you halfway, hug awkward given the weight on your shoulder, but you couldn’t care less. He’s warm, inviting and has a comforting hand on your back while the other moves to cradle your jaw.

“I told you you’re particularly soft today,” you say just as he creates enough space to look into your eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi mumbles before pressing a kiss on your lips. You barely have time to register what is going on or close your eyes and it’s already over.

“Are you sure? Because every morning you kiss my forehead before I leave for work,” you point out, one eyebrow raised in doubt, but eyes as soft as his. “Why was it my lips today?”

“You may not notice, but the taste of black tea and honey on your lips…” He hums, closing his eyes to show just how much he likes it. “So good.”

“But I brushed my teeth.”

He leans in again and, this time, stays for a while longer — not barely enough for you, but you’d take anything with a smile.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. Still there.” He turns both your bodies, getting them closer and closer to the door. “Do you think this happens because the tea is that good and strong? Or maybe it’s because you don’t really do a good job brushing your teeth…”

“Ah, Yoongi!"

Before you know it, Yoongi is simultaneously opening the door, leaving another kiss on the corner of your mouth and pushing your body out. It seems like only a second has passed, but you find yourself right in front of the door when Yoongi is inside with only his head peeking through. 

“Don’t just stand there, you’re going to be late! Call me when the presentation is over and you have a yes, okay?”

He closes the door, but you can still hear him giggle on the inside.

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