#fall means NOTHING if you are in a hot enough climate

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

Laughs in Southern US at Lord Harlan Tyrell

[erimeows]

Self Conscious (NSFW)

Spring in Konoha has never truly existed. While today is the first day of the season, more than anything, it still feels like summer. It’s nothing new to Kakashi Hatake, who has lived in the village his entire life. He’s traveled enough to have experienced other climates, but he’s not too bothered by the ten month long stretches of blistering heat followed by only two months of pleasantly warm weather before it gets uncomfortably hot again. 

He lets out a sigh of relief when he walks into his apartment. The cool air washes over his sweaty skin as he shuts and locks the front door behind him.

Kakashi hears familiar footsteps against the wooden floor and looks to see you turning the corner from the hallway. 

“Hey, sweetie, how did physical therapy go?” You question.

“Fine enough,” Kakashi answers, then sighs. “Boring as always.”

Kakashi walks past you towards your shared bedroom. You follow close behind. He can’t help but notice that you’re wearing a tank top and shorts. He wants to tear them right off of you. However, there’s just one thing stopping him.

A healing hip.

Of all things… Roughly two months ago, he broke his hip on a mission. While incredibly painful and inconvenient, it didn’t require any surgery after Sakura worked on him, which he’s grateful for. What he’s not so grateful for are the weekly physical therapy sessions and the list of restrictions Tsunade has given him to follow while he heals; drink plenty of water, eat only healthy food, rest lots, and worst of all, no strenuous physical activity. 

What that means is no training, and worst of all for you and Kakashi, no sex.

Sure, the two of you can get off in other ways… But Kakashi misses it. As he watches you absentmindedly staring at yourself in the tall bedroom mirror, he wants it more than ever- wants you more than ever. He’s been wanting you so bad that he’s tried to seduce you a few times since the injury regardless of the restrictions he was given by medical personnel. Unsurprisingly, you care too much about him healing properly to let him have his way with you when he still has another month to go before he’s cleared to do anything. 

He sits on the edge of the bed and takes his shoes off, his one visible eye still trained on you. The straps of the tank top you’re wearing slide off of your shoulders. He can see the outline of your breasts and the stiff peaks of your hard nipples through the thin material of the shirt as the chill from the air conditioner blows over your bedroom. Your shorts tightly grip your hips and ride up to show your thighs.

“I’m glad it seems like you’re recovering well,” You grin and walk towards Kakashi so you can sit next to him. “I’m looking forward to next month when you’ll get your medical restrictions lifted.”

“Yeah, me too,” Kakashi looks you up and down before pulling his mask to let it fall loosely around his neck and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. “Come sit in my lap, pretty girl.”

You don’t hesitate- because just like Kakashi, the last two months have left you starved for touch- because even with kissing and cuddling and holding hands, the intimacy of sex is something that the two of you have missed desperately. 

You climb into Kakashi’s lap and put your knees on either side of his hips before leaning in and capturing his lips with your own. Kakashi kisses you back and tilts his head to deepen the connection. Your hands move up and down his body like they’re not sure where they want to go. Kakashi ends up grabbing them and pulling them until they’re gently resting on his neck, your small fingers wrapped around the pale skin, settled but not squeezing.

“Fuck, Kakashi,” You gasp, grinding your short-clad heat down against his stiffening cock and threading your soft fingers through his silver hair.

“I want you,” Kakashi breathes and practically tears your shorts from your body. There’s already a damp patch in the center of your white underwear as he circles your clit through the thin cloth with his fingers and uses his other hand to pull at your tank top. “Please, I need it. Let me have you.”

“You know we can’t,” You argue and break away from him to get off the bed. “You have to heal, Kakashi. Believe me- I want you, too, but I’d hate for two months of physical therapy and recovery on your end to be for nothing.”

Kakashi leans back onto the bed and huffs, his dick rock hard and aching for relief. His eyes flutter shut. 

“Okay.”

“I’m, uh,” You turn your back to Kakashi and go to the small drawer of your dresser to grab a vibrator. Then, you walk over to his side of the bed, press a kiss to his head, and start to walk the other direction. “I’ll just go take care of myself in the bathroom real quick.”

Kakashi sighs again. For the past two months, aside from the occasional oral, you two have hardly done anything- and any time you get yourself off, it’s either in another room or when he’s not home. At first, Kakashi didn’t mind too much, but he can’t help being curious… The two of you have been together for five years and you’ve never masturbated in front of him. Is it weird? He isn’t sure, as you’re his first serious romantic relationship. To him, though, it definitely feels weird. He’s even jerked off in front of you a few times and never thought anything of it.

You, however… Seem to be self conscious about it. 

Maybe he’s the weird one?

“Hey, (y/n),” Kakashi stops you by grabbing your hand.

You startle just slightly before turning to look back at him.

“Hm?” You hum.

“How come you never masturbate in front of me?”

“...Huh?” You tilt your head, a big blush taking over your (s/c) cheeks.

“I think you heard me.”

“Well, I guess I just-” You pause, refusing to look at Kakashi. “I don’t know, I never thought about it before.”

“Yeah?”

Silence… And not the comfortable kind that’s bound to happen between two people who have been together for five years. It’s the uncomfortable kind, the kind that happens when the two of you have an argument or an awkward discussion such as this. To Kakashi, sex isn’t awkward. With you, it never has been. Apparently, though, this aspect of it is awkward to you. The awkwardness is so palpable that Kakashi swears he can smell it in the air as you stammer over your words.

“I guess… I just feel like it’s weird?”

“Do you think it’s weird when I do it in front of you?”

“Well, no, but…”

“But what?”

“You know, with you looking the way you do, of course I wouldn’t mind,” You start to ramble. Your eyes dart between the bedsheets and the hardwood floors. “But you have the figure of a shinobi, and obviously, I don’t, so… I can’t help but be a little self conscious.”

“That’s all?” Kakashi asks, a small smile taking over his face. “I thought I’d done something or… Something. I don’t know.”

“No, you didn’t do anything. Don’t worry about it.”

You turn to walk away again, but before you can, Kakashi speaks up.

“Wait,” Upon hearing his voice, you stop to listen. “It’s important for you to know that I love you, and I’m still really attracted to you despite everything that’s been going on lately. You don’t ever need to be self conscious around me.”

“Oh… Well, that’s sweet of you to say, Kakashi.”

“It’s not me being sweet- it’s true. You’re beautiful,” Kakashi praises you, but he’s not an idiot. He can tell you don’t believe it; that you think he’s just trying to be nice or spare your feelings. Even after years of being with you, he has yet to make sense of why you’re so quick to brush off compliments. “I’ve never in my life wanted another ninja the way I want you.”

“Thank you,” You say with a sheepish smile. “You’re the best at making me feel better, but do you uh… Want me to…?”

“Want you to what?” Kakashi questions, raising an eyebrow. 

“Get myself off in front of you… Like you said,” You answer.

“Oh,” Kakashi blinks, then rushes to give you a good response before you get embarrassed and retract your offer. “Uh, yeah. I think I’d like it if you did, but you don’t have to if you’re not comfortable.”

“Okay,” You nod. “I think I’d like to try it soon.”

“Alright, but there’s really no pressure. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, and if we do decide to do it, you can stop at any time, and we can pretend it never happened.”

“Alright,” You say, but still, turn to the master bathroom with your vibrator in hand. “I’ll be right back… We can shower together after, okay?”

“Yeah… Sure.”

When you disappear into the other room, Kakashi sighs and pulls his pants down, wrapping a hand around the base of his length.

‘Another night of this… God, I miss her.’

~

The next day, while Kakashi is at a doctor’s appointment, you go on a shopping spree with some of your friends; Anko, Shizune, Kurenai, and Iruka. Your job as Anbu’s record keeper doesn’t pay an exorbitant amount, but it’s enough for you to comfortably support yourself and still be able to buy nice things, especially since you split your bills with Kakashi these days following his moving in with you.

So, when you pass by the nicest clothing store in Konoha’s shopping district and notice a beautiful (f/c) lingerie set on display in the window, you stop and look at it. 

The price is reasonable enough. It’s on sale, too.

You think back to last night; to that make out session with Kakashi and the awkward conversation that ensued. Maybe it would be nice for you to dress up for him since it’s been a couple months… You read something like that in one of his books once; the woman dresses up in a sexy outfit and sprawls out on the bed for the man to come home to. That seems right up his alley. Why not do it?

It’s a thought that makes you giddy at first, but then the doubt starts to creep into the back of your mind. What if it doesn’t look good on you? What if Kakashi’s turned off by it, or think it’s a stupid idea since the two of you can’t have sex right now? You want to try to please yourself in front of him like he mentioned… You’re just so terrified of him being unimpressed with you that you’re not sure if you can bring yourself to do it, even though he said he’d like it if you would.

You look around at your friends. They’re all shinobi with cut, perfect bodies, just like Kakashi. Beautifully slim waists, toned muscles, long legs, and so much talent. At times like this, you wonder why Kakashi is with a civilian record keeper like you instead of a beautiful kunoichi. You’re a good person, and you certainly don’t think you’re hideous or anything, but it’s difficult to maintain good self-esteem when you feel like you’re constantly surrounded by women who are more gorgeous than you.

Your eyes flicker to the lingerie set once more. You think about how you would look in it, versus how someone like Lady Tsunade would look in it… Obviously, a huge difference.

You’re not ridiculously out of shape- it’s impossible to be when you’re dating someone like Kakashi. Sadly, though, you don’t see yourself as a beautiful kunoichi either.

You frown.

What to do…

Kurenai interrupts your thoughts as she places a soft hand on your shoulder and speaks to you.

“What’s wrong, (y/n)?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” You give a dismissive wave with one hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure? It looks like there’s something on your mind.”

“It’s a bit silly, but… I want that lingerie set that’s on display.”

“Do you not have enough money for it?” Kurenai questions and stops to look at the display as well. Your cheeks burn red as the rest of the group notices and stops as well to gawk at the lacy garment. “I could pick it up for you.”

“Oh, no you don’t, Kurenai! You have a whole kid to take care of,” Anko objects and points to baby Mirai, who’s currently in Kurenai’s arms, babbling at the woman and trying to pull at her dark hair. “I’ll buy it for you, (y/n)!”

“No, no. As the most senior of the group and Lady Tsunade’s personal assistant, I make the most money out of all of us, so I should pay for it,” Shizune inserts herself into the conversation as well and reaches into her pockets to pull out a thick leather wallet.

“Why don’t I buy it?” Iruka offers.

“On a teacher’s salary?” Kurenai says with a quirked eyebrow, shaking her head. “I don’t think so, Iruka.”

“Hey, guys, I appreciate you all trying to help, but I have more than enough money to buy it,” You offer a nervous laugh, then stare at the ground, too embarrassed to meet the curious gazes of your friends. “That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is it?” Iruka turns his head to you and asks.

“I’m just scared it won’t look good on me.”

“You only live once,” Anko argues. “Go buy it or I’m buying it for you!”

“Yeah,” Kurenai agrees. “You’re beautiful, (y/n). (f/c) is a nice color on you, too, so I’m sure it’ll look great.”

“Okay, then… I guess I’ll go ahead and buy it for myself.”

Peer pressured by your friends, you trudge into the store and quickly buy yourself the set- even if you’re convinced you’ll never have the bravery to put it on in front of your lover. 

~

Later that night, you find yourself standing in front of the mirror with tears in your eyes. Kakashi is out with Guy, Asuma, Genma, and Ebisu, doing God knows what- though that’s not the problem.

Rather, the problem is the lingerie set you bought from that store earlier. You’re standing in front of your bedroom mirror with pretty makeup on your face, a sparkly choker around your neck, and your hair done. You look good from the neck up, but the lingerie isn’t working; the bra, the panties, the garters, the matching thigh highs… None of it works. Your sex toys are on the bed, waiting to be used. 

With how insecure you’re feeling right now, you’re sure you’ll end up taking all of this off- including the matching (f/c) nail polish, shoving the sex toys in the back in their designated drawer, showering, and crying yourself to sleep before Kakashi even makes it home. 

“Ugh, this is stupid. Why did I even do this?” You groan, unsatisfied with how the lingerie contours your body. Even though it’s your size, it doesn’t fit quite right. You hate the way it makes your butt look, it’s a little too tight around your hips, and the bra just sucks. No wonder it was on sale… You huff and take the choker off, then start to wipe the makeup from your face when you feel a set of large hands on your waist. The makeup wipe and choker both fall to the floor as you gasp in surprise. You glance at the mirror to see Kakashi standing behind you. “Kakashi! I didn’t hear you come in! When did you get home?”

“Hey, pretty girl,” Kakashi greets you and rests his chin on your shoulder. He completely ignores your question in favor of trailing his hands up and down your exposed body. “What’s all this for?”

“I, um…” With Kakashi appearing so suddenly, you feel caught off guard and are unsure of what to do, even as Kakashi spins you around and pulls you close to his chest.

“Did you dress up just for me?”

“Well, yeah, but it doesn’t look the way I wanted.”

“What do you mean? It looks great,” Kakashi drags his mask down his face and leans down to whisper into your ear at the same time he grabs your ass. “How nice to come home to this after the day I’ve had.”

“Yeah? Did you have a rough day?”

“It was just long. As much as I love them, going out with those guys can be so exhausting sometimes, especially after a doctor’s appointment… I’m really pent up because I just couldn’t stop thinking about you… And about last night,” Kakashi gestures back to the bed with a knowing smirk. “I see your toys out on the bed. Was that your plan?”

You blush from your head to the middle of your chest at Kakashi’s words. You were hoping to get changed and erase any evidence of your plan before he got home, but he actually seems… Pleased?

“Well, um-”

“It’s a simple question, (y/n),” Kakashi reaches for your chin and gently tilts it up to make you meet his gaze. “Give me a yes or no answer.”

“...Yes,” You whisper back.

“You were gonna surprise me, hm? What a good girl.”

“Y-Yeah,” You stutter. You’re unsure of where to put your hands, so you place them on Kakashi’s shoulders as you press a kiss against his neck. “Sorry I didn't finish getting ready before you got here.”

“Are you serious right now? Don’t apologize to me for this,” Kakashi laughs, then quickly shifts. His voice drops in pitch and lust glazes over his one visible eye. “Now, get on the bed.”

“Okay.”

You rush to follow Kakashi’s order so fast that you nearly trip over your own feet. You sit on the bed and crawl back with Kakashi following close behind.

“I know it’s been hard for you since I had my injury. Thank you for being so patient, but I don’t want you to have to keep waiting up on me, even if we can’t have sex for a little longer,” Kakashi reaches forward and rests a hand on your cheek, caressing you so tenderly that it makes your heart throb. “I want… To see and help make you feel good.”

“Kakashi, I don’t think it’s such a good idea-” You object, gesturing to his hip, but Kakashi simply shakes his head and sits beside you.

“I won’t do anything crazy, alright?” Kakashi argues as he hurriedly sheds his clothes. His forehead protector, dark blue undershirt, matching pants, face mask, and boxers are all thrown to the floor with haste. When Kakashi looks back at you, the intensity in his eyes has you swallowing a nervous lump in your throat that you didn’t even know was there in the first place. “I don’t think I can handle another night of you disappearing into the bathroom when I’m right here, dying to take care of you.”

“Then… What do you want me to do?”

“Show me how you like to touch yourself.”

And it’s a little awkward. Part of you is tempted to say no, to get embarrassed and back down, to retreat into the bathroom again. But when you look up at Kakashi’s eyes to see how excited he looks, you remember that he thinks you’re beautiful; that he wants this, wants you.

“Okay.”

You scoot back onto the bed, lay your head on the pillow, sprawl out, and reach between your legs with both hands. Your fingers on one hand toy with your clit, while the fingers on the other hand circle your slick entrance. Kakashi grabs your vibrator for you, turns it on, and pushes it into the hand in front of your clit. You take the gesture for what it is and rub your clit with the tip of the vibrator. A low noise leaves your lips as you tilt your head back and close your eyes.

“Look at me,” Kakashi commands, much to your embarrassment. You open your eyes and look up at his face with a pout. Pleasure starts to rumble low in your body like a base. “Good girl… Are you embarrassed?”

“A little,” You answer, but spread your legs a little more and start to fuck yourself with your fingers at a steady pace. 

“Don’t be,” Kakashi says as he grabs his dick by the base and works it until it’s fully hard. Your mouth waters- you wish he would just fuck you, but you know you can’t. “You’re so beautiful, especially like this… Do you see how hard I am for you right now?”

“Y-Yeah,” You breathe out, because you do. Kakashi’s cock is red and stiff, with precum at the tip and veins lining the length of it. “Want it inside me…”

“That’s too bad.”

Kakashi lightly smacks at your wrist, so you slide your fingers out of your pussy and look at him with curious eyes. He doesn’t speak to you, instead laying down, snuggling into your side, and moving a hand between your legs. He fills you back up immediately by sliding two fingers into your heat. The two are quickly followed by a third before he starts fucking you with them so deeply that the action draws a high-pitched moan from between your lips, which is quickly muffled by Kakashi kissing you.

It’s different from regular sex, or even just Kakashi eating you out. You’re used to his face squished between your thighs, buried in your neck, or staring at your back as he has you bent over; not right next to yours, staring, watching.

The noise in the room only contributes to your arousal; the wet squelch that comes from Kakashi’s digits pistoning into you, the low buzz from your vibrator against your clit, the hums and moans from Kakashi as he quickly moves his hand over his dick. A dribble of precum drips down onto your thighs, and you rub them together in excitement for what’s to come.

With Kakashi hitting your sweet spot and kissing you like he’s starving for you, you’re right on the edge, but there’s something stopping you from cumming like this. Your eyes flutter open and meet Kakashi’s. The tomoe in his Sharingan swirl; a sign that he’s trying to record this moment for himself. You realize that it’s the anxiety. A mental block. You’re so self conscious about being watched that it’s keeping you from finishing, because what if you make a weird face? Or a noise that turns him off?

You break away from Kakashi’s kisses to let out a frustrated groan.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I’m-” You huff, dying for release. “I’m super nervous and it’s- it’s making me take way longer than I usually do to finish like this… I’m sorry if I’m taking too long.”

“Stop. You’re not taking too long at all,” Kakashi scolds you as he continues to pump his cock with one hand and thrust his fingers in and out of you with the other. “If you want to be good for me, you’ll cum, and I don’t care how long it takes... You can take all night if you want, pretty girl. It’s not that different from sex, okay? Take your time.”

You don’t do anything in response except to let out a needy whine, which seems to please Kakashi, who alternates between kissing your neck and tits. His approval- the lack of judgment, the admiration, the utter love and adoration- is what sends you over the edge as you dial your vibrator to the highest setting and arch your back. You cum with a loud cry and fall flat onto the bed. 

Your legs tremble and shake as you pull your vibrator away from your clit and jerk away from Kakashi’s fingers. He’s kind enough to gently slide them out as he paints your thighs white with his cum, his face buried in your neck and your name leaving his lips like it’s a mantra. You pull him close and press a kiss into his sweat-dampened hair. Your eyes flutter open and shut as Kakashi continues to kiss at your neck, worshiping you even after the both of you have finished.

“Kakashi?” You start.

“Hm?” He hums and pulls away from your neck to glance up at you with one charcoal eye and one ruby red one. “What is it, (y/n)?”

“Did you really like that, or did you only want to do it because you thought I’d like it? You know, since we haven’t been able to have sex?”

“Mah, you always overthink everything,” Kakashi grumbles and sits straight up on the bed. “I did it because I thought you’d like it and because I knew I’d like it. It’s like I said before; you’re beautiful. Can you blame me for wanting to watch you a bit?”

Even with Kakashi’s sweet words, you can’t help feeling self conscious… But tonight has made you feel a little better. You don’t know how to respond, so instead, you reach for Kakashi’s hand and hold it within your own.

“Why don’t we go shower and change the sheets?” You ask, gesturing to the wet spots on the bed from what the two of you have just done. “We’re kind of a mess.”

“Sure,” Kakashi answers, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. Before he enters the room, he turns to look at you over his shoulder. “But don’t be surprised if a shower leads to a round two.”

With that, he’s gone into the bathroom, and you can’t help but laugh as you get up and follow after him.

[crow-stars]

❝LET'S GO ICE SKATING❞

❦summary; ice skating can be such a fun time, though that may depend on whether you're new to the rink or have a bit of experience under your belt. ♪the characters in this story; octavinelle; azul ashengrotto, jade leech, floyd leech, gn!reader ✎word count; ~674 words ❀what do the ghosts say?; ambiguous, school trip to an ice skating rink, falling chatacters, first times on ice, mentions of climates in respective twst characters homeland, fun times ☛the author's notes; nothing to note... ☪look at the catalogue?

❛AZUL ASHENGROTTO❜

❀ He would be... less than graceful

❀ You know that one art with Azul falling because he slipped on a banana peel? Yeah... 

❀ And he was so confident about it too!

❀ Sure, it was cold, and sure, his human legs have never touched ice, but he thought it couldn’t be too bad! 

❀ He was wrong.

❀ So, so wrong.

❀ The first moment he got on the ice, immediately slipped and fell on his butt

❀ Got up, tried again, and he fell

❀ Got up and decided to just hug the rails because he was not ready to be embarrassed for a third time

❀ He’s definitely going to be hugging the walls for most of the time on the ice, no doubt

❀ Azul refuses to try and go further than an arm’s length away from the railing

❀ His legs are horrendously shaky and he doesn’t. Know. How. To. Stop 

❀ Why did it look so much easier in the shows he watched?

❀ “Because they’ve practiced on the ice way more than you have Azul.” shut it jade

❀ But yeah, Azul isn’t getting much movement on the ice. 

❀ He’s used to the cold, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting whenever he falls

❀ Azul is definitely not going back on the ice, no matter how much you or anyone else try to convince him. 

❀ Maybe he would try selling some hot chocolate though...

❛JADE LEECH❜

❀ Jade has never been on ice before 

❀ So how is he so well balanced on the ice???

❀ No seriously, he’s stable, he can properly skate around and he hasn’t fallen either

❀ How is he doing that?

❀ I like to think that Jade actually has really good balance, so being on ice is a bit of a challenge at first, but he gets it soon enough 

❀ He’s not going to be doing anything flashy, but he’ll definitely be doing small circles around the rink or just idly skating by

❀ If you’re struggling, Jade would lend a hand, though not without a bit of teasing 

❀ Small things like poking at your side to make you fall stumble or just deciding to stop suddenly stop if you’re holding onto him

❀ Jade would apologize, but he’s definitely going to do it again

❀ I do think that Jade would find some enjoyment in ice skating and dabble in it from time to time 

❀ Though he wouldn’t take every opportunity to go skating, he wouldn’t protest to going 

❀ In my honest opinion, I think he’s rather go foraging in the woods to go find new mushrooms or plants he hasn’t discovered yet.

❀ I actually think that he’d prefer that rather than ice skating if it was an option

❛FLOYD LEECH❜

❀ Do not let him on the ice

❀ Not because he would be an absolute mess on the ice, no

❀ It’s because Floyd is a menace and has no spatial awareness. 

❀ I mean, he having fun at least? 

❀ But also he should probably have the rink to himself if he really wants to enjoy his time there 

❀ I wouldn’t be surprised if he picked up ice skating because he was bored. It seems like something Floyd would do

❀ And going in shorts in the winter also seems like something he would do, but we’re not here to talk about Floyd’s fashion sense (another post another day) 

❀ Anyway, Floyd definitely has a blast when ice skating because he really fast

❀ How and when he learned how to ice skate?

❀ Oh simple. 

❀ Spite

❀ See, I like to think that when Floyd got to experience winter for the first time, he saw a frozen over lake and thought he could easily walk over it

❀ He was wrong and fell straight ass on the ice

❀ Floyd was completely confused while Jade was laughing by the side

❀ And Floyd was embarrassed, he wasn’t sad, no

❀ He was going to go and conquer the ice. He had bruises for weeks but hey! Floyd learned how to ice skate!

❀ Most definitely would love to go and ice skate in his freetime

❀ That just means more opportunities to conquer the ice

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] Of Cutoff Shorts and Classic Cars

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling (Hob x Dream) Rated: E Word Count: 4337 Tags: PWP, cutoff shorts, classic cars, unintended uses for classic cars, Top Dream, Bottom Hob, Top Hob, Bottom Dream, they're doing a lot and switching up okay, sex with (some) clothes still on, sweat is sexy, Dream has a human kink, for Hob in particular, rimming, anal sex, felching, shapeshifting for sex, Dream has a vulva, vaginal sex, cream pie, eating the cream pie, cunnilingus, squirting, squirting facial, Hob Gadling 600 Year Reigning King of Eating Pussy, Dream of the Endless is a Horny Little Weasel

Notes: Inspired by this pic and Discord conversation surrounding it. Written in conjunction with Smune prompts 'rimming' and '"What are you?"' (which I altered slightly, shh). I also had to study the half-naked Ferdie gifs from Silo so much for the first bit of this. Oh, the hardships we endure for our art…

Summary: Hob has made some Very Distinct Wardrobe Choices on a warm day. Dream approves.

On AO3

~~~ "Hello, Ho—"

The greeting dies on Dream's tongue before it quite finishes forming, the sight of his friend, his lover, utterly arresting as Dream manifests behind him. Hob is wearing—is not wearing—he is clad in sturdy workman's boots and nothing else, save a pair of well-worn jeans that have been. Cut, so short, they hardly preserve Hob's modesty. The full length of his legs is on display, his calves and thighs rich with thick glorious hair; the backs of his knees. Glisten, with sweat, in the heat, and.

And.

A substantial curve, of cheek, is peeking from beneath the hacked-off denim, particularly prominent when Hob is. Bent over, the side of an automobile, tinkering beneath the hood. 1970 Triumph Stag, Saffron Yellow, the collective subconscious informs him, but he can hardly concern himself with retaining that information as Hob straightens up and turns.

"Dream!" His smile splits his face wide, and normally Dream would bask in that bright welcome, let himself smile in return, but not.

Not when his eyes are drawn, inexorably, tidally, to the sweat-damp curls adorning Hob's chest, to the. Trail, of hair down his stomach, the sweet dip of his navel, the trim soft curves where his waist flows into his hips, the bulge in the worn denim riding low just beneath.

"Dream?"

It is an effort of monumental proportions, to return his eyes to Hob's face. "Hob." He licks his lips, feeling both as though he is. Parched, inexplicably, while his mouth also waters. "Your. Clothing."

It fails to be the question he means to ask. Hob takes his meaning nonetheless, glances down at himself and then skyward with a brief smile. "Seemed sensible for working out back on the car? It's hot."

"Yes. It is."

Hob of course means the weather. Dream. Does not, and the inexorable fall of his gaze back to where Hob's shapely well-furred thighs emerge from frayed denim so short that the pockets hang visible underneath makes that obvious. Hob. Does not fail to notice, and the smirk, that colors his voice when he speaks, is warm.

"Well then. S'pose that's enough faffing about with the engine for today. Let me just—" He turns, reaches, and Dream can barely keep back the sound that would flee his mouth. The lines of Hob's arms, Hob's back, stretching up to close the hood—they are exquisite, sweat gleaming in the sun, a bead of it. Trickling down, the hollow of Hob's spine, disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts; Dream swallows a whimper, disappears his coat. He is hardly subject to the climate of the waking, but his body is aflame and he would do with less in this moment.

The hood closes with a metallic clunk and Hob turns, wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, and Dream. Has reached his limit. "Come inside?" Hob is offering, and with barely a thought Dream is tasting the words from his mouth before they are fully shaped, his kiss wet and open and violently eager; is backing Hob against the side of the automobile, fingertips seeking the sloping lines of his hips, thumbs pressing over his iliac crest on either side. His touch dips beneath Hob's meager excuse for clothing and Hob's fists curl into the back of his grey t-shirt; Dream slides both hands to grip the meat of Hob's backside and squeezes, catching the whimper that rises from Hob's throat with his tongue.

"I am. Where I currently wish to be," he breathes, mouthing next over Hob's up-tilted chin, three days' worth of stubble rough against his lips; he recognizes that going indoors is perhaps the socially acceptable course but. The sight. Of Hob as he is, barely clothed, gleaming with life beneath the sun, is irresistible. He moves to the base of Hob's throat, licks flat against it, all the way back up, the salt-sweat taste of him absolutely delectable.

"O-okay then," Hob laughs, a trembling and pleasant sound, pulse eager under Dream's mouth, and Dream squeezes Hob's backside again, grinds against him with intent. The worn denim hides nothing; if he cared to draw back, to look, Dream is. Certain, that he would find Hob's interest questing out the leg of the scant garment. He grinds again, nosing along Hob's bared collarbone, the side of his neck; Hob's skin is warm with both sun and exertion, sheened in sweat and Dream. Inhales, taking in the heady scent, dizzy with the pleasure of it.

"God's bloody wounds, Dream—" It is a groan, Hob's hips pressing eagerly against his own in return, and Dream. Cannot restrain his want, sucks a rosy bruise into bloom on Hob's throat and nimbly moves to open Hob's fly, draws back and yanks the cutoffs down.

Hob gasps at the abrupt change. "What are you—?"

Dream seizes Hob by the arms, cuts off his question with another kiss, manhandles him around and bends him over the hood, above the wheel well. Dream then folds to his knees behind Hob, shoves the shorts all the way to the ground and wrests them off one leg completely, leaves them looped around the other ankle as he pushes Hob's boots apart. "Spread for me," he manages, face on a level with Hob's magnificently hairy arse, the scent of him nearly palpable.

Hob gives a breathless chuckle, widening his stance obediently even as he lodges a half-hearted complaint. "We're in the back garden, love—not exactly public, but not quite private either?"

Dream cards his fingers through the hair covering the backs of Hob's thighs, stroking up, up, over the swell of each cheek at last, parting them reverently. "None will see what we do, unless you wish it," he assures, mouth watering, and buries his face with an eager sigh.

"At least let me show—ohh—shower—nnghh—" Hob trails into a moan as Dream probes slickly at his hole, protest dying half-spoken, decimated under the eager onslaught of Dream's tongue.

"I would have you as you are," Dream gasps, drawing back briefly; he licks the taste of Hob from his lips, licks a long stripe from the base of Hob's scrotum all the way to the tip of his tailbone. "You are. Exquisite—" He licks again, deep and unhurried, tongue against hair and skin and scent—human scent, Hob's scent, rich and earthy, salt and sweat and musk and Dream. Cannot get. Enough.

He feasts, and feasts, his tongue thorough and enthusiastic, his mouth upon Hob hungry, starving, intimately gluttonous. He spends long moments sunk in this indulgence, Hob babbling encouragement all the while, until at last the heat in his loins clamors so loudly for satiation that he cannot ignore it. He shifts aspects of his form, tongue long and tapered, saliva slick and viscous, and returns to Hob's hole with focused intent. "Oh yes," Hob gasps, at that first incursion, eager and accommodating, and Dream squeezes his cheeks, scratches lightly at the hair on them, pulls them marginally further apart. His tongue delves relentlessly into Hob, working deep, gently unfurling him to full readiness; he does not stop until Hob is trembling, breathless, scattering pleas over the hood of his car—"Dream, please, need you in me, dove, please—"

And Dream obliges him, eagerly, rises up and vanishes his slim black trousers, keeps his boots, takes his prick in hand to line up and pushes. Into Hob's body, sinks in him to the root. He is stricken still for just an instant, arrested by the heat of Hob pulsing around him, the arch of Hob's spine as his head goes up and back, the sound that comes out of Hob's throat. Hob's hair is tied up off his neck in a messy bun and Dream. Itches to seize it, to hold his body in this arc, to drive into him hard and slow and deep until he is incoherent with pleasure. But Dream is not currently. Possessed, of the patience for such a tryst; he grips Hob instead by the waist, draws back, slams into him again and Hob drops his forehead to the hood with an appreciative groan.

"God, yes, please fuck me—"

Dream shudders at that, thrusts deep again, and again, sets into a frenetic pace that sends the need within him soaring, bursting with the delight of being given into, fulfilled. Hob is left panting, scrabbling for purchase against the smooth sunny finish of the hood, gleefully welcoming the fierce vigor of Dream's attentions and gasping out endearments and expletives on every breath.

"Holy shit—ahh—oh love—if I'd known I'd get—get this kind of reaction—I'd have shown you my—my car—ages ago—" The cheeky grin is clear in his voice, despite everything.

"It. Is not. The car," Dream gasps, between thrusts, the want in his belly molten and roaring and spiraling beyond any will he might have had to contain it. He gives it free rein, fucking wild and wanton into Hob's willing body, fully aware that he will reach his peak before Hob does, chasing it all the harder. The smell of Hob clings richly to his face, fragrant in his nose, his mouth; he leans down, licks the sweat from Hob's back, a sweet thrill of more beneath the sparking flaring joy of their coupling. He grips Hob by his beautiful hips, throws his head back and takes and takes and takes until his pleasure crests abruptly, erupting through his core and spilling deep into Hob.

"Give it to me," Hob moans, a half-instant after Dream has already done so, rocking back, squeezing tight about Dream. "All of it, darling, give me everything—"

Dream shudders, holds him fast and pushes as far into him as possible, lets Hob milk him through the tremors of completion. Hob makes a needy sound when he finally pulls out and Dream runs both hands down the sweaty hair along his flanks and back up, soothing him, promising him. "Hush, my Hob," he croons, and bends to drop a soft kiss between Hob's warm damp shoulder blades.

He is not nearly sated, but he would like. Something different, as they continue. He reshapes his form, trades his spent prick for the soft folds of a wet cunt, feels the thrill of renewed arousal pulsing all through him as the shift completes. He drops into a squat behind Hob, parts his cheeks again and plunges back in, lapping up the spend that leaks prettily from Hob's pink and open hole. The taste of himself blended with the taste of Hob is heady, intoxicating, unbearably arousing, and Dream. Buries his face deeper, with a whine. He is throbbing and alive between his own legs, deliberately spread open by his position; he is most certainly dripping on the driveway. Hob is moaning and gasping on the hood of the car, pushing back onto Dream's face eager and shameless, cock leaking; he has not once tried to touch it, letting Dream do as he pleases, trusting that his pleasure will be seen to, and Dream. Aches, with how easy things are between them.

When he has sucked every last trace of his own spend from Hob's hole, greedy, voracious, he places a final kiss over the open emptiness that he leaves behind and stands, wipes his mouth on the neck of his t-shirt. There is indeed a small puddle, glistening on the driveway beneath him, and he feels the trickle of slick running now down his thighs.

Good.

It is what Hob deserves.

"Come," he purrs, pulling Hob up off the car, leading him the few steps around to the front of it. Hob is still in his boots, cutoffs still caught about his one ankle; his cock is standing at rapt attention and leaking steady threads of precome. He is hairy and sweaty and ready, well-fucked but still hungry, and Dream does not require breath but still he loses it at how utterly beautiful Hob is like this.

"Dream, love," Hob declares fervently, in supplication. "You've got me so worked up—I need you, I—"

Dream presses two fingers to his lips to cut him short, hoists himself to sit on the bright yellow hood with a smile. He vanishes his boots, leans back on his elbows and draws his knees up, legs spread wide, sopping cunt on full display.

"Then have me, Hob Gadling," he invites, and Hob whines breathlessly, steps up and yanks him closer by the hips, slick smearing on the car beneath. He wastes no time, sinking easily into Dream, spearing him with feverish care and a heartfelt groan, leaning down to kiss him as well. Dream gasps and it is lost in Hob's mouth, rekindled into a moan as Hob fucks smoothly into him again.

"You taste like me," Hob says delightedly into the kiss, hips picking up into a swift steady rhythm, gliding fast and easy in the wet grip of Dream's body. "I can taste you, too—mixed in—god, that's hot—"

Dream throws one arm around his neck to drag him nearer and plunges his tongue up into Hob's mouth, hooks his legs around Hob and digs one bare heel into the furry curves of Hob's arse, urging him on. He is absolutely aflame with his need, wonderfully swollen and wanting around Hob inside him, climbing higher up the slope of his pleasure every time Hob slams home. His head falls back out of the kiss and he pants, open-mouthed, a show of arousal meant to stoke Hob's fervor. Hob draws back somewhat and Dream shifts with him, hand gripping behind Hob's neck to keep him from going too far. Hob takes hold of his waist beneath the hem of the grey t-shirt and Dream plants his feet on Hob's hips, knees butterflied out to keep himself as open as possible, the angle deep and exquisite. He lifts his head again, locks eyes with Hob, fingers the flyaway hairs at his nape that have escaped their loose confinement and Hob whines, fucks into him faster.

"You're so beautiful," he gasps, and the words drop like molten liquid into the sea of Dream's arousal, wetness surging around Hob's prick. "Gorgeous—just like this—Dream, fuck—I'm gonna—"

"Yes," Dream hisses, still holding Hob's gaze from beneath his lashes as his head tilts back again, alive with the slick friction and the glorious fullness of Hob's prick, the imminent promise of Hob's spend within him. He lets go of Hob's neck, leans again on both elbows as Hob straightens up fully, arches back and slams Dream onto his cock again and again and again, breath a torn-off whine at the bottom of every thrust. Dream moans, flexes his toes against Hob's pistoning hips, anticipation thick and warm in his belly. "Fill me, Hob—to the brim, with your—ahh—with your seed—that you might. Taste, the fruits of your labors—"

Hob whines, shudders, rhythm faltering as orgasm bears down on him. "Is that what you want, sweet?" he chokes out, desperate, determined. "Fill you up and—ahh—eat you out?"

"Yes," Dream gasps, trembling with his need of it, "yes yes YES—"

Hob slams into him with a strangled cry, pulsing, rocks back and slams in again, pulling Dream's body as far onto his prick as it will go. Wet warmth blooms deep within Dream and he moans, squeezes tight about Hob, wanting everything. Hob's hands at his waist clench as his hips jerk again, and then one hand moves upward, shaking as it skates over the grey t-shirt and up to Dream's chest, his shoulder, behind his neck. Hob's mouth crashes down against his, both of them panting into the other before Hob adjusts, kissing him fiercely, wet and open and. Zealous, with his tongue, as if he would devour Dream whole.

Hob is going soft within him and Dream squirms; it is there that he would have Hob's tongue, despite the pleasure he takes in being kissed this way. It is not the first time that he has shaped his body thus for Hob, but it is the first time he has invited Hob to partake with his mouth, and he is quite suddenly desperate for it. When Hob's cock at last slips wetly from him, he breaks away from the kiss. "Hob—" It is more plea than demand; Hob heeds it either way.

"'Course love. Hang on." He straightens with a grin, shifts, scoots Dream unceremoniously further up the hood of the car until he's got room to lean down comfortably, to bury his face where Dream is wet and overflowing.

Dream cannot stifle the sound that he makes, does not even try.

"Oh, fuck," Hob gasps, reverently, after the first stroke of his tongue. "Holy shit—oh my god—" His hands scrabble at Dream, push his thighs wide, draw his feet up to brace on Hob's shoulders and then Hob dives back in, lapping and slurping at the mess in Dream's cunt with abandon. He does not surface for at least two full minutes, during which Dream is. Voiceless, with the pleasure of Hob's tongue squirming eagerly into him, laving and licking up and down the valley of him, Hob's mouth grazing and sucking upon his folds. When Hob finally does lift his head, his eyes are fever bright and half his face is glazed with spend and slick.

"I could eat you out for days," he pants, breathless and grinning. "Fucking—ambrosial, you are, can't get enough, and with me mixed in?" He shakes his head, stabs his tongue into Dream and licks heavily up between his lips with a sensual groan, curls gently across his clit in parting. His arms slide under Dream's thighs and wrap over the top of each, gripping firmly but gently, holding him open. "Give me more. Give me all of it—"

Dream seizes the messy bun of his hair and shoves Hob's face back down with a keening whine, bucks into Hob's mouth as it opens, Hob's laugh muffled into his folds.

It is Hob's turn to feast, mouth working over Dream with boundless enthusiasm and considerable skill, ravenous and insatiable. He makes short work of the last of his own spend and then he is lapping up all of Dream's copious slick as it continues to well from him in a beautiful over-abundance of stimulation. Hob's tongue teases generously about his entrance, between his labia, warm and wet and beautiful; Hob glides the tip of his nose against Dream's clit, again and again, driving him higher and higher, and Dream is consumed by the strength of his need.

"More," he gasps out, hips undulating desperately into the press of Hob's attentions, fist still clenched in the knot of his hair. The stubble on Hob's face is a delicious rasp against wet delicate skin and Dream is febrile with the onslaught of sensation that is still, maddeningly, insufficient. "Hob—I need—" He is empty, devastatingly empty; Hob's tongue is glorious but simply cannot reach far enough inside him to satisfy. "Fill me—Hob—!"

"As you wish," Hob breathes, then kisses wet and filthy up the length of his slit and slides two fingers into him as he reaches Dream's clit. His tongue laves over it heavily, very nearly too much, then gentles as Hob strokes him tenderly from within. Dream writhes, head hanging back between his shoulders and mouth open, voice caught in his throat; he tugs restlessly at Hob's hair to urge him on, fraught with the mounting tension and his dizzying need for release. Hob chuckles, warm and fond and muffled in Dream's flesh, his fingers shifting into a proper thrusting motion and his tongue dancing prettily above; it leaves Dream shaking. Hob draws fully out of him, returns with another finger added and it is everything, so close to perfect that Dream could sob with it.

He lifts his head with effort to take in the sight of Hob diligently working between his legs, Hob's tangled bun threaded in his own pale fingers, Hob's warm and depthless eyes flicking up to meet his briefly over a particularly inspired twist of Hob's tongue. It is all so much, so achingly inexpressibly good; he can. Feel, the precipice approaching, and allows himself to be lost in the immediacy of it—in the glory of Hob's mouth hot upon him there, tongue tip drawing delicate flickering patterns all over the swollen bud of his clit; of Hob's fingers, three thick, blunt and perfect within him, pressing and thrusting exactly right and Dream cries out, back arching as his pleasure crests. His hand seizes tight in Hob's hair and his hips cant up and forward, into the source of it, thighs shaking; Hob shifts, curls his fingers sharply and Dream shrieks, fluid rushing abruptly from him, soaking Hob's chin and wrist, running all over the car beneath. Gasping, suspended in the pulsing euphoria, he rides the high of his climax, body taut and trembling until Hob's tongue on his clit becomes too much. He collapses then, pulling Hob up and off him by the hair; in the same instant Hob's fingers within him curl sharply once more and fluid jets from him again, splashes Hob square in the face.

Hob makes a noise of unparalleled delight and drops his head back down, Dream's hand falling loose in his hair. Hob's fingers are still in Dream and he thrusts with them again, curled deep and insistent, then again, and again, and again and again and Dream. Cannot hold back his keening wail; it is a sweet throbbing fullness that swells with every quick thrust until he crests again, different from clitoral orgasm but no less intense. There is fluid spilling from him steadily now as he trembles through it, not the jets of a moment before but a flow like a dam released and Hob's mouth is full upon him to receive it, lapping it up, drinking him down, careful to leave his over-sensitive clit be.

"Fuck," Hob gasps, fingers still working as Dream goes limp, wringing the last trickles of it from Dream's overwrought body; he's licking thoroughly, unhurriedly, savoring the taste of Dream as Dream had savored him, and Dream is. Sated, for the moment, pleased, a comfortable lassitude radiating through him like sunlight in the veins he does not need. Hob's lingering attentions only feed that warmth, easing him down from the heights with such enthusiastically tender skill that Dream is nearly purring when Hob lifts away at last.

He's panting, still; understandably so. He has given Dream exquisite pleasure and the evidence of it is glistening across so much of his face, wet in his stubble, his chest hair. He slides his fingers out of Dream and directly into his own mouth, sucking them clean with a pop, spreading them and licking every last trace of it from each. Dream watches him raptly; then, leaning up, he takes the hem of his grey t-shirt and wipes at Hob's face.

"I have made quite the mess of you," he observes; he cannot bring himself to feel. Particularly contrite about it, but wonders if perhaps he ought. "My apologies."

"Are you kidding?" Hob winks. "Nothing like a good soak on a hot day. Quite refreshing." He kisses Dream warmly between his damp and sticky thighs, lingering there without going further. "I really hope it's not the last time, either," he says, into Dream's spent flesh. "I loved it, and you taste amazing. And besides." He looks up, chin resting lightly on Dream's mound. "I'm very good at eating cunt, got a face built for it some say, and I'd love to put my centuries of practice to work for you." It is said sincerely, however boastful the words might sound alone, and Dream finds that he is. Eager, to experience more of Hob's skill.

"I would. Have you, again," Dream asserts, arousal beginning to whisper gently along his skin once more. "In every way that I might."

Hob flashes his beautiful blinding grin. "Well, I'm afraid my prick is done, for an hour or two at least. However. My mouth and my fingers and the toy collection upstairs are at your disposal, dove, and my arse as well—you can give yourself a cock again and fuck me six ways from Sunday if you like. But first—" he shifts, gathers Dream into his arms, scoops him off the hood of the car and straightens up, Dream's legs wrapping firmly around him, clinging. "First, I am taking you inside out of this heat. I do have aircon, y'know."

"I am. Unbothered, by the temperature," Dream allows, as Hob carries him across the garden. He smells of sex and sweat and sunshine, of Dream's release drying on his skin—a heady mix, and Dream nuzzles into the crook of his neck, inhales the scent of him, already craving more.

"Yes well. I am, and I'd have taken us inside to begin with had you given me the chance."

"I did not hear you complaining."

"Oh I wasn't, no. Still not." Hob chuckles, the sound rich in his throat beneath Dream's wandering lips. "Really flattering to be jumped out of the blue like that, actually, however unexpected."

"If you did not wish for me to ravish you on sight, your wardrobe was very poorly chosen," Dream offers, not at all contrite, and Hob laughs, a bright and beautiful sound as he maneuvers through the patio doorway of his house.

"Cutoff jeans that let my arse peek out and work boots, that's what gets you going. I will remember that."

"Mmh," Dream demurs, and sets his tongue to tasting the sweet scent of Hob's skin again as he's carried up the stairs.

The cutoffs in question, the scant garment that had seized Dream's attention and set fire to his lust, they are still hooked on Hob's boot; he finally shakes them loose somewhere on the way up before reaching his bedroom.

===== Started: 6/16/23 Drafted: 6/25/23 Posted: 7/3/23

We are probably not dealing with a 'Hob has a flat above the New Inn' situation, as I imagine backyards and garage space are unlikely to exist in conjunction with flats built over pubs in the middle of the city. Hob can have a nice suburban two-story house instead. As a treat. Also, here is Hob's car, for the curious

And listen, I don't imagine that most classic car enthusiasts would appreciate sexual fluids all over their paintjobs but this is Hob and I have to believe he'll cheerfully wash the thing every day if it means hot sex on the hood with Dream. Catch me googling whether vaginal fluid is acidic enough to damage clear coat and not finding an answer, shh

[a-gay-little-cat]

(This drawing got way out of hand but. I'm attaching it to the OC interview anyways!!!! Thank you for tagging me @mail-me-a-snail!!!!) OC interview thingy under the read more :]

Name?

“Vito.” Nothing special or out of the ordinary here really. Though he doesn’t like giving people his surname. Scan him for it if you are so nosy.

Nickname?

“The Red Scorpion.” "...." “That’s a joke, it’s V.” His name is short enough to not warrant a nickname really but V is what he likes to use for business related stuff, keep it formal, keep it anonymous. Though I do think Red Scorpion is the name for his bike. And also the symbol he wears on his vest. He just really likes scorpions and any other desert critter.

Gender?

“Male.”

Vito is trans, has been for a good chunk of his life and he couldn’t be happier with it.

Star sign?

“Scorpio, much to my delight. No idea what it means though. Don’t really care for that kind of stuff.” Fun fact I was so close to making the joke of having Vito be born on the day the Arasaka Towers got blown up but then his age wouldn’t have aligned quite right. He’d have to be 53 during the main story but… still a joke in the back of my mind, might adjust it JUST to be funny, maybe not.

Height?

“Last I checked it was 5’8.”

It’s a pretty good height all things considered. He might appear a bit taller though thanks to the bit of heel on his boots as well as his hat he wears most of the time. He has no complaints about his height though.

Orientation?

“Whoever strikes my fancy.”

Vito is bi and doesn’t really have a preference. Just kinda lets himself be taken wherever his heart desires. (Sometimes that can be horrible ex-corpo men who have something really wrong with them. Shoutout to Lucian. What is wrong with him.) Though he usually doesn’t look for more than a fling. Not actively looking to date or find anything long term. (Lucian was kind of an unexpected case.)

Nationality/ethnicity?

“Born and raised in Mexico. Lived there a good while too.”

His parents likely still live there, he wouldn’t really know. Cut ties a long time ago and has kinda moved from city to city looking to follow his ambitions.

Favorite fruit?

“Hm… don’t have fruit a lot these days but peaches have always been my favorite.”

I can only imagine fruit is just kind of rare to come by, if not expensive. Vito’s never had a lot of money to his name all things considered.

Favorite season?

“Fall. It’s just right.”

Listen he may be used to hot climates but all that leather is probably a nightmare during the summer. And no he will not sacrifice his looks.

Favorite flower?

“Flowers? In this year and age?” He doesn’t know shit about flowers. He might like ones that bloom on cacti but… it’s not really his scene.

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?

“You can’t go wrong with a nice tea.” He’ll always pick tea over anything else. Coffee is… okay. But he doesn’t get the appeal. Vito especially likes any sort of red/fruity tea but he’ll give anything a try at least once.

Average hours of sleep?

“4…. 5… depends.”

And that’s on a good day. Especially in the height of everything with the relic he is lucky to get one or two hours of sleep. Pain is one hell of a bitch keeping him up. Very hard to get comfortable at all. But once that’s all over and he’s settled down it’ll probably end up closer to an average of 8 hours, at least.

Dog or cat person?

“Reptiles.” “...” “But if I have to pick? Cats.”

Vito isn’t one to really care for pets. He doesn’t hate them and will pet a dog or a cat if someone he knows owns one but that's about it. Doesn’t really need a pet of his own.

Dream trip?

“Not really looking to travel.”

As a guy who has moved from place to place, Vito doesn’t really… plan for trips. Most of his traveling was out of necessity and not because he was looking for a vacation spot. Somewhere outside of NC could be nice but he just doesn’t really think about it. Busy with other stuff. Also he would want to travel with Lucian and well……. who knows how that would go down.

Favorite fictional character?

“Pardon?”

Vito reads a lot but he’s not like… crazy about the characters or even really involved, it's just to pass time and relax.

Number of blankets you sleep with?

“.....2.”

He gets cold in his sleep and it's a nice weight. One hell of a fight to get out of bed in the morning though.

Random fact?

Vito loves putting together little models of things if possible. Doesn’t always have the time for it but… it’s fun and relaxing :)

Don't really know who to tag but hey whoever wants to do this with their guys feel free to go ahead!

[talesfromsiteredacted]

Final Exam: Task Failed Successfully

After a full year of having Foundation doctrine drilled into my head, my accident in 914, training with Abel, and dealing with a metric fuckload of general what the actual and conceptual fuck is THAT?.. My last test is here. It could have gone better, I admit. Still... I passed.

I'm in the middle of a humid tropical climate, on my final exam to become a full MTF Agent. I've got next to nothing, aside from a gun, two full canteens of water, a stun knife I smuggled in my bra, my own abilities and training, and a GPS with marked coordinates I need to get to. I've got to go investigate some anomalous activity in the area, roughly 5 kilometers due east. I've got no idea what I'm looking for, all Dr. Clef would tell me is I'd know what I'm looking at when I see it. So, first part is a hike in hot and rough terrain. I get on with it. Who knows how much daylight I have left. I just hope I'm prepared enough. I heard failing this test gets you worse than a mere 'F' on the ol' report card, unless 'F' means 'Fatality'. Yikes. No pressure, I got this. Until I start hearing something behind me. I panic slightly, and dash ahead.

Crap. Dead end, with a drop. Oh... not so bad, there's water, and it's only 10 meters down. Better an unexpected swim over an unexpected death. I take a few steps back, and jump for it. I hit the water, and if I weren't focused on finding the shore, I'd probably enjoy a swim here. Sure, the water is a little choppy, but it's not really cold, kinda refreshing. Focus, Rabbit. Not drowning is the thing. Swim now, plan vacations later.

I reach the shore, and find a small clearing in the brush nearby. There's a cliff wall toward the back, with a cave. I check my GPS... ah, I'm here. Fine, in I go. The funk is so strong it's covering me like a funeral shroud mixed with shrink wrap. Not even a barrage of 682's infamous building clearing chili farts can compete. I'm going to need a bigger hot water tank for my shower, I just know it. It's dark, but not a problem for me, I just light my right hand on fire and use it as a torch. Gotta love being an anomaly, the extra weirdness has its advantages. Like pyromancy on command.

Ugh. I see the place is decorated by Shelob of Mordor, there's spiderwebbing all over. Yet I see no spiders, hear no spiders... just the occasional dried husk of whatever here or there. Iris would hate this place, spider anything is not her jam. The cave goes further back. I burn some of the webs away from me as I pass.

I fail to see the hole in the ground beneath me, and take a painful but short slide further down into the cave. My hand goes out as I fall. I land on something... distressingly squishy. It did crunch as I landed, so whatever I landed in, it had something holding it together. I reignite my light source, and wish I hadn't. I'm covered in giant spider goo, and I see a leg tumble off my hair. But... the spider is dead. No way it couldn't be, alive things have more body. I reach for my now missing canteens. Figures. Lost them on the way down. I check for my stuff, I'm down to just my smuggled stun knife. Wonderful, that's annoying but I'll manage. Gonna have to, sounds like there's another one coming toward me. I pull out my knife and get ready. Eight eyes, like malevolent garnets, turn to me. I freeze, then *it* freezes.

Suddenly, the whole cave is flooded with light, bright, totally artificial white light. Dr. Clef steps into the cave, followed by Abel himself. They're both clapping.

"Well done, Little Sister! I told Dr. Clef you would prevail, no matter the odds." Abel almost cracks my ribs, he's hugging me so tightly.

"Well, she did skip the smaller spiders, but the main breeding pair is toast. I'd say catch the little ones, and call it a day."

"You knew these damned things were there, but sent me in blind?"

"We knew you'd be fine. After all... Abel trained you."

"Okay. Task failed successfully. Can I please get the goo off me?"

"Abel, escort our newest agent to the MTF showers."

"You mean those ridiculous portable devices? If you insist. Then, we will celebrate with pizza."

[cavalierious-whim]

A strange cold front blows through Liyue, taking with it the temperate climate, blue skies, and warm sun. 

It’s a dreary, gray day. Frost nips at their noses, turning them pink like flower blossoms. The morning dew still clings to leaves, icy droplets caught in suspension like twinkling teardrops. Childe takes a deep breath, the cold air burning his lungs in a way he thought he might’ve forgotten. 

Zhongli doesn’t mind the cold—or so he claims. He’s still bundled to the nines and lingering on the porch underneath the awning. 

Childe loves the biting cold. The crisp, clear air reminds him of the holiday. He can just imagine the forest filled with fir trees. The sharp smell of pine and how tree needles litter the ground. Holly branches, hot chocolate, and wrapping up presents by the fire.

It isn’t that it doesn’t feel like Yuletide in Liyue, but there are things that he misses about Snezhnaya that sing with the sound of the holiday. 

Zhongli knows, of course. He leans there against the open frame of their home, arms crossed and hands shoved into his jacket. He watches Childe with a soft, but calculating look, those age-old, golden eyes roaming his frame. 

Childe grins. “Are you going to stay inside?”

“I’m not inside.”

He’s straddling the edge of technicality. Childe’s grin melts into something smug. “You’re not outside, either. Is it too cold for you, old lizard?”

Zhongli huffs, offended. “I’m not too cold—but it certainly isn’t my favorite. I prefer the sunshine.”

“Because you like to bask in it.”

“Well, you did call me a lizard, which is not entirely incorrect. I’m also—”

“You’re a million things. You’re nothing at all. You’re just… you?”

Zhongli falls quiet as he considers this, his gaze thoughtful. “An oversimplification of eons of identity.”

“Does it matter?” asks Childe, the question genuine as it rolls off his tongue.

“No, I suppose not.”

Childe turns to tease him but then stops dead. His eyes widen, a grin easing across his face. “Hey! It’s—”

Snow. Pearly white fluff that drifts through the air. It won’t stick—isn’t cold enough for it to pile up—but it’s enough to twirl around and imagine that it’s the beginnings of a winter wonderland. Childe feels like a kid. Even this past year, he was too busy with work to properly enjoy something like this. 

“Ajax,” says Zhongli, finally having left the porch. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“I will not. I’ve been lost in snow drifts taller than you. This is nothing.”

“All the same.” Zhongli loops something warm and fuzzy around Childe’s neck, pulling it tight. Red wool, thick-ply, smelling of sage and earth. 

Childe blinks as he presses his nose into it, inhaling deeply. “Hey, this is mine.” Only it carries Zhongli’s scent now. “I left this…” Right before the revelation of who Zhongli was. In the midst of the sting of betrayal, Childe forgot he’d left this at Zhongli’s home. 

“I kept it.” He tucks the edges in, ice-cold fingers biting into Childe’s neck. “I—well, it’s yours. At the time, it was all I had of you.”

Childe tugs the scarf from his neck, which makes Zhongli grunt, dissatisfied. But then he loops it around both their necks, loose and warm, tucking the ends back in, and Zhongli sighs softly, his gaze warming into something fond. 

Zhongli dips close and kisses him. It’s sweet, lingering, nothing particularly passionate but it feels like it is with the snow as their backdrop. Soft lips; warm breaths; foreheads pressed together as they spin around chasing snowflakes—

The warmer winter season is worth it if it means spending it with Zhongli. 

[dabiplier]

Ok, no shut up. Weather nerd, and let me explain this properly.

The scary thing about climate change is we don't know. All we have theories/model outputs/guesses. A good example is the USA was expected to have a horrible Hurricane weather due to warmer sea surface (Hurricanes need heat + moisture so that makes sense) but what we didn't expect, was the horribly dry conditions in Europe actually having an effect on the tropics, and absorbing so much of the moisture in the air. Add some nicely placed wind shear to tear apart the hurricane if it does get any closer, (random event that happens sometimes) so that if a hurricane was strong enough to maintain it's own moisture, it would get whipped apart by the wind. (Hurricanes are big babies when it comes to opposing wind force), while we have had several named hurricanes this season they couldn't come close to the USA most of the time. Why is this important?

Saying the "Ice melting means the polar vortex is falling apart" IS A POSSIBILITY ONLY. IT IS NOT EVEN A SCIENTIFIC THEORY, MODELS DO NOT AGREE WHAT THE ICE MELTING IS DOING TO OUR WEATHER. So far, the ice melting IS USED AS WARNING SIGNAL THAT THINGS ARE NOT OK and nothing more. (At least in terms of climate, it has effects on other things on our planet)

  And most importantly, Tropospheric polar vortex, (labeled as the 'polar vortex' in the graph above) tries to knock around the stratospheric polar vortex (A little above where the 'Polar Jet Stream' is labeled) and very little happens. In fact, only 1/3rd of sudden stratospheric warming events (which is the event being shown in 2nd part of the graph, and what is causing our unusual artic weather) are caused by the Tropospheric vortex bumping it. Now here where the potential effects of climate change is actually a factor, atmospheric Rossby waves (waves that often happen due to the earth rotating) if they can gather enough strength, (usually fed by different high pressure and low pressure systems) they can actually have the strength to run up north and knock the stratospheric polar vortex (the one on the outside) more often, causing SSW events. (I could go on a rant about Rossby waves and their patterns, but this is long enough.) These last two SSWs were caused by Rossby waves. So how does climate change relate to Rosbby waves? Hot water baby. (Which, can cause the artic ice to melt, see where I'm getting at?)

Remember when I said Rossby waves can be influenced by high and low pressure systems? Water temperature can influences high pressures and low pressures drastically. (As I mentioned in paragraph above about hurricanes about how much heat and moisture is needed) Why is this important to understand? Because you then get assholes who want to spend millions of dollar to "bring ice to the artic" to fix everything. That's like when you take medicine to stop coughing, but it doesn't stop you being sick in the first place.

Climate change is a very complex issue that is still very early in it's development. There are too many factors in our weather to say it in just one sentence. Please, if you're interested in stuff like this, do your own research. NOAA (The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) has almost all their research for free online, we need a better understanding of what is going on before we can think of a solution.

So many people do not understand the relationship between climate change and cold weather.

[saiwriting]

On Being Adjustable

by s.k.soublet

Fall fashion teaches me an essential lesson every year that I always seem to forget and take advantage of in the summer: creativity. There is a tight balance between finding personal style and still being warm enough to survive the colder months here in the Northern Hemisphere (and the much colder east coast of the United States). This morning, I read an article by Harper’s Bazaar titled “How to Master Layering Clothes This Fall- Shop 9 Outfit Ideas: Easy as 1,2,3,” and I thought it was interesting because I was just having a conversation with my best friend about how she hates the winter because she prioritizes being warm and suffering through the cold instead of dressing how she wants. Initially, the more judgmental side of myself questioned why her ideal of fashion was so limited to a warmer climate for the sake of minimal clothes and why we had perpetuated this idea that looking hot only entailed wearing the least amount of clothes possible. Then, I guess taking it more internally past judgment and into a more introspective look at my own character and who I was as a person, I realized that I think Autumn is the epitome of sexiness and creativity.

 Yesterday, I was thinking through the process of something I had wanted to do for a while: catalog all of my wardrobe into a digital format so that I can play dress up with myself every morning, evening, and night. Having a wider view of everything in my closet seems as though it would provide me much more opportunities to get creative with what I have and enables me to have a better view of the things I am in need of to supplement the sense of style that I want. Within the Harper’s Bazaar article, each outfit had its own level of chique that surpassed the simple sundresses of the Summer. And they came with no less than 2 or 3 layers and basics each. 

With the increased trend of muddying the lines between Men’s and Women’s fashion, the blazer has taken the clean girl aesthetic world by storm. In turn, higher fashion brands and shows have capitalized on this trend and the versatility and structure it provides to an Autumnal assemblance. Personally, will I be participating in the blazer trend? Not that I can think of at the moment, but I am for surely going to implement some of the stylistic principles mentioned in the article such as the importance of having mutational basics that seemingly change with every layer, the science of the oversized outer item, and the unabashed choice of a casual to not-so-casual heel no matter the type of energy worn up top. 

Going into this season, fashion is becoming more serious to me both as a means of personal creative expression and a mastering of skill, and even though all of the items recommended by Harper’s Bazaar are out of my price range at the moment but not for long, it does nothing but encourage me further to exercise parts of my brain that thrive in delving into a challenge. 

This autumn, I encourage you to step out of your comfort zone with the way you externally present yourself. Get innovative, risky, and conversational with fashion and watch how it seeps into other areas of your life to promote authenticity and a flexible mind.

[erimeows]

Iris

Mitsuhide is elated after he, Gracia, and Nobunaga manage to win the battle against Spectra by themselves. Admittedly, Nō’s army wasn’t all that big nor all that powerful against Mitsuhide’s Lapras, Nobunaga’s Hydreigon, and Gracia’s Munna, but the fact that the battle went as smoothly as it did has been a relief. Even better, Nobunaga has somehow recruited Lady Nō and her Junior Warlord Okuni to join their army.

Things are peaceful. In a couple days, they’ll travel back to Nixtorm to prepare for an invasion of Valora. For now, however, they decide to rest.

It’s a cold night in Spectra as Mitsuhide sits on the edge of an icy lake, Lapras contentedly swimming a few feet in front of him. He’d rather be inside underneath a flurry of warm blankets, but this is Lapras’s ideal environment, and considering that she’s the only reason he’s been able to make it this far in his career, Mitsuhide is willing to give her everything she wants- even if it means that he’ll be stuck in the freezing climate for another hour or two. 

The Warlord feels an itch climb up his throat, so he coughs and finds himself unsurprised when the result is a chunk of bloody blue flower petals in the palm of his glove. Sighing, he wipes the evidence of his unrequited love on the snow and groans in frustration. Just then, he hears the sound of military boots crunching in the snow. He looks over his shoulder to see Nobunaga coming his way, so he covers the blood-stained snow with his feet and tries to look as casual as he possibly can.

“What ails you, Mitsuhide?” Nobunaga asks as he stands next to the older man with his arms crossed.

“My Lord,” Mitsuhide greets, still sitting on the ground. He hates lying, especially to Nobunaga, but he knows that’s what he has to do. After all, Nobunaga is the object of his affections, the reason he’s had Hanahaki disease for over five years now. Nobunaga surely can’t love him back, he’s too powerful, too talented, too intelligent to want someone as peaceful and as simple-minded as Mitsuhide. So, Mitsuhide thinks it better not to say anything. Eventually, the Hanahaki will kill him, and he’ll take his secret to his grave. “It’s nothing. What are you doing here? It’s too cold for you to be out in this.”

“Could say the same to you,” Nobunaga retorts with a shrug. “Also, call me Nobunaga. The ‘lord’ is getting tiring. As my best friend, you’re allowed to call Nobunaga by his name.”

“Lapras was wanting some attention.”

Suddenly, Nobunaga kneels down in the snow and takes his glove off. Mitsuhide’s brow furrows in confusion before the ravenette reaches forward and places his palm against Mitsuhide’s forehead to check his temperature. 

“...Are you ill?”

“What?”

“Your face is red,” Nobunaga explains with a suspicious expression. “And hot… On top of your cough from earlier.”

“Oh, it’s just from the cold. Don’t pay me any mind. You should get inside before you freeze out here.” 

“F-Fine…”

Nobunaga gets quiet after that- quiet enough for Mitsuhide to be concerned. He glances over, only to see the younger man losing his footing and falling backwards.

“My Lord, are you alright?” Mitsuhide’s deep blue eyes go wide as he rushes forward to catch Nobunaga in his arms. Thankfully, he does so just in time to keep Nobunaga from seriously injuring himself on the ground. With one hand under Nobunaga’s back and the other under Nobunaga’s knees, Mitsuhide raises his voice. “My Lord! Hey, wake up!”

To his utter dismay, Nobunaga doesn’t wake up. Mitsuhide checks to make sure that he’s at least breathing, and his pulse seems normal, so he stands with Nobunaga in his arms and rushes into the castle of Spectra. The first person he encounters is Ranmaru, who looks absolutely shattered the second he sees Nobunaga unconscious. 

“Lord Mitsuhide!” Ranmaru runs up to them, his eyes snapping between Nobunaga’s sleeping form and Mitsuhide’s concerned expression. “What happened?”

“I don’t- I don’t know, I just- We were standing out by the lake talking, and one minute he was fine, then the next he fell unconscious… Thankfully, I caught him before he could hit the ground. He didn’t sustain any head injuries and he’s breathing fine, his heart is beating, but…”

“I’ll call a nurse,” Ranmaru, always the first to come up with a plan in dire situations, rushes down the other end of the hallway- probably to go find one of Nō’s nurses. “Get him into a bed, please.”

So, he does.

~

A few hours later, everything is settled. Nobunaga is alive and safe, tucked into a warm bed in the castle of Spectra. The nurses found that his body was full of blue rose petals, which they had to help the dragon Warlord cough up manually once he awoke. It was unsightly, something that Mitsuhide wishes to never see again. What bothers him more than the scary reality of seeing his best friend- boss- love of his life- almost die is the fact that the only thing this could mean is that Nobunaga has Hanahaki disease just like he does.

But for who…?

Mitsuhide is sitting by Nobunaga’s bedside, a hand on the ravenette’s forehead to push back the long strands of ebony hair. Nobunaga looks a lot calmer now, and his breathing sounds better, too. Ranmaru is asleep on the carpeted floor by the end of the bed, determined to see Nobunaga as soon as he wakes despite Mitsuhide telling him to go sleep in his room for the night.

“Lord Nobunaga-”

“For the love of all that is good, stop using that title!” Nobunaga suddenly snaps, earning a flustered and awkward whisper of a response from his friend and comrade.

“What would you rather I call you instead, My Lo- I mean, er…”

“Nobunaga,” The ravenette answers and leans back in bed. He looks like a wreck, but he’s more conscious and far less pale than he was earlier, so Mitsuhide is relieved. For now, everything that Spectra’s nurses did to get him stable should relieve his symptoms. “Just call me Nobunaga.”

“Alright… Nobunaga,” Mitsuhide sighs. The name without the title still feels so foreign, he almost can’t stand it. But to think of a world where they can continue referring to each other in a way that’s so familiar… It’s comforting. “Are you alright?”

Nobunaga doesn’t answer, instead skeptically looking around and asking-

“Where’s the nurse?”

“I sent her away. I’m more than capable of taking care of you.”

“Why bother? The nurse is on site for a reason,” Nobunaga lowly scolds. Mitsuhide shifts uncomfortably in his chair and stares down into his lap. Nobunaga is right, he knows that. Unfortunately, he also knows that he’d be too worried about Nobunaga to sleep considering the new and unfortunate revelation regarding the younger man’s declining health. “You should be in bed. We have to venture back to Nixtorm in a couple days.”

“Nothing is ever a bother if it’s for you, I just… Wanted to make sure you were alright. I don’t trust anyone else with your care… That and I wanted to have a discussion with you when you woke up.”

“About?”

“Your… Condition,” Mitsuide says, then swallows nervously. Nobunaga hasn’t been awake, so no one has been able to tell him. Then again, for Hanahaki to progress to such a severe case without the afflicted noticing is rare. Mitsuhide suspects that with how calm Nobunaga was upon waking up mixed with that information, he already knows what’s wrong with him and has been intentionally hiding it from those around him. “It’s Hanahaki disease, that much is apparent. For it to have gotten this far, you must have let it progress for a long time.”

“And?”

“So you did know… Lord Nobunaga-” Mitsuhide cuts himself off to correct his phrasing before continuing with a gloved hand placed on his chin. “I mean, Nobunaga… Your health is vital if we are to succeed in our quest to conquer Ransei. It may not be my place to tell you this, but you must not neglect yourself. Whoever it is that you’ve fallen for is surely less important than your dream.”

“You don’t have any idea,” Nobunaga spits and crosses his arms tightly over his chest.

“I don’t. You’re right. I don’t know who you’re in love with or why you’ve chosen to hide your ailment from me for so long,” Mitsuhide admits and reaches forward to place a hand on one of Nobunaga’s legs. The other Warlord’s eyes widen at the tender, affectionate, comforting gesture, and to Mitsuhide’s surprise, he isn’t pushed away. “But you can help me understand… Either that or you can push me away and we can forget that this ever happened. It’s your choice.”

“Very well, Mitsuhide. What do you want to know?”

“How long have you been displaying symptoms for?”

“Some months.”

“What exactly is your reasoning for not seeking treatment?”

“Mitsuhide… If you found the love of your life, would you go through something that’d make you forget everything about them?” Mitsuhide wants to say that he would. He wants to say that the logical thing would be to get the surgery to get the disease removed, even if it would result in him forgetting this person he loves so much. He wants to say that being there for your family and friends is much more important than some person who doesn’t love you back. But he can’t, because he’s going through the same thing, and he understands. “How you met, how you fell in love… Every fond memory, every touch, every late night conversation. Would you be willing to get rid of it all for the sake of merely surviving instead of living?”

Mitsuhide shakes his head.

“No, I suppose I wouldn’t, but-”

“Do not even start with me about this. You wouldn’t do it either, end of story. It’s not fair for you to try to influence my decision.”

Mitsuhide changes the subject.

“Who is it?”

“Can’t say.”

“You can’t be serious. Nobunaga, I’ve been loyal to you for years now. You know I’d take that secret to my grave, no matter who it is that you love.”

“That’s not the issue. You wouldn’t tell anyone; that much is obvious, but that’s not new information.”

“Then why won’t you tell me?”

“Can’t tell you that either. You can’t put yourself in my shoes.”

“But I can,” Mitsuhide insists. He doesn’t want to worry Nobunaga or confess the truth about his own condition, but if it’ll take him one step closer to making his friend get help, he’ll have to do it anyway. “I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but… I’m sick, too… With Hanahaki, that is. I’ve been sick for five years.”

“Five years,” Nobunaga gasps. “How are you alive?”

“The cold climate of the northern kingdoms curbs the growth of the flowers in my lungs, according to my doctor. Since I don’t travel south very much, my symptoms have remained inconsequential to my health. You, on the other hand…”

“Don’t rub it in my face,” Nobunaga finishes for the older man, well aware that him traveling to warmer climates for battles as frequently as he does is making his Hanahaki disease even worse. “Don’t take it the wrong way either. It’s good that your health is fair. I’m… Happy.”

“Nobunaga…”

“See yourself out, Mitsuhide. You should rest.”

“Very well,” Mitsuhide stands, ignoring every part of his body that screams at him to stay by Nobunaga’s side. Then, he heads for the door to leave, but not before turning to face his bedridden friend to say- “Please, call on me if you need anything. I’ll be just across the hall.”

~~

Two days pass. Mitsuhide and Nobunaga don’t see each other very much. Even with Mitsuhide stopping by Nobunaga’s room at Spectra castle to check on him multiple times a day, Nobunaga consistently shuts him out. Mitsuhide supposes he understands- he’s been doing the same since he got his own diagnosis, which has his throat sore and his chest burning as they ride together in the carriage back to Nixtorm. Gracia sits next to Mitsuhide with her head on his shoulder while Nobunaga sits across from them. Ranmaru, Okumi, and Nō are traveling in another carriage a few yards behind them. Both vehicles are being pulled along by large ice type Pokemon who thrive in the climates.

“Mitsuhide, you look a wreck,” Nobunaga points out as they start their journey back to Mitsuhide and Gracia’s home. Were it not for Mitsuhide’s knowledge of his condition, he wouldn’t be aware of it at all. Nobunaga looks just fine, perfectly groomed and composed as he sits with his arms crossed. But Mitsuhide does know the truth. He’s dying, and so is Nobunaga. “Did you not sleep last night?”

“You expect me to be able to rest after what happened the other night?” Mitsuhide retorts with a roll of his dark blue eyes. “Please, My Lord-”

“Nobunaga-” Nobunaga corrects yet again.

“Do you seriously want me to refer to you without your title in the presence of others?” Mitsuhide demands, referencing his daughter Gracia, who looks incredibly confused as she rides with them and holds her Gothita close to her chest.

“Clearly.”

“Fine, then, Nobunaga,” Mitsuhide lightly tosses his gloved hands up in defeat. “You are in no condition to be waging battles right now. As your comrade and as your friend, I can’t help but be worried sick about you.”

“Is that all we are? Friends? Comrades?”

“Wh… What?” Mitsuhide mutters, dumbfounded.

Could Nobunaga possibly…?

Just as hope starts to flicker up in his iris-filled chest, Nobunaga snatches it away with his following words.

“Never mind. Just know that you shouldn’t worry,” Nobunaga shrugs. “It’s as you said, you’re in no condition to be traveling south either.”

“Father? What does he mean by that?” Gracia questions with a worried edge to her high-pitched voice as she pulls at the sleeve of Mitsuhide’s coat and looks between the men with her big green eyes. “What are you two talking about?”

“Don’t worry about it, Gracia,” Mitsuhide smiles reassuringly and ruffles his daughter’s hair. At that, the redhead smiles up at him. He feels bad for lying… But it’ll have to do. She’d be heartbroken if she knew what he was allowing to happen to his body for the sake of not losing the memories of his love for Nobunaga. “There’s a cold going around, but we’re fine, just somewhat under the weather. That’s all we’re talking about.”

“Ah, okay, then!”

With that, Gracia goes back to resting her head on his shoulder. It’s silent for a bit, at least until soft snores from her end signal that she’s fallen asleep. Mitsuhide wraps an arm over her to keep her secure as she catches up on the rest she’s been missing since leaving Nixtorm to invade Spectra.

Suddenly, Nobunaga speaks again.

“Are you seriously telling me your own daughter doesn’t know about your condition?”

“Why would she? That’s the last thing she needs to worry about right now. Plus, I’m fine.”

“It’s going to kill both of us. The options we’ve been provided are to die or to get the surgery done,” Nobunaga plainly states. “It’s just hard to believe that you’re willing to roll over and die so easily. How great is this person who refuses to return your affections, Mitsuhide? Who could they possibly be?”

“I’m sure you’d laugh if I were to tell you,” Mitsuhide says with a small chuckle, anxiety bubbling within him.

Why does Nobunaga care? Unless…?

“So it’s someone we both know?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Is it Lady Nō?” Nobunaga starts to guess, much to Mitsuhide’s dismay.

Mitsuhide shakes his head with a bittersweet smile.

“Absolutely not.”

“Oichi?”

Mitsuhide laughs at the idea of being in love with Nobunaga’s little sister. Somehow, the idea is even worse than being in love with Nobunaga himself.

“I think you’d kill me if it were.”

“Is it yours truly?”

Mitsuhide’s stomach drops, but he can’t lie either. So, he nods and replies with a question of his own, unable to meet his love’s gaze.

“...I’m that obvious, hm?”

Nobunaga stares at him with an unreadable expression, his eyes dark and wide. A heavy blush consumes his otherwise tan cheeks as he struggles to come up with words. Mitsuhide watches with fear of what’s to come. Will Nobunaga be angry? Amused? How will he respond? It’s only been seconds since he confessed the truth. Yet, he already regrets it.

“It was a joke,” Nobunaga explains.

“O-Oh… Oh no,” Mitsuhide covers his embarrassed face with one hand and avoids Nobunaga’s prying gaze as much as he can. “I didn’t realize you were joking…”

“Heh, Mitsuhide,” Nobunaga laughs at him shamelessly while shaking his head. Mitsuhide feels humiliated. He can’t tell what the hell Nobunaga is thinking right now. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Look, I know you don’t reciprocate, but you don’t have to laugh at me either…”

“Come to my room at your castle when the clock strikes midnight. We’ll talk then.”

At that, Mitsuhide blinks. Hope springs up in his chest again. He coughs and covers it with his hand, unsurprised to find the familiar blue petals of the irises he’s grown accustomed to living within him for the last five years. Then, he responds.

“Okay…?”

~~~

They arrive at Nixtorm in the early evening and quickly get settled with each of the Warlords and their Junior Warlords making themselves comfortable within the protective confines of Mitsuhide’s well-built ice castle. Thankfully, everything goes smoothly enough that Mitsuhide has nothing but his personal strife to worry about up until the clock hits midnight.

He goes to the room that Nobunaga sleeps in when he’s in his kingdom, which is right next to Mitsuhide’s own. The blue-haired man knocks on the door and speaks.

“Nobunaga, may I come in?”

“You may,” Nobunaga calls out from the other side, so Mitsuhide twists the knob to find it unlocked.

He walks into the room and shuts the door behind him. He thinks of locking it, but doesn’t want to imply anything more inappropriate than this meeting and this intimacy- than his feelings and his confession from that morning- already are.

“Thank you.”

“What do you have to say to me?”

Nobunaga stands in the middle of the room with crossed arms. Mitsuhide leans his back against the door and clears his throat. He expected a confrontation, maybe a rejection, maybe an acceptance of his feelings, but not to be asked to come clean right off the bat. He’s been dreading this all day, so he clears his throat and quickly tries to get it over with. Maybe if Nobunaga rejects him cruelly enough, his Hanahaki will finally kill him once and for all. Or, maybe, if Nobunaga accepts his feelings, his Hanahaki will finally go away.

“I thought you were going to talk to me, but if I must start… I apologize for what happened earlier. I understand that the feelings I have for you are completely unprofessional and that you probably don’t want anything to do with me.”

“Tch,” Nobunaga takes a few steps forward to stand in front of Mitsuhide, far too close to him. He leans forward and towers over the ice Warlord. One of his hands is on either side of Mitsuhide’s head, pinning him to the door. “You’re a coward, Mitsuhide.”

“Like you’re any better?” Mitsuhide gulps. He wants to put his hands somewhere, but he doesn’t know what to do with them, so he awkwardly rests the palms of them against Nobunaga’s clothed chest. “You haven’t told the truth to whoever it is you’re in love with from what I can tell.”

“It’s you,” Nobunaga says, like it’s simple. Surprisingly, it sounds genuine. Mitsuhide gasps. “It’s been you… It’ll always be you.”

Nobunaga reaches for his hands and intertwines their fingers in silent comfort.

“My Lord… Nobunaga…” Mitsuhide looks up to meet his friend’s eyes. Dark blue burns into charcoal. “You don’t have to lie to me. Lying won’t cure my ailment. I don’t mind dying if it’s for you, truly.”

“None of what has been said has been a lie, Mitsuhide.”

Mitsuhide lets out a sigh of relief and gently squeezes Nobunaga’s hands. They’re much warmer than his own. 

“So we’ll both be alright?”

“It seems so,” Nobunaga nods. “Yeah.”

“Nobunaga…” Mitsuhide trails off.

He doesn’t know what to say. It doesn’t even feel real, the relief that floods him. Neither of them are going to die. Nobunaga returns his feelings, and Mitsuhide returns Nobunaga’s. 

Nobunaga, on the other hand, seems to know exactly what to say- just like he always does.

“Kiss me.”

And, just like he always does, Mitsuhide listens.

[queen-mihai]

Honestly I hate extremes in all directions.

As a sexual being, yeah there's a part of me that wants at least some people to think I'm hot

But as a HUMAN being, there is a real, genuine reason why when you look at my blog it's mostly political opinions, business talk, and "trust me, I'm an engineer". Like "homey, let's get this right: I'm a person FIRST. You think I'm hot? Great. That'll give you even more reason to tune in and listen to what I've got to say."

I've said it before: the sapio part of sapiosapphic for me is REAL. I don't know if I've mentioned my genitals specifically once in a single post on this blog. I've talked about being a slut. I've mentioned having certain types of memories which are nice, but for the most part I don't even go into all that much detail about myself.

Part of this is because of exactly what you're saying. People fall right into the bigots' trap when they talk like trans people and specifically trans women are mostly just sex objects. If that's what you want to be, fine. But please don't let that be the only image for the whole community.

I'm a trans woman engineer and author. I am using my mind and my body to put a dent in climate change. I use that same mind and body to entertain and inspire through my writing. I can affect thousands of lives through my writing and millions through my engineering. There's only a few people on this earth who will know what it feels like to be in bed with me, if we happen to be lucky enough to be near each other IRL. And fair warning: there's a LOT more to my personality that I can't spell out here because all I've got here is words.

I'm also a kickass cook

I'm also a decent dancer

I'm a fantastic kisser

I'm way more outgoing than even what I seem like online

I give really great hugs

I almost never sit down. Even people who "never sit down" usually have to realize how much I "never sit down"

I get to know people fast.

I'm always always always ALWAYS paying attention around me. That is not something that's easily portrayed online, but to the few people who will ever meet me in person: no, I don't know that person I just waved at. I just saw them staring. No, there's nothing wrong with you. I just saw someone trip and fall behind you and I got concerned when it took a bit too long for someone to help.

I have ADHD. Yes, I still heard what you said and will continue the conversation uninterrupted. The only time it becomes a problem is when i haven't taken my meds, and I try to stay on top of doing that. How do I get so much done? I refer you back to "I never sit down"

I'm way more than a set of genitals. I'm delighted if I turn you on. But one of my missions in life is to make sure people RESPECT the LGBTQIA+ community. If that means I don't get to be a simple slutty girl who just enjoys being used, then so be it. I'll do my best to pave the way for people who come behind me so they can have things easier and better than me. If I can solve a problem nobody else can solve, then nobody else needs to be there to solve it. And once people see "pretty trans girl" and immediately think "probably a badass engineer"? Then hopefully it'll be easier for others to live a bit more simply and have more fun while being respected all the same

Debated even making a post about this, but it really sucks that the oversexulization of trans women is treated like online micro-discourse. Transfeminity being seen purely as sexual is the basis fueling a HUGE percentage of the transphobia sweeping through the US and UK. Behind almost every single bathroom bill and legislation defining being trans as obscene is a politician saying something akin to “we need to protect womens spaces from dangerous biological males who will sneak in and sexually assault them.” People automatically assuming trans women to be sexual predators is exactly why groomer became the go-to insult on the right.

So of course trans women on tumblr get mad when you say “why are you posting about misogyny when we could be fucking? 😋” or respond to them asking you to be normal about trans women with a “YESSS I LOVE GIRLCOCK step on me tgirls 😍” It’s perpetuating the same problem in the other direction.

[j-art-2d2]

HI IT'S ME AGAIN, i loved what you did in the other request i made! you are an amazing writer and you deserve to be recognized for it B)

may i request.. jinx x love witch reader? (maybe a modern au) like the craft but hotter

have a good day sweetieee ♡♡

thank you so much bestie youve always been so nice to me and encouraging of my writing!! <333

i think this request is so cute and sweet! i wasn’t super sure how to write this im sorry if it’s not so good. but i still hope you enjoy!

also sorry i had no idea how to make this “like the craft but hotter” so i just made reader n jinx have a little moment

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~ .~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

🔮Amor Magicae🔮

🔮the weather was hot, muggy, and dense. the sun shining seemed to cook jinx from the inside out. despite the climate, jinx still went out just for the sake of being outside. wandering around aimlessly, she wasn’t expecting anything more than slight entertainment in the form of people watching.

🔮all that changed the moment that your paths interlocked. her attention is automatically drawn to the colors swirling around in your irises. the sunlight shining in your eyes makes them resemble the wings of monarchs. jinx starts sweating. she’s not sure if it's the lack of oxygen in the Zaun or the heat. she smiles at you but doesn’t dare to make a sound, scared that if she opens up her mouth a butterfly might come flying out. she decides she can’t let you walk away.

🔮what you both call a friendship is developed. in all actuality, what develops, is a relationship of sorts. lingering fingertips and glances. accidental moments. much like two black holes, you both had no other choice but to consume each other. she floods your mind, in the same way, you flood hers.

🔮one day jinx requests something of you. a love potion. simple enough. you’re aware of the danger but you would happily do anything jinx asked you to. you expect her to pick it up and go on her way, but are presently surprised by her coming back to pick up the potion with food for the both of you. she claims to just know you haven’t had lunch yet. you joke your powers are rubbing off on her.

🔮jinx is especially jumpy while you guys eat. you drop a piece of food and watch it fall to the ground. that split second is all it takes. jinx reaches over and dumps the entire bottle into your drink, swirls it around with her pinky, and wipes the remaining droplets on her pants. the strong sweet and floral taste hits you before the flavor of your drink even does. immediately your focus is on her, while she’s looking at everything else in the room instead of at you. keeping your eyes focused on her, you down the whole glass. a silent confession.

🔮the potion was a bust. you knew it would be. to you, this means nothing. to jinx, this is reason enough to be concerned. as the hours go on she realizes there’s been no change and jinx almost seems to fold into herself. like an animal trapped between fight or flight. she can’t take it anymore, so she breaks the tension as abruptly as she knows how. next thing you know jinx has jumped up and is getting closer to your face with every word she exclaims.

🔮“What did you do!?! Why didn’t the potion work!?!”. that was enough to make you stand as well. you let out a breath while shaking your head in adornment. you put your hands on jinx’s shoulders and before she can continue on her tirade, you kiss her. it’s chaste and sweet. all you need to shut her up. jinx allows you to press your forehead against hers. the pink shade rising in her cheeks compliments her eyes in ways you can’t even describe. her heart swells while you assure her, “A potion can not create what is already there.”

**if you would like i can do a bullet point list of how i think jinx would be w a regular witch s/o not just specifically a love witch, because that was kind of what limited me**

[lokis-little-fawn]

Too Darn Hot

My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!

Paring: Loki x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: After your birth control runs out in Asgard, how long will it take for a little ‘accident’ to happen (idk my brains not working, this is an awful summary but I promise the fic is good)

Original request by anon: Loki+breeding kink. He sees you in one of those flowy little white dresses and immediately thinks of how good you’d look ‘with child’ as he’d say 😂😭. You know this man just goes crazy when he sees himself when he’s that deep, and can’t help saying how he’s going to keep you in bed all night until he’s sure there’s no chance you won’t be pregnant by morning 👀👀 (even if it is just fantasy)

Writers note: thank you so much for your request! I hope it’s breeding kinky enough for you because it’s like 90% smut 😂💚

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), breeding kink

Hot. It was just too damn hot and I’m not talking earth in July hot, this was another worldly level of heat. Sure, you’d visited warm places before on holidays but nothing could have prepared you for an Asgardian summer. The climate was an equal mix of humidity and heat, the only relief granted at night when the sun sets. Loki had been gone all day on some royal duties and seeing as you came to Asgard with a suitcase full of jumpers and trousers he kindly had some of the servants deliver you some summer dresses.

After choosing a long white flowing dress which closely resembled those of a Greek goddess, you grabbed a book and made your way into the gardens. Sitting in the shade under an umbrella you swiftly began flicking through the pages. Loosing yourself in the story you barely notice time slipping by, before you know it the sun has lowered slightly in the sky and it’s almost lunchtime.

Making your way back into the palace you pass Loki attending to his royal duties swiftly followed by Thor. Loki’s eyes linger for slightly too long, his face spread with a sly smile that you know means only one thing, trouble.

After wandering the long hallways, you make it back to your shared room and sit out on the balcony, eating your lunch mostly consisting of leafy greens and a fruit salad. Afterwards you begin reading your book once again, sitting under a shadier part of the balcony it doesn’t take long for your eyes to drop closed, falling asleep under the shade. In your sleepiness you don’t hear Loki enter, his featherlight footsteps silent on the marble floor.

“My my, don’t you look exquisite, love” he says leaning against the door frame of the balcony, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes roam unashamed over your body. In your sleep your dress must have ridden up, one part of your skirt gathered near your hip exposing one of your inner thighs.

“Mhm.. Loki?” You say in a sleepy tone, wiping the sleep from your eyes as he prowls towards you, still sitting on your chair.

“Don’t move my love, I shouldn’t have woken you. Let me make it up to you” he purrs in his deep smooth voice, even in your drowsy state that voice did something to you. Kneeling before you he pulls your ass to the edge of the chair, pushing your dress up around your hips.

“No undergarments sweet thing?” He questions as he kisses up your thighs, sounding more intrigued than anything.

“It’s too hot for unnecessary layers” you reply defensively with a small yawn, still half asleep as his kisses reach your heat.

“Oh love, I’m not complaining. Let me cool you down” he states as his cool tongue begins to trail through your folds. His icy touch like a soothing balm that you’ve longed for all day.

One of his large hands slides between your legs, his fingers teasing your entrance as his licks and sucks on your sensitive clit increase. Your head falling back against the chair as pleasure flows through your body, your breathy moans surely audible passed your secluded balcony. Your hands card through his hair, your fingers stroking through his soft obsidian tendrils as you moan under his touch. One of his hands settles on your lower stomach as he pushes his fingers inside you, watching your body react as he curls his fingers within you. With his hand pressed firmly on your stomach he stares at the spot, certain that he can feel his fingers moving within you through your stomach. His breath hitches in his throat as he watches you squirm at his movements, your face contorting with pleasure as you begin grinding lightly against his face.

Feeling your orgasm rapidly building, your hands tighten in his hair, pulling him closer to your heat as his movements quicken. His eyes still transfixed on your stomach, his hand pressing heavier onto the spot just above your uterus as he moans deeply into your heat. Bucking against his face loud moans escape your mouth as your climax washes over you, your liquid coating Loki’s face as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

“Best nap ever” you joke with a smile, as Loki kisses down your thigh once more, pulling his fingers from you.

“Oh love, I am not even close to being done with you yet” he says as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, sucking your liquid from his digits. Without warning he pulls you from the chair, flinging you over his shoulders as if you were weightless.

Reaching the bed Loki places you down against the pillows softly, quickly removing his own clothes. The sun still beating through the open balcony highlights his iridescent skin, his muscles rippling under the heat. Following you onto the bed he pulls the top of your dress down, releasing your breasts to the warm air as you sigh with relief at the fabric leaving your body. His mouth darts to the peaks of your breast, hardening under his tongue as he flicks over your nipples one at a time. Kissing further down your body he pulls the rest of your dress down, kissing down to your stomach peppering the spot where his hand had once been with kisses.

As he kisses back up your body you pull a condom out of the draw of the bedside table, quickly unwrapping it and pushing the latex down Loki’s length to the base of his cock, much to his distaste. Your birth control had run out almost a month ago, having not visited your doctors you couldn’t refill your prescription. Despite the much superior technology on Asgard, they didn’t have a pill for Midgardian pregnancies so condoms were your best option at the current time.

Lokis desperation for you unfaltering despite the interruption, biting and kissing into the soft skin of your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance, your legs widening for him as he thrusts deeply inside you. Instantly bottoming out inside you, he wastes no time letting you adjust to him as he begins to thrust harshly into you. Your moans loudly echoing off the walls as he moves within you. Once again his hand travels to your stomach, feeling himself hitting against your innermost walls. Your face spread with confusion, it’s not something he’s ever done before, why was he doing that in the first place? Whatever the reason, you were quickly pulled from your thoughts when his tongue slips into your mouth kissing you with vigour. His hand still over your stomach you feel his palm press down, hissing through his teeth as he drills into you with his quick pace.

“You’ll look so beautiful with child, my love. Your stomach plump as I fuck you, just like this” he moans out into your ear. Oh, that’s what the hand thing is about, you think to yourself, your face spread with a mix of worry and arousal as his pace quickens.

“Would I, Loki?“ you ask innocently, looking up to him with doe eyes as his hand moves to your breast.

“You would my love. Your full bosom heavy with milk, oh my sweet thing you have no idea how the thought affects me so” he moans out as his grip on your breast tightens, kissing down your neck. His pace becomes sloppy, a warning that he was close to his climax. Feeling his irregular pace, you decide to tease him more, whispering into his ear.

“You’d like to fill me with your cum, wouldn’t you Loki?” You tease, giggling into his ear, his grunts animalistic in your ear as he nods in reply.

“To see me bare your child, to show everyone I belong to you” you continue, his eyes glazed over with pure lust. You’ve done some filthy things since you’d been with Loki, but never before had you seen him so desperate for you.

“Fuck love, I have to cum inside you. I just have to” he says, pulling himself from you and ripping the condom off, immediately thrusting back inside you and coating your walls with his essence. His grunts still filling your ear as your face spreads with sudden worry as you realise you had literally lured him into this, something you had been purposely avoiding for weeks.

“Fuck, Loki?” You ask as he continues thrusting into you. “Loki I’m not on the pill anymore, I could actually be pregnant now” you continue, your face spread with worry as he continues to fuck his liquid deeper inside you.

“I know love and I won’t let you leave this bed until I am certain you are with child” he growls as he pulls one of your legs higher, ensuring nothing will escape you. With his length sheathed inside you, his still hardened cock continues moving within you again. As if he was in heat his pace is rapid immediately, the worry you felt only moments ago fading into nothingness as his hips jolt against yours at an ungodly pace. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, you swear you can almost smell the mixture of you both as you feel yourself grow wetter. His hand reaching down, the tips of his fingers circling your clit you rapidly feel your second orgasm begin to build as your walls grip Lokis length.

“Fuck.. Loki … I.. I’m going to” you stutter out as your orgasm washes over you, the feeling of your walls clamping down on his cock pulling Lokis climax from him along side yours. The heat of his cum inside you, threatening to seep from you at any movement as he continues grinding against you, surely your full by now. Given no time to adjust Loki pulls your other leg over his shoulder and begins thrusting into you again. How was he still hard? Was he going to keep to his promise of fucking you all night? You had a feeling you were about to find out.

His relentless pace continuing well into the early hours of the morning, he’d placed you in positions you swear must me from the Asgardian equivalent of the karma sutra, all engineered to keep his liquid inside of you. Even when you’d eventually fallen asleep with the morning sun beating through the curtains, he was still firmly inside of you, cock warming him as you slept to keep his essence inside of you. In the morning you woke up first, the worry he would regret his actions pulling you from your dreams. This was until you felt him awaken behind you, wrapping his arm around your stomach feeling himself inside you again. His hand glides over the bulge of your lower stomach, lovingly cradling you in his palm.

“I’m going to take a shower Loki, I feel all dirty” you say with a little smile, his length still firmly inside of you.

“Absolutely not, not a chance my love. We can’t risk undoing any of last nights work” he says kissing down your neck, thrusting lightly into your slightly sore entrance.

“I don’t think that’s quite how it works, but whatever you say.. daddy” you tease, the nickname once again turning Loki feral, beginning to thrust deeply inside you causing liquid to pour from you. If you thought last night that you were in for a long night, now, you knew that you were in for a long day.

Tag list: @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @vbecker10 @virtualstrawberrydinosaur @lokiprompts@cryingismyonlyhobby

@lokistoriesblog @msturi2u @sharris8 @apine7 @chiyongberry @fangasm202 @sinsandguilt

[tsukidrama]

maybe a jealous Annie in Off The Beaten Path

placated by plaits

off the beaten path (a trnt side story)

ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢѕ ᴀᴘᴘʟʏ

setting: building the cottage

ao3 | the road not taken | cottagecanon

← previous | next →

author's note: testing out how the people (that means you) feel about other relationships besides annie/reader

word count: 2.4k

Annie is chatty. Very, very chatty, when she’s comfortable. It takes you by surprise at first, because you’re so used to constant silence from her. After the initial shock, you quickly become endeared with it. Every word that comes out of her mouth is something that you deeply want to hear, no matter what it’s about. 

You’ll listen to her ponder the pros and cons of different materials with hearts in your eyes enraptured just because she talks about it with such passion. After a while, you come to the conclusion that it’s the least you can do to give her an audience. 

She spent four years with nothing but her thoughts, and you genuinely want to hear every word she has to say. Sometimes it even feels overwhelming, how much you want to know. It doesn’t feel like there’s enough time in the world to cover everything. 

The two of you have so much to tell one another. There are so many things that you want to talk about with her, from the big conversations about her wants and needs, to the stories she’d never told you, to the tiny details that don’t really matter. You want to hear every opinion she has about every little thing; oftentimes you’ll sit enraptured at the most mundane of topics. 

She goes on for hours about drywall and insulation, and you hang onto her every word. You’re honestly not sure what you’re doing half the time. You observe what Annie is doing and copy her, and as long as Annie is still talking then you figure you must be doing it right. 

Whenever you do inevitably fuck up, she just teaches you how to re-do it. Other people, she is not so patient with. Somebody else fucks up, she bans them from the project and does it herself, as demonstrated when Connie is sent down from setting roof tiles to help you, Pieck, Jean, and Armin finish up the deck. 

Whenever your friends are there, too, you quickly realize why they didn’t come more often. Annie herself doesn’t seem to fully be aware of it, but a certain green-eyed monster comes out in a way that you’ve never really seen before. She has to know that she’s got you hook line and sinker, but even little things seem to set her off. 

It’s a pretty hot day. The summer is coming to a close, though with the different climate and lack of predictability you end up regretting that this is when you chose to do heavy work. Annie and Reiner are still up on the roof while the rest of you either work on the stairs or the railing on the back patio. 

You and Pieck finish up with the railing before anybody else. After the final nail had been driven into the last post, you sigh in exhaustion (overdramatic maybe, since you had the least exhaustive task). The dark-haired girl next to you sets aside the toolbox and the two of you walk back over to the shade, where you eventually end up sitting on the makeshift brick counter. 

Both of you chug water until you catch your breath. You tuck a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, happy you wore it out of the way to begin with. Pieck, on the other hand, whose loose hair is plastered all over her face with sweat, was not so fortunate. 

Just looking at her makes you feel like you’re cooking. “Would you like me to braid your hair for you?” you offer. 

She perks up. All at once, she tries to start combing through it, pulling back all the loose and frizzy strands to make it somewhat workable. “Oh, would you really? I’ve stopped trying at this point. It’ll all fall out in half an hour if I put it in a ponytail,” she admits. 

Braiding hair has always been something that you’ve been called upon no matter where you go. Everyone wants their hair done, but far fewer people actually knew how to do it than you would’ve expected, so therefore you were voluntold to braid at many a sleepover or party throughout your life. 

You smile, and the familiar pride of being able to help swells up inside of you. “Yeah, of course. Sit on the grass here.” 

Pieck complies, folding her hands in her lap as she sits cross-legged in front of you. You don’t have a brush or anything, so you just use your fingers to comb out the worst of the tangles she didn’t get. 

It’s not too bad, actually. The biggest obstacle in your way is the slight dampness of sweat that leaves her hair sticking to itself. You don’t want to break the hair up into too many pieces, but you want everything tied back, so you section her hair into a top and bottom half. 

Braiding the top part is easy enough. It gets a little sticker when you’re trying to separate the strands as your fingers struggle to hook strands from the bottom section, but you end up with a solid result. 

It’s not particularly pretty, but it’s a structurally solid braid. All of her hair is tied back, even if it’s a bit lumpy. Pieck sits still throughout the process, eyes closed happily all the while. It takes an extra couple of minutes for you to thread the b

Jean walks over right as you’re tying off the end of the braid. He watches you loop the 

“Wait, can you braid mine, too?” he asks. There’s too much of a hopeful look on his face for you to bear to dash his spirits. 

If you’re going to let him down, you want to do it easily. “Is it long enough for that?” 

“Not if you do one on each side,” he pleads, wringing his hands. Alas, the puppy dog eyes win you over. It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? 

You sigh in resignation. “Okay, fine.” 

Pieck scoots over on the grass as Jean comes over to take her place. He’s more helpful than you anticipated, finger-combing through his own hair to smooth it out. 

Genuinely, you don’t expect it to hold. You’re pleasantly surprised when you find that if you start small, two braids does trick quite quite nicely – perhaps just barely so, but his hair is indeed long enough to stay in place. It’s not quite as easy as you’d like, but you do manage to keep it going a good inch or two past the base of his scalp. 

He shifts and turns his head, then smiles when he makes eye contact with Pieck. She returns the smile then giggles, which in turn, immediately makes him blush and bury his face in his hands. And even though you really can’t blame him – you’d probably have the same reaction if she looked at you that way too, but it makes you drop his hair. 

You’re debating whether or not you should chastise him, but he apologizes before you’d even get the chance. He fans his face in attempt to cool himself down. Surely he doesn’t think he’s fooling anyone… 

“Sorry,” he mutters sheepishly, “I’ll be still.” He puts his head back into place. 

To his credit, he does stay in the same position despite the fact that he’s still pretty visibly flustered. He blinks, averting his eyes from Pieck and trying to hold himself together. 

You twist his hair underneath itself one strand after the other, switching how you hold the loose hair throughout. There isn’t much hair left at the bottom, so the hair ties you use to secure the ends overlaps on itself so many times that it bunches up. It looks a little bit like a pom-pom, but it holds. 

Pieck picks a tiny yellow flower from the grass nearby, and leans forward over Jean. She threads the stem through a segment of the braid just behind his ear, taking a moment to adjust it before she sits back down aagain. Her fingers graze his jawline, lingering for just long enough that it makes you stare shamelessly. 

The chemistry is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Honestly, you’re so enraptured by whatever is going on right in front of you that you didn’t even notice that more people are approaching until you hear Annie’s voice. You smile as you turn to look at her, only to see her frowning. 

“You’re braiding hair over here? And you didn’t come get me?!” She has her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face while Reiner trails behind her by a few feet. 

You’re still so distracted that you don’t register that she’s upset with you until you try to wave her over, and all she does is narrow her eyes in response. Her nostrils flare as she exhales hard, her eyebrows knitting. You might mistake her expression for anger if it wasn’t for the tell-tale tears glistening in her eyes. 

No, it’s less rational than anger. It’s that jealousy again, rearing its ugly head. Poor thing… 

Pieck giggles again. “It’s okay, Annie, I asked her to. Jean and I were being demanding.” 

Yet still, the blonde girl pouts. “I wanted to be a part of it.” 

“You’re not too late! Here, come on,” Pieck waves Jean over, and he crawls out of place to go sit next to her – right next to her, you can’t help but notice – oh god, all you want to do is do a double take. No, that’s not your focus right now. 

Annie. She needs validation. She still looks displeased, though when you see her lower lip wobble you realize it’s just insecurity. She just wants your attention and she doesn’t know how to ask for it. 

“Come over here,” you invite her, gesturing Annie to the now-empty spot in front of you, “it’s your turn.” A big smile blooms on your face. You wiggle your fingers to invite her closer, raising your eyebrows. 

She scowls for a minute, and just shifts her weight. Finally she seems to consider it seriously when Reiner gently nudges her shoulder. He chuckles nervously when she glares at him, but he still encourages her. 

“Hey, if you don’t go down there then I’m gonna take your place. I want my hair braided too,” he jokes, ruffling his hand through his cropped cut.

Finally, Annie cracks. A smile slips out, and she shoots you a look out of the corner of her eyes. She seems nearly embarrassed  

As she sits down, she pulls her hair out of its updo and shakes it out. Even though she doesn’t make an attempt to comb through it herself, you’re more than happy to take that up yourself. Out of the three of them, her hair is the easiest to work with. 

It’s also the messiest of the three but fine enough that it untangles as soon as you pull at the knots. Both Jean and Pieck had much thicker hair, so Annie’s is a breeze. The braid takes shape easily and quickly, enough so that you feel like it’s too soon to end the experience. You unravel the braid so you can spend more time playing with her hair.

You grab the strands at the top and separate them out. Pieck’s hair was too thick and Jean’s too short, but hers is perfect for more of a waterfall look. The length makes it stay in place easily. You continue on while taking your time making the hairstyle look pretty, much more so than you did with the others. 

You take time to carefully weave the strands evenly, symmetrically. You tie the band at the base of the braid, then pull at each link of the braid to fluff it out a little. Once you’ve fiddled with it until you’re content, you take the braid and drape it over the side of her shoulder. 

“All done, beautiful,” you announce. You let your fingers trace down the back and sides of Annie’s neck softly, and as you do, you shoot Pieck a pointed look. The message comes across perfectly: I saw what you were doing. I see you. 

She simply smirks and arches an eyebrow at you, and leans back on the heel of her hands. Instead of backing down, somehow she gets even more bold by resting her free hand on top of Jean’s thigh. He hardly reacts when her fingers slide upward, though you certainly do. 

You think about that interaction for three days straight afterwards, and every time you see the two of them together after that. Even months later you’re unsure about what’s going on between them. The looks and lingering touches certainly continue, but their relationship seems platonic at face value. Over time, you come to the conclusion thay Pieck seems to enjoy teasing you with the knowledge of this little secret just as much as she teases Jean. 

After you’ve all rested up, you all get back to work in the few remaining hours of sunlight, with the three whose hair you braided keeping the hairstyles for the remainder of the evening. You’re proud of yourself, both because of the pride your friends have in hairstyles you gave them and because you were able to find a way to bring everyone together in an unexpected way. 

The exterior of the house is fully bricked up and left to cure over the next few days. Gutters and channels for water to drain out of the yard are dug out and paved. Roofing goes up and scaffolding comes down. Even though the inside still looks pretty rough, for the first time when you look at the house it actually looks like a house. 

[schneesisterss]

Do you have any head cannons for the other Dimitrescu sisters? I loved your takes on Cassandra!

thank you! <3 and Of Course I have headcannons for the other two. (though not as extensive as the ones I have for Cassandra bc you know... brain rot) BUT HERE:

Daniela:

ADD/ADHD representation

stims include, but not limited to: jumping, hard blinking, leg bouncing, word/phrase/noise repetition, and fidgeting with her clothing

and i’m also CONVINCED she gets the zoomies at random times of the day

Alcina, hearing loud and fast footsteps up and down her hallway at 3am: *sigh* “Daniela! Take it outside!”

followed by a loud THUMP and painful groan (she definitely ran into a wall)

hates loud noises but simultaneously has no volume control

especially when she gets excited

Cassandra has to constantly remind her to lower her voice

“AND THEN I TOOK MY KNIFE AND STABBED THE LYCAN IN THE NECK AND IT WAS SO COOL—”

“Dani, i’m standing right here, why are you yelling?”

she loves play-fighting with her sisters

Cassandra is more willing to entertain her than Bela but the both of them like to see their sister happy. so whenever they recognize Daniela getting antsy they’ll wrestle with her a bit

(Cassandra gets way to into it sometimes and makes Bela be the referee lol. Cass always ends up pinning her younger sister with a proud, competitive smile on her face. Bela let’s Dani win, but we don’t tell her that)

has the keenest senses of the three which makes her the best at stalking/killing pray

and since she can hear the best out of all of them, she unintentionally eves drops on conversations

so Daniela, bless her, has all the tea

tactile learner

will just. touch things

“Life hard, Mothers gown soft”

can get trapped in her own head and doesn’t know how to express to her family what’s bothering her

this can make her very reserved at times and she’ll distance herself for days on end

her mother is really the only person who knows how to get her out of that state. Alcina walks up the long flight of stairs to the highest point of her castle. her youngest daughter likes to come here sometimes when she needs the quiet. “Daniela? Are you up here?”

“Hello, Mother.” Alcina looks up to see her daughter lounging on a banister high up on the ceiling.

“What are you doing up there, my love?” Daniela rubs the fabric of her dress between her fingers. “Cassandra and Bela were arguing again. I don’t like when Cassandra yells.”

Alcina shakes her head. Those two were always going at it. She’ll speak to Bela about it later. “I haven’t seen you in a few days.” Daniela then grabs a fist full of her dress and tugs at it, blinking hard. “Come down for a moment. Talk to me, baby.”

and Daniela simply rolls herself off the banister and into free fall. Alcina, already prepared, catches her with ease and holds her bridal style against her chest. Daniela runs her hands over the sleeve of her mother’s dress.

Alcina gave her youngest child time to gather her thoughts, knowing it sometimes takes longer for her to be able to understand them herself. Daniela finally spoke up: “It’s been very loud recently. Around the castle. Small things, like footsteps or glasses clicking, they sound so loud in my head.” She covers her ears with her hands. “Even now I can still hear Cassandras voice through the castle, it’s pushing in my ears. My head hurts, Mother.”

Alcina gave her daughter a quick squeeze before setting her down. “Follow me baby, I want to show you something.” Daniela followed her Mother through the twists and turns of the castle until they ended up at a door that was just like all the others. It blended in and maybe that’s why Daniela has never noticed it before. “In here.” her mother guided.

Inside was a small library and lounge room. A fire place tucked in the corner and, of course, a wall a wine next to it. Daniela looked at her Mother questioningly.

“Listen.” her mother said, and Daniela did. She heard... nothing. Nothing outside of the quiet cracking of the fire place. “This room is sound proofed. Come here whenever you feel overwhelmed.” She leaned down to stroke her daughters head. “Just don’t tell your sisters I showed you my secret getaway room.” and with a wink, the tall woman exited the room and shut the door behind her.

The next day Daniela was at breakfast like nothing had changed. She didn’t even mind when Cassandra yelled at a maiden for breaking a plate, it only made her laugh.

(if you get overstimulated you KNOW what i’m talking about)

personal space? never heard of her.

loves to cling to Belas arm and Bela let’s her bc she thinks it’s just. so cute.

will also sometimes just crawl into her mothers lap and fall asleep. then Alcinas like: “well.. i guess i’m not moving for three hours”

Daniela: “if I run an jump at Cassandra, she’ll most certainly catch me.” *takes off in a full blown sprint*

Cassandra: “NO IM HOLDING HOT TEA—” *drops tea to catch Daniela* *proceeds to cuss her younger sister out, all while Dani is wrapped around her like a koala*

(this happens a lot. Dani will just... climb on Cassandra. piggy back rides, getting on her shoulders, wrapping her hands around her neck from behind and letting her feet drag on the floor, etc. Cassandra complains adamantly but never once moves to get her off)

Cassandra: “hey Dani, I dare you too—”

Bela: “Mother said Daniela isn’t allowed to accept dares anymore.”

Daniela: “apparently I have ‘no regard for my personal safety.’”

it takes a lot for Daniela to get genuinely angry, but when she does, it’s.... bad.

Very Very Scary when mad

turns into a completely different person that you Do NOT want to fuck with

dangerous and violent

much more dark and sadistic as compared to her normal personality

came home one night covered in blood and laughing hysterically. it scared the shit out of her sisters bc if they would try and get close, she’d slash at them with her weapon.

(this was one of the only times Bela had seen Cassandra genuinely worried and afraid for their sister)

when Alcina came to see what was wrong, Daniela, still laughing madly, swung at her too. Cassandra quickly shot out her arm and grabbed Belas elbow to stop her from getting involved. Bela whipped around with a growl but Cassandras glare and squeezing nails told her to back down. Mother can handle it.

Insane Laugh™️

thinks it’s funny to intimidate the maidens by showing her fangs and snapping her jaw

she often likes to find Bela when she’s reading a book to convince her to read to her (Bela almost always complies)

that’s it for Daniela. just a hyperactive baby with a murder streak <3 ONTO THE FINAL SISTER

Bela:

Mama’s (and I cannot stress this enough) Girl

needs constant reassurance that’s she’s doing a good job and yes this reassurance can ONLY come from her mother

INSOMNIAC

this girl never sleeps, pls baby you need some rest

she spends the time she should be sleeping reading books or running errands for her mother (whether Alcina asked her to or not)

she has read almost every single book in their giant library

Cassandra doesn’t understand this at all

“Why are you always cooped up in here?” Bela glanced up over the pages of her book at her younger sister. “This is the library Cassandra. Take a wild guess.” her voice was completely level and had no inflection. Cassandra gritted her teeth, “You think your so much better than me.” Bela sighed and closed her book. She didn’t want to do this again. “No. I don’t.” she said seriously. Cassandra eyed her for a moment then looked away, Bela saw the guilt on her face before she turned on her heal. “You’re so boring.”

because she reads so much, she is incredibly smart and just knows facts about random things

Daniela, daydreaming: “I wonder why grass is green.”

Bela, immediately: “the pigment that most grasses produce, Chlorophyll, absorbs almost all blue and red light and reflects green light which is why we see green. so I mean, technically grass is every single color EXCEPT for green.

Dani, confused as fuck: ....

Cass: “Bitch, how do you even know that?”

Bela’s sisters just end up using her as Google

“Hey Bela, how far away is the moon?” “238,900 miles.”

“Hey Bela, how many different climates are there?” “Twelve”

“Hey Bela, what’s the worlds deadliest poison?” “Botulinum... why?” “No reason.” “Dani. WHY?”

“Hey Bela, how much can I sell a human skull on the black market for?” Bela, concerned: “Cassandra why would—” “HOW MUCH?” “Well... are all the teeth still in tact?” “...No.” “Than only about $500.” “FUCK.”

“Hey Bela, I have this weird rash on my back and—” “Daniela. Do not finish that sentence. Go ask Mother.”

she is so quiet

and not just because she doesn’t talk very loud or even much at all. she’s just So. Silent. when she moves

just pops up in random places without anyone hearing her approach

even Daniela can’t hear her coming, which is saying something

Cassandra, minding her own business, drinking blood tea: .....

Bela, suddenly right next to her: “Hey I was wondering if— stop screaming, it’s me— have you seen Mothers lipstick? It’s missing.”

refuses any type of help with anything or else she feels like she failed that task

Never asks for help, Never asks for favors, and Never Ever will burden her Mother with any of her problems. Ever.

(Alcina thinks this is ridiculous. her eldest daughter pushes herself too hard.)

Anxiety™️

sometimes when her anxiety becomes too much she shuts down and becomes very indifferent to things around her. this has caused many fights between herself and Cassandra because Cass will get really fired up when all Bela does is respond with a monotone voice and blank stare.

overthinks literally everything and is a perfectionist

this makes her prone to panic attacks :(

when this happens she shuts herself in her room, not wanting to bother her Mother or sisters

Bela closes her bedroom door behind her and stumbles to her knees. she can’t seem to get air into her lungs no matter how hard she tried. she had failed. Mother asked her to bring her the head of that stupid man-thing, but somehow he knew their weakness.

how could he know? are Cassandra and Daniela ok? where are they? where is Mother?

Belas breathing was shallow and short, her chest burns as she presses her forehead into the ground. She claws the skin of her chest raw, leaving angry, red marks behind, desperately trying to open her lungs.

she stays as quiet as she can, only gasping few and far between. she will not be a burden. she should deal with the consequences of her failure. alone.

a sudden knock on her door makes her scramble backwards on her bottom till her back hits the opposite wall. then Belas worst nightmare, her Mothers voice.

“Bela?! Bela, is that you?” Alcinas words were rushes and worried. the door handle jiggled. “Bela, baby the door is locked, please let me in.” Bela covered her mouth and cried silently while her Mother begged to be let in.

the sound of snapping wood had Belas eyes flying open, her Mother had broken down the door. Bela shrunk into herself. She’s going to be so mad. I’m a failure. the ringing in her ears became so intense she couldn’t hear anything else.

large, soft hands cup her cheeks and a muffled voice through the air: “Bela, my love, you’re alright thank god. Are you hurt anywhere? Let me see.”

Bela pushed weakly at her Mothers arms and said between sobs, “I-I’m sorry, M-Mother.”

Alcina looked at her eldest daughter with confusion, she had no physical wounds, but the look on her face was heartbreaking. “What are you sorry for, my love?” this only made Belas breathing spend up even more, her face red from the lack of oxygen. Alcina quickly pulled her in close.

“Now Bela, listen to the sound of my voice,” she said it gently but just hard enough to grab her daughters attention. “I need you to copy my breath. Do it now, love, listen to me. Do what i’m telling you to.” Alcina took exaggerated breaths and noticed that instantly after her command, Bela had tried to follow, but the smaller girls breath was still choppy and small. Alcina rubbed a thumb across Belas cheek. “You’re doing so well baby. Keep going just like that. Good girl.” a smaller hand was placed on her arm and grabbed at her sleeve. “Good baby, use me to ground yourself. Keep breathing now, you’re doing so good.” Alcina kept whispering soft encouragements and praises until her daughters breathing was back to normal and she was laying limp on her chest.

Alcina moved the hair away from Belas face. “What a good girl, you did so well.” Bela squeezed her eyes shut and pushed into her Mother until her face was hidden. “I’m sorry Mother.” came a muffled apology, though her voice was much more steadier than before. “I failed you, I couldn’t stop the man-thing. He shot at the windows! He knows our weakness, Mother. What are we going to do? Where’s Daniela and Cassandra, are they ok? I should have stopped him for you I’m so sorry I—”

“Quiet.” Bela immediately seals her lips and looks away, already extracting herself from her Mother’s arms. She probably hates her. Alcina simple tugs her back and forces Bela to look in her eyes with a quick tap to the forehead. “Bela, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” Her daughters eyes go wide and she nods. “You have nothing to apologize for. This is not you’re fault and I will not allow you to think that way. Plus, the man-thing won’t bother us any longer, I took care of it.”

“But—” Alcina raises an eyebrow and Bela gives in, nodding hesitantly. “Good girl.” Bela exhales through her nose at the phrase and squeezes her Mother’s sleeve again. They sit like that for a few more moments, calming down.

Bela suddenly shoots up. “Daniela, Cassandra, are they—” “They’re fine my dear, Daniela got a little banged up, but Cassandra was already patching her up before I could even get close. We didn’t know where you were, that’s why I was so worried.” Bela relaxed and again nuzzled her nose into her Mother’s chest, took one more deep breath, then stood. “I’m going to go check on them.”

She steps through the now empty door frame and pauses. She spoke without turning around: “I won’t fail you again, Mother.” and shifts into a cloud of flies and disappears.

(am I projecting again? idk help)

can play the piano

no like you don’t understand, she is so good at piano

this girl has mastered songs by composers like Liszt, Beethoven, and Ravel

she’ll play for hours on end, if she starts a new piece she Will Not get up until she can play it through perfectly

she pretends not to notice Cassandra secretly listening to her play, hidden behind a nearby bookshelf

while her younger sisters always jump head first into a fight, Bela takes a more calculating approach. learning her enemies movements from afar before advancing and ending it in like 3 quick moves.

“Well Bela, if Mother asked you to jump off a bridge, would you?”

Bela, already climbing over the railing: “Hm?”

and there you go for Bela! my sweet child.. please learn self-care.

*ahem* I went overboard again didn’t I? WELP. I regret nothing. Give me more headcannons.

[husbandohunter]

Mermaids exist in stardew, yes? So imagine a mermaid farmer for Zhongli, Kaeya and Diluc it could be in Yandere setting or not. I just wanna know their reaction when they found out and how it’ll effect their relationship. Will it brew angst, love, or both

Part of your world [Genshin x Mermaid!Reader]{Stardew Impact series}

Synopsis: You came from the sea and he takes you through a journey of what it was like to live on land despite your differences.

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli

"I threw in Childe because I had an idea for him xD It's fluff month so everything is going to be happy from now on >.>"

=============================

{Diluc}

It was a hot summer day when Diluc first found you lying unconscious ashore. You had just swam far and wide from the ocean world, the climate deemed unideal for your case. With no one else around, he took the initiative to help you out of your situation.

He shortly found out by the slight appearances of scales gracing your legs that you were neither a human or someone coming from the town nearby. As legendary as mermaids are, Diluc wanted nothing to do with you. His beginning plan was to find your relatives and send you out of his house (Additional work isn’t welcomed when he has so much already). However, you latched onto him pretty quickly since he was the one who saved you.

Here stands a human, a creature that you always wanted to interact with, in your perspective he may look a little stern but he must have plenty of knowledge to offer based on all the antiques he owns.

The only problem was that you two had no way to communicate. Different worlds meant different languages. Whenever Diluc told you that you couldn’t stay, all you did was tilt your head and whenever you tried expressing what you wanted to say, well, normally bubbles would come out of your mouth since they were an indication for your words.

He gave up on trying to kick you out and simply allowed you to take residence as long as you stayed out of his workaholic life. You would tend to his farm while he was absent on other matters and feeding animals in the barn (a lot to do but a win-win situation now that you were able to discover what it was like to live on land at the same time). Though you were also a handful, most of the time Diluc had to excuse himself from his desk when you thought the rake was some sort of hair brush and he forbade you from using the bulldozer. Quite honestly you caused him a lot of stress. He spent most of his hours teaching you and before he knew, it was already a habit of his.

The only words you knew were three words. If you wanted to eat you would say ‘fish’. If you were thirsty, you would say ‘water’. If it was anything else, you would say ‘Diluc.’

He allows you to take long baths since he knows how hydrated mermaids must stay at all times. Orders a pool to be built in his front yard (at least this way helps him save his costly electricity bills). Diluc also borrows books from the library museum for you to read, anything that you would find interesting, (mostly they were about alphabets and picture-based stories (it felt like he was raising a child).)

Easily gets worried when you step into town with him, he keeps a watchful eye in case you collapse and extra bottles when you need a drink. Most of the time, he had to keep an eye on you since you had the natural instinct to waltz into whatever interested you, such as dancing in annual festivities (which you dragged him along of course). It was how he grew attached to your presence because you truly knew how to appreciate the world around you when he himself was too busy to do so.

Two worlds merged and he was learning how to live in yours too, how you perceive things. Building sandcastles, collecting seashells, listening to the echoes resounding within them. Activities he thought were unnecessary suddenly gained the meaning he had lost long ago. Diluc grew too fast at maximum speed, trying to get as many things done as he could, until he was pulled back by the emotional waves of your kindness and compassion, onto the shore he failed to live on. How ironic reality can be.

{Childe}

Everyone knew how much Childe loved to fish. He sets out at sea every evening to capture a batch of flounders, hopefully stumbling upon a legendary one.

In a way, he did. Just not what he expected. What he pulled out of the waters seemed to be a human-sized fish sitting upon the other residues caught in between. ‘A mermaid…?’ he thought, still digesting the fact in front of him. (No wonder the net felt so heavy).

At the same time he wanted to take you with and sell you for a good price but knew how mad Tonia would get when she found out. So he lets you go free. The thing is, you swam behind his boat and followed him back to land. This was how your relationship with Childe started, to this day he continues to jest upon that memory.

Tonia took most of the responsibility to coach you about human life. One of them was table etiquette, before you ate with only your hands which caused a mess. Childe would laugh hysterically at it until Tonia reminded him, “This is also what happens when you use chopsticks, big brother.”

Teucer invites you to basically anything since you have so much patience. Childe shortly realizes that he was soon going to be replaced as the eldest caretaker and you couldn’t even talk at that time. So it was only fair that he included himself in the circle while interacting with your way of communicating: sign language (Surprisingly, he was naturally good at it. Though his movements are rather exaggerated and...ungraceful).

You were nice enough to accompany him to his fishing tasks and soon enough became your daily activities. Childe takes the lead as you follow him from the side, sometimes he lets go of the steering wheel and allows you to push the boat instead (he kept a note to himself that in your mermaid mode, your strength multiplied by a large number). Other times he felt a little risky and decided to jump in the ocean with you for a swimming session. It worried you immensely but your anxiety subsided when you saw how much fun he was having and for the rest of the time, you both explored what the ocean had to offer.

Childe used to be a fish-cook enthusiast. Not anymore (since that day you cried when glancing at the flounder dish he placed on the table). He had to stick to seaweed or any other plant-based meals with a little bit of meat but too much would cause your stomach to churn. Since his siblings complained at the sudden change, he had to make a separate meal plan for them. With a mermaid in the house was certainly high-maintenance indeed.

Cuddling with you in front of the cracking fire blazing under the chimney was one of the calmest moments indulged himself in. He often chooses the life where the waves crash constantly, anticipating a thrilling storm that comes ahead. But you were just a lull at the sea, the mediator he needed in times where his siblings needed a mother-figure. Sometimes he fears that you would leave him and return to where your true family lives but he was grateful that you chose him above all else. He was grateful that by chance, he captured you at sea. One thing he loved about life was the unpredictability the future brings, including the blessings. Even if you were a creature from far away, in your presence he felt like he was truly at home.

{Kaeya}

When the tides rose above his head, Kaeya was sure that he was done for. The surfboard he recently stood upon slips off beneath his feet and he falls into the ocean’s merciless waves. No oxygen, no time to catch his breath amidst the impact, his eyes were slowly closing and the last thing he saw was the sun’s light beyond the heavy surface, along with the murky visual of someone swimming in front of it.

Although he almost drowned, the idea of being saved by a pretty mermaid makes up for the fact (He has a natural tendency to flirt at anything eye-catching even if you were an outlandish being). You on the other hand was confused by his advances as you couldn’t understand a word he was saying, hence you swam away.

Those beginning days when you chose to explore the land, Kaeya remembers how much trouble you had with walking using your new legs. He had to hold both your hands while leading you forward, he found it rather cute when you tighten your grip the moment you felt that he was going to let go (he was only bluffing of course but you still hissed at him). Still, Kaeya ensures that you don’t fall to the ground, he catches you in time when you collapse while laughing, “You’re doing great sweetheart.”

In return you teach him how to read the ocean’s movements so that he won’t drown again. Kaeya spends more time around the beach since he knows that the water bodies are where you were most comfortable with. He tells you that you always smell like saltwater whenever he buries his face in your hair, perhaps that was how he grew attached to the ocean as well.

In summer seasons there were several days where you had to sleep in his bathtub because the air was so dry. As a mermaid, he had to tolerate many of your unique quirks, in this case he had to deal with showering in cold water since you took up all the electricity. Another case was your wine tolerance, no one could challenge you to a drinking contest when your body could sustain large amounts of liquids. Kaeya sometimes jokes if you could turn him into a merman like those in fairytale books so he can have the same experience. You take it as a joke while he was also being half-serious.

When you have to take a temporary trip home, Kaeya visits the dock every evening and waits for you to come back, trying to see any signs of your colourful tail. He glances at the ocean he grew to love, knowing where he stood is as far as he could go and anywhere beyond the boundary was out of his reach. So many people left him in his life and even though he knew you wouldn’t do the same, he still worries. Uncertain if you would abandon him too.

Your existence became the center of his life the moment you chose to walk upon land with him. Side by side, through small hurdles the seashore and hurdles as big as the wave that almost killed him the day he met you, Kaeya keeps them all as if they were the most precious treasure a pirate could find. It didn’t matter if you were different from everyone else because despite your tail, all he could see was you.

{Zhongli}

While Zhongli strolls along the sandy beach, he follows the alluring sound of your singing voice. You sat upon the rock while humming along what seems to be an old folk tune, similar to what Guizhong once sang. The man folds his arms and closes his eyes. Many years have passed since he last heard something like this, “Your voice, it’s very lovely.”

He was a geologist who worked by the museum, collecting different types of rocks and seashells that would wash up shore. You became very familiar with his daily routine that before he pays a visit to the beach again, a pile of interesting rocks would be waiting for him by the docks. It was a gift. And Zhongli would bring snacks like seaweed soup as an accommodation for your kindness.

Unlike Kaeya, when you couldn’t walk because your legs were too weak to be used, Zhongli helps you with every step along the way even if the trip was a slow one. He even offered to have you carried when he saw you were having too much trouble but you insisted on trying. The whole trip that usually took ten minutes was a three hour walk.

Even though he knew many things, your language was not one of them. However he was willing to learn. Both of you have study sessions regarding each other’s culture. For you it’s the way humans drink with cups because of Zhongli being a tea fanatic himself, he even showed you how to hold a tea cup properly. You taught him how to swim since he had been so occupied on land that swimming never crossed his mind. Thankfully he was naturally good at it due to his tall stature (albeit a little scared when diving into an environment unknown and different to him).

Zhongli loves the way you sing and he would ask every time he wanted to read a book. Either under the tree on a warm spring day or on the couch when it was storming outside. Although he intended to get some reading done, Zhongli can’t help but fall asleep. You didn’t want to wake him up (and you could carry him if you wanted to thanks to your mega-mermaid strength) so by morning, you’d find yourselves in the same spot and your lap feeling numb.

Earth and sea were separated for a reason so that the creatures may stay upon the place where they belong. That wasn’t enough to separate you from him though. Zhongli would travel to the sea to see you and you mustered the courage to walk upon the hard surface of land. The two were only parts of the world but together they are part of the world, connected to form a whole new life.