#is this bc i had alcohol??? is that it?????

[mikashisus]

MAY THE WIND PROTECT YOU

SYNOPSIS: kinich recalls each time he heard you speak mondstadtian, each memory making him miss you more than the last. meanwhile, you return home to mondstadt.

PAIRING: kinich x gn!reader

TAGLIST ! @aphrodict @wystiix @tragedy-of-commons @pixelcafe-network @papiliotao

contains: poorly translated german, ajaw, intense pining (on both sides), down bad kinich, last part is not edited

word count: 4.4k

notes: THIS IS A PART 2!! writing this was sm fun guys, i had a field day with each scene. i wanted to post this yesterday on his bday, but gwen told me it'd be such a power move if i posted it today bc today is MY bday, so that's what i'm doing >:) crazy that his bday is a day before mine.

i was listening to this ost the entire time i was writing the mond scenes. when the mc mentioned the lullaby, that song is what i was referring to! anyw enjoy! TY ZIRA FOR PROOFREADING!!

part one!

The first time Kinich heard you speak in Mondstadt’s native tongue was two weeks after you arrived in Natlan. 

A merchant from Mondstadt had set up shop at the Stadium of the Sacred Flame. By pure chance, Kinich had been showing you around the Stadium that day. 

(Somehow, it slipped his mind that you were from Mondstadt— despite the fact that you unintentionally made it abundantly clear you were a foreigner by the way you dressed and your poor attempt to speak the language of Natlan.) 

As soon as you set your sights on the merchant’s wares, you were sprinting over to his stall, eagerly shouting in what sounded like an aggressive tone to the people around you. Kinich followed, worry pooling in his gut at the sudden commotion you just made. 

All your worries about wanting to set a good first impression had been thrown out the window the moment you saw a familiar face. With the way you and the merchant were animatedly speaking, anyone passing by would’ve assumed you were lifelong friends. However, that was not the case. 

Mondstadters were well known for being extremely welcoming and hospitable, especially within their own nation. Anyone who ever traveled there always put in a good word about their stay, claiming that although the nation’s ways of greeting foreigners was a bit odd, the entire populace had this unique charm that made everyone instantly feel at home there. Paired with the ever-flowing wind and the ideals of freedom and peace, Mondstadt seemed to be a true paradise. 

The few merchants Kinich had run into in the past were fairly kind people, though there was always this edge to them that made them feel a bit aggressive. Maybe it was their way of speaking… or their blunt honesty. 

Joining your side, Kinich realized you weren’t speaking the universal language of Teyvat anymore, and that now, you were speaking a language that sounded rough and throaty.

This must’ve been the language of Mondstadt. He only ever heard a few words here and there in passing through merchants he met in the past. 

He couldn’t understand a word you were saying, but he liked hearing your voice in its primitive state. 

The merchant made a gesture towards you, and you threw your head back in raucous laughter. Kinich wondered what you were talking about. A few moments later, he heard the words ‘Dornman Port’ fall from your lips, and he assumed that the topic shifted to where you were from. 

“It’s not everyday you see a Mondstadter down here in the South! Where are you from?” 

“Dornman Port!“ You answered eagerly, ”my family’s been living there for generations, but recently my grandparents moved to the city to get better access to healthcare.” 

“Ah, I see. No wonder your accent sounded familiar! My family’s a bit North of Dornman, more inland towards—“ 

From the excited way you two were speaking, Kinich guessed based on context clues that you and this merchant were from the same hometown.

Finally, you seemed to turn your attention back to the merchant’s wares, and your eyes practically sparkled once you set your sights on his entire alcohol supply. 

(You weren’t a true child of Mondstadt if you didn’t cherish your booze.) 

Pointing to a vintage bottle of something that was labeled in Mondstadt’s native tongue, you fished some mora out of your satchel.

“I haven’t seen many Mondstadters down here,” you said, resuming your earlier conversation, “not that we can’t travel to other nations, I just mean—“ 

“It’s strange?” The merchant finished your sentence. “I get that a lot from the locals. Usually, Fontainians visit Natlan the most, though I suppose that’s not too surprising. The hot springs are great!” 

“Speaking of Fontaine, I was suspected of being Fontainian my first year here. The looks on the locals’ faces after hearing I’m from the Crown of the North were priceless!”  

You took the bottle of Dandelion Wine and smiled. “I bet! I got questioned a bit too on my arrival a few weeks back.” 

He eyed the journal in your hands. “Akademiya student?” 

“Yes, sir! Vahumana Darshan!” You nodded. “I’ll be here in Natlan for six months to work on my thesis.” 

Glancing at Kinich, you suddenly felt a pang of guilt rush through you. Unintentionally, you had been making him wait this whole time. You quickly wrapped up your conversation with the merchant, explaining that Kinich was your ‘tour guide’ and you had to leave. 

“Good luck with your studies!” The merchant shook your hand, his grip firm. It reminded you of your father’s handshakes. “Let the Wind lead, youngster.” 

“Danke! May the Anemo Archon bless you! Tschüss!” 

The second time Kinich heard you speak in Mondstadt’s native tongue was when a yumkasaur had stolen your journal and decided not to give it back. 

(He didn’t think he’d ever heard someone curse so much in his life— aside from Ajaw.)

Although he couldn’t understand what you were saying, he just knew you were cursing that yumkasaur to the high heavens. And as soon as he helped you get your journal back, you cursed the yumkasaur out again as it hissed at you and flew away. 

It took a heavy amount of restraint for Kinich not to burst out laughing. You could’ve sworn a small snort had escaped from his lips as he raised a hand to cover his mouth, but that was the least of your priorities. 

Your main focus was on the big chunk taken out of your journal. 

A few pages of your journal were missing, meaning you had to rewrite three pages (front and back) of all the research you found in some Dahri ruins nearby the Scions of the Canopy. 

To say you had been angry was an understatement. You hadn’t stopped rambling in Mondstadtian for the rest of the week, and Kinich was more than a little worried you were going to throw yourself off the balcony outside your villa. 

(You didn’t, but other people from his tribe did say you spent the remainder of the week in those ruins — which, to be frank, was concerning considering you always outright refused to go exploring during the day. 

When he found you, you were mumbling to yourself and teetering on the edge of becoming someone’s sleep paralysis demon. Long story short, he had to drag you back to your villa.)

Needless to say, that was a fond memory of his, despite your imminent despair that entire week. 

It had been five months since you returned to Sumeru. Five grueling months of convincing himself he didn’t miss you as much as he truly did. 

There was a significant decline in his mood since then. 

Ever since he walked you to the borders between the Children of Echoes’ settlement and the Sumeru desert— where an escort from the Eremites was waiting (he remembered you addressing her as ‘Dehya’) —he’d been all down in the dumps. 

At first, Ajaw had a field day teasing him, until eventually, the mini pixelated dragon got tired of his sour attitude and stopped mentioning you altogether. 

One mention of you and Kinich became snappy and pissy. If he saw something that reminded him of you, he began sulking like a kicked puppy. It was amusing to Ajaw… at first. But as time dragged on, it just made him more and more annoyed. 

(“Are they all you think about!?” Ajaw screamed once after Kinich bought a bottle of Dandelion Wine from that merchant you would always talk to. 

Kinich didn’t answer, but the pout on his lips was enough to make it clear to anyone that yes… you were all he thought about.) 

He found himself back at the same merchant’s stall, immediately putting Ajaw in timeout before he could even utter a word. 

The Mondstadt merchant greeted Kinich with a firm, friendly handshake. “Welcome back! Did you enjoy the Dandelion Wine?” 

Kinich nodded curtly. “Yes. It was quite good. My tribe enjoyed it, as well.” He paused. “Where was it made?” 

The merchant’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. He probably wasn’t expecting that question. He stroked his chin. “Well, you’ve probably heard of it if you’re a wine lover, but most alcoholic beverages from Mondstadt are brewed by the famous Dawn Winery.” 

Kinich had heard of it, though only in passing from merchants. 

“The Dawn Winery’s the reason Mondstadt’s even known as the wine capital of Teyvat. Without the winery, Master Diluc, Mondstadt’s fertile soil, and the wine brewing methods taught to us by Lord Barbatos, we wouldn’t be where we are today.” 

“The Anemo Archon taught you how to brew wine?” Kinich raised a brow. 

The merchant nodded. “Why, of course! Back when the people of Mondstadt migrated to Cider Lake, Lord Barbatos taught our ancestors the intricacies of wine making, and over time, his original technique had been refined into what it is today!” 

Interesting. So that was how Mondstadt’s wine business began. 

“We even have wine festivals to honor Lord Barbatos,” the merchant continued, piquing Kinich’s curiosity, “Weinlesefest is the most common. Every harvest, families come together to brew wine and offer it up to Lord Barbatos as a sort of ‘welcome home’ gift for the western wind. If he’s satisfied with the wine, he blesses us with a refreshing breeze.” 

Weinlesefest. He heard you talk about it once in passing with a different merchant. He couldn’t understand what you were saying, as you had been speaking Mondstadtian, but he knew it had to do with a festival; seeing as it was one of the first things the merchant had brought up in conversation. 

“I see.” Kinich nodded curtly, making a mental note to ask you about the Weinlesefest in his next letter. “So… does the whole nation celebrate?” 

The merchant nodded. “Yep! It’s a time of gathering together with family and friends. Mondstadters living away from home usually come back for Weinlesefest.” He let out a heavy sigh. “In fact, it’s happening right now. But work is work, so I can’t visit my wife and kids. I can only hope Lord Barbatos will keep them safe in my absence.” 

Kinich was slowly learning how Mondstadt worked the more and more he talked with Mondstadters. He sent a small smile to the merchant and bought three bottles of wine this time, even going as far as to pay extra. 

“I hope you can return home soon and see your family.” A small pang of something bitter settled in his chest. 

Family. 

“Tschüss.” He muttered, the word feeling odd and unusual on his tongue. 

The merchant’s face lit up with pure, unbridled joy. He shook Kinich’s hand once more, firmer and more enthusiastically than the other times. It was obvious Kinich had just made this man’s day, even if it was something so simple as saying ‘goodbye’ in his language. 

“Tschüss!” 

That night, he sat on his bed, writing out another letter. He occasionally glanced at the last one you had sent him, his fingers gently tracing your elegant handwriting. 

(Name), 

I visited the Stadium today to receive a commission. The merchant you always talk to, Klaus?? was there again. He told me the history behind wine making in Mondstadt. 

It’s interesting that your Archon taught you that. He also mentioned that Weinlesefest is happening right now. I remember you mentioning that festival a few times before. Did you go home for the festival? What does your family do to celebrate? Speaking of… how is your family? And your grandparents?

Everything is going well in the Scions of the Canopy. We’re recovering from the losses of the war, along with the nation as a whole, but there is still a large scar. The toll will be great for a while, but all we can do is move forward and honor the fallen. 

You don’t need to worry about us, by the way. Mavuika is strong. Speaking of Mavuika, she’ll be heading off for the final fight in a few weeks’ time. Everyone’s antsy, but we know she’ll pull through. She isn’t the Archon for nothing. 

-Kinich 

P.S. - Mualani insisted on taking you to visit the People of the Springs the next time you’re here… but knowing you, I don’t think you’ll like the hot springs :P 

P.P.S. U BETER RETURN IN 1 PEACE LOWKY HOOMAN OR I W1LL  KILL U  >:( -AJAW

The day your vacation was confirmed, you jumped for joy right in the middle of the House of Daena. It earned you a halfhearted glare from Alhaitham, the Akademiya’s scribe, but you didn’t care in the slightest. You were just happy you finally got your much needed vacation. 

You weren’t close with the scribe. Your relationship was far from anything like that, but you saw him enough on a daily basis to consider him an acquaintance. He often occupied a table in the House of Daena, either reading a book or writing furiously in a notebook. 

There were a few times you visited his office to drop off parts of your thesis for peer review, though he was never there when you did. His office hours were listed right next to the door in bold letters, yet he was never present for them. It made you raise a brow and wonder how he was even still employed if he never even showed up for his required office hours. 

Though, he did give you the proper feedback you needed for your thesis, so you couldn’t really complain. 

“I didn’t know you oversaw vacation notices,” you said, glancing up at your senior as he stood next to you. “I thought your only job was to record things for the Akademiya. Oh! That reminds me, when is my thesis presentation?” 

He sighed. “Being the scribe is more complicated than that. And yes, all proposals for vacations go straight to my office from the drop box.” 

You hummed. “So like, how does that work? Do you just check a box that says ‘yes’ or ‘no’?” 

“If the proposal was sent in during a break period, then it gets approved. Any proposals sent in after the break period are denied. The presentation for your thesis is scheduled for three months from now in the Vahumana Lecture Hall at two o’clock sharp. The Dendro Archon will be present alongside the Vahumana Sage and the Grand Sage. Be prepared to answer any and all questions from all of them.” 

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you waved him off dismissively, “I already received that info in my mailbox.” 

Three months from now… Did you have anything planned for that day? You thought it over. 

“Shit.” You muttered.

“Something wrong?” Alhaitham questioned, his arms crossing over his chest. 

“My hometown has its annual food festival that week… Ah, well, there’s always next year.” It still stung, though. It would be the first time you missed it. “Besides, I’ll be home for Weinlesefest, so that should be enough.” 

Your parents would be upset, but they’d understand. Your thesis was a big deal, after all. As long as you were home for Weinlesefest, you knew they wouldn’t mind you missing out on Dornman Port’s annual food fest. 

You stood up and grabbed your bag. “Well, I should pack. And mail my letter before I leave.” 

“I’ll be stopping off at Port Ormos later. I can mail it for you.” Alhaitham offered. 

Although he didn’t show it, Alhaitham was kind. This was something you had to learn the hard way after a few misunderstandings. He had his own way of showing kindness, and it was often through his actions rather than his words. 

“Really? That’d be awesome! I have so much to do before I leave, I was beginning to think I wouldn’t be able to make it to the mailing office.” You dug through your bag and pulled out a letter, handing it to him. 

His eyes scanned the envelope, his brow raising slightly in surprise. He shot you a knowing look, but he didn’t pry. 

“Thanks, Scribe!” 

“Alhaitham.” He corrected, nodding curtly before taking his leave. 

You smiled as you watched him go. Friendship with the scribe: secured! 

The boat ride home to Dornman Port was long and grueling, but the crew was friendly and had a good sense of humor. You found yourself making a few new friends in unexpected places. 

The soft breeze of eternal Spring shifted to a biting chill in the air as the boat neared your beloved hometown. The wind whipped violently, howling like the infamous Wolf King of Wolvendom. 

Up North, the winds were harsher and colder. There was a legend in your hometown— that a god ruling over this section of land during the Archon War had died with many regrets, and therefore, cursed the land with a wintry wind that would never cease. 

Whether or not that had been true was a mystery. The god’s name was long forgotten from Mondstadt, and so too was their legacy. The only person who could possibly provide evidence to those events would be the Anemo Archon himself. 

The boat docked and the sailors let out heavy sighs of relief. One clapped you on the back cheerfully. 

“How’s it feel to be home?” He questioned, a big smile on his face as he kicked a wooden plank onto the docks. 

You smiled, inhaling the cold air you missed oh so much. The same air that you had been longing to feel on your skin for months. 

“Good… great, actually!” you answered, thanking him as he helped you off the boat. 

You looked around, taking in the sight of the familiar bustling port with navy rooftops and tightly packed houses. Lanterns were strung between lampposts, ornate garland hung from the sides of houses and wrapped around streetlights. Market stalls occupied every corner, accompanied by the occasional yell of a merchant trying to sell their wares. 

Dandelions were blown up into the air as children roamed the streets, waving around wooden swords and weaving between adults’ legs. A stray dog followed behind the group, barking happily. 

The sweet tune of a lyre and a flute rang in your ears from a distance, and you quickly realized it was that same familiar Dornman lullaby that all Mondstadtians knew by heart— specifically those of you born in the far North. The song was soothing and nostalgic to your ears, opening the floodgates to a whole range of memories from your childhood. 

You inhaled the biting air again, this time with your eyes closed. “Yeah… it’s more than great to be home.” 

The sailors bid you farewell, claiming they’d see you again once you returned to Sumeru. Enthusiastically giving them your goodbyes, you watched as they loaded trade goods onto their ship before taking your leave. 

Dornman was exactly how you left it: serene yet lively. 

You stopped to chat with a few of the elders, greeting them excitedly. They asked about your studies, how your thesis was coming along, and wished you luck in your future endeavors. 

Passing by a group of kids you swore were only a few apples tall the last time you saw them, they called out to you and asked if you brought any souvenirs back for them. Showing them your empty hands, they began to pout and call you old as you playfully threatened to kick their asses. 

They ran away giggling, pretending to scream at the ‘scary monster they provoked.’ 

Shaking your head with a smile, you continued on your walk home, greeting other familiar faces as you did so.

Tucked away behind a few hills and farther from the main streets of the port, was your parents’ house. Seeing the same, old rickety wooden gate still standing tall was a surprise. You could’ve sworn that thing had fallen by now, but it was still here, on its last leg. 

The eager barking of two dogs could be heard as you unlocked the gate and walked up the stone path. Spotting the beds of flowers outside the windows, you smiled. It seemed as though your father had been participating in his yearly flower competition again with the old ladies that lived just down the road. 

You leaned down to take in the smell of the fresh cecilias, your favorite. 

The old door of your home hadn’t changed, and the decorative basket of flowers hanging from the front hadn’t either. You picked up the handle of the dove doorknocker and waited, listening as the sounds of barking got louder and louder. 

A series of locks clicked before the door swung open and two black and brown dogs came tumbling out, knocking you onto the stone path. You laughed as they licked your face, excited for your return. 

“Millie! Hashbrown!” You hugged each of them, placing kisses on their heads before you stood back up. 

Your father embraced you, hugging you tightly. You returned the hug, smiling as you pulled away. He took your bags from you and ushered you inside, claiming your mother had baked a few pies to celebrate your return home. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent catching up with your family, telling them all about your studies in the Akademiya and your long trip in Natlan. You told them about Kinich, a man from the Scions of the Canopy. 

That’s when your mother sent you a knowing look. Nothing ever escaped her know, especially when it had to do with crushes. You assumed it was because of that rumored sixth sense that all mothers possessed. Or maybe the smile on your face as you talked about Kinich was just too obvious. 

You told them how you and Kinich wrote letters to each other as much as you could, though it was getting harder for you to keep that up when exams had rolled around. 

“Speaking of mail,” your father interrupted, standing up, “we received a letter a few hours ago from a ��Kinich.’” 

He handed you the envelope and you snatched it from his hands, ignoring the way he snickered at you as you did so. He took another sip of his beer and sighed. 

“Oh, and there was a package too!” He rummaged around on the kitchen table before handing you a tightly wrapped package. 

Confused, you took it. You had no idea what could even be inside it, but assuming it had arrived at the same time as Kinich’s letter, you guessed it was from him. Your mother stood up. 

“Let’s give them some privacy, dear.” She patted your father’s chest and ushered your siblings out of the room before sending you a wink. 

You rolled your eyes and opened the envelope, smiling absentmindedly at Kinich’s somewhat messy handwriting and the complete scribbles at the bottom of the page that were nearly indecipherable. Judging by the chicken scratch, you deduced the last message had been from Ajaw. 

You ripped open the package and set aside the note. Inside was a handmade blanket with a small note that claimed it was made by the Flower Feather Clan. 

You admired the swirling designs and hugged it to your chest. So he had remembered how much you loved blankets. Receiving such a high quality gift meant the world to you, as did the thought of him going to such lengths to have it handmade just for you. 

Digging through to the bottom of the box, you found a neatly wrapped vintage bottle of Dandelion Wine, silently cheering. You’d enjoy this with your family during the rest of the festival.

One last item sat at the bottom, so small you almost overlooked it. Pulling it out, you slipped it out of the velvet bag it was in and your jaw dropped. A gold necklace with purple and blue crystals fell into your palm, cold to the touch. 

Based on the fine craftsmanship, you could tell it had been crafted by a blacksmith from the Children of Echoes, and the crystals had been from the Masters of the Night Wind. 

Kinich really didn’t have to get you all this. Was there some sort of special occasion, or had he just wanted to send you gifts? You weren’t sure, but you were already thinking of some Mondstadt specialties you could send him in return. 

Heading up to your bedroom, you placed the gifts on your bed and grabbed a piece of paper from your desk. You sat down near the windowsill and unclasped the latch, pushing your window open. A cold breeze wafted inside, the scent of dandelions invading your room. The wind chimes hanging from your window sang in the wind, their sound comforting to your ears. 

You began to write. 

Dear Kinich, 

Thank you for all your thoughtful gifts!! Based on the fact you mentioned Klaus in your letter, I’m guessing you bought the Dandelion Wine off him, didn’t you? 

Pass on my regards to him! Möge der Wind dich beschützen! 

Weinlesefest has officially kicked off! Unfortunately, I missed the opening ceremony in the city, but tomorrow we’ll be opening the wines in my hometown! At least I haven’t missed that! The opening of the wines is the most important part of Weinlesefest, as it honors Lord Barbatos. 

My family is doing great as ever! Same old, same old, honestly. I’ll be seeing my grandparents in a few days, as my family will be taking a trip to the city to celebrate the festival with them! Unfortunately, I have to go back to the Akademiya in a week to continue my studies and refine my thesis per the Scribe’s suggestions. I wish I could be home longer, but school is school :( 

I’m glad to hear everything has blown over somewhat smoothly and all of you are safe. I can’t imagine everything you’ve had to witness, but I’ll offer up prayers of my own for the fallen (is that okay? That isn’t insensitive right…? Please tell me if it is). 

I hope the healing and rebuilding is going smoothly. If I was there, I would help in a heartbeat. Oh! I have an architect acquaintance in Sumeru! Maybe he and his team could help…? Say the word, and I’ll request his help! 

NO, I think I would melt into a puddle if I ever even stepped FOOT into those hot springs… Sorry Mualani, but I’m good… I’d rather stay in the brisk trees of the Scions of the Canopy.

Thank you once again for the gifts. I’ll cherish them. 

Mögen die Feuer von Natlan immer brennen. 

Sincerely, 

(Name) 

P.S. I’ll return back safely to you, Ajaw. Don’t worry! :)

notes: including all the german words were sm fun to do bc i'm german (not too familiar with the language but i'm in the process of learning!) and i am a firm believer that teyvat has their own languages, and dialects within those languages. some translations: danke = thank you, tschüss = goodbye, Möge der Wind dich beschützen = may the wind protect you, Mögen die Feuer von Natlan immer brennen = may the fires of natlan stay ever burning

© 2024 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[starbabyg]

Frat Boy! Jack Hughes headcanons

Literally so in love with the idea of Jack being a cute college boy just living his best life, gonna make a frat boy! Jack series soonnnn <3 def gonna make a pt. 2 just wanna roll out some content to get me back in the writing mood

Honestly probably isn't officially in a frat, he just chills with the guys in frats bc Jack's just friends with everyone

Always sporting a backwards cap cause fawkk it looks so yummy on himmm

always late to class but always finds a way to sit next to you

he likes how you're kind enough to catch him up and copy your notes

he secretly does it on purpose just so he has an excuse to talk to you

loves him some tequila and hennessy 👅👅

literally the most chill guy on the planet til he gets alcohol in his system

had to be drunk to confess that he likes you

"Y'know I really like that you're so nice to me. Like realllyyyy like it."

sooo touchy touchy when he's drunk

a sneaky flirt

literally just finds you at loud parties just so he can talk directly in your ear, so he can not-so-accidentally brush his lip against your ear

and omggg don't let him need to pass by you

one of those guys who does the "Excuse me sweetheart," while he puts his hands on your hips

of course he makes sure you're into it, the last thing he wants to be is a creep

For some reason you take a chance on this all american boy, even if the two of you might not seem all that compatible on paper

In reality the two of you become best of friends.... who also kiss and make out and hook up

You two think it's a big secret, that everyone just thinks you're just close friends. But let's face it, everybody knows the two of you are far more than friends

Everyone just thinks it would be funny to let y'all think that people are clueless.

"soooo you're coming to my game today, right??"

always makes sure you're in the crowd, always makes sure you have a seat right in his view

if you're not, he def crashes out and plays as violent as possible

"did you hear how Jack was breaking sticks and fighting everybody??" there would always be gossip after these games

def asks you to come to his place and try his cooking

which isn't the best but isn't the worst, but you definitely help him in the kitchen

always comes to class with your favorite drink

literally knows your order by heart now

idk it's just so cute how he's such a playboy in everyone's eyes but he's so head over heels for you

[girlatrocity]

that one scott pilgrim scene

[why-the-heck-not]

whiskey & writing this thesis bc the introduction chapter is taking more linguistical creativity than what I have with just caffeine (idk what to write in this without it sounding like a 3rd grader’s essay yikes)

[dreamlandcreations]

Imagine calling Halbrand yours when you get drunk...

• previous part •

Imagine calling Halbrand yours when you get drunk...

It was Thranduil's fault! He knew you didn't handle alcohol well, and instead of worrying about you when you missed your 100-year meeting, he got all mean and sent three bottles of the strongest wine he could find and his favourite and most trusted servant - not that the spoiled brat would would admit it - and made you drink all of it in one sitting.

As you drank you started to complain to the man watching your suffering.

He surely wanted you dead, surely!

Who needs enemies when you have friends like this?

You finally got an answer when you started to plan what you would do in revenge when you met again, to which your "guard" answered that the prince would love to welcome you next time, exactly 99 years later, if you can be in time, his words.

Halbrand, following your rather loud answering curses, wandered into the room just in time to catch you when you tried to stand and immediately lost balance.

Elrond found you a few moment later with your head in the man's lap as you held on the lying sofa despite your insistence that you could stand just fine.

Your brother didn't miss a moment to tease you, claiming that Thranduil has strange ideas of courting. And you did not notice but Halbrand tensed at the comment, Elrond was watching close though, seeing the relieved exhale too after your reaction of disgust at the idea, claiming that the princeling is like a brother to you.

Elrond pretended to be hurt, and you rolled your eyes and said you were just friends. To which came the quick response that you seem to have too many friends lately as he eyed Halbrand with a strange look that you missed too.

You broke the silent staring contest when your brain finally caught up. Looking up to Halbrand with a sad smile, reaching up and finding a strand of his hair to curl around your finger to get his attention, you say that he is not a friend. Not like that, because he doesn't trust you with his secrets.

With your mood quickly changing, you cheerfully continue your conversation with the servant as slowly sit up you drink the remaining wine, telling him that you will go wherever you want, whenever you want but if his prince insist on being mean, you will just spend time with your king. Making Halbrand's heart skip a few beats, not just with your comment but the following deliberately exaggerated kiss on his cheek before you are turning to bicker with your brother once more.

• next part •

[socialbunny]

 Skip has always found a way to work through his problems and turn them around with relative ease, but the sudden death of his wife, Brandi, has brought his mostly carefreeness towards his children  to a stand-still. With two freshly traumatized children and a newborn under his belt, can Skip juggle turning his shitty ass life around for his family, or will he crumble under the weight of his past mistakes?

Darleen hasn’t been the same since her husband, Darren, died, though she’d be quick to argue with you if you said anything of the sort. She’s FINE! She misses her husband, undoubtedly, but she’s not going to let that very, very, very tiny thing wreck her whole life, and she’s not going to let people give her grief about ANYTHING. Sure, she got fired from her job a few months back and hasn’t made any strides to find a new one, and she’s losing touch with her son as she goes and squanders all her responsibilities by partying and drinking on par with younger years, aaaaaaaaaaaaand the almost obsessive idealistic crush she’s developed on her neighbor is clouding the second half of her judgment, but she’s bounced back from worse and knows everything’s going to come up Darleen :) …………. hopefully

[skunkes]

weird 2 say but sometimes i wish i was more into hobby/medium so id have an excuse or wasteless purpose to get more of it. Like. Wish I had purpose within watercolor illustration and as a medium in general so I could get those fancy artisinal watercolors just bc they look so beautiful

[preciouslandmermaid]

spencer/reader + southern gothic aesthetic "I'm just a child, but I'm not above violence My mama raised me better than that..."

the mosquitoes and frogs sing their discordant symphony above the rustling oak leaves and Spanish moss that drape over branches like abandoned wedding veils. you push your toes on the damp floorboards and the rocking chair tilts backward, and your stomach lurches as you sway forward. the old book on your lap with yellowed pages and a musty scent lays open like a vivisected hare. a gnat lands on the corner of the page and you try to flick it away. you accidentally killed it and your brows furrow softly. the hinges on the screen door squeak and you break your monotonous rhythm, the rocking chair sway cut short. "garcia says we're lucky we have cell service," spencer says, with his hands in his pockets, before his eyes flick to your lap, "what're you reading?" "mm." you nod. "nice of the chief to let us use his house." you close the book and self-consciously wipe the title with your hand (the one that killed the gnat). "did you know that franz kafka didn't want bugs on the cover of his book?" "you're reading 'the metamorphosis'," he guesses. "it's a comfort read," you say, shrugging, your toes pushing the floorboards again. spencer slowly sits in the rocking chair beside you and you silently return to the symphonies of the moist, summer night. at least - you do until spencer starts talking about his interpretation of the novel and you listen, your eyes focused on the harsh, slice of darkness where the porch light doesn't reach.

[exploded-blobfish]

Filled a page in my sketchbook with some Ghostbusters frozen empire stuff

[luminarai]

It’s 1am and I just got back from my mom’s 60th birthday party where she’d asked me to be the toastmaster (stressful because my family is nothing but a bunch of well meaning chaos goblins and it only intensifies when they’re united) and I’d written a speech too (usually my mom is the speech maker in the family so I was incredibly nervous)

But despite the chaos (to which my mom 100% contributed by placing secret tasks under random guests’ plates) everything went well and my speech got a bunch of laughs and made my mom (plus several other people apparently?!) cry happy tears, which honestly? Was the ultimate goal.

[pfhwrittes]

something something the 141 going on a butlin’s big weekend something something

[pancakemolybdenum]

happy very very late holidays @larcenistarsonist!!!! im your backup gifter for the @jojo-heritage-posts gift exchange!

in honor of the lateness this is about the day after new year. that feeling when you invite your estranged and divorced father for new years to maybe heal your broken relationship but you end up being bad influences on eachother and just watch national geographic and eat pizza in the january 1st haze

[crowrelli]

tipsy boy 💅💅

[thalassophiliascripte]

texas hold me

Balor/Female Farmer, 2k, read on ao3 here

With Eiland intoxicated, there's no one to run Dungeons and Drama. Balor has another suggestion for how the group could spend their Friday Night - and there's definitely no ulterior motives there.

Friday nights at the inn were always interesting, but there was an arcing electric current in the air tonight.

Perhaps it had something to do with the drinks being half-off. Perhaps it had something to do with the kids being off camping in the Western Ruins. (Maple had seen the ancient circlet and the lost Aldarian crown in the museum, and insisted they go camping to see if she could find a real royal crown for herself.)

Perhaps it had nothing to do with either of those facts, and more to do with the warmth along her side where she was leaning against Balor. Eiland had stumbled in from talking to the kids at the ruins and plunked himself down at the bar—so Dungeons and Drama was cancelled for the night. Adeline had wandered over to ask him what was going on, but the wild look in his eyes and the muttered comment about Dell was enough to send her back over to the newly-emptied Dungeons table shaking her head.

“I’m not sure what happened, but it couldn’t have been anything good to leave Eiland looking like that,” she said. Then she clapped her hands together. “Even if we can’t play, we need to find something to do. I’ve set aside the next few hours on my calendar to have fun, so let’s get to it!”

“Right,” Aryn replied. “Right.” Technically she wasn’t officially part of the game, but Eiland had asked her to voice an NPC a few weeks ago, and then the rest of the players had been enchanted with her small gnomish barbarian, and dragged her along with them as they pursued their next objective, so she also needed to find another form of entertainment for the evening.

Balor watched the other table with a wistful look in his eyes, which he then turned on the remaining Dungeons and Drama players—which was only Celine, Aryn, and Adeline at this point.

Holt had pulled up a chair behind his wife, and with Olric watching his brother at the bar, she was slowly piling up a ridiculous number of poker chips while he watched her with shining eyes. Juniper and Valen leaned on one another, having taken the blacksmith brother’s place, and steadily descending further into drunken hysteria from the frequency of their giggling.

“It’s been such a long time since I was able to play a round of poker,” he sighed.

Aryn glanced at Adeline, then at the boys at the bar. Reina was still serving them drinks, but when Aryn caught her eye, she winced and slowly shook her head while miming taking another drink.

“We could play a round,” she said slowly, “but only if you get Olric, March, and Eiland over here to join us.”

Balor followed her gaze toward the bar, and grimaced. “I’m not certain how good they’ll be for it,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll try though—the doctor is off duty, and there’s nobody that can help if they drink themselves unconscious.”

Aryn watched him at the bar for a few minutes, having some sort of hushed conversation with the drinkers. March’s face flushed an interesting shade of red, and Eiland was nodding before Balor had finished the offer. Then he nearly slid off his stool. Balor had to steady him as he made his way over to the table. March and Olric followed, leaning on each other.

“Good old-fashioned poker is all well and good,” Balor began once he’d gotten back to their table. “But we were talking over by the bar, and we’d be able to just rotate in to the other table if we wanted to do that. So, does anyone care to wager something a little more…interesting?”

It just so happened that the last of his announcement left Balor murmuring in Aryn’s ear. His breath tickled the hair on the nape of her neck. She bit the inside of her lip in a desperate bid to avoid shivering.

“What did you have in mind?” Aryn asked. Balor hummed, and stroked his chin theatrically. Before he could say anything, Adeline interrupted him.

“Not drinks.”

He tsked. “You make a good point, Adeline, but that’s no fun.”

“We could attempt Caldosian variant poker,” Eiland hiccuped. “They didn’t wager for coin or chips—really, it was a fascinating byproduct of their non-monetary economy. Depending on your social class, in order to procure goods and services you might engage in a barter economy or a gift economy, which also created a disparity in the variety of good available to the common man—” Eiland trailed off. “What was I saying?”

Balor raised an eyebrow. “So you suggest we make no wagers?”

Eiland snapped his fingers, “Ah right! I was talking about poker! No, I was suggesting we go with something non-monetary. Like—” he waved his hands around “—like favors or something.”

March muttered something indecipherable, his face mushed into his brother’s bicep. “March says he’s hot,” Olric volunteered. March reached up to stroke Olric’s face.

“Shh, shh—you didn’t have to tell them that,” he slurred, before breaking into giggles. “I’m always hot. ‘S a part of bein’ a blacksmith.”

It was Balor’s turn to snap his fingers. Aryn knew that he and Eiland spent time together—but had Balor picked the habit up from Eiland, or had Eiland picked it up from Balor? “I know!” He leaned forward, and set his chin in his hands, devilish grin spreading across his face. “Has anyone played strip poker before? It’s a passing lark that people like to play in the Capital.”

Aryn flushed. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Balor draped an arm across her shoulders. “Ari, Ari, Ari. Of course it’s a good idea.” There was a strange intensity to his gaze.

“I can’t,” mumbled Celine.

“What?”

“I can’t!” Celine wailed. “My parents are right there!” She dropped her forehead against the tabletop. “I really want to play though. It sounds like fun.”

She was probably tipsy too—her cheeks had been awfully red before she’d face-planted onto the table. “We could go somewhere else?” Aryn suggested, hoping that she could pick up some water before they left and then—she might be able to sober up her friends before they went back home.

Adeline tapped her chin. “The park maybe? Near the old oak tree with the swing? It’s close enough to town that we shouldn’t get into any trouble, and still a decent ways away from where the kids are camping.”

“Sounds good to me,” Aryn shrugged.

As they left, Aryn made eye contact with Ryis, and cocked her head—a silent invitation. He shook his head, and gestured at Landen, who was leaning heavily on his shoulder. She shrugged again, and turned back toward the rest of her friends. It would have been nice for Ryis to come, but, in turn, he was too nice to leave Landen alone while drunk. She’d stop by in the morning to check in on him and tell him any embarrassing details from whatever was about to happen, she promised herself.

The night air was brisk on her face, as they made their way through the town toward the park. The clear sky sent shafts of moonlight across the paving stones, and Aryn was struck by the thought that it would be very nice to have someone’s hand in hers. There weren’t many crickets left, but the ones who lived to brave the early autumn chill were playing their hearts out in the otherwise still air. Balor’s arm brushed up against her side, and then his pinky looped through hers.

She hoped the cool air kept her from blushing. ***

They wound up in a lopsided circle in the moonshadow of the old oak tree in the park. March was splayed out on the ground with his head in Olric’s lap, snoring gently, and Olric had waved himself out of the game with a sheepish look at his brother. Eiland was doing slightly better than March, though that was partially the result of Adeline filling up his flask with water every time he wasn’t paying attention. He’d likely had about two or three flasks-worth of water, and they were clearly helping level him out.

Celine, on the other hand, kept bursting into random fits of giggles. She was lucky that she was the one sitting against the trunk of the tree, since Aryn had her doubts that she’d be able to stay upright by herself otherwise.

Balor flicked open the box of cards, and began to shuffle with practiced movements. His slender fingers and dexterous hands left the cards practically flying through the air, and if Aryn had to guess, he was showing off quite unnecessarily as he finished shuffling.

“How do we do this?” asked Adeline.

***

Things derailed quickly. It only took a half-round, actually.

Celine and Eiland were both overconfident drunks.

Olric was glancing wide-eyed between Celine and Eiland, who’d both lost their shirts, and in Eiland’s case, his cape. “I think it’s time that I take March home,” he stammered. And then he proved that his muscles weren’t just for show, as he hoisted his brother over his shoulder and booked it for their house.

“To be fair, he lasted longer than I expected him to,” said Celine. Aryn snickered, and anted up.

“Poor Olric,” said Adeline. “And March wasn’t any help.” She tossed her last few chips in the palm of her hand, weighing them, then sighed. “I’m out.”

Balor narrowed his eyes at Aryn, and dropped another round of chips in the pot. Struck by sudden burst of confidence, Aryn caught and held Balor’s eyes while she shimmied out of her shirt, and dropped it onto the pot.

Eiland wrinkled his brow. “I thought you were supposed to bet on what you’re taking off before the round ended. Or have I been doing this wrong?” He glanced mournfully at where his cape had been folded up neatly with the other stripped clothing, and shivered.

“I didn’t think it was fair that you and Celine were already shirtless,” she said, and thanked her lucky stars that she’d worn her cutest bra—despite the fact that the lace was annoying—since it was the last clean one before she did laundry the next morning. It was nice letting it dry while she was at Saturday Market.

Eiland’s eyes remained narrowed, and his brow remained wrinkled, but he didn’t say anything else.

“I’m out,” Celine sighed after looking at her cards. “I’m having terrible luck tonight.” She leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes. After a moment, she started to snore softly. “In that case—” Balor laid out his cards. A royal flush. Again. Somehow, Aryn didn’t think that it was an accident that Balor had been sent over to the Dungeons and Drama table and as far away from the poker game as possible. Damn him and his pretty hands.

She sighed, and dropped her two pair on the ground. “Another round?”

Adeline stood up as Balor started gathering cards. “I’d love to, but I’ve run out of fun-hours, and I should take Eiland home so that Elsie can laugh at him and help him sober up a bit so he’s not totally out of it tomorrow.”

Eiland frowned. “I’m fine—” he started, then Adeline pulled him to his feet. He clutched his head and groaned. “Nevermind. Lead the way.”

Ah. So it was just her and Balor. That was—fine—everything was fine. She wished that she hadn’t taken off her shirt now. The air that had been previously still stirred, and this time she couldn’t hold off her shiver. Balor had gathered up the cards, and was shuffling again.

“Another round?” he offered her. "I know there's only the two of us, but…"

“Is that all that’s on offer?” she said, and then clapped a hand to her mouth. “Wait. I don’t know why I said that.” If she hadn’t been blushing before, she certainly was now.

Balor had stopped shuffling, and his cheeks were pink. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Were you looking for more?” He was grinning now though, and her heart lurched. “You know me—I pride myself on offering all kinds of goods and services.”

His hand cupped her chin, and she looked up into iolite eyes. “I’d love to make a deal,” he continued.

She leaned in.

“After all—I’ve always had an eye for pretty things,” he breathed, and then his lips were on hers.

[dovesick]

gotta get the cleaners in (hexoween 5: sisters of the night)

[2129888]

i don't remember how i stumbled across this interview but i've never seen anyone mention it so i'm dropping it here <3 it's a little dated but still like super valuable and a decently in depth look at higuchi-sensei's previous works and how she works and thinks as a mangaka... personally i think it's the most i've ever learned from an interview of hers. super interesting stuff :0)