#not sure i really have an excuse for this other than i wanted to see noct's pretty pretty face

[amirasainz]

Oh, I'm sorry, but my ideas for Leclerc's stepsister are in my head and there are so many of them, I don't have the nerve to send them all, but... I just want her to be very different from baby Sainz, she was very independent, hardly accepted help, was a little (and sometimes a lot) shy, defiant, but at the same time for the Leclair brothers she was a princess, and their parents wanted to enjoy the fact that everything was fine

With love from CH 💜

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

- xoxo babygirl ♥️

No Part 2!

Independent, but Loved

It was a typical sunny afternoon in Monaco, and the house was alive with the sound of chatter and laughter. Yn was sitting cross-legged on the couch, her manicured nails clicking against her phone screen as she scrolled through her social media feed. The comments on her latest post were already piling up.

@queenYnislife: “She fixed her car and still looks better than me. HOW??”

@monaco_royalty: “Yn, the real princess of Monaco. Bow down, everyone.”

She smirked at the comments and tapped her nails thoughtfully against her chin. "You know," she said, her voice laced with playful sarcasm, "I should start a DIY YouTube channel. 'Fixing Cars with Yn.' I'd show everyone how to slay while being a mechanic."

From across the living room, Arthur groaned. "Yn, you didn't fix the car."

She raised an eyebrow at her 19-year-old stepbrother, her dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "Excuse me, mechanic Arthur. I literally fixed it myself. My nails were covered in grease for days!"

Lorenzo, the oldest at 25, laughed as he walked into the room, carrying a tray of drinks. "Oh, princesa, you really think that car is still the same one?"

Yn frowned. "What do you mean?"

Arthur leaned forward, unable to suppress his grin. "We got you a new car."

Her jaw dropped. "No, you didn't!"

"Yes, we did," Lorenzo confirmed with a shrug, his grin widening. "Do you honestly think you ‘fixed’ a blown engine with a wrench and some nail polish remover?"

Charles, who had just walked in after a training session, leaned against the doorway with an amused look. "To be fair, you were very convincing with your grease-smudged selfies."

Yn stared at her brothers, utterly scandalized. "Wait a second. You mean all my TikToks about ‘fixing’ the car were based on a lie?"

Arthur snorted. "Pretty much, yeah."

"You guys distracted me?" Yn accused, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at Charles.

Charles threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Guilty. But it was Lorenzo's idea!"

Lorenzo chuckled, clearly unbothered. "You deserved a better car, princesa. That old one wasn’t safe anymore."

Yn crossed her arms and pouted, her glossy lips forming a perfect little scowl. "You could have told me instead of treating me like a clueless baby."

"You're not clueless," Arthur said quickly, his tone softening. "We just wanted to make sure you were safe. You know we only do these things because we care about you, right?"

Her pout melted into a small smile. "Fine. But I'm still mad that you lied to me."

"We'll make it up to you," Charles promised. "How about dinner on me tonight? Wherever you want."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere."

Yn grinned, her previous annoyance already forgotten. "Okay, but you’re paying for dessert too."

"Deal," Charles said, ruffling her hair.

---

That evening, as they all sat around a table at Yn’s favorite restaurant, their parents, Pascal and João, joined in on the fun. Pascal raised his glass, a proud smile on his face. "To my incredible children. I love seeing how well you all take care of each other."

"Even if it means pulling off elaborate car heists," Yn teased, earning a round of laughter from everyone at the table.

João, always the peacemaker, smiled warmly at her. "They just want to make sure you're happy and safe, filha."

"I know," Yn said, her voice softening. "And I love you guys for it. But don’t think this gets you off the hook for messing with me."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Great, here we go."

Yn smirked, leaning back in her chair like the queen she was. "Just wait until I prank you back. The internet will love it."

Lorenzo groaned. "Please, no more viral chaos."

"You should know by now," Yn said with a wink, "I am chaos."

Charles sighed dramatically. "And we wouldn’t have it any other way."

As the evening went on, the teasing and laughter continued. Yn, their sarcastic and fiercely independent little sister, was their princess. And while she might never let them forget their sneaky car replacement, the love and bond between them was unshakeable.

They were, after all, family.

[puckinghischier]

Can your beautiful mind provide some domestic Christmas Quinn thoughts?

well…i have been thinking about how quinn is 100% one of those men that can’t wrap a present to save his life. so when you’re out doing some last minute shopping one day, he brings all of your presents out of their hiding spot and tries his best.

he starts out on his own, watching youtube videos and tutorials to try and make sure he measures the paper right and creases it properly. but when he ends up with several…wad-looking wrapping jobs he facetimes his mom, recruiting her as a wrapping coach.

“mom, i’ve tried so many times and i just can’t get it right. she’s told me before how much she loved wrapped presents, so i don’t want to just put them all in bags, but i don’t know if i’m going to have much of a choice at this point.”

ellen laughs at her son, pulling out her own wrapping supplies and tries to show him again. she talks him through the whole process, and when he finally wraps a present right, he’s beaming from ear to ear. she stays on the phone and coaches him through the rest of your presents as he thanks his mom over and over again for her help.

just as he’s placed the last one under the tree (the poorly wrapped ones shoved in the back) he hears the door open and in you walk with a hoard of shopping bags on each arm.

when you walk into the living room, eyes glued to the now full space under the tree, your eyes light up.

“quinn, did you wrap all of these?”

he walks over to you, taking some of the bags from your hands. “sure did. all by myself,” he beams at you.

“excuse me, your mother had a hand in this too. where’s my credit?”

you hear ellen’s voice flowing through the speaker of quinn’s phone, the device still propped up on the coffee table, surrounded by wrapping paper.

quinn’s face turns bright red, forgetting his mom was still on the phone. you look at his embarrassed state, endeared more than anything that he cared about wrapping your presents so much, he called his mom as a reinforcement.

“is that true?” he nods his head.

“well, yeah. i kinda botched the first few, and the youtube videos weren’t helping, so aside from taking them all to a store to have someone professionally wrap them for me, mom was my last shot,” he shrugged, embarrassed about the fact his lack of wrapping skills has been outed.

“q, that’s so sweet oh my god,” you gush at him, batting your eyes and bringing your hand to rest over your heart.

“really? you don’t think it’s embarrassing i don’t know how to wrap a present?”

you balk at him, rolling your eyes. “quinn, the fact you went through so much trouble to wrap them, instead of putting them in a bag like every other guy i’ve ever dated, is the sweetest thing ever. why would i care if they’re perfectly wrapped or not?”

“see, quinn! i told you she wouldn’t care if they were perfect!” you hear from his phone, both of you having now forgotten about ellen.

“yeah, quinn. listen to your mother,” you playfully scold him, walking past him so you’re in frame on his phone. “thanks, ellen. what ever would these boys do without you?” you joke with her, earning a laugh.

“oh, you know, probably bug you a lot more than they already do,” she jests back, referencing how often not only your own hughes boy calls you about needing help with finding things around the apartment, or needing you to tell him what the brand name is of that certain kind of protein powder is he likes, but how often his two brothers call you with their own questions and advice requests.

“alright, mom, thanks for your help and all, but i have all the presents wrapped and i need help her put all this stuff away now. i love you, bye,” quinn interrupts the laughter ringing out between you and his mom, picking up his phone and pressing the end call button.

“quinn, you did not just hang up on your mom,” you scold him, gasping at his actions.

“i’d had her on the phone for hours already it’s fine,” he brushes it off. “plus, i don’t think she’d want to witness what i’m about to do,” he walks towards you, pointing up to the mistletoe strung high above your head.

you look back down just as he reaches you, grabbing your face and pulling you in for a very heated kiss.

dropping the bags in your hands, he walks the two of you over to the couch, all mention of gifts and wrapping forgotten.

[hibiscusol]

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ sailor song, one. ་༘🌊࿐

masterlist ｡𖦹°‧ welcome page ｡𖦹°‧ series masterlist

── ‧₊ ᵎᵎ pairing: jj maybank x reader

── ‧₊ ᵎᵎ sypnosis: after your best friend sarah and his new pogue boyfriend get lost at sea, you find comfort in the only person who understands you. and weirdly, that person is a pogue, the jj maybank.

── ‧₊ ᵎᵎ warnings: language and mentions of alcohol

── ‧₊ ᵎᵎ author's note: yeah, this is my way of coping. i miss the man. anyways lmk if u like it or if u have any ideas for the next chapters!

────🫐────

“Oh, shit, my bad,” The blond boy whispers after colliding with you, all your books dropping to the ground. You look up and see him, the tall blond pogue rarely present at school. You nod and walk past him, not paying much attention. It wouldn’t be a good thing to be seen with him and his friends, especially after Sarah and the Routledge guy’s death.

Everybody’s going through it. The Camerons have been grieving in their… own ways. Rafe, the eldest child of the Camerons has not been seen in days. Someone said they’d seen him smoking weed in his dealer’s backyard. Guess his sister’s death made him hit rock bottom.

And as for her new pogue boyfriend, John B, no one cares. No one knew him other than his few friends, one of them being the old kook Kiara Carrera. Well, they’re like a weird cult always up to some shit. They’ve chosen their place.

The missing posters have been up for a while. No one really believes it, they couldn’t have survived a storm like that. You’ve been trying to handle it. In your room for days, thinking about the empty spaces your best friend Sarah would fill. Thinking about how she’d gotten distant the past few days. Not telling you where she was going, not telling you about the new guy. You blamed yourself for it. Maybe if you’d tried to talk to her more a few days before she died, she wouldn’t have gone with him.

When the thoughts get too loud during English class, you excuse yourself and leave. You walk through the hallways and outside the school, sitting on a nearby bench. No one said a word to you. No one said you were allowed to grief too. Like you weren’t her best friend. Were you?

You take a deep breath and look around, making sure no one saw you leave school grounds. That’s when you see him again. The blond boy.

He walks out of school as well, looking around and spotting you. He scoffs, and as much as he tries to find a way to avoid you, you’re sitting on the only bench that’s out here. He slowly walks over. “Can I sit-?” He says and you nod. “Yeah. Go ahead.” You say and look away, pulling your legs into your stomach, hugging your calves.

He sits down as far away on the bench from you as possible, taking a deep breath. A few minutes of silence go by. “I heard you were her friend.” He says, breaking the silence.

“What?” You whisper, surprised he would actually talk to you. “I said I heard you were Sarah’s best friend.” He repeats, looking at you this time. He looks… decent.

“Yeah. I was.” you say, looking away from him. “That was before your friends showed up, though.” You say and roll your eyes. He nods, his lips pressing together. 

“We didn’t do shit. She wanted to join us, so she did.” He says defensively. “Well, she got dragged into all the criminal stuff that you do. She didn’t know what type of people you were.” I say, sitting straight. I have the time today.

“John B did not kill Peterkin.” He says frowning. “Sure, he didn’t.” You say and he frowns again. “I’m being serious. He did not.”

“You think I’m just gonna believe you because you said so? What even was your name again?” I say and roll my eyes. Yes, exactly the way I imagined a pogue to be. “No, but I’m saying that you’re judging without getting to know us.” He pauses for a second, almost like he’s pondering if he should say or not. “I’m JJ. JJ Maybank.” 

Oh, JJ Maybank. With the dad. He works for your father. Or maybe worked. Poor guy was definitely an addict.

“I know your dad.” You blurt out, and the way his face falls tells you you hit a sore spot. You look away. “He… he worked for my dad.” You elaborate, looking down at your shoes. 

A few moments pass by and when you turn to look at him again, he’s off the bench, walking away. You frown, watching him walk away. Weird. Why’d he just walk away like that? 

You sigh and look ahead into the trees in front you. The back of the school where the students have done everything. A few minutes later, a voice startles you again. “Hey, sorry, I was…” 

You jump, letting out a low gasp as you sit up straighter. “What the fuck, Maybank? I thought you left and then you…” You say before he stretches his hand out, a necklace in his palm. Your eyes widen as you notice what it is. The S necklace. With Sarah’s initial on it.

“We found this at the chateau. The chateau is… um, our place, kind of. She’d left it there.” He says as you shakily take it from him.

“We didn’t force her into anything…” “Shut up, Maybank.” You say as you put the necklace around your neck. “Just… I don’t wanna hear it.”

He nods, taking a deep breath as he takes a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m just being nice, Kook.” Oh, now he’s getting sassy. You roll your eyes, unwrapping your arms from around your legs and letting your feet touch the ground as you stand up. “Yeah, well, you could’ve been nice by saving her before she was dead.” I roll my eyes as I grab my backpack, throwing it over my shoulder. You’re mad at everyone and everything. You’re mad at Sarah for leaving you here, and you’re mad at being neglected. She was your best friend. And the moment she left, suddenly she was everyone else’s. 

“Wait.” JJ’s voice cuts through your thoughts and your feel your heart ache. The few soft streams of light have found their way from in between trees and leaves onto his blond hair and blue eyes and you take a deep breath, mentally shaking yourself. Stop.

“We both lost our best friends. If there’s anyone who knows what you’re going through, it’s me. Yeah, I don’t like you and you don’t like me. But… be decent.” He nods, as if he wants you to agree. Your hands tighten on the straps on your backpack and you nod after a second. “I… Yeah. Sure. I… I’m Y/N.”

“Yeah, okay.” He nods, running a hand through his hair. “I know who you are.”

You tear your gaze away from him and take deep breaths until you get inside. The moment you get inside the school bathroom, tears are rolling down your face and you let out quiet sobs, turning to the bathroom and kicking a bathroom door open, walking in and locking door. Her necklace around your neck feels like it’s choking you, and you press your palms against your temples, tears running down your cheeks and neck.

How long is it gonna feel like this?

────🫐────

[pickinglilahs]

Okay, let's unpack this response here

TL;DR: 'weak and surface' level is exactly how I would describe prevs "obliteration". I'm not convinced THEY read the books. Or maybe they're just another TERF, considering that's how it reads. I completely disagree with Harry naming his kid after Snape. The ONLY explanation I can think for it is that JKR has no idea what love is (which is also cannon, as far as I'm concerned)

First: idk what book this person read, but Snape's obsession with Lily was creepy to the extreme. That their friendship started by him all but stalking her and Petunia should have been red flag #1. I mean, sure, he was a traumatized kid without friends, but that doesn't absolve him of his continued obsession. He literally stood outside the Gryffindor common room, refusing to leave, until she came out to talk.

And yeah, he did switch sides out of guilt. But he canonically didn't give a damn about Harry. If he was actually trying to protect the kid, he would have done more than bully and abuse (occlumency lessons anyone?) the kid. Teaching at Hogwarts was never about redemption. It was about staying out of Azkaban. (And Dumbledore's manipulation, but he's a whole 'nother can of worms)

Second: the books actually say that Snape was 'up to his nose in the dark arts'. He was an active participant. He didn't just 'hang out' with to-be-DE, he WAS one. He joined up of his own free will. He became Voldemort's RIGHT HAND. He didn't regret calling someone a mudbl***. He regretted that it was Lily.

And Snape CANONICALLY attacked the marauders just as much as they went after him. Just because they went after him first in that ONE memory, doesn't mean he didn't instigate too.

And let's talk about the werewolf incident for a minute because i am sick and tired of Snape Apologists using this as an excuse. That was NOT planned. That was a lapse of judgement on Sirius' part alone (yeah, fucked to hell and he is fully responsible for that). At the same time though, NO ONE MADE HIM GO. Snape was given a vague instruction and he was so focused on 'getting back' at the marauders that he put HIMSELF in danger. That is just as much on him as it is on Sirius.

Then the sexual assault? This is another common thing I see and it took me forever to figure out what it was even referring to. The pantsing? You cannot tell me he was the only one that happened to. If the levitating spell was really as popular as it's stated, this incident wasn't special. I'm willing to bet Snape did it to others too.

Third: Lupin not taking the wolfsbane. Yes, serious lapse in judgement. He also just saw Peter and Sirius on the map. The argument of it being criminal and a ticking time bomb is honestly werewolf prejudice and exactly why Remus has such a hard time finding a job in the first place. Way to go. You've discovered discrimination.

Fourth: Get McGonagall's name out of your fucking mouth. She is CANONICALLY shown NOT showing prejudice and treating EVERYONE by the same standards. And, did you forget that 'Moody' here was actually a death eater in disguise? No duh he's using cruel and unusual punishments??? Full of abusive teachers my ass.

Fifth: What do you mean the kids weren't scared for life? I do believe those CHILDREN will carry that trauma with them for the rest of their lives. Saying that it didn't break them is cruel and completely dismisses the VERY REAL pain and suffering that they went through. They are real heroes because they OVERCAME their trials. Not all of us out here in the real world are so lucky.

Lastly: yes, comparing CHILDREN who DID see the error of their ways to an ADULT who had to be CONNED into doing the right thing is laughable.

And saying Regulus accomplished nothing? Disgraceful. Of course it took a catalyst for him to change his ways thats how redemption arcs work.

If you made it this far, I hope you have a good day. Believe whatever you want, obvy I'm not going to change anyone's opinion. You can't MAKE a person understand. Still, it's nice to rant and remind myself how nice it is that I live in my own little corner of the fandom where I don't have to see this bullshit on my dash

okay, hold my drink *hands u cursed ancient goblet full of mead* i gotta talk my shit for a second.

ive been seeing a lot of severus snape love recently. and this is fine, obviously, y'all can love whomever you want. but. i need to rant or i will explode. if we're talking about canon. severus snape spends his adult years, seven books of it in fact, abusing children. and his excuse for this is the girl he loved (tho not enough not to join a group actively trying to exterminate her) fell for the hot jock instead of him (a tragedy indeed, i weep 4 him, i really do). and also she died, which, admittedly is very sad.

it is simply crazy 2 me 2 look at that and think *romance* or *genuine care and affection*. LIKE. fo real. snape calls her a slur in public, apologizes in private, hangs out with dudes who commit hate crimes against her friends (CANONICALLY, she says "you've been hanging out with that douchebag Mulciber, how could you do that after what he did to Mary???" this is not a direct quote but like, it's close enough). lame. loser behaviour.

"Oh but what about regulus" i can hear you say "he loves James potter but snape doesn't love lily???" well. idk. maybe. bit different tho, innit? due to james not being the demographic regulus is attacking (which doesn't make regulus a better person but does make the dynamic between him and james different). ALSO. Regulus chooses to turn against voldemort without hope for anything in return. snape doesn't seem to give a shit about voldemort, he's just sad he's not gonna get to bang lily evans. he switches sides for that reason alone. also doesn't care about what happens to her husband or her son which like. considering lily would be pretty fucking destroyed if they died. once again points to my whole, he doesn't really give a shit about her, theory. lame. loser. behaviour.

also. im sorry. I"M SORRY. but what snape does to neville? to hermione? to harry? gross. a grown ass man out here telling an eleven year old neville he's worthless or hermione she's ugly and annoying. or spilling harry's potion and refusing to grade him for it???????????????

reg and draco are children when we see them at peak suckage and therefore they feel like they can be redeemed much more compellingly (CAN be, not SHOULD be, not HAVE to be, just narratively i think they are easier to turn into interesting, sympathetic characters). but snape? snape grows up into a garbage adult. like he doesn't get better. and again, the only real excuse we're given is his obsession with lily. not very demure. not very cutesy.

ALSO. yall remember that time he got a destitute, struggling Remus Lupin fired from the best job he ever had just because he felt like it? remember that time snape weaponized Remus's lycanthropy and people's prejudice against him just cause. like. literally just cause??? his ego was bruised after the shrieking shack incident so he was like "get wrecked Lupin I'm going to tell everyone your secret so you will be forced back out onto the streets" DO YALL REMEMBER THAT BITCH ASS MOVE????????? THAT HE DID AS A FULL ADULT.

IN CONCLUSION, this is silly and, of course, like i said at the start, everyone can have their own thoughts and feelings about characters, but i simply needed to interject here on behalf of snape haters everywhere because i feel like so much of snape's shitty behaviour as an adult during a time when he was really under no duress and was very safe and cozy, is ignored. and my hater heart just cannot let that stand.

[hxlxnaaa]

can i pretty please have the extended version of what happens in zaynes exclusive tutorial……. asking for a friend……..

ⁱ ᵃᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ….

𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥

★ synopsis: an extended version of zaynes exclusive tutorial 5-star ;)

★ character: zayne

★ cw: first person pov, quickie SMUT!!!!, a lot of the dialogue is just taken from the card

★ word count: 3.5k

★ a/n: i literally have not wrote smut since i was at least 13...i lowkey blacked out writing this so if it sucks i'm so sorry. it was good practice though so ty for the request!

Internally, I was dreading this. As a Deepspace Hunter, low-key yet high end, relaxed events were not something I was accustomed to. While it was a nice change from the chaotic atmosphere of my own work, I couldn’t help but worry I may embarrass myself.

When Zayne first invited me, I was a bit surprised he’d ask me of all people. I was sure the man was convinced I’d, at some point during the night, make a fool of him and myself. Though I was pleased he thought of me, and honored to be chosen, it put the stakes of the night higher.

I tried to make myself as fancy as possible, without overdoing it, because I was convinced these people would know I was trying too hard. I mean, they were all top med school alumnus who probably made more in a day than I made in a year.

Walking in with Zayne, the club lighting was low with soft jazz playing in the background. I scanned the perimeter, and observed the people around. Nearly everyone had brought a companion, and I smirked to myself. Mentioning I could tell why he brought me along, I gestured for him to lean down to my level.

“Did you feel left out because everyone else brought someone? Is that why?”

Zayne looked back at me, “Yes. It’s why I invited you.”

“Lame… I thought you’d make up an excuse and deny it.

Bantering with him for a second, one of his classmates approached us. The two make small talk with each other, when the man finally introduces himself as Steven to me, reaching out for a handshake. Before I can even respond, Zayne quickly grabs my hand instead.

“Let’s find a place to sit down and talk.”

-

Sitting at the bar with Zayne and his classmates, I get to finally turn off my brain and just listen. All of them go on and boast about him, Steven particularly going on about his pool skills. Zayne sits comfortably with the attention, and it’s safe to assume he’s well accustomed to being the center of it all; though it didn’t last when I quickly caught his eye, as he gave me a helpless look.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” He whispered to me, an edge to his voice that was practically begging me to get him out and away from these people.

Zayne grabs his drink, assuming I was going to agree, and I stop him. He gives me a confused look as I turn my body to fully face him. Deciding to have some fun, the drinks I’ve had giving me some liquid courage-

“I haven’t seen Dr. Zayne play pool either… Is he really that good?” I smiled at him.

He pauses, lips forming into a tight line, “Ah, so you’re ganging up on me.”

I was pushing the right buttons.

While another classmate comes up to Zayne, doting all over him like the others, as he goes on about “hands on learning” with him.

I smirk inwardly, taking a sip out of my wine glass. Oh yeah, I thought to myself, I’m gonna use that one.

After the man leaves, Zayne playfully pinches my ear, “I could see you eavesdropping from a mile away, did you find anything interesting?”

I looked up at him through my eyelashes, “I heard…” Pretending to think for a second, I looked around the room, then back at him, “you’re incredibly considerate to your juniors and are highly respected by everyone, Dr. Zayne”

He sighs, looking away, clearly unsatisfied with my answer. “I guess you can be nice…” I tapped his shoulder.

Zayne raises an eyebrow, “You guess? Do I not treat you well?”

Shrugging, I shake my head and raise my hands, feigning innocence, “It’s hard to say…” I take another sip out of my glass. “You never did any ‘hands-on’ learning with me.” Sticking out my lower lip in a pout, “And everyone says it’s an honor to be taught by you, sir…”

Putting down my wine glass, I sigh, “I wonder when I’ll get to experience it…”

“It seems you truly do want to learn about surgeries.” Zayne retorts.

“Who says it has to be for work?”

He looks at me, almost startled.

“Follow me.”

-

On the club's second floor, the billiard hall is tucked away, secret, and empty.

Perfect.

Walking forward, I circle around one of the pool tables.

“Why are we playing pool all of a sudden?” Zayne asks from behind me.

I flip my hair and look at him over my shoulder, “Because I wanna learn from you of course. Dr. Steven was praising your pool skills, but you’ve never mentioned them before.” I pushed my back to the table, leaning back on my hands.

Zayne walks up to me, “He was drunk and just rambling.”

“Oh? He said you were really good…” Cocking my head to the side to look at him, he stared back at me with intent, “Like a professional.”

“Maybe because a surgeon has steady hands.”

“Then-” I stood up straight again, crossing my arms and smiling sweetly, “it’d be nice if I could get some tips from you.”

“While I can’t give any tips per se, we can play.” He looks at me and smiles back, “If you want.”

Picking out two cue sticks, handing me the shorter one, he walks to one of the tables in the corner, “Have you played before?”

“Once or twice. People say I have potential,” Zayne raises a brow at my confidence, “but I ‘can play’.”

“Are you gonna be strict with me, sir?” I playfully swing around the cue stick. Zayne crosses his arms, leaning into me, “Strict teachers make outstanding students.” He states, “Let’s start.”

Gesturing for me to go, I lean over the table, feeling his eyes boring into me. I hold my breath as I hit the ball, the only sound in the room the echoes of the balls scattering.

Zayne chuckles under his breath, and I look back at him, “Did I do something wrong, sir?”

“You have more than enough strength. If you adjust your posture, you’ll see better results.”

“I need you to help me identify my weak spots via ‘hands-on learning’, sir.”

I watch as his facade begins to crumble a bit, before he quickly regains himself, “We’ll have to work on your posture then.”

Coming up next to me, I stand up straight as he leans down over the table, “Like this. Place your right foot back…” He strikes, graceful as ever. When I try, I look like a klutz.

Bent over the table, he comes up behind me. “Relax,” He whispers, “you’re too tense.” He places his hand on my back, and almost as a reflex to his touch, my waist immediately bends. “Now you’re too relaxed.” He clicks his tongue as I become jelly under his touch.

“Relax your left arm. Allow it to bend naturally.” His arm snakes up under mine, “Your head, right arm, and the cue stick should form a straight line.”

He places his hand softly on my cheek, shifting my head to the left, “How is it?”

“It,” I winced at the uncomfortable position, “hurts a little.”

I hear him smile, “That means it’s correct.”

Making a face, I try to give him my most pitiful look.

“You’re so harsh, sir.”

He grabs my chin, making me face the table again. The gesture makes me gasp.

“Don’t tilt your head.” Zayne remarks, “You messed up your posture again.”

“Is there an easier way? Like something I can do without much trouble?”

“Yes, but are you sure you want to do it?”

I groan, my body feeling stiff from holding this pose for so long, “Bring it on.”

I feel him shift from beside me, “Don’t move for now.”

Zayne comes up behind me, positioning himself where his chest is flush against my back. Reaching his arms around me, one of his hands comes up to grab mine. Lowering his head, I feel his breath on my neck as his lips settle next to my ear, “Your rhythm with the cue stick…isn’t quite there yet.” My eyelids flutter closed at his voice, “You need more hands-on training.”

He directs me carefully, “You should neither be too fast nor too hesitant.” His words sound distant as all I can focus on is the feeling of his body pressed against mine, as heat spreads in between my thighs.

My hand is enveloped in his, and the back and forth motion of the cue stick slows down, “Move the cue stick three or four times..” He instructs, everything about this feeling overwhelmingly provocative, “Stop at the point closest to the ball…”

“Did you get that?” He whispered, turning his head away from the pool table to face mine.

“Yeah…” Was all I could muster back.

Softly smirking, he turned back to follow my vision, “Keep your eyes on the ball, one…two…three…” I think I may actually combust if he keeps this up.

“Stop, and pull back the cue stick.”

He loosens his grip on me, “Snap out of it. Are you even listening to me?”

No, not really Zayne. I can really only focus on not grinding back into you right now.

“Ah yes,” I cough, “Pull back the stick…”

“Very good, just like that…” I bite back a whimper and the urge to rub my legs together at his praise, he knows good and well what he’s doing.

“Now…strike.”

I hit the ball, and when it goes in I snap out of whatever hypnotic haze I was in.

“It’s in!”

Zayne pulls back, and I stand up straight, placing my hands on my hips. “Did you see that? It was a great shot! I’m so cool…” Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I flash him a smile.

“I did.” He smiles warmly back, “You’re not a total beginner.”

“Maybe it’s because I practice shooting all the time. Or, it’s possible I’m a prodigy…” I started regaining my confidence after it had ever so slowly faltered on the pool table.

“Perhaps.” Zayne shrugs, “To be honest, all you need to be good at pool is…”

He leans over the edge of the table, looking over at me. My breath hitches at the sight.

“A steady hand, precision, and a calm attitude.” His eyes bore into mine, “Once you’ve locked into your target, don’t let go.”

I swallowed. Even though he was clearly talking about the ball, it felt oddly personal.

He has me play a bit more, teaching me as I go. I easily earn his praises and they ring like music in my ears.

“If a student does a good job,” I remind him, “shouldn’t they get a reward?”

He considers it for a second, “What do you want?”

Confidence bubbling up again inside of me, I sigh dramatically. “Well, it might be difficult to hit this next ball. Help me.”

“Is that all?” Zayne asks, clearly not convinced. Pausing before coming to help me, I give him a smug look, “What’s wrong Dr. Zayne? Are you scared?”

I was pushing my luck, and loving every second of it.

He frowned, “Provocation doesn’t work on me.”

“Then come here.” I nodded toward the pool table, giving him a sweet smile.

Zayne inches towards me, only moving slightly closer.

“Closer.” I demand, “Or else I can’t reach it.”

He gives me a confused look, “What exactly…”

I grab him by the collar, pushing him back onto the table. Zaynes cheeks turn pink as he stares up at me with a shocked expression. Lips slightly agape, I can see a million thoughts running behind his eyes. The dumbfounded look on his face makes me want to take him on the table right now.

“Look,” I pout, “the ball’s so far away. I think it’s time to use a cue rest.”

I tap the cue stick on each side of his head. Zayne narrows his eyes at me, “Using cue rests would be overkill.” He sits up, and I use the stick to slowly tug out his tie, “And this,” he glares, “is inappropriate.”

Though he feigns annoyance, the look in his eyes is a dead giveaway.

“But…” I pull the stick away leaning towards him, my breath dusting his ear, “I think you’re enjoying it…” He looks down and away at the table, clearly embarrassed, “I shouldn't have taught you so much” he mutters.

Running my fingers through his dark hair, I slowly tease my hand down his body, caressing his face, down to his chest, down to where I see where he’s aching for me to touch the most. I coo at him when I see the desperate look in his eyes, and quickly snap my hand away before I reach the bulge growing in his nice slacks.

Zaynes face is red hot as he sits up on the table enough that he’s eye level with me, “Who taught you to use your teacher as a cue rest…” he frowns.

“Well,” I place my hand on his chest over his heart, “this cue rests heartbeat is going to ruin my accuracy.” I tut.

“Is it my heartbeat affecting your accuracy, or yours?” His hand comes up to caress my cheek, “If you actually want to learn, I can show you another way…”

Zayne leans in, lips almost to mine before I grab his shoulder and push him back. He looks at me, wide eyed at the denial.

“Sir, this seems to be lacking professionalism.” Crossing my arms across my chest, his lips curve at my attempt to scold him.

“Weren’t you just using me as a cue rest?” He leans back in, “Talking about professionalism… is a bit too late.”

As he grabs me by my waist, I push him back onto the table again as a reply. The gesture only lasts a few seconds before Zayne smiles at me, quickly sitting up and using his hand around my waist to reverse us; flipping me onto my back and onto the table, he settled in between my legs. I squeak at the sudden change, as he now hovers over me, my head caged between his arms.

“Why don’t you let me show you…” Zayne pulls back, standing up straight. He grabs his cue stick, “Watch closely, I’m only going to do it once.”

Pushing his chest against mine, he goes for the ball right behind my head. His head hovers right above my face, and I lean up to place a kiss on his adams apple right as he strikes the ball. I have half a mind to bite into his neck, but he quickly stands back up as he watches the ball go in.

He looks down at me, and I’m sure I look utterly disheveled. From where he stood in between my thighs, my dress had ridden up high enough that every inch of my bottom half was almost on display for him to see. My hair was splayed out around me on the table, and my chest heaved with the breath I was so desperately trying to catch.

The sexual tension that had slowly built up throughout the night was now thick enough to cut with a knife. Smiling softly, Zayne tilts my chin up, caressing my jaw as his thumb slowly parted my lips, dipping it past my teeth and pressing it against my tongue. “Pretty little mouth…” he mutters, staring at the way his finger sits in between my lips. I look up at him through half-lidded eyes, sucking down on his thumb.

He frowns, “Always such a tease.” Zayne sighs, picking up my ankle, pressing a kiss to it. I craved his lips on mine, but I always enjoyed the shows he’d put on for me. He continued to kiss up my calf, closing his eyes as he felt my skin against his lips.

“Zayne.” I demanded, and he looked at me annoyed, as if I was interrupting something.

“Yes?”

“Kiss me…”

He leaned down, nose brushing against mine, but not meeting my lips. I pushed myself up, trying to connect us, but he pulled away at the last second. Frustrated and tired of his games, I grabbed Zayne by his tie, crashing my lips against his, pulling him down on top of me onto the table.

“Behave.” He groaned as I took his bottom lip in my teeth, tugging softly. Grabbing my wrists with his hand, he pinned them above my head. Zayne’s free hand roamed up my thigh, fingers dusting over the place I was praying for him to touch the most.

I squirmed under him as he toyed with the lace on my panties, never dipping his fingers past. His grip on my wrists tightened, lips leaving mine so our eyes could meet. Waves of lust crashed in his green eyes.

“What do you want?” His lips kissed down my neck and chest.

“You to touch me.” I whimpered.

He tsked, “Beg.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me. Or do I need to teach you how to do that too?” Zayne nipped at my collarbone, then kissed the skin.

“Please…”

“What was that?”

“Please, Zayne.” Everytime I said please, his fingers inched closer to the arousal pooling in between my thighs, “Zayne, please, please, fuck, please.”

I felt him smile against my skin, and he dipped a finger inside of me.

Clenching around him, I moaned at the satisfaction.

Zayne groaned, “God, you’re so wet. You’ve been eager all night…” Pumping in and out, I stifled my whimpers and moans against his shoulder. He let go of my wrists, and my hands flew to his collar, gripping for dear life as he added another finger.

Tracing his thumb on my clit, two fingers curling up inside of me, Zayne always knew just how to make me come undone. He could get off on this alone, watching me fall apart underneath him by just his hands. I was seeing stars, thinking nothing could get better than this.

Zayne pulled away, and I cried out at the emptiness. He stood there for a second, just taking all of me in, “You’re so beautiful.” He took off his tie, gently grabbing me by the back of my head and lifting it up so he could tie the fabric around my mouth as a makeshift gag.

“As much as I love to listen to you, I don’t want anybody else to hear. Is that all right?”

I nodded at him and he smiled, petting my cheek, “Good girl.”

Reaching forward, I palmed his hard on through his nice, business slacks. The idea of them being around his ankles as he takes me on this table was enough to almost make me cry from joy. Sighing at the friction, Zaynes eyes fluttered closed, and I worked my hand up and undid his belt. Getting too eager, he freed himself, and slid my panties down to where they loosely dangled off one of my heels.

“I wish I could take my time with you,” He pressed his tip against my opening, “but this will have to do.” Sinking all the way down to the hilt, I choked out a muffled scream, squeezing my eyes shut as the tie killed my lewd noises.

Zayne grabbed my chin, fingers digging into my skin, “Eyes open.” He demanded, pulling out, and slamming back in, “Keep looking.”

Already overwhelmed from the stimulation he provided earlier, tears welled up in my eyes from just how good all of it felt. The impossibly delicious way he could fill me up, lips dancing across my skin as he chased after his own pleasure. His hand gripping into my hips, most likely leaving bruises, as he drilled into me; kissing my palm before biting into the skin to muffle his own groans.

Zayne’s skin glistened with sweat, the top buttons of his shirt undone, his lips red and swollen from my aggressions. He railed into me like a maniac, like he was fucking starving. Gracefully, his hand found its way back in between my thighs, finding the bundle of pleasure that made me cry out. At the feeling I blinked out tears, my eyes burning from the mascara I was practically sobbing away. I was moments away from ruining this table beneath me, and Zayne knew that.

He grabbed my neck, almost as if for stability as he picked up his pace. Desperately rolling his hips against mine, I clenched down around him “Just.. like that, oh... God." He moaned. I lifted my hips up to meet his thrusts, trying to chase my own release and his. Zayne looked me in the eyes, squeezing the hand around my neck, “My girl. Mine.” He groaned.

With one last thrust and his praise, I was screaming behind the tie, shaking from my release beneath him. Digging my nails into his biceps, his hips stuttered, and with a moan he pulled out, finishing all over my nice dress.

Zayne nearly collapsed on top of me as we laid there for a while, just soaking in the aftermath. As he pulled away, I watched him cringe at the mess he had left on me. For some reason, I started laughing.

“What’s that for?” He questioned.

I continued to giggle, “I didn’t know you were that good at pool…”

“If we had more time, I’d show you more of my techniques…”

Slapping him on the shoulder, I sat up, and he swept me off the table and back onto my feet. Brushing my hair with his fingers, he attempted to wipe away the mascara stains on my cheeks. “I know the back way out of here,” He pressed a kiss to my temple.

(divider by cafekitsune)

[muddyorbsblr]

team loki pt1

See my full list of works here!

inspired by this TikTok POV

Summary: Thor poses a question that puts you in an uncomfortable situation, and causing you to give him a desperate and thinly-veiled half truth

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warning/s: one (1) cuss word (nope, not sorry, Rogers); other than that…none? i think? this is mostly fluff with a side of slight angst?

Things to be aware of: mutual pining, idiots in love, Thor being a himbo

"Lady Y/N, may I ask a rather…personal question?"

You made sure to shut your Kindle before you looked up at Thor, bracing yourself for whatever the god of thunder might throw your way. However, nothing could have prepared you for the next words that came out of his unnecessarily nosy mouth.

"Are you in courtship with my brother?"

The common area filled with the sound of your sputtering bumbling reaction, as well as the borderline derisive laugh from Loki, who sat beside you. In fact the question caught him so off guard that he'd carelessly slammed his book shut.

"Are you out of your mind?!" you blurted out just as the raven haired god said, "Brother, don't be absurd."

Bitch please, only in my dreams, you finished in the safety of your mind. He could do so much better than me and he probably knows it.

What you didn't know is that Loki kept quiet his own sentiment. I should only be so fortunate. Every shake of your head and flippant denial felt like a dagger burrowing deeper into his heart.

"We're friends, Thunder," you answered, again biting back the words of Of course I'd love to be more, but that's neither here nor there. "That's it and that's all."

"I see…" Thor replied, the fond smile growing on his face putting both you and his brother in discomfort. "I'm glad."

"Excuse me?" you managed to croak out despite the lump that suddenly formed in your throat.

"Well if my brother is not what you fancy then that could only mean--"

"Whoa whoa whoa hold on there, buddy," you stopped him before he could even think of finishing the sentence. "I'm not into you like that, can you believe this doofus?" You looked to the god seated beside you, who surprisingly seemed even more tense than you were.

Jaw tense, eyes slightly squinted as he assessed the blond seated across from you. His entire body language suggested he was readying himself for a fight, which had you confused to no end. What stake did he have in this situation?

"Lady Y/N, I am no 'doofus', I promise you that," Thor said haughtily, shifting his posture to puff his chest out. "I will have you know that back in Asgard many a--"

"Well you're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy," you quipped. "I know you're gonna find it hard to get through that thick skull of yours, but not every woman with a pulse here wants to throw themselves at you pussy first. This isn't Asgard. And some people just like…different things."

You didn't dare even sneak a glance at the god of mischief beside you. But if you had, you would have seen that for a split second, his face lit up at your words. That for even a fleeting moment, he felt a glimmer of hope that perhaps because your fancies didn't lean towards his blond oaf of a brother, then there was even the slightest plausibility that he had a fighting chance to capture your attentions.

"Does that mean that you prefer…urgh what was it that Stark said about these unnecessary pedantic terms?" the blond Asgardian sighed. "Something about teams…?"

Your hand slapped down on the sofa, and you let out a frustrated groan. If he kept on prodding it wouldn't take long before he'd circle back to his brother and both of them would figure it out in record time. "Fine, Thor," you said, exasperated, throwing your hands in the air. "Yes. Not that it's any of your goddamn business, but yes. I am on the other team."

You really were. In a way. Just not in the way that Stark probably meant, considering that the billionaire genius didn't spend all that much time on social media these days.

So there was no way for him, or most of your teammates really, to know that the "teams" you were referring to were actually "Team Thor" or "Team Loki". Yes, the Internet was a messed up place that you wouldn't ever bother to understand at your fully grown age, but sometimes one of its considerably saner corners were mildly entertaining.

And in this case, that corner managed to wiggle you out of a near "egg on your face" situation.

"In that case, I hope you'll accept my sincerest apologies, Lady Y/N. For breaching on your privacy so--"

"Ham-fisted?" Loki spoke up, the slightest sneer still on his face. "As you always are?"

"Yes," he murmured. "Precisely. I hope this does not affect our friendship irreparably."

"Awww Thunder, of course it won't," you said with a click of your tongue, slightly feeling sorry for the goof that currently looked like a human embodiment of "sad wet dog". "Just give it a few weeks for that awkwardness to go away…because buddy you got me real worried there."

You stood up to take your leave from the common area, wanting nothing more than to get a drink and try to put all memories of the exchange behind you. Maybe if you acted fast you could hack your brain into not having to hold on to the trauma of watching how Loki's face curled up in disgust over even the thought of you two being perceived as a couple.

"Ohh! Lady Y/N, I distinctly remember that Lady Olivia in Research is also--"

"Appreciate the offer to wingman, Thor, but I'm all good, thanks!" you said over your shoulder, walking even faster to get out of there and return to your apartment.

Once you were out of earshot, Loki turned to his brother, conjuring a dagger in his hand pointed at the oaf. "What in the Nine was that, Brother?" he nearly hissed the last word. "This will be the last time I ever make the mistake of confiding in you who it is I wish to court. Norns, you cannot even help yourself, can you? Your ego is as fragile as rice paper that you have to prove that somehow everyone I ever set my sights on will prefer you."

"Loki, I--"

"Well in this rather unfortunate and might I say humiliating turn of events, at least I have been granted the fleeting consolation that she prefers neither of us. Perhaps I can derive some form of happiness from that--"

"Brother, I apologize," Thor blurted out. "I did not set out on this foolish endeavor of mine to scorn you and thieve away Lady Y/N's affections for myself. Though now I do understand how my actions may not translate consistently with my intent."

"No, no they really hadn't, you oaf."

"At the risk of my friendship with Lady Y/N, I posed those questions in hopes that perhaps she would have shown some inkling that your desire to have your friendship become something more was…reciprocated," he confessed. There was a somber look on his face as he continued on, "I truly am sorry for not bringing forth a more desirable outcome."

Loki stewed in his seat. He'd never known his brother to express even the most minute trace of allegiance to him in their youth. "All the others," he said accusingly. "When we were in Asgard, you consistently stole them away, why am I to believe that this time was different?"

"Brother, I know you may not believe me now, but please hear me when I tell you this. Those actions were not done out of greed. They were a test of loyalty. Theirs. To you. And each and every one failed," Thor explained somberly.

Just before he could let out a barb that in your case, the only failure was his own, the sounds of junior SHIELD agents' voices floated into the common area. "Look Sierra I get it, okay? We can all have different tastes and like different people, but we can also be wrong about some things. Like honestly after everything we've seen both of them do with our own damn peepers, how can you not be Team Thor?"

"I don't have to explain my choice in men to you, Ellie," the second agent spoke. "Besides you've always known that I like brunettes and I prefer the color gree--Ohh hey, you two!" The area filled with the grating sound of their heeled boots squeaking on the floor as their steps halted upon seeing the Asgardian brothers still seated on the couch.

"Ladies," Thor addressed them with a wide grin and a wave. Both women scampered off in the opposite direction, audibly flustered before they returned to their conversation.

Loki could pay them no mind, however, for their exchange suddenly gave new meaning to your words from earlier. "I am on the other team," he quoted you. When he looked up at his brother, it seemed the blond had come to the same realization, his face lit up with excitement as he stood to take his leave.

"It seems Lady Y/N has passed my ham-fisted test after all," he said triumphantly, clapping a hand down on his brother's shoulder. "Your lady."

Manners and decorum were the furthest thing from the god of mischief's mind as he stood abruptly, shrugging off his brother's hand. "I have somewhere to be," he mumbled, his mind racing with endless scenarios of how he would go about seducing you. Of where and when and how it would commence. If he should shower you with gifts, or perhaps whisk you away to one of Midgard's more picturesque destinations to create a breathtaking backdrop to his confession.

To the consummation of your affections for one another.

But then images of your features when you both brushed off Thor's prodding questions flashed through his mind, particularly the way you winced and squinted your eyes when he'd told his brother to not be absurd. And he knew that the only right scenario would be no tricks, no illusions. To come to you here and now.

He'd waited long enough. You both had.

A/N: Merry Christmas, everybody! This is yet another one of those ideas I had where I kept on shaking my brain hoping for some loose change in the form of ideas on how to get to my next story point, before ultimately realizing that this needed to be a 2-parter. Though who knows when part 2 will be posted because as my Discord status says, I am forever ✨drowning in a sea of WIPs✨ But just know that I'm fully intending for part 2 to be mostly some smuttery between these two 🤭

This might be my last story for 2024, but let's see where the final week of the year takes me. Anyways, I hope y'all have an amazing holiday with your families, I'm going back to working on 'the gallery™️'

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814

[shut-up-rabert]

Further, let me add that the points of OP are very valid on this regard. I have seen some chigmas justify rape by this logic and saying that men should stop supporting women victims of all this because some of them were justifying Atul's wife.

Like they did not see how many women supported this cause, as much as the men. It's just an excuse to vent out the internalised misogyny.

I've said it multiple times and I'll say it again, the reason that movement for men have never really caught traction in India is simply because that to a lot of sigma males make them about hating women then doing anything for men suffering.

That is made very evident when tweets and insta comments and even news interviews of this kind came up. They hate women, because they do not see women as equals. They are either objects of use or something they have to conquer. Atul Subhash is just an excuse and not a very real person.

The discourse on alimony is bullshit in a very particular way that it clearly disregards women who were homemakers or earned marginally before separation. If she cannot sustain herself, then of course her once husband, who she was dependent on her survival for, should do it. This is a desperate situation afterall.

At the sane time, if the wife earns a satiate or even higher income than him, I do not see the point of him giving alimony. Why would a man have to pay for a woman who is legally unrelated to him and not dependent on him for survival since past or even now? What right us she exercising on income of a man who isn't longer hers?

I personally see this as very embarrassing and demeaning to rely on a man with whom a relationship of love and trust has ended, when you are a well earning woman. Pretty anti feminist from what I see.

Furthermore, let me tell you as a law student, that the guy tweeting about laws favouring women was very right.

Alimony always has to be rational. Supreme Court and various HCs have laid that down several times that you can only have a Reasonable amount as a wife and that a husband cannot be squeezed out of every penny, or even most of his income because surprise surprise, he has the right to his earnings. We do not see that being followed here.

How many laws have you seen about male sexual assault? About male DV victims even though they are 1/3rd of all victims? None I'm sure. Wanna know why?

When the JC Verma Comittee in 2013 came up with more stringent laws regarding rape, they added the recommendation to make rape a gender neutral offence. That recommendation never became anything concrete because feminist groups protested heavily to keep rape gender specific.

There were certain women who rallied to keep men outside the scope of justice in something as heinous as rape, and they were priortised over literal rape victims. So yes, law is pretty gender biased in India.

Western nations recognise that men can be victims to DV and SA, we on the other hand don't.

Also, he is right about laws being misused. In my internships I came across this basic template of DV cases that so many fake cases seem to be using. How do I know those were fake? Because the police investigation following the reports proved that they were without evidence and some actually had counter evidence.

Crime against women are pretty under reported in India. This is again because of what the tweet said; societal pressure on women. A majority of DV cases are not reported (as many as 80%+). It is suspected that as many as 90%+ cases of rape are under reported because women are pressurise, ostracized and labelled impure for being raped or not cohabiting with her husband who is abusive. They want her to keep it hush hush because it all comes down to her virginity and sexuality.

Accept it or not, those numbers speak for themselves and we know why it happens, because a majority of backward and even some "developed" Indians have their minds in gutter when it comes to women.

But but but, if you look at the stats, the number of cases reported of rape and DV are pretty decent. Why is that?

Well, that is because roughly half of them are fake. It can be more than half sometimes, sometimes less, but that is the rough estimate.

Who do you think are making up these numbers when some people cannot even register real cases? Again, that guy is right. Women who are privileged enough to not be judged, or do not care of it due to the intense hatred for their in laws. Many a times their families are in on their malpractices.

These people are the reason so many innocent men and their families are traumatized for life, and why so many innocent women, especially those who come from upper class/urban families or those considered "modern" are not believed.

That guy is spot on in everything he said.

Finally, lets not put the specifics of the Atul case aside. Nobody should be allowed to be ignorant of Atul case when it comes to this discourse. Because that shows you the limitations of alimony need to be laid, and brings out the reality of the fact that law and courts do in fact prefer women and that this fact is misused to squeeze men at the brink of death and sometimes beyond.

An Indian man recently committed suicide because of a demand of alimony from his wife who wanted to divorce him. But the specifics of the case and the demand of alimony being valid aside, the common reaction of the Indian man has been insane and I wanted to share some of it here. I need feminists here to please read this and spread this around.

For context: dowry is (mostly) a Hindu Indian system in marriage whereby the bride’s family gives a certain amount of material possessions as a “gift” to the bridegroom’s family. In India, even now, marriage is explicitly or implicitly considered “marriage of two families” rather than “marriage of two individuals”. But dowry deaths often result from the in-laws perceiving the dowry to be less or it not existing because the woman is poorer or easy to exploit. In many cases, the in-laws burn the woman or severely abuse her until she commits suicide. There are laws protecting against this, but sometimes many cases aren’t reported, and many do not receive adequate punishments (a similar case with rape)

How do Indian men react to this information? With the idea that Indian laws favour women. How interesting. They believe that a woman can use these laws to ruin any family or man. Besides the whole fake case fallacy, this also shows just how wilfully ignorant or straight up evil these men are.

Moving on to the reactions

Exhibit A:

Here, khap panchayat usually means a certain caste’s “panchayat” (a rural governance body) that is not recognized under Indian law. It continues, in many cases, to protect caste-based discrimination and misogynist practices

You might think these men are just reactionary so it doesn’t matter. But this is unironically how many Indian men think, and it is abundantly clear they act on it or intend to do so

Exhibit B:

“Pooja paath” basically means saying a Hindu prayer everyday with (usually) a small temple in your home. In other words, this man believes men must force their wives to become religious. Because a good Hindu woman would supposedly never fight for her rights

“Kutai” means beating.

The photo is actor Ranbir Kapoor in the Bollywood movie, Animal, which is essentially a misogyny manifesto at this point and highly acclaimed by Indian men despite its extremely low IQ reactionary content

As per the latest reports I could find, 30% of Indian women face domestic violence at the hands of their husbands or in-laws. But there is always an underrepresentation of the facts of rape and domestic violence rates in India. A large part is because much of it goes unreported. I can attest to this as someone who has heard of at least 3 such cases of extreme domestic violence where no action was taken purposefully. Additionally, the last report I remember reading mentioned at least 82% Indian men have raised a hand at their wives. I think that should tell you everything about an actual possible domestic violence rate.

Exhibit C:

The man who still likely has female friends and a girlfriend. Or his liberal sister following his account. Inside group chats and their own circles, we are all aware of how awfully these men talk about women. But on the outside, some trying to appear more friendly to women try giving placating statements like these. This is, as should be obvious, factually incorrect. There is not a single country in this world that favours women in law in a way that they are more privileged than men. Equity as a principle demands that the oppressed be given laws that seem to be privileging them, but in reality are an attempt to put them at least at the same functioning position as the oppressor group. This is basic liberal politics and an average man in India does not even understand this

I don’t have much words anymore. The Indian feminist movement is extremely weak and fragile. It is as liberal and as divided as you can get. We are not equipped to fight with this the way Korean women have been strong enough to. I’m not sure what can save my Indian sisters, but I want more people around the world to at least understand the sheer depravity of Indian men. We have to deal with this dehumanisation on a daily basis, on top of the threat of being raped and mutilated, or burned by our in-laws if we’re married off. There is a reason why Amnesty once called India the worst country to be a woman, despite all the opposition to this mere idea.

[5targh0st]

NUMBER ONE GIRL

31. you're mine (written)

prev // m.list // next

Neither of you talk much, but you have a great time nonetheless. It's almost as if you both know what the other is thinking and words weren't exactly necessary. However, something similar to fear keeps you from letting go; fear of your feelings not being reciprocated, of saying the wrong thing, and of messing up the weird and comfortable relationship you've built.

However, little by little the awkwardness disappears and everything seems to fall into place. You joke around and laugh. Everything feels easier without the weight of expectations and labels hovering over you.

"Can I ask you something?" His voice drowned by his own laugh.

"What?" For some reason, you can't help but smile.

"Why were you hiding in the bathroom?" He seems nervous, "I got worried for a second."

"I wasn't hiding," you can feel your face hot. "I was talking to my friends. Don't ask." You try to laugh but it comes out as a sigh.

And just before you go on a rant about everything and reassure him that you weren't hiding from him, he smiles and reaches for your hand. He knows. You're not sure how, but he knows; he wouldn't be smiling like that if he didn't.

Dessert arrives and you're so lost in his presence that you barely notice how people have started to leave the place. Has he always been so alluring?

When you finally have to go, you reach for your card just to be left waiting. "We haven't paid."

"I did. I paid in advance so you wouldn't pull any funny tricks."

You want to argue and say it's not fair for him to pay every single time you hang out. Then it hits you, are you really hanging out? This whole dinner thing has turned out to be more date-like than you anticipated.

"There's something I want to show you..." His voice interrupts your spiraling.

You just nod and follow him back to his car. Of course, you won't say it out loud but you just realized you'd go basically anywhere with him. Are you supposed to feel like this? Is it wrong?

After a short drive, you finally arrive at the place he wanted to show you. It's a recording studio, although way different than the ones you have at school. This place has a lot more equipment and looks cozier.

"Is this like your personal studio?"

"Something like that," he explains turning on everything, "I share the place with Heesung."

"I didn't know he's also part of the music program."

"He's not. His parents are doctors so they wanted him to follow their steps and, after a lot of arguing and screaming, they compromised on psychology so Heesung could still have time for music."

"He sounds brave."

"He is, but don't tell him that, his ego is big enough as it is." He jokes, but you see the fondness in his eyes. He sure loves his friends.

"Like you're one to talk..."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

You both keep on bickering and laughing. Then silence sets in, but not the uncomfortable kind of silence, it's more like a natural kind of quietness. The same type of silence that comes before the sunrise; a breath of fresh air in the loudness of your lives.

"What did you want to show me?"

"Me."

You must look confused and maybe even concerned cause he laughs and looks away before explaining. "I know why your friends didn't like me, and I know at least one of them told you not to hangout with me or whatever.

I'm not saying they're wrong or that people misunderstand me, but they don't know the whole truth. They don't know me beyond the persona that, I confess, I've built to keep them out. But I want you to know me, all of me.

I'm an asshole, I was in love before and got my heart shattered, and I used that as an excuse to play around and maybe even hurt people. I'm not saying my actions were justified, but I did what I thought was necessary to not be hurt again..."

He is almost spiraling. This is the most honest he's ever been, but he sounds just so desperate.

"Yeonjun..."

"Please, let me finish. I like you. I'm not a good person, and I've hurt people and I'm a mess and I might fuck things up... and I like you. I know I was the one to say we should take things slow and see where it got us. From the moment I first laid eyes on you I knew you were gorgeous but now, after spending time with you and getting to know you a little, I like you and all of the things that make you who you are."

You don't know what to say. He likes you. You like him too, but you don't know how to say it or where to start. So kiss him.

You pull him in and he seems surprised. For a second you start to think that maybe you rushed a little with the physical contact but then you feel his arms engulf you and his lips moving against yours. Has he always been that good of a kisser? Your mind can't even begin to comprehend what got you here.

"I like you too..." you whisper when the contact stops. Too nervous to look at him.

"I kinda figured." He laughs and you feel his hands cupping your face and his thumb caressing your skin. Just a light touch.

"Shut up." You try to hide from his gaze.

He brings you closer and wraps his arms around you, as if he were scared you'd change your mind. "You ruined my speech, though. I even wrote a song so you'd hear about my feelings while I uncomfortably stare at you for four minutes straight."

You can't help but laugh, of course he would do something like that. "Play it for me."

"No way."

"Come on! I'll even pretend to be surprised and everything."

He gives in. Part of him thinks he'd say yes to anything you ask but that's a door he won't open yet. He just admitted he likes you, there'll be enough time in the future to worry about the intensity of his feelings.

he takes off his blazer and walks to the piano. "Please remember that you asked for it."

"You're doing great sweetie!"

He rolls his eyes and you can see his blush but he starts anyway, "This ain't for the best..."

His hands move swiftly yet hesitantly. It's been a while since he's felt so vulnerable. Your soft gaze follows his every movement and he can feel his skin getting warmer by the second. You smile for a moment enjoying the effect you had on him. Until he looks at you while singing.

Now you get it. It's not uncomfortable at all. It's rather intimate. Having someone so openly expressing his feelings for you in such an emotional moment makes you feel helpless and bare. It's almost magical.

"... delicate." He finishes and avoids your eyes.

"Don't get all shy on me now." You try to joke.

"I'm not shy!"

You bicker for a while and everything feels so natural. You don't know what made you feel so nervous at dinner, he's just Yeonjun.

"I do want you to know that I don't expect us to put a label on this right away." He explains while holding your hand. "I want us to go on dates and have like the whole experience. I wanna court you or whatever it is old people call it."

"I'd really like that." You can stop smiling. You didn't know it was possible to smile this much but here you are.

The drive home is different; the feeling of his hand in yours is comforting and yet it also makes you feel anxious. A good type of anxious though.

You talk about school and your plans for the week. It's all so natural and domestic, you've never felt like this before. Not even with Sunghoon. This is the first time you've let yourself be with someone after him and somehow it feels so much more real and authentic. Yeonjun doesn't make you feel as if you need to tone down who you are; you can just be yourself.

When you arrive at your apartment complex, he opens your door and tries best not to stutter while saying goodbye. You laugh and can't even figure out why. You're just so happy.

"See you tomorrow?" He asks shyly once you get out of the car.

"See you tomorrow." You confirm still holding on to his hand.

And then you seal your promise with a kiss...

notes:

I was so excited for this chapter

once again we love a communicative king

had an issue with the format but it's ok now

happy holidays btw

taglist: (32/50)

@estella-novella @poetryforthesad @lisaswifey @angelzforu @ihrtlix @gloriousqueenking @domfikeluva @circus-of-thoughts @conwunder @miniature-tragedy @jeonginplsholdmyhand @sh0dor1 @yourenzoo @tkshairband @realrintaro @castingjinx @amara-mars @hwangrfrnd

[nuggeteri]

hello hello i see you are a flower ranchers enjoyer, i am The flower ranchers guy would you like to talk abt them :>

Oh my god I was writing you a one-shot and my fucking website just fucking glitched and erased all of it. Welp. Back to writing I go (another concept though because I am not rewriting the same shit twice)

Also my DMS are open if that's what you meant :333

.

"Are you sure?" Jimmy asks, looking from right to left---almost worried to be getting caught.

Scott doesn't know why he even bothers. They're in the BamBunker and it really wasn't that big. It could all be seen from one look. He guesses it only emphasized on how anxious Scott was about the idea.

Scott doesn't think it should be against the rules if it's his power. He nods.

"Well, okay, but you can't say I gave you permission, alright?" He warns and Scott knows that Jimmy wouldn't do anything even if he didn't listen. Scott agrees anyway. "Yup. Sure. Now let me."

With only minimal sounds of protests, Jimmy turned around, back facing Scott, which the shirt the blond was wearing having two rips, allowing golden small wings to pass through.

Scott knows he could've stolen Grian's wings. They were bigger and would probably get him more success. Pearl would've let him without a second thought. He could probably coherse Martyn. While Lizzie's were fake, they could certainly do the job. But if he chose anyone other than Jimmy, then they wouldn't be getting all red, hot and bothered and Scott having his hands in their wings.

"You've grown some blue feathers." He remarks as he passes a hand through them. Jimmy hiccups, gasps and chirps before managing to answer him--- "Yeah..- I guess? I mean, look at me! Still standing!" He wasn't a canary anymore,Mumbo and Skizz are indeed dead. Scott can give that to him. "Proud of you, Petal."

He passes his hand through a few more of the new feathers before activating his powers. He's not even entirely sure if it would work, but at least, trying it gave him an excuse to pass his hands over Jimmy's soft wings.

It does work. It's not painful, per say, more of uncomfortable to have his back torn off to let wings pass through, but oh well.

It also ripped his shirt and jacket--oh well. He could always ask Cleo to sew it back together afterwards. She wouldn't say not to her soulmate.

"Did it work?"

Scott chirped---it didn't come as a surprise for him, he remembered how being an Avian was from Empires season one-- and it was all Jimmy needed to get his question answered. He chirped back, and oh gosh, not only had Scott missed these Avian instincts, but it made him feel fuzzy to have his partner respond.

He doesn't show it, though. That's Jimmy's thing, as he got redder and redder by the second.

"Aww, Jimmy, are you flustered?"

"Go and catch Tango!"

Right--- because this was also what it was all about. While Scott wanted to run his hands through his boyfriend's unused wings, he also wanted to catch up on his other boyfriend who had been running all around the server not to get caught.

He knew, logically, that Tango would stop for him if he asked. After all, he was still green, and therefore not allowed to attack him. However, that wouldn't be fun.

"I'll send kisses from you his way, then!" He says before flapping his new wings and getting out of the bunker without using the ladders--which he could hear his boyfriend complaining about.

He doesn't care--- he has a mission. Find Tango.

It's not that hard. The Bamboozlers' mountain already gave a good overall view of the server--flying slightly higher made it incredible.

Tango was running circles around Spawn.

Scott dipped and glided all the way over there.

"Hey, snowbug!" He called out.

"AAAH!" Tango screams---a little loud, which makes Scotts newly obtained head wings flap back in surprise, but other wise, doesn't hurt a fly.

"Since when have you gotten wings?" He asks, flabbergasted.

"Jimmy gave them to me. Powers, remember? I can steal people's hybrid status."

"That is---amazing! Oh my, can you become a blaze hybrid?" Tango proposes and---well, it's not like Scott hadn't already considered it. There were cultural and biological traditions he and his partners couldn't practice. Like wrapping someone around a wing for Jimmy, or have flames intertwine for blazes. He wanted to try all of that. But not right now.

"Later, bug," he informs him, "You've already stolen from me!"

Tango's fire seems to spark at Scotts words---something that he finds absolutely adorable. They were all excited.

"How so?" He still manages to get out.

"Ice is my thing. It's the second time you steal it!"

-

I did get lazy towards the end soryyyy it's soon to be four AM....but flower ranchers

[angrybathbomb]

Leander x gn! reader

MODERN AU

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

SUMMARY: A very handsome man who introduces himself as Leander approaches you asking to do your portraits for free. Will you agree?

About the content: fluff, sfw, modern au, Leander is a youtuber who clicks portraits of people he finds eye catching on the street and is down bad for you on first sight lol

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

"Excuse me?" 

A smooth, rich voice, warm and velvety, jolts you from your daydream. 

You lift your gaze, eyes tracing upward until they meet his. 

Standing before you is a tall, handsome man with an effortless charm. His sea-green eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief as he gives you a gentle smile.

Too busy admiring the fine specimen of a man in front of you, you almost fail to notice the camera quietly recording the entire interaction. 

An Influencer? Maybe a Youtuber ?

You raise a questioning eyebrow.

"Well, hi," he begins confidently, his tone smooth and unruffled. "I'm Leander."

"Oh," you reply, your voice flat.

He chuckles, a bit sheepish but undeterred by your curt response. 

"I'm a street photographer," he says, gesturing to the camera slung over his shoulder. "I capture portraits of people."

He pauses, pulling out his phone and holding it out to you. "Here, this is my Instagram."

Your gaze drifts over his feed—photos of people from all walks of life. 

Some faces are unique and exotic, others classic and timeless, each image radiating its own quiet beauty.

"I see," but before you can say more, something catches your eye on his profile. Your gaze freezes on his follower count.

His following was in the lakhs. LAKHS!

"What do you want?" you reply, your voice sharper than you intended.

"Uh, well, you see, you caught my eye, and... you’re quite the sight for sore eyes, so—" he begins, the practised charm evident in every word.

"Get to the point," you cut in, unamused.

Sure, he was easy on the eyes , but your stranger-danger senses were stronger than any pull of "pretty privilege" right now.

"Would you mind if I took a few photos of you?" he asks, a hint of hesitation in his smile as he gestures toward his camera.

Cute.

The gesture, of course—not him.

Well, maybe him, too.

A hint of shyness and the blush spreading on his cheeks looks good on him.

You hum thoughtfully. “Are you going to post them?”

“Yeah?” he replies, picking up on your unease.

"Is that a problem?"

Your eyes answer for you. 

He chuckles, noticing that while your mouth remains silent, your expression says it all.

How adorable…

He clears his throat, pausing as he gathers his thoughts.

Usually, he’d offer a polite "it's alright" or "I understand" with a practised smile before moving on. 

He’s willing to make an exception for you though.

"I won’t post those pictures," he reassures.

How could he not have pictures of you? 

You’d caught his eye from across the street, and before he could consciously decide to approach you, his feet had already carried him over.

Hell, he would keep the pictures for himself.

It was better that way—he tells himself.

Yet, as this thought settles, the sudden wave of possessiveness surprises him. 

Why did he feel this way about a stranger?

"Uhm," you say, nervously chewing on your bottom lip.

"It's okay if you don’t want to. I understand—" he replies, mentally sighing as he struggles to hide his reluctance to walk away from you.

"It’s fine," you say, finally standing up. "But I’m not really photogenic, so this might be a challenge." You let out a wry chuckle.

He grins, and for a moment, you swear he resembles a golden retriever.

He winks at you. 

"Oh, I love a good challenge," he replies smoothly.

Especially if the challenge is someone as pretty as you, he thinks to himself, knowing better than to voice that thought aloud for fear of creeping you out.

"Follow me," he says with an enthusiastic grin. "Let’s find a good spot for some great shots."

You trail behind him, eyes shifting subtly to the camera that’s quietly recording.

"Is that... recording?" you ask, trying to keep your tone casual.

Leander catches on quickly. Though he may look laid-back, he’s far from oblivious.

"Yes, sorry for not mentioning it earlier," he says, as if reading your thoughts. "I post behind-the-scenes videos on Insta and YouTube, along with the final shots."

You hum thoughtfully. "I see."

"Do you want me to stop?" he offers, surprising even himself. 

Normally, he wouldn’t compromise. Those BTS videos were part of his success, boosting his follower count to a whopping 17.5 lakhs. 

Yet here he was, making an exception for you. He wasn’t ready to explore why—not just yet.

"No, it’s fine," you say, with a shy yet friendly smile. "I guess that’s part of the fun in all this," you add, gesturing vaguely between the camera and the two of you.

"Yeah, it is," Leander replies with a grin, pleased to see you comfortable enough to go along with something clearly outside your usual comfort zone.

He pauses by a striking tree draped in red blossoms that stand out against the vast, blue sky. "I just realised—I never got your name.”

You give him your name, your eyes following his, towards the beautiful tree he’s been admiring.

You look back at him, only to catch him already staring at you intently.

His eyes are so deep and mesmerising that you could easily lose yourself in them.

Feeling heat rise to your face, you awkwardly redirect your gaze to the tree, not wanting your feelings to be too obvious.

Sensing his eyes still trained on you, you tease, "Click a picture; it’ll last longer."

The comment catches him off guard, but then he bursts into laughter, clearly enjoying your sass. 

“Oh, I will,” he smirks. “Now, how about you pose for me under that tree?” He gestures toward the shade beneath the tree, where the grass is dotted with red flowers that have scattered down from the canopy above.

"How should I—" you ponder aloud as you approach the tree. "Is this okay?" You lean your back against the trunk, folding your arms in front of you, still feeling jittery and awkward.

Leander smiles, ever patient. "Of course," he replies, angling his camera at you. "Now, look somewhere else, as if you’re lost in thought."

You follow his instructions, grateful for his guidance in this moment.

Click. Click.

He smiles as he looks down at the photos, whistling in appreciation.

Curiosity piqued, you take a few steps closer to see the pictures for yourself.

He hands you the camera, and you gasp in surprise.

Is that really you? Sure, you’ve taken a few decent selfies and your friends have occasionally captured good angles, but these were just two quick shots, and he already has some stunning images. It all seemed so effortless.

"Wow, you’re quite the pro," you chuckle, a smile lighting up your eyes.

There’s a hint of mischief in the crinkle of your smile, which prompts a teasing grin from him as he admires you silently.

“Pro?” he replies with mock disapproval. “You make it easy.”

 You raise your hands, amusement dancing in your eyes. "Empty flattery doesn’t work on me."

Leander raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. “Good thing I never flatter empty—just like your beautiful smile.”

You scoff under your breath and blush, turning around and pretending to look anywhere but him.

"I'm not done with you yet," he murmurs.

You freeze as you feel his breath brushing against your neck, goosebumps erupting at the rich, velvety cadence of his voice, which has dropped a few octaves lower.

You summon the courage to turn and face him, but in the blink of an eye, he’s standing at a respectful distance.

"I need a few more photos," he says, turning to walk away and gesturing for you to follow. "This is the entertainment district; it’s hard not to find some  eye-catching spots for a good shoot.”

You fall in line behind him, a few steps back.

A bit breathless from the sudden closeness, you wonder if what just happened was real or just a figment of your imagination.

Still, you pretend to be oblivious, not wanting to succumb to delusion, even though the air between you is thick with tension and unspoken desires.

“You like birds?”

The question catches you completely off guard. "Birds?" you ask, a little lost.

Leander grins, glancing over toward an old lady holding a bunch of brilliantly coloured parrots—vivid blues, greens, reds, and yellows. 

For a moment, you feel like you're back in high school with a hopeless hallway crush, drawn in by every small detail—the subtle tilt of his head, the playful glint in his green eyes, the easy curl of his lips that you can’t help but linger on. Then there’s the scar, a faint line beginning on his cheek, running down his neck, peeking out from the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt and stretching all the way to his forearm.

"Hey, sweetheart?" He snaps his fingers lightly in front of your face, breaking your trance. "Am I losing you already?”

"Oh… uh—" You stammer, muttering a curse under your breath as you quickly glance around, desperately avoiding his gaze. 

"Yeah, sure, I guess," you say with a sheepish smile, pulling out your phone in a hasty attempt to look busy.

Leander’s gaze drops to the screen, his eyebrows lifting in curiosity—until he spots the payment app open. His eyes widen, and he straightens up. "Wait—what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

"Well, someone has to pay the lady," you chuckle, flashing a smirk. "She’s not about to hand them over just because you flashed that pretty face and charming smile."

The bold flirtation slips out before you even realise it, leaving you just as surprised as Leander, whose eyebrows raise slightly, a grin spreading across his face.

"Don’t worry your head about something so silly," he says with a wink.

You open your mouth to argue, but Leander leans in close, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Trust me, will you?” The words are rich, almost velvety, and you can’t ignore the delicious shiver that races down your spine—it has to be intentional.

“I invited you here, so this is on me. Just relax and look pretty,” he adds, leaning back with a playful smile. He takes your hand, his touch gentle, guiding you toward the woman with the birds.

You try to steady your breathing, eyes drifting over the way his black shirt perfectly moulds to his sculpted back.

“How much?” he asks with a friendly grin.

“Five bucks,” the old lady replies, rising slowly with the careful movements of age. “Take as many pictures as you like.” She extends her hands, offering you the vibrant little birds resting on her fingers.

You stifle an "aww" as you gently take the birds, carefully placing two on your head and trying to balance them without letting them tumble. 

But managing so many little ones at once is tricky.

Noticing your struggle, Leander steps in with a grin, placing one bird on your shoulder and positioning another on your index and middle fingers.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He steps back, adjusting his camera before bringing it up to his eye, his focus fully on you.

“Ready? One… two… three…”

Click.

Click.

Without thinking, you shift into another pose, gazing softly at the bird perched on your finger. Leander, not missing a beat, snaps away.

The little bird on your shoulder ruffles its feathers, alerting you and gently you  reach over and place a warm hand on it, adjusting it to a more comfortable spot. 

You can’t help as you lean in to place a light kiss on its tiny head—they’re just too cute to resist!

Click. Click.

You chuckle, raising an eyebrow. "Having fun?"

"A lot," Leander smirks, his eyes never leaving the camera.

One by one, you hand the little birds back to the old lady, watching as she gently returns them to their perch. You notice there's no cage in sight, and a small sense of relief washes over you.

“They’re trained well,” Leander comments, as if reading your thoughts.

It’s not the first time he’s done that, and it spooks you. With his sunny personality, it’s easy to forget how sharp his eyes can be.

“So, where to next?” you ask, steering the conversation away .

He gestures down the road. “Let’s find a bar—the dim lighting makes for some stunning shots.”

And now here you are, leaning against the bar counter, trying to strike a casual pose.

You debate whether to keep a neutral expression or offer a smile.

“Easy… easy,” Leander soothes, as if sensing your nerves.

"Ah, sorry," you mutter under your breath.

"No, no," he reassures, his tone encouraging. "Take your time.”

"I don’t know what to do with my face," you admit, a bit flustered.

Kiss me.

Leander quickly clears his throat, pushing that thought aside, though the temptation lingers.

"Try looking to the right… avoid looking at the camera,” he suggests gently.

You nod, turning your head to the right.

Leander watches you in the dim light, noticing how the soft, golden glow highlights your features.

He adjusts the focus and takes a few shots.

“Do something with your hair,” he says softly, “like you’re fixing it—run your hand through it.”

You follow his direction, hoping for a picture-worthy moment just as the camera shutter clicks again.

“Perfect,” he says with a satisfied smile, scrolling through the photos.

You chuckle. “I can already imagine the caption— ‘This was a particularly difficult one,’ ” you say dramatically, adding air quotes.

Leander bursts into genuine laughter, clearly amused at your humour.

“Honestly, I don’t know who told you otherwise,” he says, raising a brow. “You seem like a natural to me.”

“Or maybe you’re the natural,” you shoot back.

Leander smirks, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief.

“At photography, I mean,” you quickly clarify, feeling a sudden need to explain yourself, as though he’d read a double meaning into your words.

“Only at photography?” he murmurs with an intense gaze, lips curling into a devilish smirk.

You blink, caught off guard. “What?” You weren’t oblivious to flirtations, but you didn’t want to be delusional and get ahead of yourself.

“Nothing,” Leander says, shaking his head with a slight smile as he checks his phone. 

But the faint pink blush dusting his cheeks betrays him—he was definitely flirting. 

A surge of boldness sparks within you, and you wonder if you should indulge.

Maybe offer him your number, or even suggest a date...

“Guess it’s getting late,” his voice interrupts your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. “I’ve probably kept you long enough,” he chuckles, a little sheepishly.

He turns off the camera that was live recording, signalling the end of your time together.

A slight panic flares up—you weren’t ready for this to end. “Actually, I really enjoyed our time together,” you say, hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice.

“Did you?” he asks, grinning with a playful glint. “It’s okay, you can be honest.”

This was your chance. Now or NEVER!

You take a steadying breath. “No, really—I wouldn’t mind part two.”

“A part two?”

“Yeah,” you pause, letting the anticipation build, “maybe… a date this time.”

Your words catch him completely off guard. After a beat of silence, nerves begin to creep in, and just as you’re about to laugh it off and backpedal, he speaks up.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he chuckles, a blush paints  his cheeks again as he glances away, then back at you. “Bold, aren’t you?” he teases, mirth dancing in his eyes. “You stole my move, but hey, I’m not complaining.”

“So… is that a yes?” you ask, grinning from ear to ear, your heart fluttering.

“On one condition,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eyes, drawing out the moment.

You pause, brow furrowed. “Oh? And what’s that?”

He grins, holding out his phone. “Your number.”

You roll your eyes, playing along. “How suave. What a gentleman.”

But you take his phone, entering your number. 

“No wonder you asked me out,” he chuckles, matching your sass.

“Careful,” you smirk, typing your name into his contacts. “Don’t make me second-guess it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he teases, drawing out the nickname with a playful grin.

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

A/N note: I hope you all enjoyed this! I was getting lazy to post this, this was written way back in September I think lol, sorry.

Constructive criticism is appreciated as I am still finding my writing style and experimenting.

Tell me your thoughts.

[fanfictwins]

SAGAU Liyue - Holiday Special 2024

Summary: “A Christmas surprise party with a Liyuean twist — the perfect gift planned for you by the two young girls who wanted you to feel more at home. How could you NOT have fun with it?”

Word Count: ~10.4k

The pleasant fragrance of mixed herbs, similar to the bunches of purple and white ones held in your arms, hit your nose as you stepped through the doorway of Bubu Pharmacy, the figures of two small girls by your side. With the variety of medicinal herbs stored within its walls, it was no surprise that it smelled great whenever you visited, no matter whether morning, noon, or night.

“Your Grace…? Why, I certainly hope you’re not here because you require my aid?”

Your gaze rose from the herbs to see Baizhu with a smile on his face, subtle surprise etched into his expression. Changsheng matched his gaze, raising her head up to better look at you.

“Oh, I’m fine, doc. I was just helping Qiqi with her wildcrafting.” You lifted your arms up just so, showing off everything you gathered with a proud smile, as the aforementioned zombie raised her own arms up to place the batch of herbs she collected on the counter. “I had to climb along so many cliffs and mountain peaks, but I got ‘em! I didn’t let a single one I saw go unplucked!”

Baizhu seemed to get more surprised, but it quickly melted into a calmer smile. “You needn’t exert yourself like that, Your Grace, but I thank you for your assistance. It’s much appreciated.”

You handed the herbs to Herbalist Gui, who visibly jolted when your hand brushed against his during the exchange. He excused himself so quickly after that he almost tripped and dropped the bundles everywhere, but managed to get away with everything held tightly in his arms and a flustered look on his face. It wasn’t anything that you weren’t already fully used to at this point.

“Aw, there’s no need to be so formal with me. In fact, if you ever need some rare or hard-to-get ingredient, you can always ask me. It’s no trouble at all! I like helping you and Qiqu out, honest.”

“Hmm… then I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Your Grace, you worked really hard today!” Yaoyao piped up, drawing your attention to her and her bright smile. “I think you deserve a break! We can handle anything else that comes up.”

You lightly exhaled. “Huh? I know I said I did a lot, but I’m actually not that tired-”

“I insist! In fact, I’m sure my master would love to sit down and have tea with you. It’s been some time since you’ve personally visited her, right? She still talks a lot about the last time!”

“I… guess I can go see her, then?” You were still smiling, if a bit confused now, but you waved off the four as you began to leave. “I’ll see you all around. Don’t get into too much trouble, ‘kay?”

The moment you were out of sight, down the pharmacy’s stairs, Yaoyao turned to her friend.

“You got everything written down, right?”

“...mmm, yeah.”

The zombie slowly took out her notebook, flipping it open to the newest page, which was filled with scribbles. Her handwriting made it hard to make out some words, but a closer look made most of them legible enough to read; some of the words were bigger than others, emphasizing their importance, but the biggest one was centered almost in the middle — “Christmas”.

Yaoyao smiled brightly, gently taking the notebook out of Qiqi’s hands and holding it up as she looked at it. “Perfect! Now we can make sure to tell everyone about everything we learned!”

“And what’s this about?” Baizhu peered down at the girls from his spot behind the counter. “Scheming behind Their Grace’s back after getting Them to leave? That’s not very nice.”

Changsheng scoffed. “It’s downright rude!”

“It’s for a good reason! Well… sort of.” Yaoyao turned the notebook around to show the doctor its pages. “While we were gathering herbs, Their Grace started telling us about Their home, and They mentioned this one celebration… “Criss-miss”? That’s how They pronounced it. And, They seemed a bit sad when talking, so I’ve decided that we should throw Them a “Christmas party”!”

Qiqi raised her arms in the air, mimicking Yaoyao. “Party…!”

“Oooh…” There was a hint of interest in Baizhu’s smile. “That sounds quite nice.”

“Yeah, and everyone can help make it a big surprise!” Yaoyao closed the notebook and gave it back to Qiqi. “So forgive me, Dr. Baizhu, but I have to borrow Qiqi for a bit. We’ve a lot to plan!”

“Very well, but stay safe, you two!”

The doctor called out as the two girls set out, hand in hand as they took the first step towards their goal — throwing the Divine Creator a surprise “Christmas party” with the other vessels.

- - - - -

There was always one thing on the top of your to-do list whenever you visited Liyue, and that was making a trip to Wanmin Restaurant. Even when the other restaurants tried to catch your attention, you usually passed them by; they weren’t bad at all, by any means, but there was just something about Wanmin that dragged you back in for a meal whenever you were in the harbor.

And Chef Mao never complained about the big boost of business he got after one of your visits.

“Chef Mao!”

You smiled at the man as you approached, the delicious scents wafting from the restaurant’s kitchen already invading your nostrils from half a street away. You were able to identify some of the restaurant’s dishes by scent alone, but there were also new ones you weren’t familiar with.

“Your Grace, it’s an honor!” Chef Mao smiled at you from his spot behind the counter. “Are you having your usual today? I always stock up on extra ingredients whenever I hear you’re around.”

You let out a long hum. “Maybe… but I’m also feeling kind of adventurous today…”

The sight of a familiar panda-esque bear poking his head out around the corner of the doorway to the kitchen cut off your train of thought, your smile reappearing as you turned towards him.

“Oh, Guoba! Hello!”

The bear flinched at being spotted, hurrying back into the kitchen and leaving you staring at the spot he had just been in. You couldn’t ignore the clanging of metal that soon followed from inside the kitchen, before hearing a familiar voice exclaim, “They’re here?! Right now?!”, which in itself was followed by the restaurant’s head chef stumbling out of the kitchen, Guoba on her heels.

Xiangling looked a bit unkempt, dusting herself off before looking at you with a smile.

“Your Grace, it’s an honor!”

Like father, like daughter.

“Xiangling, are you…” You gave her a once-over, taking note of the various splatters of colorful spices and sauces decorating her from head-to-toe, like an abstract art-piece. “...okay?”

Her smile became sheepish as she followed your gaze, looking down at herself briefly before looking back up at you. “Aha… yeah, I was just… surprised you’re here. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Oh… sorry for the surprise. I just wanted to get some lunch.”

Xiangling nodded. “Then I’ll get right on that! The usual?”

“Actually, something smells really good in the kitchen. What’re you cooking?”

“Uh, it’s… um… I’m kind of just working something new out, I…”

Xiangling averted her eyes, her gaze looking at everything but you before it ended up on Guoba, asking him for help. The bear lightly flinched, his own eyes widening as he babbled incoherently.

“Oh, Your Grace.”

The cool tone of Shenhe’s voice cut through the air, cutting off Guoba and almost forcing your attention to shift itself over to her. Her hands held a large wooden crate that leaned against her body, the contents no doubt too heavy for any mere mortal to lift despite the ease at which the woman in front of you was handling it, and you watched as she calmly looked at Xiangling.

“Here. I gathered everything you said you might need for your secret dishes.”

That made you look at Xiangling again. “Oooh, secret dishes?”

The head chef looked ready to pass out, before she quickly shook her head and calmed down.

“W-Well, you see…” Xiangling fidgeted before she sighed, only to perk up moments later as an idea entered her head. “Actually, I could use your help. Yaoyao recently told me that you told her about this thing called “Christmas”...? And she mentioned a few dishes that are supposed to be made for it, but I’m struggling to figure them out since all I’ve got are the names of the dishes.”

“You’re… trying to make Christmas dishes?”

Xiangling nodded. “Yep! Because, you know… it’s food from another world! Your world! I’d really like to learn how to make dishes from your home, Your Grace! I’m sure they’re super tasty!”

That made perfect sense to you.

“You don’t need to be nervous asking for help, Xiangling. I’d be glad to give you a hand.”

“Thank you, Your Grace!”

You ended up sitting down at one of the nearby tables — even though it wasn’t necessarily a quiet hour for business, one table quickly became cleared up once you needed it — after your order was made with Xiangling right by your side, the chef eagerly listening as you told her all about some of the more common Christmas dishes that came to your mind between bites of your lunch. You tried your best to explain the dishes as much as you could, sparing no detail.

The variety was wide, from baked ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, candied sweet potatoes… even if you never personally had some of the dishes you listed out, you still named them and described what you had heard they were like.

“Oh, and there’s usually a roasted turkey.”

Xiangling blinked, an interested glimmer in her eyes. “Turkey?”

“Yeah, it’s… a kind of bird. I don’t think Teyvat has anything quite like them, though… oh!” You raised your utensils up, pointing at Xiangling. “There’s this one dish called a “Turducken” that some people have, where you stuff a chicken into a duck, then stuff that duck into a turkey.”

“So it’s a… three-bird roast?”

“Yep!”

“That sounds interesting… and I could do the chicken and duck part, but without a turkey…”

“I think some people use a goose instead of a turkey.” You lightly tapped your chin with your utensils. “Even in my world, turkeys are only available and easy to obtain in certain areas.”

Xiangling thought for a moment, before a smile returned to her face and she nodded.

“Alright, I think I can do that… no, I definitely can do that! I’ll make the best Christmas dishes ever! I can’t wait to try them myself! Thank you so much for all of your help, Your Grace!”

“It’s no problem.” You laid your utensils down on your empty dish, wiping your mouth off with a napkin before you stood up. “I just hope you allow me to taste-test them when you’re done.”

Xiangling let out a slight laugh, looking away nervously. “Y-Yeah, of course you’ll be able to!”

You gave Shenhe a word of thanks as she collected your empty lunch dishes, and gave Chef Mao and Xiangling a hearty wave goodbye as you left, only making it past the neighboring shop before a horde of people rushed by you. You glanced over your shoulder to see them all queuing up at the restaurant, and sighed from knowing that you were the sole reason for the lunch rush.

Xiangling loudly exhaled the moment you were out of sight, her whole body relaxing at the same time. Guoba copied her movements, before smiling up at the young girl and babbling briefly.

“Shenhe!” Xiangling’s cheeks puffed out a bit as she looked up at the tall woman. “Please be more careful! I’m lucky I was able to get some advice out of it and that Their Grace didn’t catch onto the plan, but it would’ve been super bad if They found out! It would’ve ruined the surprise!”

Shehne blinked. “...ah, my apologies, but I did state that your new dishes are a secret, didn’t I?”

“You’re not supposed to say that it’s a secret out loud!”

“Ahem, Xiangling! Shenhe! I could use a little help here!”

The two ladies — and Guoba — looked over to see Chef Mao overwhelmed at the restaurant’s counter. They could hear most of the customers asking for “what the Divine Creator ordered”.

“Sorry, dad! We’ll be right on it!”

Xiangling and Guoba hurried back into the kitchen, the clanging of metal starting up again as they began to prep food to serve, and Shenhe returned to the dining area to clean the tables so that some of the customers would have a place to sit when dining on the day’s “popular dish”.

Chef Mao sighed. “...and this is why I make sure to order extra ingredients.”

- - - - -

Even with many pairs of eyes staring at you for almost the entire time you were passing by, walking around Liyue Harbor was usually a peaceful and pleasant experience; the stares you received from the locals were mostly of awe, and they never tried to get into your actual space, instead always keeping a respectful distance that allowed your walk to go without a hindrance.

But those were just the behaviors of the normal folk.

Your vessels were of a completely different sort.

“Your Grace…!”

You had been strolling near the docks, admiring the ships out at sea, only to look in front of you to see Xinyan — who had called out to you — and Yun Jin coming to a stop before you. The two had to take a minute to catch their breath, Xinyan even having to place her hands on her knees.

“Xinyan? Yun Jin?” You looked between the two performers with a concerned frown on your lips, your eyebrows furrowed. “Are you two alright? Why were you running? Is something wrong…?”

The rocker stood up straight with a smile on her face, shaking her hands out as she shook her head. “It’s nothing bad, Your Grace. Whew, I just finished up a real blazin’ performance, so-”

“Halt!”

Your head swiveled in the direction of the shout, seeing the two girls follow suit from the corner of your eye, just to see a couple of Millelith soldiers with gazes solely focused on Xinyan. They came to a stop next to you and the performers, not having to catch their breath like the latter.

The rocker frowned. “Shoot.”

The two soldiers stared Xinyan down, one tapping his polearm on the ground. “Miss Xinyan, you have been charged with multiple fire code violations. You can’t just keep running away from us.”

“The only thing that got burned was the stage I built myself…”

“That’s not an excuse. Someone still could have gotten hurt.”

“Oh, okay… that makes sense.” You smiled at Xinyan. “You were running from the law, huh?”

The sound of your voice, your tone a bit amused, made the soldiers finally take notice of your presence, and the way they were taken aback to realize that it was you made your smile grow just a little bit more. Their eyes went wide, and they seemed to lose any and all strength in their stances — if only for a moment before they corrected themselves, their faces now a light pink.

“Ack- the Divine Creator?”

The soldiers fumbled with their weapons before bowing to you.

“Forgive us for not acknowledging you, Your Grace. It was rude of us!”

“It’s not a big deal, guys. You two are just doing your jobs, focusing on handling crime-”

Your attention briefly shifted itself back to Xinyan, who was clearly trying to tell you something through just her gaze and body posture. Her head made wide turns as she looked between you and the Millelith soldiers, the sparkle in her eyes conveying a plea as dramatic as a rock opera.

“BUT…! You can leave Xinyan to me.”

The rocker pumped a fist at your words, smiling wide once you received her signal.

“I’m sure you have more important matters that take precedence over this situation? I can make sure that Xinyan receives a punishment befitting her fire code violations. Consider it dealt with.”

The soldiers blinked a few times, before glancing at each other.

“Is… is that allowed?”

“It’s the Divine Creator. They should be able to handle it… right?”

They looked back at you after a quiet moment of deliberation amongst themselves, giving you a nod in affirmation. “Very well. We shall leave this matter in your capable hands, Your Grace.”

You continued to smile as you watched the soldiers hesitantly leave, casting glances over their shoulders at you before they disappeared out of your sight, before you looked at the performers.

“...I’m surprised that that worked. I didn’t think they’d accept that I have any authority for this.”

“But it’s a good thing it did!” Xinyan smiled. “Thanks for helping me out, Your Grace!”

Yun Jin hummed as her head tilted. “What kind of punishment would you even give Xinyan?”

You thought for a moment, putting a finger on your chin, before you smiled again.

“Eternal banishment?”

“Aw, shucks.” Xinyan continued to smile brightly, even as faux disappointment laced itself into her voice and a small chuckle escaped her lips. “Ain’t that just a bit too harsh, Your Grace?”

You snorted, rolling your eyes before focusing on the rocker again. “I suppose so. Just be more careful, okay? I doubt you’d actually end up hurting someone during a performance, but still.”

“Since you’re the one saying to, Your Grace…”

You shared another small laugh with Xinyan before noticing Yun Jin perk up, her eyes widening as if she had just had a sudden thought, and you found her red eyes looking right into your eyes.

“Oh, Your Grace, if you have the time, we actually require some of your help-”

“Well, now, what’s with all the commotion here?”

With the suddenness of a cheap indie jumpscare, a familiar figure popped up from between your little trio, springing onto her feet with her usual smile plastered on her face. The question of when she had snuck so close was wholly forgotten as Xinyan, Yun Jin, and you reacted appropriately.

“Wha- Hu Tao!” You clutched a hand to your chest. “Are you trying to give us all heart attacks?”

“Oh, no, no no! It’s far too early for you three!” The unwavering smile of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor director did little too soothe you, especially when she winked. “But… if you’re ever feeling unwell, Your Grace, I hope you’ll choose our humble business to make your exit a smooth one!”

“Director Hu, I highly doubt Their Grace will require our services anytime in the near future.”

“Hehe, you can never know~!”

The director was, of course, accompanied by the parlor’s consultant. His golden gaze moved from his boss to you, a hint of fondness softening the stoic expression displayed on his face.

“Zhongli!” You smiled at the sight of the consultant, Yun Jin and Xinyan greeting him with a bow and a wave respectively. “Am I to assume you two are currently on another advertising kick?”

“Yep, yep!” Hu Tao nodded. “New clients are always guaranteed, but we still must make sure all potential clients know exactly where all their farewell needs will be dealt with the proper respect.”

You hummed before looking at Zhongli. “And how many future clients have you two convinced?”

“The director… managed to get plenty of attention towards our business.”

Hu Tao playfully laughed. “Hey now, only time will tell how many clients take up our offer.”

You snorted and shook your head. “You… are certainly a handful, Hu Tao.”

“Mmm-hmm! But enough about me! What’s been going on with you three? While passing by, I couldn’t help but notice that you three all seemed to be having quite an interesting time together.”

“Just saving Xinyan from the Millelith, I suppose- oh!” You swiveled on your heel to face Yun Jin once more. “Right, you were asking for my help with something? What do you need from me?”

Yun Jin perked up again, seeming to remember she was about to request something before the shock of the funeral parlor’s staff arrival interrupted her, and nodded. “That’s right, Your Grace. I was just going to ask you about… I believe it’s called “Christmas” music? Yaoyao told us about it recently, and we were interested in learning more about it. We hoped that you’d help with that.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah!” Xinyan sported a brief look of confusion on her face before she also nodded, a smile appearing on her lips. “It sounds mighty interesting, Your Grace! I’d love to learn enough to perform music from your world! I’m sure there're plenty of rockin’ tunes you could tell us about.”

It took you a moment to process what they had said.

“You guys… want to learn about Christmas music?”

“Oooh!” Hu Tao leaned over your shoulder. “Music from Their Grace’s world? Count me in!”

Your gaze moved between the three ladies — the rocker, the opera singer, and the poet — who all stared back at you with interested gazes, before it flickered over to Zhongli, whose demeanor was more alert than it usually was around you… which you honestly should have expected; that he of all people would be interested in learning more about you in any capacity was no surprise.

“Uh… I guess I can teach you guys the songs I know? But don’t expect me to write down any of the melodies or anything. I have no skills in musical notation, especially if it’s just from memory.”

Xinyan waved her hand in dismissal. “You can just sing them for us, Your Grace.”

“Wha- wait, what? Me, sing?”

“To hear the Divine Creator sing…” Zhongli mused to himself, arms crossed with a finger held up to his chin. “...that would be quite the honor. It would make Glaze Lilies full-bloom, no doubt.”

You let out a weak laugh. “I-I’m not too sure about that…”

“Aw, come on, come on!” Hu Tao grabbed onto your shoulder, leaning in even closer, her face inches from your own. “Some people would find the chance to hear you sing worthy to die for!”

You took in a sharp inhale as you practically felt the hopes and expectations emitting from the four people around you, and eventually let out a long sigh, your shoulders coming to a slump.

“...fine, but how about we all go somewhere… not so public first?”

- - - - -

The two blue-haired boys in front of you each had a different expression on their face, one of which was a look of concern — though he was clearly trying to keep himself cool at the same time — while the other was fighting to hide the subtle hints of a smirk creeping onto his lips.

Your own face was a perfect display of confusion. “I… I’m sorry? What is this about?”

“Your Grace, I’ve heard rumors of a… a “Christmas” demon! But I’m unfortunately without any knowledge on what type of fiend it may be. I’m going to require your assistance to exorcise it.”

You stared at the young exorcist in front of you for a few seconds before looking to the second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild, catching him hiding his laughter and disguising a snort that escaped as a cough with a closed fist over his mouth, and you slowly furrowed your eyebrows.

…that explains it.

“Well-” You looked at Chongyun again. “-the only Christmas “demon” I know of is “Krampus”.”

Chongyun raised a hand to his chin. “Such a sinister name… please, can you tell me everything you know about it? I must know as much as I can about the fiend in order to be able to stop it.”

“It kind of depends on who you ask, but, basically, Krampus is a demon who punishes naughty children around the time Christmas is celebrated. You know… the kind of children who cause a lot of trouble for other people, who misbehave and don’t play nice, who lie for no good reason.”

You glanced at Xingqiu, who had gone still with an almost worried smile at your expression.

“He’s covered in dark hair, has horns and hooves and fangs, and a long pointed tongue — oh, and he carries around chains, I think? Sometimes with bells. The punishments he doles out on bad children are stuff like swatting them on the butts with branches… or snatching them away in a basket to who-knows-where. To drown them or eat them… or something along those lines.”

“That… that’s horrible!” Chongyun appeared to actually get a bit heated as you spoke, his hands clenching into tight fists in front of his chest. “I must make sure to stop it before it hurts anyone!”

“Whoa there, Chongyun. Calm down and have a popsicle, ‘kay?” You let your lips curve up into a smile, and put a hand on the exorcist’s shoulder. “Krampus sure is a horrible guy and all… but he’s also fictional; just a character that parents tell their children about to make them behave, to teach them lessons about being nice and stuff. He’s not actually real — well, not that I know of, anyway — and, even if he was, he wouldn’t be anywhere in Teyvat. He’d be stuck in my world.”

Chongyun’s breathing was heavy, his face already flushed, but he managed to take one of his popsicles out and bite into it to calm himself. “Ugh, Your Grace… you could’ve started with that.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” You let go of Chongyun’s shoulder. “But how’d you even hear about Krampus? I don’t think I’ve told anyone about him before right now with you two.”

“Xingqiu told me about it.”

The guilty party put his hands up in defense as you looked at him. “H-Hey, I was just having a little fun. I honestly had no idea that there was actually a demon associated with Christmas.”

“An unlucky guess then, huh?” You paused for a moment. “...but how’d you even hear about Christmas? Did Yaoyao tell you about it too? It seems like the talk of the harbor nowadays…”

That innocent line of questioning had a greater chilling effect than his popsicle, it seemed, as Chongyun froze at the moment. Xingqiu stepped in and quickly pushed his friend aside, your hand leaving the exorcist’s shoulder to linger in the air. “She did inform us of it, yes. It sounds like a quaint holiday, so it makes sense that a child such as herself would want to tell everyone she knows about it. I admit, it has even perked my interest too, from everything I’ve been told.”

“...huh, that’s nice. I’m glad everyone seems to be enjoying the concept.”

There was something off about all this, but not in a bad way, so you brushed it off for now.

Xingqiu nodded as he continued to smile at you happily. “But now that that’s settled, we should get going. I’m sure you’ve got a busy schedule, Your Grace. We wouldn’t want to hold you up.”

Chongyun blinked, coming back to reality. “Ah, wait-”

“Tsk, Chongyun, you’re still all red. You should have another popsicle.”

The exorcist didn’t get a chance to speak again before Xingqiu stuffed another tasteless frozen treat into his mouth, the latter then hurriedly pushing his flustered friend away down the street.

“It was pleasant to speak with you, Your Grace!”

The two boys soon disappeared into the distance, leaving you standing there alone.

“Uh… bye, I guess?”

- - - - -

Another day, another surprise.

You blinked a few times, making sure that the lady you were looking at was actually there. You didn’t exactly have a history of having hallucinations, but everything had been… bizarre this last week or so, and it wouldn’t hurt you to just check that you were still all there up in your noggin.

“Lady Ningguang?”

“Your Grace, what a pleasant surprise.”

The Tianquan was calm, politely greeting you with a soft smile on her lips, a smile reserved for you and you alone. Her being was a living display of high-class status, the epitome of luxury…

…and she was currently just hanging out at the docks.

You were not someone who could criticize her for it, though; for some people, it was odd for you to be hanging around Liyue Harbor’s docks so casually, as no one really expected to see one of the gods they worshiped watching the ships or examining the goods of incoming, docked ships.

“Uh… so, what’re you doing here? Taking in the ocean breeze?”

Ningguang chuckled. “I simply have business to discuss with Beidou. It’s nothing of concern, but is important enough that I have decided to come see her myself as soon as she arrives.”

“Wait, the Alcor is docking soon?” You perked up, your gaze glancing between the water and Ninguang, who looked at the water herself. “Wow, my timing’s great! Mind if I wait with you?”

“I’d see it as an honor, Your Grace.”

You got into position beside Ningguang, leaning forward slightly as you looked out at the ships sailing across the nearby waters. The operation at the harbor was always so smooth, orderly, and satisfying — you were embarrassed to admit how much time you had spent just lingering around the docks whenever you visited Liyue, being a bystander to the comings and goings of the ships and the people working here. This time, however, you were trying to focus on spotting the Alcor among the other seacraft, assuming its distinct design would stand out among them.

The moment was quiet, aside from the waves and workers, until Ningguang spoke again.

“Your Grace, I’m planning to do a bit of decorating around the Jade Chamber.”

“Oh?”

“I was thinking about adding a tree.”

You paused for a few seconds, before slowly looking at Ningguang. “A… tree?”

“Yes, a tree. Would you have any suggestions for the type?”

Wow.

You suddenly forgot about every tree you have ever known about.

“Ah, hmm… well, it’s your Jade Chamber. You should choose whichever tree you prefer. I know you’ve got good taste, and will be able to fit anything you choose into your amazing aesthetics.”

“I should choose, you say…? Very well.”

You soon settled back into a comfortable silence, continuing to wait on the docks with subdued excitement pumping through your veins, before finally catching the sight of the Alcor making its way over to the docks. It took a while for the ship to actually dock, having to navigate around the multiple others nearby, but the moment that it had, Ningguang and you made your way over to it.

You passed by some of the crew members unloading various types of cargo, before seeing the captain of the ship walk down the gangplank, who smiled when she saw you and the Tianquan.

“The Tianquan AND Their Grace are here to greet me? Something serious must be up, huh?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that!” You smiled. “I just got lucky to be here as you got back.”

“Haha, you flatter me, Your Grace. I’d typically consider myself the lucky one.”

Ningguang shook her head just slightly, her expression more reserved than yours. “Although it’s not of any major concern, I do have something to discuss with you, Captain Beidou. Shall we?”

“Huh, alright.”

Beidou gave you a nod as she walked off with Ningguang to talk, the two women leaving you on your own. You found yourself curious about what they could be talking about, but figured it would be rude to try and eavesdrop or force yourself into the conversation; that, and your attention was finding itself quickly caught by something — or, rather, someone — else that you noticed nearby.

“Kazuha!”

The lips of the wandering samurai turned up into a smile after he heard you call out to him, your form practically bouncing over to him. His eyes followed your movements as he turned to you.

“Greetings, Your Grace.” He gave you a polite nod. “You appear to be in good spirits.”

You waved your hand to the side, before letting it fall to your side in a loose fist. “Aw, I’m always happy to see you. It’s probably impossible to not be; actually, no, it definitely is impossible.”

Kazuha let out a soft chuckle, his shoulders bouncing with the tiniest movements. “Your words today are as warm as the mid-afternoon sun, Your Grace. I’m glad. How have you been lately?”

“Mmm… normal, I guess. Though it feels like something fishy is going on around the harbor.”

“Oh…?”

You held back a snicker. “Get it? Fishy? But, really, I feel like something’s up.”

“That’s troubling. I can lend you my assistance if you desire?”

“Huh? Oh, no!” You waved your hands in front of yourself, your eyes widening just a bit as you continued to smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing big, and, besides, I wouldn’t want to bog down our time together with worries. I don’t see you often enough since you’re always on the road, traveling.”

“Ah, of course. If you’d like to hear it, I’ve come up with some new poetry since we last met.”

“Oooh! Then go ahead and bless my ears, Kazuha.”

The hustle and bustle of the docks faded away as you chatted with Kazuha, intently listening to each and every one of the poetic words falling from his mouth. You even tried coming up with a few poems yourself, but it was difficult to do it on the fly; the praise Kazuha gave your attempts kept you from being discouraged, though some of the metaphors you tried to use felt a lot more poetic in your mind than when you said them out loud. You were in the middle of thinking up how to describe a certain line in your next masterpiece when you realized a lot of time had passed.

You felt a presence approach from the side, and looked up to see Beidou standing there.

Ningguang was nowhere to be found when you gave your surroundings a quick once-over, her elegant presence absent from the nearby crowds, and that meant she must have left long ago.

The captain looked between you and Kazuha, her smile apologetic when her gaze stopped on you. “Sorry, Your Grace, but I have something to talk about with Kazuha. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Hmm? Oh, well… that’s fine. I should probably be going anyhow. See you around!”

You bid the two farewell, seeing them respond in kind, and started walking away from them.

Beidou kept her eye on you until you were completely gone, and she turned to Kazuha.

“Okay, so, there’s this thing called “Christmas”...”

- - - - -

“Please accept my offering, o’ great adeptus, and bless me with your presence this quiet night.”

“...you don’t have to do that, Your Grace.”

The evening air was cool, gentle breezes rolling in from the distance and brushing against you where you stood on the highest balcony in Wangshu Inn. The lanterns from inside and hanging by the doorway cast a warm glow outwards, giving the balcony a cozy atmosphere despite how it faced the dark landscapes of Bishui Plain, the warm hues of the land hidden within shadows.

Your hands held tightly onto a plate of Almond Tofu — expertly and lovingly crafted by your own hands, you were proud to admit — as you smiled at the familiar figure that appeared before you, the sight of the inn’s resident adeptus never failing to bring you joy. The dim lighting made it hard to tell, as well as his usual distant demeanor, but you swore that he was looking a little flustered.

“Aww, why not? Everyone else does it.”

Xiao crossed his arms over his chest. “But you’re not “everyone else”.”

“Hmph.” You pouted, extending your arms out to present the Almond Tofu to him. “Here, you can at least take this. I made it special, just for you. I worked hard to learn the recipe, from the best.”

He stared down at the plate in your hands for a few seconds, before he slowly uncrossed his arms and carefully took it from you. The adeptus continued to stare at the food you prepared while you stared at him, the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks — you internally cursed to yourself about the lack of decent lighting in this moment — before he finally took the first bite.

You spent just a moment watching Xiao carefully savor your expert culinary craftsmanship, and then looked out at the water and shadowed silhouettes of the nearby mountains, leaning yourself against the wooden railing of the balcony. The wood was cold and rough within your tight grip.

“...you know, everyone’s been acting really strange lately. Not in a bad way, but still.”

Your lips parted as you sighed, adjusting your arms to have your elbows on the railing.

“Even the other adepti are being weird. I tried to visit Cloud Retainer in Liyue Harbor, but Shuyu told me that she was really busy, even though she’s normally willing to take a break to chat with me whenever I drop by. Don’t even ask me how the other two are doing, I spent a good amount of time looking around their domains but wasn’t able to find them. It just feels like… like I’m being left out of something; like everyone is hiding something from me. Something that feels… major.”

You turned your head to look at Xiao. “Would you have any idea why?”

The adeptus briefly paused, his gaze meeting yours after having seemingly moved to you while you were talking, before wiping off the almond tofu around his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I…”

He hesitated, his eyes shifting away from you.

- - -

“As one of the Divine Creator’s vessels, you HAVE to come.” Hu Tao had a wide smile on her lips, her hands clenched together into tight fists in front of her chest. “Besides, it’ll be totally fun!”

The adeptus looked uncertain, his gaze shifting to the man accompanying the funeral director.

Zhongli met Xiao’s eyes with a soft smile, giving him a nod as well. “Indeed. Their Grace seems to also be quite fond of this “Christmas” business. It would be a shame if you did not participate.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Hu Tao nodded frantically, bouncing into the space between the adeptus and her consultant to direct the attention back to herself. “Come on…! It’ll only be the other vessels and adepti there. There’s no need to be all cautious and standoffish about it, so what do you say…?”

Xiao still looked conflicted, his eyebrows furrowed, before soon letting out a sigh.

“...very well. For the Divine Creator’s sake.”

Hu Tao clapped her hands. “Yay!”

“Just make sure to keep it a secret from Their Grace, if you end up encountering Them before then.” Zhongli looked pleased with Xiao’s answer, although he was much calmer than his boss was. “It’s supposed to be a “surprise party”, so try to avoid spoiling its existence at all costs.”

The adeptus nodded, crossing his arms.

“Got it.”

- - -

You couldn’t say for sure what exactly was going on inside Xiao’s head, but the expression on his face made it look like he was having some kind of internal war with himself, a struggle with the proverbial “rock and a hard place” that left him not looking forward to picking either option he was presented with. This was probably the most readable his feelings had ever been to anyone.

“Uh… hey, you don’t have to answer, Xiao.”

The adeptus appeared to snap back to reality, blinking as he looked at you.

You slightly smiled as you pushed yourself off of the railing. “I can kind of assume what’s going on. I just wanted to make sure that I wasn't going crazy and seeing something out of nothing.”

Xiao’s lips parted, the softest exhale leaving them. “...I can’t lie to you, Your Grace.”

“Then just don’t say anything.”

You winked at him, your tongue sticking out from your lips. “And you should be busy eating the Almond Tofu I made you, anyways. It’s rude to speak while your mouth’s full, don’tcha know?”

Xiao briefly glanced back down at the plate in his hands, before he nodded.

“...okay.”

- - - - -

“Your presence is requested at the Jade Chamber.”

That was what you were told, but you weren’t able to think of any important reason of why that might be. You had always made sure to greatly distance yourself to the extreme from anything major regarding Liyue’s leadership — no political decision-making or “ruling with an iron fist” for you, even if some folks acted like your word was the single most important thing in all of Teyvat.

The Yuheng and the general secretary both knew that about you very well.

“Is… it for something important? Or does Ningguang just want to, like… play chess with me?”

Ganyu and Keqing shared a brief look with each other, before the former looked back at you, a bit of a nervous frown now on her lips. “It’s… nothing bad, but you should go see for yourself.”

“Here.” Keqing gestured for you to follow after her. “We can escort you.”

You looked down at Keqing’s hand for just a moment, before everything clicked.

The stranger-than-usual behavior of everyone lately… the random-but-very-frequent mentions of Christmas… and now you being requested to such a place as the Jade Chamber practically out of the blue. You even thought about how you couldn’t find a single one of the vessels around the harbor today, despite how you walked through the entire city front-to-back and back-to-front and side-to-side, checking each and every nook and cranny with the hope of finding someone.

You smiled.

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I can get us there quicker.”

You grabbed Keqing’s outstretched hand, the warm hue of her face matching Ganyu’s after you had grabbed the half-qilin’s hand too. Your grip was gentle but firm as you stood between them.

“You- Your Grace…”

“H-Hey, wait-!”

Within seconds, you heard the familiar teleporting sound resonate inside your head before you and your two current companions were warped up onto the platform of the Jade Chamber…

…only to hear a muffled thud accompanying a sudden cold, wet sensation that landed on you.

It felt like a worse version of getting an ice cube put down the back of your shirt.

The powdery substance slid off of the upper-half of your face after you blinked your eyes a few times, which revealed to you that what had just covered you was a thick blanket of snow, and it had also trapped Keqing and Ganyu, turning you three into vaguely self-shaped snow mounds.

You were completely befuddled at this situation.

Snow? At this time of year, in this part of Liyue, localized entirely within the Jade Chamber?

You attempted to shift around, eventually managing to catch sight of the cause of the surprise snowfall. There was a strange machine that almost resembled a snowblower from your world, water being poured into one end and snow coming out of an upwards-chute-like exit located on the other end. The snow coming out now fell softly to the ground, unlike what had just hit you.

The one who created the device crossed her arms, pushing her glasses up slightly.

“Hmph. If the Divine Creator wishes for it to snow, then one shall make it snow.”

“Wow, Aunty Cloud Retainer! You’re amazing!”

Yaoyao looked up at the adeptus with awe, clapping her hands with a bright smile.

You continued to look around — as much as you could in your new form as a snowman — and saw several others lingering about the area, all of which had been mysteriously missing today.

The musicians and performers were all gathered near a small stage that had been set up, doing last-minute checks and practice from what you could tell. You took a few moments to take in the sight of it before you snapped out of your thoughts and focused to hear them through the snow.

Gaming shook his hands out, Man Chai following his lead and shaking his whole body out. “Aha, I’ve been practicing for days and everything, but I’m still getting so nervous all of a sudden…”

“Pre-show jitters, huh?” Xinyan stood on the stage, fiddling with her guitar as she looked down at the Wushou dancer with a slight, unsure smile. “Can’t help but have them myself right now too.”

Yun Jin walked across the stage, her head tilted up to check the decorations hanging up. “Their Grace is so kind, there shouldn’t be any reason to worry… but I can understand the feeling.”

“Hey, hey, just don’t get so nervous you have a heart attack.” Hu Tao had the only smile near the stage free of hesitation. “The business would be nice, but it would be way too inconvenient now.”

There was another section where a buffet had been laid out, Xiangling hovering over the spread with her gaze flickering around to all the various dishes, almost like she was looking for anything that needed any last-minute adjustments made. Guoba stood on a chair next to the chef, putting his paws on the edge of the table as he looked between the dishes and at her with a happy aura.

“I had to make a few guesses here and there about the recipes, even with the advice from Their Grace…” Xiangling furrowed her brows before letting out a sigh. “I hope They like everything.”

“I’m sure They will.” Madame Ping had a gentle smile on her face as she glanced at the food the young chef had prepared. “It all looks and smells absolutely wonderful, there’s no doubt about it.”

Beidou nodded and chuckled. “Now, this is what I call a feast! You outdid yourself, Xiangling!”

“It all sure looks… interesting.”

Yanfei tilted her head, her eyes moving down along the long buffet table as she spoke.

“I… I’m having trouble making out what some of these dishes are, though.”

Xiangling smiled at the reassurances. “Oh, don’t worry. I can explain everything, if you’d like.”

Your attention, however, was soon captured by the main centerpiece of the whole occasion: a beautiful Sandbearer tree decorated with lanterns of all colors, all organized to create the most breathtaking sight you had seen all day. There were actually a lot of lanterns hanging around all over, now that you were conscious of their presence; it almost resembled Lantern Rite, in a way.

Well, a Lantern Rite that was being held on a very miniature scale.

“This is very pleasant.” Kazuha looked up at the tree, his hand over his chest. “I never imagined that a “Christmas tree” would look like this. It brings to the mind a kaleidoscope of Crystalflies.”

Ningguang had her arms crossed, also standing nearby to admire the tree she had put up and decorated to a degree befitting her luxurious aesthetics. “I was informed that the tree was to be decorated in lights and ornaments. I believe Their Grace will be quite pleased with the result.”

“Their Grace has some intriguing traditions from Their world.” Zhongli placed a hand to his chin in thought, his eyes briefly breaking away from the tree. “No wonder They spoke of it so highly.”

By this point, you were getting cold. Way too cold. So cold you felt stiff.

You shook the snow off as you took in a deep breath.

“Okay, that was an experience…”

“Your Grace?!”

You felt two dozen pairs of eyes land on your form as everyone’s head snapped towards your direction, the sound of your voice might as well having been a siren to their ears — your arrival had been expected to be normal, after taking the long route instead of the shortcut you chose to take instead, with some semblance of warning. You smiled bashfully, pulling a now-unconscious Ganyu and Kequing out of their snow piles since you were still holding their hands all this time.

“Hehe… guess I’m not the only one surprised at this surprise party, then?”

- - - - -

Today was the day you discovered how good Guoba and Man Chai made for living Warmies, your once-shivering and soaked body able to warm up and dry off after only a short but sweet cuddle session with them. The party couldn’t start until you were comfortable, after all… as well as until Keqing and Ganyu finally regained consciousness and also got themselves warmed up.

…and the start was unforgettable.

“Behold, Your Grace-”

Truly unforgettable.

“-for one has donned the appearance of a Christmas hero spoken of in tales from your home.”

There, standing in front of you, were some of the adepti, and although the three ladies and Xiao were in their human forms at the party, the other two men were not. That included Moon Carver, the one who had spoken to you first when they approached, who proudly stood in front of you in his stag form… with a glowing red nose — likely made possible by adepti magic, you assumed.

You briefly recalled telling Yaoyao and Qiqi about some stories related to Christmas, which, of course, included “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”. Turning slightly away for a moment, you raised a hand to cover the smile slowly growing on your lips as you tried to calm yourself down.

“Yeaaah…” Your voice wavered, you being unable to stop your eyes glancing to and from Moon Carver. “Christmas would’ve been cancelled if not for Rudolph. He’s a… a true hero, alright…”

The snort that slipped from your lips went unnoticed by Moon Carver, the adeptus preening at your approval. The planned festivities luckily continued on before you actually started laughing.

- - - - -

They had only had about a week to prepare, but the musical performance was probably one of the, if not the, best thing you had ever witnessed in your life; most everyone had gathered into a crowd in front of the stage as Xinyan, Hu Tao, and Gaming took their places in the spotlight. You were almost too enamoured with the show to notice how Yun Jin occasionally snuck a couple of glances at you from her spot in the crowd next to you, a smile growing on her lips at your own.

The musicians had taken the songs that you told — or, rather, sang to — them and used them as inspiration to come up with a brand-new Christmas song, complete with Xinyan’s rock guitar and Hu Tao’s iconic rapping. Gaming had even created a special routine to go along with all of it.

“Bravo!” You clapped your hands frantically after the performance finished, a whoop escaping your lips as you cheered. “That was… incredible! I loved it! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

The sense of relief that left the performers’ bodies was noticeable, their forms relaxing as your praise finally casted away all of the tension that had plagued them from their pre-show nerves.

“I’m glad, Your Grace.” Yun Jin smiled. “We only had so much time, but we worked really hard.”

“I can tell.” Your cheeks hurt a little from how much you were smiling, and you tilted your head. “I hope I get to see it again someday. That was way too good to be just a one-time performance.”

Gaming let out a chuckle, a sense of weariness in his tone. “I’d be happy to dance for you again, Your Grace. Just… I still need a moment to calm down from the excitement of the first time.”

“Oh-ho! But I’m ready for round two right now!” Hu Tao pumped her fists as she snickered. “I knew Their Grace couldn’t resist my excellent rhyming skills! I could do this all day, any day!”

Xinyan adjusted her grip on her guitar as she looked back at the stage they performed on. “Uh, I think we may have gone a little overboard with the pyrotechnics, though… even for me, heh…”

You followed the rocker’s gaze to the stage, seeing that it… kind of didn’t exist anymore, with all that remained being a stage-shaped pile of charred wood. Given that three Pyro users had used it for their performance, where they had turned up the heat to give you the show of a lifetime, you should have expected this, especially considering Xinyan’s track record with this sort of thing.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, okay, I think one performance is enough for today, then.”

- - - - -

“Wow, I didn’t know you had such an appetite, Your Grace.”

Xiangling’s eyes were wide as she looked at your plate, which was piled high with servings from the buffet. There was a little of everything, as you wanted to try all of the different dishes that had been prepared by the chef; some looked traditional, and very close to what you had described to her about, while others clearly had creative choices made during their creation. There were also some traditional Liyue dishes being offered — considering how many people were present at the party, Xiangling really made sure that there would be enough food for everyone to have their fill.

You held your plate carefully in front of you. “I can’t help it. Everything looks so good.”

It appeared that many others also held the same opinion, almost everyone filling up their plates with various dishes from the buffet. There were plenty of options; everyone could eat something.

“What is this…?” Ganyu observed a red jam-like substance in one of the bowls, tapping it gently with the small spoon that was provided for folks to scoop it. “It smells like some kind of fruit…?”

“Ah, that’s Valberry sauce!” Xiangling piped up and moved over to the half-qilin. “Their Grace mentioned a dish made with this type of berry called a “Cranberry”, so I had to find a similar substitute. You should be able to eat it, Miss Ganyu. It doesn’t contain any animal products.”

“What I’m more interested in is that!” Beidou pointed to what-could-be-considered the main dish of the whole spread, her eye and smile both wide. “Now that looks like something real special.”

Xiangling smiled as she made her way over to the captain. “That’s a three-bird roast called a “gooducken”. It’s a chicken inside of a duck inside of a goose. I had to do a lot to get it right.”

Beidou let out a long hum. “Oooh, that sounds impressive! I’ll have a big portion, then!”

“I should try something new too…” Keqing looked between her plate and the buffet, a small frown coming to her face. “...but all that I’ve got on my plate is Golden Shrimp Balls so far…”

“Ah! Chongyun! Qiqi! The cold dishes are over here.” Xiangling directed the two over to one side of the buffet table, waving them over while gesturing to the dishes. “There’s plenty for you to try.”

“Here, I’ll help!” Yaoyao scooped food onto Qiqi’s plate. “This looks good. Make sure to eat it all!”

“Okay.”

Chongyun held his plate away from Xingqiu, his eyes shifting between his friend and the food he was putting onto his plate. “Please don’t try to sneak anything spicy onto my plate this time.”

“Why, I would never.” Xingqiu chuckled, a hand held up in defense. “What a random accusation.”

“Your Grace…” Baizhu eyed your plate as you took a seat next to him, his gaze scanning all of the generous portions you served yourself. “I’m not entirely knowledgeable on how much a god can eat, but make sure not to overstuff yourself. I can’t imagine it’d be good for your stomach.”

“I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises!”

And after stuffing yourself full of Xiangling’s cooking, it felt like a happy mistake in the end.

- - - - -

The party was going well so far; after the performance and initial serving of food, it was nice to see everyone mingling together and having fun. You scanned the area, taking in the groups that the characters formed amongst themselves, before refocusing your attention back on what you were doing: being busy at the “Winter Weather Device” Cloud Retainer built for the occasion.

And snow was actually a lot more pleasant when you weren’t buried under a heavy blanket of it.

“Shenhe, if I ever get into a snowball fight, I’m recruiting you to my team.”

The woman stared at you, seriously. “I would slay all your foes if need be, Your Grace.”

“Aha… snowball fights aren’t that serious, but thanks.”

You continued to pat down the snow you held into a snowball, the cold flakes a higher-quality than what nature ever made. The water used to make them apparently came from the adepti abodes, which, of course, was why the snow was so soft and powdery, like from a fairytale.

“I’m…” Yanfei stood by you, also crafting a snowball in her hands — which shook slightly from the cold steeping into her fingers — at your insistence. “...not sure I see the appeal in this.”

“The appeal is the glory of victory over your foes.”

“...right.”

Yanfei left the snowball she had made in the growing pile by your feet. You watched the younger partygoers play in the snow, stomping around and making vaguely snowman-like structures out of the cold flakes, before you felt someone approach you from behind, and turned to face them.

“Yelan! Hey! I didn’t notice you were here, are you having fun?”

Yelan let out a soft exhale, the warm light of the nearby stone lanterns illuminating her face from below as she faintly smiled. “It’s hard not to have a good time when you’re around, Your Grace.”

“D’aw, you’re just flattering me. I know how you work.”

You snorted as Yelan chuckled at your comment, before a thought struck you.

“Oh! I just realized I haven’t seen you around for a while! Where’ve you been this entire time?”

“Places.”

“Doing what?”

“Things.”

You stared at Yelan for a few seconds, her gaze amused as she stared back.

“...okay, then. Keep your secrets.”

You played with the snowball in your hands, rolling it back and forth between your palms as you briefly pondered all of the mysterious — and probably legally-dubious — things Yelan must have been up to this past week and a half, before you were snapped out of your thoughts by the sight of a wrapped box being held in front of your face. The hand holding it was Yelan’s, the shiny bow adorning the tiny rectangular container bending in the gentle evening breeze that was blowing by.

The box was pushed into one of your hands, the snowball now held in the other.

“Here. For you. I hear giving gifts is a custom for this little holiday we’re celebrating, hm?”

“Where’d you hear about… no, wait, never mind. I’m not gonna get an answer, am I?”

“You know me too well, Your Grace.” Yelan chuckled again, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she smiled at you. “If you were anyone else, that’d be a problem. But if it’s you, it’s just fine.”

You had never felt so lucky to be yourself as you did right now.

“I suppose I’ll let you rejoin the rest of the party now. Everyone worked so very hard to put this whole thing together just for you, I shouldn’t keep you from rewarding them with your attention.”

Yelan turned away from you, glancing over her shoulder as she walked away.

“I’ll be watching. May we meet again soon, Your Grace.”

- - - - -

Despite all of the fun you were having, the party sadly couldn’t go on forever.

The daylight soon blended into night, and with it, the guests started to take their leave. The first to go were the youngest of the characters — Qiqi left with Baizhu and Changsheng, Yaoyao with Cloud Retainer, Madame Ping and most of the other adepti. Yaoyao had even started to doze off at that point, requiring her to be carried by Cloud Retainer. Shenhe also left with the latter group.

Then went the next youngest: Xingqiu, Chongyun, Xiangling, Hu Tao, Yun Jin, Gaming… before they left, you made sure to give both Guoba and Man Chai another extra tight hug for the road.

Those who had work the next day soon followed. Yanfei, Keqing, and Ganyu all gave you polite goodbyes as they left, and Yelan vanished into the dark as easily as she had appeared to you.

Beidou left after saying goodbye to you and Ningguang, who simply headed inside of the Jade Chamber after bidding you a good night. Kazhua left with the pirate caption, his farewell another one of his poems that you were unfortunately too tired to think of one of your own in response to.

The harbor seemed to glow below the Jade Chamber as the city’s lanterns lit up in the absence of the sun. You fiddled with the gift from Yelan in your hands, still wrapped up and unopened.

“Your Grace, would I be correct in saying the surprise party was a success?”

You brought your gaze back up from Liyue Harbor and turned to see Zhongli approaching to stand beside you, his arms politely folded behind his back and his eyes focused on your face.

You smiled, giving him a nod. “Oh, yeah! It was so much fun! And I’m definitely going to figure out how to thank everyone for it, especially Yaoyao and Qiqi since they planned the whole thing!”

His lips turned up into a soft smile. “I’m very pleased to hear you say that, Your Grace.”

Your gaze shifted from the man standing next to you to the roof of the Jade Chamber, and you waved at Xiao to come join you and Zhongli. The legendary boy-adeptus had kept his distance from most others during the party, opting to watch from the rooftops as an onlooker rather than an active participant in it, though you were just happy that he was near all the festive energy.

With a sudden burst of green and black wisps, Xiao was at your side.

You looked at the adeptus with an enthused smile. “Sooo… did you enjoy yourself, Xiao?”

“...as long as the party made you happy, then I’m happy, Your Grace.”

You clutched a hand over your heart. “Xiao… you’re too sweet.”

This felt like the perfect ending to a perfect celebration, and as you looked between the adeptus and the Archon, you only felt all warm and fuzzy — it was almost too much for you. Almost.

“Hey, I don’t feel like sleeping just yet. Let’s go for a walk around the harbor together.”

“We’d be honored to, Your Grace.”

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Things We Still Have in Common

Summary: In retrospect, Ford probably should have just warned Stan about the bunker's security system.

Author's Note: My sister asked me for a Gravity Falls fanfiction for Christmas, and wanted Stan and Ford trapped in a room together for 24 hours, so I put this together!

...

After hearing from Dipper about his experience with the shapeshifter, Ford makes it a point to head down to the bunker himself to check and see that it’s still secure.  It’s not that he doesn’t trust Dipper when he said they handled it, but the cryochamber Dipper mentioned pushing him into is fairly old, and Ford would just as soon make sure it’s still functioning properly.

So, after lunch, he heads down to the bunker, with a fair amount of tools to update the chamber if need be.

It’s been quite a long time since he’s been to the bunker, even after arriving back in this dimension, so he’s not surprised to find things moved around and changed.  Dipper did mention, with a fair amount of sheepishness, that they’d moved things around in the main observatory, and done quite a bit of damage in the tunnels.  Dipper might have oversold it a bit, however, because when Ford arrives in the observatory, he doesn’t find much damage apart from moved around papers and some flipped switches that appear to be long past use anyway.  The cryochamber is visible on one of the monitors, and the shapeshifter is still frozen inside, sure enough, looking just like Dipper.  The sight is more than a little unsettling, but at least he doesn’t have to worry about the chambers being on the verge of collapse.  There’s no sign of any thawing, or dripping water, or anything that would mean he had a time crunch in checking it over, and he doesn’t need to head straight in there.

He heads instead for the control console, and checks over the readings on the cryochamber.  It seems to be in good shape for the most part, and though he’ll need to replace the temperature modulator at some point in the next ten years, he did build it to last.

Ford writes down a couple notes in the third journal, which he brought with him, and is about to head back towards the entrance, when suddenly, a new figure appears on the monitor.

For a second, Ford wonders if the shapeshifter really has escaped and he’s seeing things, because he can’t think of many other reasons for Stanley to be down here in the bunker.  He’s carrying an armful of cans of “Baron Num Nums High Flyin' Beans,” and seems to be singing to himself.

Ford groans, but presses the button on the console that overrides the disinfectant closet’s doors, and marches over to it as Stan approaches the main room, making sure his irritation is plain on his face.

“Stockin’ beans for the apocalypse, do do do do,” Stan sings as he walks through from the tunnels, eyes closed and not seeming to have noticed Ford yet.

“Stanley,” Ford says, if for no other reason than to put an end to his singing.

Stan yelps and drops nearly half the cans as he opens his eyes and looks over at Ford.  He looks down at the cans on the ground, then glares back up.

“Great.  Thanks, Ford.”

“What are you doing down here?  This place is dangerous.”

“Relax, would ya?  The thing is locked up,” he says, gesturing to the cryochamber.  “And Wendy mentioned a whole bunch of cans of beans down here, so I figured I’d add to my stash for the apocalypse.  Hey, help me pick these cans up.”

Ford rolls his eyes and makes no such movement.  “You shouldn’t have come down here without my permission,” he says.

“Oh, excuse me,” Stan says, adding a fair amount of mockery to his tone.  “I’ve been pokin’ around your creepy inventions for thirty years, Poindexter, forgive me if I don’t start asking permission now.”

“I never wanted you poking around my inventions in the first place,” Ford says coolly.

Stan sets down some of the cans so he can shift around the ones in his arms, and starts singing again.  “Ignoring my brother, do do do do, ‘cause he’s bein’ a jerk, do do do do do do…”

Ford groans and turns to walk back into the control room, figuring he might as well give Stanley a taste of his own medicine.

He grabs his notebook, and is about to start back through the security room, when he hears Stan start walking again, sounding like he’s carrying far too many cans.

Ford turns around with a sigh, because if Stan’s going to insist on bringing all of the cans back Ford might as well take some of them, just to make the jangling of the cans quieter, naturally.  But before he can offer, one of the cans balanced precariously on top of the pile slips off, and Stan doesn’t seem to notice, too busy trying to balance another one that was about to do the same thing.

“Stan,” Ford starts, but he’s too late.  The can rolls just far enough into the control room for Stan’s foot to hit it as he steps out of the disinfectant chamber.  He tumbles down towards the ground, and all of the cans in his arms go flying— right into the security room.

“Wait!” Ford yells, leaping immediately for the control panel, but it’s too late.  Dozens of cans hit dozens of the alert panels, and the security mechanism slams shut at what to it is registering as a small army.  The disinfectant chamber slams shut and locks on the other side of the room, and an alarm starts blaring overhead.

Ford groans and turns a displeased look back on Stan, who’s currently climbing up from the ground.

“Uh,” Stan says, having the decency to look sheepish.  “Whoops.”

“Fantastic,” Ford mutters, sitting down at the control panel.  He hits a couple buttons, and the alarm shuts off, at least.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Stan says.  “Welp.  I’ve lost all of my beans.  You want to get us out of here so I can go home and mope in peace?”

“I can’t,” Ford says, glaring at him.  “With that many alarms, it stays up for 24 hours.”

“What?  Why?  Wouldn’t any intruders be pretty crushed pretty immediately?”

“Humans would, but they’re not what we were worried about when Fiddleford and I built the thing,” Ford snaps.  He tries a couple more switches to no avail, and sits back in his chair with a sigh.  “We’re stuck down here until it turns off.”

“Oh sure, and whose fault is that?”

Ford turns to him in bafflement.  “Yours?”

“I didn’t build a death trap for a security system.”

Ford leans forward to massage at his temples, then reaches into his bag, then pulls out the walkie talkie he’d given to Dipper in case he ran into some kind of trouble and needed to let someone know.  He presses the button.

“Dipper?  Come in, Dipper,” he says into it, and lets go.

“Great Uncle Ford!” comes Dipper’s worried voice.  “Are you okay?”

“Stanley set off the security system and we’re stuck down here for the next 24 hours,” Ford says.

“Hey, I wouldn’t have set it off if you hadn’t—”

“Will you two be alright until we get out?” Ford cuts him off.

“Yeah, I think so,” Dipper says.  “But do you need me to come there?”

“There’s nothing you could do anyway,” Ford says.  “Just hang out at the shack, alright?”

“Tell Soos to stay after,” Stan adds in.  “But I’m not paying him any extra.”

“Okay,” Dipper says.  “Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.  Over and out,” Ford says.  Dipper doesn’t say anything else, and he drops the walkie talkie back into his bag.

“So,” Stan says, a smugness to his voice that makes Ford immediately regret his life choices.  “They should just hang out at the shack, huh?”

Ford gives Stan a confused look.  “What are you talking about?”

“That’s what you said to Dipper,” Stan says, leaning against the console.  “That they should hang out at the shack.”

Ford goes over his word choices and kicks himself.  “It is the shack until the end of the summer,” he says, trying to put “I didn’t mess up, I said exactly what I meant to say” into his voice.  “And then it will go back to being my house again.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Stan says, because Ford has never been able to properly lie to him.

Ford rolls his eyes and turns back to his journal, scribbling “I am writing this down in order to ignore Stanley,” in small letters.

It seems to work well enough, because Stan just shrugs and goes to collect what cans of beans escaped the security system.

Ford leans back in the chair and closes the journal.  He’s not exactly thrilled at the prospect of spending twenty four hours here with Stanley.  At least neither of them are hurt, and since they’re in this room specifically, they’ll be able to tell as soon as the security system shuts off, and get out right afterwards.

Out of the corner of his vision, Ford sees Stan set five cans of beans on the ground by the door, which seems to be all that survived the crushing.  Stan gives a disappointed sigh and wanders over to one of the shelves on the other side of the room.  He starts to whistle to himself.

“Please don’t,” Ford says instantly.  “Being stuck here is going to be hard enough.”

Stan’s only response is to start to whistle louder.

Ford resists the instinct to slam his head onto the desk.

It is going to be a long 24 hours.

…

With every minute, Ford is regretting more not putting a clock down here.  He can always radio Dipper if he needs to know what time it is that badly, but he doesn’t want to bother the boy with something so trivial.  It’s not like knowing what time it is will make the time they’re down here lessen.  Besides, then Stan could mock him for blinking first, and Ford can’t let him win.

Eventually, he and Stan settle into activities.  Stan has begun trying to balance the beakers that were sitting on the shelves.  Ford hasn’t stopped him because he hasn’t broken any yet, and at least he’s not saying anything.  Ford is reading through his journal and making updated notes and additions, though he often doesn’t have much space to do so.  His drawings tend to take up a lot of space.

Ford would be perfectly content to do just that for the entire time they’re down there, but he also would be a fool if he doesn’t expect Stanley to ruin it at some point.

Sure enough, as Ford is going through Dipper’s entries and highlighting parts that intrigue him, Stanley speaks up.

“So, uh, did you build this place just to house your shapeshifter guy?”

Ford sighs, and doesn’t look up from the journal as he responds.

“Not at first,” he says.  “I wanted to explore Gravity Falls underground.  I had planned to expand the tunnels at first, before—” the Shapeshifter turned dangerous.  And before Bill showed up, and all but robbed Ford of everything he’d loved about Gravity Falls in the first place, made all of the anomalies he’d come here for seem like pointless wastes of time.

“Before the shifter guy happened?” Stan asks, cutting off Ford’s train of thought.

Ford sighs, making sure his exasperation is clear.  The response “Actually it was before I got shoved into another dimension,” pops into his head, but he swallows it down and nods instead.  It’s needlessly callous, and would just add more tension when they’re going to have to be here for a while yet.

“You know, if you wanted to explore Gravity Falls underground, there was a dinosaur cavern already sitting there,” Stan says.

“I read about it in Dipper’s journal,” Ford says.  “I didn’t know it existed back then.  I’ll probably make time to go there eventually.”

“Watch out for pterodactyls,” Stan deadpans.  “Glad to know I beat you to that, though.”

Ford grits his teeth and opts not to respond.

“Did you hear about how I punched it in the face?”

“Are you trying to start an argument?” Ford snaps, glaring down at him.

“It would definitely make the time go faster,” Stan says, giving Ford a grin that’s just a little too smug.

“Considering how quickly I beat you last time, no it wouldn’t,” Ford says, adapting a smug smile of his own.

Stan’s face drops into a scowl.  “Hey, you caught me off guard after I’d just run from a bunch of FBI agents through an entire town.  Gimme a break.  I bet you couldn’t beat up a bunch of zombies.”

“Please,” Ford says, rolling his eyes.  “Most of them are in an advanced state of decay.  I did physically overpower quite a few of them once.”

“Oh, please.  If you had, you’d have written it in your stupid journals,” Stan says, rolling his eyes as he looks back up at the ceiling.

Ford clenches his teeth.  “They’re not stupid,” he says, in lieu of revealing to Stanley the pages that he ripped out of the journal.  He doesn’t want to revisit those experiences anytime soon, and especially not with Stanley of all people.

Stan doesn’t reply with anything more than a grunt, before going back to picking up one of the smaller beakers and placing it on top of the one currently balanced atop all the others.  At which point, his streak ends and they topple over, several of them shattering on the ground.

“Fantastic,” Ford snaps, standing and pushing the chair back.  “I don’t have any way to clean up broken glass right now, Stanley.”

“I don’t see any other way to entertain myself here,” Stan snaps back, bending down to pick up the ones that aren’t broken and setting them back on the shelves.  “I didn’t come down here with plans to stay, I didn’t bring anything to do.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“Did I say it was?”

Ford groans in frustration and sits back down at the desk, getting back to work on the journal.

Stan doesn’t go for the beakers again, but instead goes and leans against the other wall.  He’s never been one to sit still for long, however, so Ford’s not surprised when he speaks up again before long.

“It grabbed Mabel’s pet pig, you know.”

Ford shot a confused look over his shoulder.  “What did?”

“The pterodactyl,” Stan says, crossing his arms and looking up at the ceiling in reminiscence.  “It uh, burst into the house and grabbed it right out of my hands.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Ford says, rolling his eyes and turning back to his journal.

“What, you’re not seriously gonna write in that thing the whole time, are ya?  We’re stuck here for a while, might as well reminisce for a bit.”

“I cannot think of any circumstance that would make me want to reminisce with you,” Ford says without looking up.

“And that’s just the kind of warm fuzziness that makes you so pleasant to be around, Poindexter.”

Ford drops his pen and spins around in his chair, glaring at Stanley.  “Need I remind you it’s your fault we’re here in the first place?”

“You think maybe if you’d helped me carry a couple of those cans we wouldn’t be in this mess?” Stan shoots back, narrowing his eyes.

“It’s not my job to help you with every hare-brained scheme you come up with.”

“Yeah, heaven forbid you have to help me out with something like carrying groceries.  Oh, the indignity.”

“I came down here for something important, Stanley!” Ford snaps, which seems to be the wrong thing to say, because Stan’s gaze darkens.

“Well,” he says coldly.  “If you don’t give a shit about my thing, why the hell should I give a shit about yours?”

Ford sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose.  “It’s fine,” he says.  “There won’t be any long-term harm done, it’s just a rather large inconvenience.  We’re just going to have to grin and bear it.”

Stan huffs, and grabs one of the cans of beans, yanking the top back until it opens.  He pulls the metal lid off and bends it until it makes a satisfactory spoon, which he uses to scoop the beans up and into his mouth.

“Beans?” he grumbles, nodding down at them.

“I think I’ll manage,” Ford says, spinning his chair back around.  “I’ve gone longer than 24 hours without food.”

Many times, actually.  Food isn’t always easy to find in every dimension out there in the multiverse, and there are quite a few instances he can think of having to go without.  He’ll make it until lunchtime tomorrow just fine.

He’s not expecting a response from Stanley in regards to that, but to his surprise, he gets one.

“It’s uh, not a skill you can just pick right back up, Poindexter.”

Ford turns and gives him a curious look.  “Excuse me?”

“Not eating for more than a day.  It’s not a skill you can just pick right back up.  You’ve had, you know, stable meals for a couple weeks now.”

Ford looks at him for a moment, not sure quite what that means.

“I know,” he says eventually.

Stan sighs, and shakes his head.  He sets his open can down, grabs three of the cans of beans off the floor and walks over to the console, then sets them down next to Ford.  “Eat ‘em when you get hungry,” he says, and walks back over to pick up his open can again.

“I mean it,” he adds when Ford doesn’t say anything.

Ford sighs but doesn’t object, then turns back to his journal.

He’ll end up eating the beans in a couple hours.

…

As the time drags on, the quiet gets more comfortable.  Ford gives Stan a turn in the chair eventually, since it’s the only real place to comfortably sit in there.  To his surprise, Stan quickly falls asleep leaning against the desk.

It’s probably close to night at this point, but Ford had figured they’d eventually try to sleep on the ground, since sleeping in a chair like that would be bad for their backs at this age.

To be fair, the ground probably wouldn’t be much better, but he still can’t help but notice that Stan seems far more comfortable than he should be, hunched over a desk like that.  Maybe he just never grew out of his ease with falling asleep in class?

Or maybe, Ford realizes with a start, he’s fallen asleep in a desk chair a lot these past thirty years.

Ford doesn’t want to linger on that thought for too long, so he sits down against the wall with his journal and starts sketching out plans to install a failsafe to the security system.  Best to avoid a repeat of this situation in the future, and it’s easier to work without Stan jabbering on.

He makes his way through a decent amount of the changes he’ll have to make and the overrides he’ll have to install before his focus is dragged away by Stan starting to mutter in his sleep.

Ford sighs, looking at Stan in part exasperation, part amazement.  Even when he’s asleep, Stan finds a way to break his concentration.

Ford keeps his gaze on him for a minute, trying to decide if this is more or less annoying than Stan’s periodic interruptions.  He’s thrown out of that internal debate, however, when he hears what Stan’s actually saying.

He’s muttering apologies.

Maybe he’s also done that a lot while asleep at a desk chair these past thirty years—

Ford pushes himself to his feet, walks across the room, and shakes Stan’s shoulder.

Stan jerks awake immediately, and is already swinging fists towards him.  Ford steps back, just far enough to avoid the swing of Stan’s fists.  Sometimes those multiverse instincts are very helpful.

It takes Stan a minute, but eventually he seems to shake awareness back into his head, and blinks a couple of times at Ford.

“You— ugh,” he grumbles, the tension slipping out of his posture as he rubs at his eyes.  “What the hell was that for?”

Ford doesn’t answer right away.  “You were being unintentionally vulnerable in your sleep and I didn’t want to know things you didn’t want to tell me” doesn’t feel like it will go over well.  But it’s true.  If there’s anything three decades in the multiverse has taught him, it’s that you don’t just go around sharing your secrets with anyone.  It’s dangerous.  And that’s definitely what he’s thinking about.  It’s the safety thing.  It’s definitely not just that he doesn’t want to force anything like that on Stan.

“You were talking in your sleep,” Ford says instead.  “I’m trying to work.”

“Are you kidding me?” Stan snaps, glaring at him.  “Let a man sleep, Poindexter.  It’s been a long day.”

Ford walks back over to where he’d been sitting before and sits down with his journal.

Stan huffs and puts his arms back on the control panel, then leans his head on top of his arms, shutting his eyes again.

“I have nightmares too,” Ford mutters, because he can’t help it.

Stan gives a very loud, obviously fake snore, and Ford pulls open his journal and gives up.

Stan does manage to fall asleep again, after a while, and the nightmares thankfully don’t make a recurrence.

Ford hadn’t thought that after forty years apart he would have anything in common with his brother anymore.  He wouldn’t have picked nightmares, if he had a choice.

Or food insecurity, for that matter.

In the end, Ford decides an all nighter is more appropriate.  There’s too high a chance that if he shuts his eyes right now, he’ll have a nightmare of his own.  Bill would come to pay a visit, if nothing else.  He wouldn’t miss out on a chance to show up and mock Ford for something like this.  Ford can’t be sure that Stan will pay him the same courtesy of waking him up, and Ford isn’t ready to be vulnerable either.

So instead, he finishes the plans for the security system override, turns to a new page, and sketches a drawing of what Stan probably looked like, fallen asleep at a different desk.

Purely to pass the time, of course.

…

Stan sleeps well into the morning, which Ford definitely doesn’t mind.  He gets one radio communication from Dipper, that it’s 7 in the morning and they have five hours left on the security system, and also that Soos is going to run the shack today.

That last part wakes Stan up.

“Absolutely not,” he says, before he’s even finished blinking the sleep out of his eyes.  “Tell him we’re opening late.”

“He can do it, Grunkle Stan!” comes Mabel’s voice.  “Besides, Dipper’s done a tour before, he can’t do worse than that!”

“Hey!”

“That is true…”

“Hey!”

“Oh, alright.  But you watch him, pumpkin.  You’ve got experience with bossing people around.”

“You got it!  Over and out!”

“Hey, I get to say—”

The radio cuts off.

Ford chuckles a little.  “So, do you think the place will still be standing when we get back?”

“Eh, I give it a 70/30 chance.  Apparently they did knock a new hole in the wall last time I let Mabel run things, but it was fixed by the time I got home.”

“You— I’m sorry?”

“Mabel and I made a bet.”

“Of course you did,” Ford sighs, though if the damage is already fixed he supposes he can’t be that upset.

Stan stands and stretches, with a couple pops in his back that sound rather painful.

“You’re up,” he says, jerking his thumb at the chair as he starts to walk around the room.

Ford gives a wave of thanks and walks over to sit down in the chair.  It definitely feels nice to sit on something cushioned instead of the cold floor.

“According to Dipper we have about five hours left, by the way,” Ford says.  Stan gives a grunt of acknowledgement.

Ford sets his journal open to the page where he drew the plans for the override, and spends the last five hours comparing his notes to the actual control console.  Stan takes an hour or so to wake up, then spends the time balancing the much less breakable bean cans in different ways.

The fact that they have less time to wait than they did yesterday certainly helps the mood of the room, but even so, by the time Dipper radios to alert them they only have an hour left, Ford can tell they’re both itching to get out of there.  Ford does his best to keep track of how much time passes in the last hour, since he doesn’t want to bother Dipper every couple minutes for an update, but the closer it gets to the time the system will shut off, the more Ford wants out of there.

“Gonna go home and make some food,” Stan mutters to himself at one point.  “And gonna have to thank Soos for watching the kids for so long.  Maybe I’ll just let him run the shack for the rest of the day, he would take that as thanks.”

“You’d just spend the day napping,” Ford says, and winces.  He’d actually been aiming more for teasing, but there’s far too much flatness to his tone for it to count.

Sure enough, Stan snaps back, “Yeah, and maybe I’ve earned it, huh?  I’ve had to put up with your ugly mug for the last 24 hours.”

“We have the same face,” Ford groans, looking up at the ceiling.

“Your point being?”

Ford grumbles and turns back to his journal, though he is most certainly out of anything interesting he could find it there.

And then, to his great relief, there’s the sound of loud clanking, and both he and Stan turn in desperate hope to see the tiles to the other room sliding back, leaving their exit from the bunker clear.

“Finally,” Stan groans, moving immediately towards the room.

“Stop,” Ford snaps, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him back.  “Don’t step on the tiles.”

Stan shoots him a dirty look.  “I know that, Poindexter,” he snaps.  “I came down here in the first place, didn’t I?”

Ford huffs, and pulls Stan back so he can slip out past him first.  He trusts himself more when it comes to avoid tripping, and he’s not going to get stuck down here again.

He hears Stan’s irritated grumbling behind him, but Ford just ignores it to turn on the radio and tell Dipper they’re on their way out.

“Awesome!” Dipper calls.  “I mean, uh, that’s good, Great Uncle Ford.  We’ll see you in just a bit!”

“See you soon, Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford!” Mabel calls, sounding thrilled at the prospect.

“See you soon,” Ford agrees, with a fond smile, though neither Mabel or Dipper could see it.

“Oh, and you don’t need to worry about food or anything, Soos made you lunch!” Mabel adds on as an afterthought.

“Yeah, alright,” Stan calls as they both head out of the security room and towards the front room, and head for the staircase.

“You want me to tell him thanks, Grunkle Stan?” Mabel asks.

Ford glances back to see Stan’s obvious distaste at the idea, but he responds, “Sure, pumpkin,” in a tone of voice that doesn’t let any of that through.  “But all of you prepare yourselves, ya hear?  I’ve got a whole day of annoying you knuckleheads to make up for.”

Mabel’s delighted giggles and Dipper’s exhausted groan both come through the radio.

“Roger that!  Over and out!” Mabel calls.

“I get to say that!  Hey, give me back the—” the radio cuts out.

Stan chuckles with a fond roll of his eyes.  Ford looks at him for another moment, then pulls his gaze away so Stan doesn’t think he’s staring.  Still, as they both start up the steps, it occurs to him that he might actually still have one more thing in common with his brother.

This one, he can’t say he minds that much.

[kiko---random-stuff-probably]

Loathing

Behold my favourite gay fishes "meet cute" except it was both at the wrong time and those two fucking hate each other. Astaroth's pov, happens shortly after Kallamar's accepts Asturas's proposal.

It was a dark night, a pretty calm one too considering that Astaroth's assignments that day were close to none.

However, he had the tedious job to escort the snobbish, prideful, golddigger and generally annoying creature that betrayed his ownblood (well, him and Shamura were not blood related, but the poibt still stands) just to suck after his god.

And for whatever unholy reason, said harlot (because that's what that bitch was) decided to spend some time on the balcony, even though the weather was horrible for any type of stargazing or whatever his excuse was: the air was cold, and that idiot wascovered by a fancy nightrobe that surely wasn't going to shield him from the cold.

Astaroth was still inside, even though the door was open, and both were just pretending the other was not there.

He was sipping a glass of wine, his left hand resting over his shoulder, and glanced to the ring decorating his right hand.

Kallamar let out a mix between a bitter giggle and a groan of pain, while clenching his fists.

Astaroth raised an eyebrow, trying to understand what was actually going on in the squid's mind.

He glanced at the clock in the room, before deciding to step on the balcony.

- Please excuse me, but our Lord was clear about how he wants you to rest. I have the duty to accompany you to your room.-

- I still need some time.- Kallamar repleid while staring once again at the horizon.

The jellyfish tried to see what he was staring at, but it was way too dark to see actually anythingsince the stars and moon were covered by a thick mantle of clouds.

However, Astaroth did know some geography.

- Are you trying to spot Silk Cradles?-

Kallamar flinched a little, and the guard did notice this.

Astaroth wasn't too sure about how to proceed, since while he had close to zero sympathy for that guy, he was also not too happy at the idea of spending even another minute waiting for a stupid idiot to stop moping.

- Homesick, maybe?- he couldn't help a bit of venom to slip into his words, and even when the squid was tightening his grip on the glass he kept talking - If I may give my opinion...-

- I do not care for the opinion of another empty headed good for nothing piece of shit-

- Pardon?-

Kallamar was now sideeying at the guard, his light blue eyes even more cold than the air around them.

He chuckled, casually the glass on the edge of the parapet before fully turning torwards the other, a smug, snobbish and slightly off putting smile over his lips.

- You heard me. Just another envious and insecure idiot who can't accept that while others are actually able to become something in their life, they are just stuck on the same social rank as some mindless monster.- he looked pleased as the guard started to show signs of irritation - a small one, to be precise- he specified, highliting the concept with an hand gesture - You know your meaningless lives will never improve so you try to tear down whoever actually does enjoy existing.-

It wasn't the first time he started to attack verbally other members of the court, expecially since basically everyone already was already sure he was an asshole.

It was, however, the first time a guard was stupid enough to actually respond.

- That's rich coming from a self centered asshole like you! There is a reason why no one likes you, and trust me, it's not because your are our god's new favourite fucktoy! It's because you are nothing more than a greedy harlot!-

Kallamar was for a second taken aback by the comeback.

Then, he chuckled and assumed a sarcastically surprised expression.

- How dare you say that! I... pfft- the squid broke out in a loud laugh - Sorry, couldn't keep a straight face at that... fucktoy? Really?- another giggle - We both know that if I was just that, I would not be hated this much. But while I know my worth, you don't seem as self concious as me.-

- You...-

- Let me explain this in a way that your small underdeveloped homunculus brain can understand. Your worth is determined by the amount of crops your dead body will be able to fertilize. So, shut the fuck up and rot like you're meant to do, okay?-

Astaroth clenched his fists, about to punch that asshole in the face.

- I wouldn't do that.- Kallamar said, his expression hardening - But feel free to try to attack someone who was raised by War themselves and get out without a broken limb.-

They both stared at each other in silence, one with pure rage and one with amusement.

Once satisfied, Kallamar took a step torwards the door.

- That was a lovely chat. Now, how about you escort me to my room? We surely do not want our Lord to get upset if I stay awake too long?-

Astaroth swallowed his bile, and complied.

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Dude. I have an idea.

Imagine a gn blind!Reader with yandere!Sonic or Silver, like— blind reader is so very dependent on them and always ask for help when needed, and the yandere is taking advantage of that..😈

This can be romantic or platonic, it's fine.

A/n: these are kind of crappy.

Yandere!Sonic/Silver x Blind!Reader

Sonic:

At first, he genuinely wanted to help. He offered to guide you across uneven terrain, described the world around you in vibrant detail, and chased away anyone who dared to make fun of your condition.

Over time however, that innocent desire shifted.

Sonic loved being someone you trusted. He slowly gound out jw lived being the *only* one you trusted, the only one you could rely on. He thrived on the way you clung to him when you were nervous, the way your voice softened when you asked for his help.

"Hey, Sonic," you called one afternoon, sitting on a bench in the park. "Could you describe the sunset for me again?"

Sonic’s ears perked up. He was there in an instant, sliding onto the bench beside you.

"Of course," he said, his voice gentle. "Right now, the sun is dipping down, and the light is more tinted a different shade. And its a but more dark right now. Half of the sun is jnder the horizon, so only the top half is peeking out."

You smiled, leaning closer to him. "Thanks."

He resisted the urge to wrap an arm around you, though it was getting harder to control himself these days.

He wanted you to rely on him for everything, to need him so completely that you couldn’t imagine life without him. It was messed up.. He could admit that.. But really, it would be better no? I mean, who else could take care of you better than him?

The opportunity came one stormy evening when you lost your eye dog, you do t know what happened to hin, one meoment he was there, and the next, gone. Panicked and vulnerable, you called Sonic for help, your voice trembling over the phone.

"Don’t worry," he said. "I’ll take care of you."

When Sonic came, he promised to look for your dog, that he would return him if he saw it roaming around. He's glad you couldn't see the guily look on his face.

From that night on, Sonic began to subtly sabotage your independence. He "accidentally" misplaced your cane, always made sure you were too distracted to practice using your other senses, and convinced you that the world outside was dangerous without him. He wanted you to think of him as your hero, your savior, your everything.

"You don’t need anyone else," he whispered one night as you sat together on your couch, his arm finally draped around your shoulders. "I’ll always be here for you."

And you believed him, why wouldn't you? He was your best friend, only wanted the best for you... Right?

Silver:

It started with small things, helping you navigate unfamiliar spaces, holding your hand a little longer than necessary, and offering to read aloud to you when you couldn’t access certain books.

He cherished the way you trusted him, the way you leaned into his touch and smiled so sweetly when he guided you.

"Silver," you said one day, your voice uncertain. "Do you think I’m a burden? I feel like I ask you for help too often."

Silver immediately shook his head, forgetting for a moment that you couldn’t see him. "No! Never. You could never be a burden," he said, his voice almost desperate. "I *want* to help you."

You gave a smile "thanks, i just get worried sometimes." Goodness... He loved that smile so much...

He began to manipulate your environment, quietly isolating you from others. He’d "accidentally" forget to pass along messages from friends or make excuses when they wanted to visit.

When you asked for help with tasks, he’d exaggerate how difficult or dangerous they were.

"Let me handle it," he’d say, his tone soft. "I don’t want you to get hurt."

One day, you mentioned wanting to get an eye dog, you thought itd be best as tou were mainly relying on your caine amd silver to get around. Silver froze, his mind racing. The thought of you not needing him anymore was unbearable.

"You don’t have to do that," he said quickly. "I mean, why put yourself through all that trouble when I’m here? I’ll always take care of you."

And you believed him, i mean, he was always helping you, he was probably right.

However you were unaware of how tightly he was wrapping himself around your life. Silver was always there, watching, "protecting", and ensuring that no one ̶could steal you from him hurt you.

To him, your blindness wasn’t a limitation, it was an opportunity to become the center of your world. And he wasn’t about to let anyone, or anything, take that away.

[sorinethemastermind]

'Til i forget what i felt in the first place

In which Rayla sings a lullaby, and Soren finds it oddly familiar. Co-written and edited by the supremely talented @honeii-puff! I write the Soren POV chapters, she writes the Corvus POV chapters. Also on Ao3 and it has a playlist!

They didn’t stop until the sun had disappeared from the sky the following day and the moon was rising. Soren was exhausted, carrying a far heavier load than the others what with his bulky armor. He was grateful to sit down and catch his breath when Rayla finally called for them to stop. Even she couldn’t keep going forever.

But it was once they’d stopped that the divide between the two sides of their little makeshift camp began to feel noticeable. Soren had chosen a large tree to lean against, unclipping the sword from his belt and lying it beside him. Runaan had settled against a tree opposite him, a little ways off into the forest. Rayla and Callum were quick to fall into place beside him.

It made sense. Runaan was Rayla’s Dad, of course she wanted to spend some time with him. And it wasn’t like Callum was going to ditch his girlfriend to come and sit with Soren. But still, it hurt. Just a little bit.

Not all of them being over there and him being here, that he didn’t care about. Rayla and Callum could sit where they liked.

It was just that there was nobody to come and sit beside Soren. 

He waited just until his legs had stopped burning before pushing himself to his feet and clipping his sword back to his belt.

“I’m going to go and get us some firewood.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? They might be able to see the smoke.” Rayla interjected.

“It’s going to be cold tonight.” Soren pointed out. “And I don’t know about you, but I didn’t pack a blanket.”

None of them could argue with that, so they let him wander off into the steadily darkening trees. Soren gathered wood until his arms were full and twigs were spilling out with every step. Unable to fit anymore, he found little excuse not to return to camp.

He got back to find them in a similar state as before; all huddled on one side of the small clearing, chattering amongst themselves. Callum said something that made Rayla laugh, and even coaxed a small smile out of Runaan (Soren was beginning to realize that that was as good as you were going to get with him). 

“I got firewood!” he said loudly, dumping it in the middle of the clearing. They all glanced up at him as he began clearing leaves and other debris out of the way.

“Could somebody hand me those stones?” he asked, gesturing to a small pile that had collected between the roots of a nearby tree.

Runaan passed them to him without a word, one by one, and Soren used them to build a ring to contain the fire. Sitting back, he inspected his work and wiped his forehead.

“That should do nicely.”

“It looks really good, Soren.” Rayla said, scooting closer. It was already getting cold. “Now how do we light it?”

“Uhhh.” Soren glanced around the space, thoughtfully chewing his bottom lip. “We’ll just have to use good old fashioned camping know-how.”

“I’ve got it!” Callum said before Soren could begin. He leaned forward, reciting some gobbledygook in whatever-language and tracing a shape in the air. His fingers moved too fast for Soren to make it out, and then they were sparking. He threw the little bolts of lighting into the bundle of dry twigs Soren had gathered and they burst into flame.

“There we go. Fire handled.” Callum puffed out his chest like some sort of strutting bird.

“Is that a new spell?” Rayla asked, turning to him.

“Yep.” Callum said, settling back with his hands folded behind his head. He snapped his fingers, a few stray sparks flying into the air. “Pretty neat, huh?”

“Very.” Rayla said with a playful smile. “There’s no mage quite like you.”

“You could say-” Callum sat up abruptly, throwing her a questioning glance. “Are you making fun of me?”

Rayla rolled her eyes. “Of course not, my most talented mage. I’m being entirely serious.”

“You are teasing me.” Callum chuckled, draping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her in for a quick kiss.

Soren glanced away, feeling a little awkward as the pair of them continued teasing and making eyes at each other. His gaze met Runaan’s as the other elf also looked away, and they shared a sigh. Soren smiled.

The fire burned long into the night, well after Rayla and Callum had - thankfully - reverted to their non-flirtatious selves. They could be so embarrassing, sometimes. Soren was glad he never acted like that.

He poked the fire with a stick. It was getting late, the moon already high above them. They were all on edge, waiting for someone to come barging out of the woods and… Soren didn’t know what. Arrest them? Tell them that King Ezran was disappointed in them? That would probably be worse.

The little creature (rat? monkey? lemur?) on Rayla’s shoulder chirruped, and she lifted it up, cradling it in her arms.

“Shhh, Stella. It’s okay. Go to sleep now.”

She cleared her throat, leaning back against the fall tree beside Callum and humming a soft tune under her breath. After a moment, she began to sing. “Though the sky is dark tonight, I still shine for you, my dear.”

The moon twinkled above them, and Soren settled back against his tree, feeling his own eyes growing heavy. There was something oddly familiar and comforting about the lullaby.

“The moon is more than just her light. I am near, my love is here.” Rayla crooned. 

Soren’s eyes drifted shut. 

Either the room he was in was large, or he was small. Very small. A voice came to him through the foggy echoes of memory, soft and low.

“Though you feel so much alone-” Soren was vaguely aware of a hand gently stroking the hair back from his face. “Oh, my darling, do not fear.”

He tried to place the voice - the touch - to a face. But the more he clung to the dream the more it slipped away.

“Hold to what you’ve always known. I am near, my love is here.”

Soren felt his chest grow tighter, and was suddenly aware of just how little air was in his lungs. The moment began to break apart at the edges, the pieces that remained growing in clarity as he struggled to draw in a breath.

The singer’s voice broke, but she didn’t stop. “Though my face cannot be seen, the answer in your heart is clear.”

Soren drew in a shallow, heaving breath. The hand brushed the damp, sticky strands of his hair back from his forehead.

“I am the moon, the silver queen.”

The face above him swam into focus, soft and kind. Her smile was sad, but warm. The moonlight filtering through the window above Soren’s bed reflected in her eyes, making them shine just like the little silver cuffs on her horns.  “I am near, my love is here.” Lissa told him.

[soulmatesinc-if]

i honestly have no idea what made me think of this concept (maybe it was the office. not sure) and i hope you don't mind reading almost 900 words of pure brainrot, but i wrote a thing to get myself in the holiday spirit and what better than to project my favorite pastime of eating every dessert i come across onto my husband favorite french ginger (no matter how ooc it might be). i apologize in advance to the people who may scroll past this, if there is a 'read more' option on asks, i did not see it 🙏🏽

The week before a holiday just means another holiday party at Soulmates Inc.

Sydni, surprisingly, doesn't mind the parties. She's not the most lively person in the world and she honestly doesn't talk to many people at her job besides Wyatt and Rachel, but the atmosphere is nice nonetheless.

The place was alive with chatter, laughter, and the faint strains of a Christmas playlist coming from a speaker somewhere (all the songs are very modern iterations of the usual classics, much to her very mild dismay). Some people chose to mingle near the buffet table, while a few other clusters nursed drinks and made small talk near the tackily decorated tree. The groups aren't too far off from what happens every other work day, with that select few crowding the water cooler or the printer for just a little too long, but now there's little tree and snowflake banners on the walls.

Sydni stood slightly apart from the commotion, holding a plate filled with neatly arranged brownie squares. She helped herself to one or two earlier in the party, but once she noticed that she was really the only person eating them, she asked the person who brought them if she could just take them all. She was only half-joking when she asked, but was definitely surprised when they actually said she could. Her stance against the wall was relaxed, her eyes scanning the room with quiet detachment as she absently bit into one of the squares.

She almost immediately took another bite once she heard footsteps, giving herself an excuse to not really talk to anyone, but decided against it once she saw it was just Wyatt.

He stops next to her, opting to lean against the wall for support.

“Whoever's putting these songs in the queue needs to be fired,” he says in lieu of a greeting, immediately fixing his sunglasses to rest atop his head.

She hums in agreement and Wyatt flashes her a smile. Then, just noticing the plate in her hands, his face brightens and an 'oooh' sound comes from his mouth before his hand lifts towards it.

Sydni pulls the plate out of his reach, earning her a confused look from him. She doesn't miss a beat. “I'm not sharing.”

“What?!” Wyatt's look of confusion immediately shifts to shock as he pushes himself off the wall and his hand flies to his chest.

“Did you seriously think that nobody saw you by the dessert table the past fifteen times you were there?”

She knows that he knows what she's referring to. In the hour or two that this event has been going on, Sydni has watched him leave the dessert table with something at least once every 5 minutes. He's lucky that everyone else has been too busy eating the actual food and socializing to notice, and he's even luckier that Sydni didn't care enough to call him out earlier. She saved her brownies and that's enough for her. But now he wants those, too, so she has to say something.

An instinctive noise of protest comes from him before he snaps his mouth shut. Wyatt's face twists into a picture of mock indignation, though the faint color creeping up his neck betrayed him. “Sydni—”

“Andrew,” she cut him off sharply, but there was no real venom in her voice. “I looked back at the table every few minutes and without fail, a new portion was gone every time. I actually like these.”

He heaves a heavy, almost pleading sigh before clasping his hands together. She always forgets how drainingly dramatic he can be.

“Sydni.” Oh no. "My friend. My confidant. The only person on my Beets & Dungeons friends list—"

“Christ.”

“—I am deeply, terribly sorry for being so selfish. I was swept away by the holiday spirit, you see, but I'm sure you don't want to hear my oh-so pitiful excuses.”

Sydni stared at him, her expression unchanging. She let the silence stretch between them for just long enough to make Wyatt shift on his feet a little bit.

...It shouldn't work. It really shouldn't work.

...

What was that about being swept away by the holiday spirit?

“...Three,” she said finally, her voice clipped as she slowly offers up the plate.

He perks up immediately. “Five.”

“Three.” He can't be serious.

“Four.”

“One.”

Wyatt's shoulders slump slightly in defeat as she plucks a single brownie from the plate. “...Okay.”

As he bit into it, his expression shifted from mock dejection to genuine delight. He gives her a playful 'can you believe this?' look before shaking his head with his brows furrowed.

Sydni glanced at him sideways, shaking her head but saying nothing. A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though she quickly smothered it.

He catches the flicker of amusement and grins again, still triumphant despite his loss of two extra possible brownie squares. “You’re too good to me. Cheers.”

Sydni scoffs before deciding to indulge him, picking up the square she bit into earlier to lightly press against Wyatt's before they both take another bite into their respective pieces.

He makes another delighted sound before they slip into a comfortable silence, opting to just watch their co-workers mingle around them.

The silence seems to get Wyatt thinking, though. He turns to her with an almost scarily genuine look. "This playlist is the worst thing I've ever heard in my life."

“I'm telling Eugene to change it.”

“Thank you, fuck.”

Oh