#yes this is somewhat inspired by the happy fits

[baby-foxes-and-frens]

Kevin Andrew and Robin as rock band but Kevin gets a fancy ass electric violin

[phyrestartr]

PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader

W/C: 6.9K (oh god lol) #NSFW, fingering, implied fucking, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is an actor, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), Gojo is an actor, Getou is a manager/agent, Toji is a stunt coordinator, Jin is a teacher tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @watyousayin 

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?” 

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle. 

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold. 

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him. 

“...No proof.” 

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you. 

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige. 

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational. 

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair. 

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you. 

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard. 

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?” 

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought. 

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.” 

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless. 

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.” 

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly. 

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly. 

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?” 

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.” 

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. The fuck did they want?” 

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.” 

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?” 

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you. 

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest. 

“For a kid,” you chastised with a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.” 

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.” 

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.” 

Man. Man. 

“A statement.” 

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.” 

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up. 

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.” 

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

Truth is out–Ryoumen Sukuna is the father, (Name) tells fans on social media!

Sukuna hated seeing that shit. The circus celebrities had to dance through used to be funny until he somehow got swept up into it. Until he suddenly had a baby boy that looked so much like him and so much like you. 

He spent too much time on your socials, scrolling through promotion posts and photos of you at red carpet events and premieres–and then he remembered you had a private account. One that you said he could follow. One that he never followed.

Sukuna rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he sulked in bed. Was he really about to sacrifice his pride for this? Was he seriously gonna request to follow your personal account just moments after articles dropped and tweets were sent about him being the baby daddy? Could his pride take it? 

Fuck me. This shit is highschool. 

He requested to follow, and not even a minute later, you approved it. 

That had him interested. Did you want him to follow? Did you want him to be part of his little guy's life? Were you feeling a rush of anxiety and excitement like he was right now? 

“Get over it, you fucking idiot,” he mumbled to himself before scrolling through your photos. 

There was so much more here. So many photos of you pregnant, of Touma when he was so ridiculously itty bitty, of when you were recovering in the hospital, looking worn out and exhausted, but still beaming as you held your little boy. 

There were photos of his first birthday and the cute��rustic cake you'd apparently made yourself. Your agent, Getou, was there, as was one of your fellow agency mates, Gojo, along with some other folks Sukuna did and didn't recognize. 

Of course, his boy–your boy lit up the centre, eyes glittering with the reflection of sparklers and the warmth of a good, safe home. He was happy. The boy–his boy–your boy was happy. 

Then he called you. He couldn't help it, not anymore.

Sukuna paced around his penthouse, sipping on his spiked coffee and trying to desperately control his…nerves? Alpha instincts? Excitement? Fuck, he didn't know. But he was full of whatever it was, and it drove him nuts.

“Hi!” You answered as you picked up, so full of life as usual. “Been a while. How're you? What's up?” 

Sukuna felt so, so old suddenly. Why were you so awake in the morning? 

“Think you can spare some of that pep in your step for me?” Sukuna asked. He smiled when he heard you laugh on the other line. “Dunno how the hell you're so awake in the morning.”

“Well, I don't party or work on cars until the crack of dawn,” you purred back, so sweet and teasing. Sukuna almost got hard. Ugh. Ugh. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Hah? What, you sayin’ I'm irresponsible ‘n make shitty choices, babe?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Tch. Omegas.” 

You snickered again before cutting to the chase: “So, you're calling about my Touma?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yeah. Gotta say I'm pretty fucking confused.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He heard you shift in bed, triggering a rumble of grumpy noises from your little one. You hushed him gently and apologized before the small, crackly purring resumed faintly in the background. The thought made Sukuna's heart ache.

“What do you wanna know?” 

Sukuna inhaled deeply. “Why'd you keep it?” 

“I wanted him,” you said. “Next question.”

“...When did you know?” 

“Mmh…I guess about a week or two after we stopped hooking up.”

“And you didn't say shit?” 

You went silent for a moment, and Sukuna felt his nerves tingle and prick. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't feeling betrayed. It wasn't any of that. Absolutely not. 

“I guess I got cold feet,” you admitted. “I don't--I know how many baby daddy accusations you get, y'know? I didn't want you to think I was just trying to get you to pay me out or something.” 

Oh. Okay. That made sense, actually. 

Too many omegas and women Sukuna fucked around with pointed the finger at him if they caught some sort of STI or fell pregnant; even if it was months after fucking, Sukuna would be suspected of fathering the pregnancy of a newly-pregnant, ex-partner he hadn't seen in eternities, and the media would run to the ends of the earth with it. He was the infamous bad boy the media circuit loved to prey on. And Sukuna didn't really care for it–not until now. Not until those fucks ruined his opportunity to be a dad. 

“Fucking–” Sukuna sighed and put his mug down to rub his face. “Shit. Shit. Fucking media bastards. Fuck.”

“I need to get my car tuned,” you said.

Sukuna deadpanned. “Read the fucking room, babe, we're not–”

“Do you want me to bring Touma?” You finished, undeterred by the alpha's grouchiness. “So you can meet him? I think he'd like that.”

Oh. Oh. Ouch. His heart–was Sukuna about to die? Why'd his chest hurt so much? What the fuck? 

Sukuna cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I–yeah? Yeah. Alright.” 

“Okay, cool. When's your next–” 

“Tomorrow.” He cleared his throat again and scratched at the back of his neck. “Any time.” 

You stifled a laugh poorly. “Don’t be nervous, Sukuna.” 

“M'not. Fuck you.” 

“I can do tomorrow. Let's saaay…1pm?” 

“Yeah, sure. 1pm.”

You rolled up at 12:59pm. 

Sukuna had the garage open, everything tidy and ready to go like he actually gave a fuck about tuning your car when his literal fucking son was about to be in his presence. But he was so not nervous. Definitely not fucking nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never. 

You stepped out of the car and Sukuna felt his heart jump; you looked the same as you did last time he saw you. You were dressed more casually, though, done up in joggers and runners with a university hoodie to top it all off. Clearly, you didn't care to impress today. 

You threw Sukuna an easy smile before pulling open the back door and taking care in plucking your chubby bunny from his car seat. All the while, Sukuna wandered closer and closer, but maintained a respectful distance just in case your momma bear came out to bite. He knew you had an impressive temper when your easy-going self got pushed too far, and he would rather not bring that out right now. 

“Pa!” Your son yipped as soon as he got up into your arms. “Puh Pa!” 

You melted immediately, punching Sukuna in the gut with your happy scent of maple syrup and cardamom as the little one nuzzled up to you, repeating variants of “pa!” as he rubbed his chubby cheeks and snotty nose against your neck and face to get that perfect scent onto him. 

“You're so sweet, bunny,” you cooed and adjusted him in your arms as you met Sukuna the rest of the way. “Hey, hey! So, did you want to meet him first, or–?” 

Sukuna didn't know what the fuck to do, honestly. 

“I, uh. Car shit first. What needs tuning?” He drawled, watching the pup clinging to you with rapt attention. 

Admittedly, Sukuna didn't really pay attention to what you were saying and what you were gesturing to; he was too captivated by the faint wisps of scent he caught from your little one. He smelled of smoke and syrup–a perfect combination of his parents’ scents. 

And he just looked so much like the both of you. Touma's skin tone tilted more your direction, but the glowy, bronzey quality that Sukuna brought to the table still shone through in its own weird way. His eyes were almond-shaped like his own, but bore the same, welcoming colour of yours. And, fuck, his hair was just a perfect match to Sukuna's. If the little shit got Maori tattoos too, he'd be a tiny carbon copy. 

Damn. Speaking of–would his mom wanna meet the little shit? Her grandson? Would she ever bother leaving Hawaii to–

“You get all that?” You asked. 

Sukuna stared at you. “Get what?” 

You pursed your lips like you so often did and turned to the big, bad alpha. 

“Maybe we should do the meet ‘n greet first, huh?” You swayed a little and kissed Touma awake. “Baby, you wanna meet a friend?” 

“Buh!” Touma exclaimed. You gently guided his little face to look at Sukuna, and the boy looked star struck staring up at the absolute unit that was Ryoumen Sukuna. 

“Touma, this is Sukuna.” You closed the gap between the two of you a little more, and Sukuna leaned down to look at the little one. His little one. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as he looked over the little thing. “You sure this thing’s mine? Looks a little small.” 

You laughed. “If you were born as big as you are, I’m so, so sorry for your mother.” You nuzzled Touma’s little cheek and bounced him a little. 

“Wuh!” Touma’s little arms flew up towards Sukuna, and the towering man looked a little more than nervous, looking at the tiny pudgy hands like they were deadly weapons. 

“Come on, don’t look at him like that.” You took Sukuna’s hand and delivered it to Touma. “He’s curious. He hasn’t met anyone as big and tall as you, y’know?” 

Sukuna huffed, but let the little one grab at his fingers and hold his hand. “What, you don’t have another alpha looking after you? Hard to believe that. You're the neediest little bitch I know.” 

“Stop. I'm not Yorozu,” you huffed, and Sukuna cringed at the name. “He has alphas around, sure. But not big ones like you–security excluded. It's not like other men want to play nice with another alpha's pup.” 

Sukuna caught the hint of a frown on your face, and his hackles started to rise. 

“Some dumbfuck giving you grief?” Sukuna asked, voice rolling with thunderous promise. He'd kill whatever moron fucked with you and his pup. You just had to drop the name.

You sighed, light-hearted. “You know what the rich and famous are like--we're the worst.” 

Sukuna growled, and Touma mimicked the noise as best as he could with his pathetically teeny tiny crackled voice. Fuckin’ cute as shit. 

“Tch. Don't sell yourself short.” 

“I'm just trying to say I don't need that around my boy, and I sure as hell don't want it around me, either.” You nodded and stepped closer as Touma reached up for Sukuna again. Apparently just holding his hand wasn't doing it for the boy anymore. 

“Good. Don't need those pathetic fucks around the runt–oi, wait, what the fuck're you–” 

“Wup, wup!” Your son shrieked as you helped bully Sukuna into holding him.

“He wants uppies.” 

“Uppies,” Sukuna balked.

“He wants you to–okay, you're bad at this–don't hold him like that! Here, do it like–” you cut off as you helped Sukuna get a comfortable hold on Touma while the littlest one squirmed and squeaked in delight, trying to climb up onto Sukuna's shoulder but failing miserably. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as you sighed, exasperated by the ball of energy trying to scale the mountainous man. But he got a hold of him, tucking his arm under his butt and holding his back to make sure the little shit didn't go plummeting to the floor. 

“You give your ma hell, huh? I can get behind that,” Sukuna hummed. His son's little hands papped at his face, grabbing at his nose and jaw–specifically over the dark tattoos streaking along the curves and cut of his features. 

And you smiled the entire time. You pursed your lips tightly to hide it, but you did it so poorly. You always did. Maybe it was on purpose. 

“So, can I tell you about my car problems now?” 

Sukuna held onto his runt while you explained what flaws, either cosmetically or mechanically, were bothering you. It mostly consisted of slight dents from other assholes not knowing how to park, paint scratches, and more of that sort. As a fellow car guy, Sukuna could understand the anguish of having a favourite baby get all dinged up. 

“Not hard to fix,” Sukuna decided. He held the hood up with one hand and looked over the motor–everything looked clean and well-maintained. He was almost impressed. “But, well, it'll cost ya. Uraume can send the details.” 

You nodded. “Sure, sure, sounds good. I'm never taking this thing on the road again after it's fixed. Too many fucking idiots out there with piss poor driving skills.” 

The mechanic smirked. “Ho? So beating up your car is what makes you start cussin’, huh? Noted.” He let the hood fall closed and adjusted his hold on the now-sleeping tot. “Couldn't even get you to do that in bed.” 

“Psht, don't say that in front of the baby, Sukuna, jeeze,” you sighed and rubbed your face. “Babies remember more than you'd like to know.” 

“Huh. You think he'll remember when he got–” 

“No, he won't remember his inception.” You laughed and shook your head, but paused when you saw smears of concealer on your fingers and tutted. 

“How long's the car gonna take? Should I get a rental?” You asked before the man could comment.

“Probably, if you want me to detail this thing right,” Sukuna mumbled. He reached out and turned your chin back to him, looking at the spots concealer missing, hinting at dark circles under your eyes. 

Your face grew hot, but you nodded and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay. I'll, uh. I'll call someone to pick us up–” 

“I'll take you home.” 

You brightened the slightest bit. “Yeah? I–okay.” You pulled his hand from your face and smiled. “I'll grab the car seat.” 

Sukuna liked your house. It was a nice mix of traditional and modern with large stretches of woodgrain and bamboo. A neat outdoor garden and pond decorated the front, but a bigger, more lush collection of tropical plants greeted guests. It was beautiful, if one was desperate to be in nature. 

“I'm just gonna get him to bed, be one second.” 

Sukuna nodded and pocketed his hands as he pretended to not watch you trot upstairs with the sleepy cub melting in your arms. You still had a nice ass even after popping that little melon out. Huh. 

He looked around your space more, wandering with slow, lumbering steps. The house wasn't huge by any means, but it was cozy and warm, quiet and hidden away from the city's gaze. That was probably why you chose it–here, you could be honest with yourself. You could shield your babe from the brutality of your career and keep him safe from leering eyes. Honestly, one of the leaves on your giant monstera could hide him from the whole universe. 

Guy's too obsessed with growing shit. It ticked him off, but he didn't know why. 

Maybe it was all the photos of you and Touma. Maybe it was because he wasn't in them and too many other men were in his place, lining your walls in the protection of cheap IKEA frames–but Sukuna didn't want you. No, no, Ryoumen Sukuna did not want anyone. He didn't want you. He didn't need to settle down and–

“You want a glass of wine?” You asked when you came back down the stairs. “It's plum wine. Don't really have any scotch or anything, but I–” 

Sukuna scoffed before a mocking laugh slipped out of him. You paused, looking at him with bleak attention as he shook his head and pocketed his hands. Your request for him to stay pissed him off; clearly, you expected something more from him.

“Whaddaya think is gonna happen here, huh? You think we're gonna fall in love, pick up where we left off, have a happy little fuckin’ family to tell the tabloids about?” 

“What?” You asked. “I never–”

“Didn't have to. Gotta admit, you did a better job than the rest of the whores that tried wrangling me in to–”

“All I asked,” you cut him off, voice quiet but firm, “Is if you wanted wine. I’m not proposing, Sukuna.” 

Sukuna didn’t like that. The whole…not-being-into-him and not wanting him to stick around after he just shut you down. He sucked his teeth and took a breath, about to say something, but you spoke first. 

“I know this is a PR thing. I know how the whole media circus works–you want your ex to stop bothering you, and I want people to stop asking questions about who the fucking father of my son is.” You paused, staring Sukuna dead in his eyes, a quiet, simmering rage boiling just beneath the surface of placid control. 

“Call my manager when the car’s done,” you decided, sounding beaten down and exhausted. “I’ll send someone for it. Thanks for the ride home.”

Next thing the man knew, he was ushered toward the door and stood in the doorway, stuck on the idea of being kicked out of his omega’s–no, no, out of an omega’s house like he was trash. 

“Fucking–wait, just–” 

“What?” You snapped.

“I could–glass of wine doesn’t sound too bad–”

You shoved the bottle into his hands and slammed the door. 

Sukuna tried to sleep it off–as in, he slept around to forget about the crushing weight of rejection collapsing down on him, shattering his chest, spearing his heart with shattered bone. 

You still kept being so fucking nice to him, too. You never slandered him, never spoke ill whenever he was asked about in interviews–you spared his reputation with a kind smile every time you had to talk about him or to him. 

And he was grateful for it, even if he didn't return the favor. It's not like he was on a smear campaign, no, but anytime a hook up would ask about you, he wouldn't give a glowing review, per se. But it wouldn't be scalding either. Just sheer indifference tainted with drops of bitterness stemming from unripe guilt.

It went on like that for months–until you did your parental duties, and set aside your feelings about Sukuna for the sake of your son.

“Uraume, get that,” Sukuna called as his phone rang. He was too busy fucking around under the hood of his latest project to wipe his hands free of grease and pick up himself, obviously.

But Uraume was there for a reason. They picked up the phone with a polite hello before their sharp frigidity melted into rounded edges. 

“(Name)-san,” they hummed. “It's good to hear from you. Do you need to talk to Sukuna-san?” 

Sukuna started wiping his hands off so unbelievably fast. 

“He's working on a car right now. You know how he can be when he's focused.”

“Fucking–piece of shit–what the fuck–” somehow, he got even more grease and oil on his hands thanks to that stupid fucking rag. God, what a nightmare.

“Sure, I can take a message.” 

“Fuckin’ shit fuck, fuck.” He wiped his hands on his designer jeans before running to Uraume and gesturing for the phone.

Uraume's brows raised, and they actually smiled. 

“Ah, hold on, Sukuna-san's here.” 

Sukuna snatched up the phone, ignoring the knowing look glimmering in Uraume’s eyes. Ugh. Ugh. Betas.

“Hey,” Sukuna said after clearing his throat. 

“Hey! Ume said you were working on a car? You didn't have to stop to talk.” 

“Yeah, well.” Sukuna shrugged to himself and kicked a scrapped car part, sending it skittering across the ground and clanking into other parts. Jesus, when did his shop get so messy? “Needed a break anyway.” 

“Ah. You work too hard, you need to take breaks more often,” you laughed sweetly. “So, listen, Touma's birthday's coming up–”

“Shit, seriously?” Sukuna grinned and kicked another chopped part. “Fuck. How old's the little shit turning?” 

“Two! He's growing up so fast, I wish I could slow down time and–” you paused and laughed, suddenly sounding unsure and a bit nervous. “Sorry, sorry, was about to go on a tangent. Anyway, there is a little get-together, but you don't have to come. Satoru and Toji'll be there. But your brother and his son'll be there, too, so it won't suck completely.

“Otherwise, if you want to come see him earlier or something, that's fine, and–and you're not cutting me off and I didn't think I'd get this far so I'm losing the plot.” 

Sukuna huffed. “What, you don't want me to fuckin’ listen, huh?” 

“I know you will since I have such a pretty voice, but I'm surprised you're being a good boy for once.” 

The mechanic rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. Who knows if it was to wipe away embarrassment or fatigue. 

“You��re exhausting.” 

“And you’re a dick.” There was a special brand of teasing bitterness behind those words, but the vibes were balanced perfectly; seemed you were still cranky about what he said, but you were willing to let it slide.

Sukuna chuckled, relaxing the slightest bit. “Alright. I don't know what the fuck kids like at that age, but I'll figure somethin’ out. I can at least show up Jin.” 

“Wow.” 

“Text me time and place. I'll be there.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll bring some plum wine. Fancy shit.”

The hidden rumble of a purr snuck its way out from your side, and Sukuna did everything he could to suppress his alpha's reciprocation.

“Sounds good. See you then, Sukuna.”

Toji answered the door. 

“Hah. Why the hell are you here?” The fuckhead ex-Zenin asked with a stupid, shitty smirk on his dumbass face. 

Sukuna strained not to throw the first punch. He really shouldn't murder someone at his--your son's birthday party. Murder is bad. Murder is bad. 

“Fuck you.” Hey, at least it wasn't murder. “‘M here for my fucking kid.” 

Toji crossed his arms and suddenly looked beyond bored as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“Your kid? You mean (Name)’s kid?” He wondered, putting on a show of thinking. “Weird.”

“You're one to talk. You forgetting what you did to your own brat? You fuckin’--”

“Sukuna!” Your sweet voice called, instantly changing the atmosphere. “Glad you came. Do you–oi, Toji, move, stop bodyguarding. You're not a bouncer.”

“Eh?” Toji stayed in his spot as you smacked at his arm and tried to push him away. “I'm just standing here. Not bodyguarding. Minding my business.” 

“You’re so full of shit.” You wheezed and squeaked as the man suddenly gave way, nearly making you crash into him and plummet to the floor. But you caught yourself and hissed at the dark-haired menace until he whistled innocently and waltzed away. 

“Fucking--why’s he here again?” Sukuna grumbled as you let him in. He leaned down to nose at your cheek with a grumpy, quiet grunt--typical greeting procedures for an interested individual or bonded pair. But the way you choked on whatever you were about to say meant he must've caught you off guard. 

“He's uh–we work together. We've worked together? He was the stunt coordinator for some movies I've been in.” You cleared your throat and took the present bag from Sukuna to place with the others. “And I babysit Gumi sometimes.” 

“Gumi? What the fuck is a Gumi?” 

“Megumi? His son?” Oh. Oh. “I babysit Yuuji too, so. Thick as thieves, y'know?” 

Sukuna nodded a little, thinking hard on the lore. He liked that Yuuji was taken care of by you, but surely that wretched Gumi could go somewhere else. Toji was probably just leeching off of you. 

“Oi, Momma, get in here,” Toji crowed from wherever all the baby giggles and excitement bubbled from in the house. “Your boys need some maternal guidance–” 

“Toji, don't make it weird!” Jin whisper-yelled before going on a long-winded rant about this and that, about proper behaviour and attitudes in front of children (not that the kids were paying attention to anything Toji did). 

You gave Sukuna a tired smile. “Come on. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

Sukuna sighed, but let you drag him to his demise, bottle of wine in-hand.

But it wasn’t that bad. Not really. 

Your other boys, Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru, showed up and showered tiny Touma with way too much praise and far too many gifts, but the little shit looked so pleased that Sukuna couldn’t get too annoyed. Shoko and Uraume came by, too, much to Sukuna’s surprise. Uraume brought with them a whole fucking confectionary cake they’d crafted themselves at home. Gojo obsessed over it and Getou tried to reign him in to no avail. 

And the night went on. No one talked shit, not unless it was in good fun, no one got fucking hammered, no one talked about work–it was all about the kids. Nothing else. No one else. 

Sukuna could never guess just how far that truth went.

When everyone left for the night, the alpha could start to see the edges of your smile fraying. But you held on, thanking everyone for the gifts and for showing up for Touma, and especially thanking Jin for offering to let all the little ones spend the night at his place (you and Toji would forever be in his debt). 

Then, when the door closed and all fell silent, he heard you cry. 

Sukuna didn't know what to do about people crying. He never had. Even when he was a kid, he had a hard time trying to comfort people with hugs and words of reassurance–he just couldn't do it. 

“It's okay,” he heard you whisper. “It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. It's okay. I'm okay.” 

Sukuna got up and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. “Sure about that?”

You jumped and clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. Sukuna barked out an ugly, reedy laugh while he defended himself from your petty smacks and pinches. 

“You scared the fuck out of me–why're you still even here? Go home! Shoo!” You wiped your eyes once you were done harassing him and turned away, busying yourself with cleaning up dishes and wrapping paper left in the aftermath. 

Sukuna followed you idly, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. What could he say? He loved seeing you get all petty and riled up. But he didn't love seeing you cry. He didn't love seeing you try to stealthily wipe tears away, to try and steady your shaky breathing. 

“What’s going on with you, babe?” Sukuna asked as he settled beside you at the sink. 

“It's nothing,” you said with a snuffle. “It's seriously nothing. Sorry, I--you don't need to stay. Or anything.” You sighed and rubbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “You've done your fatherly duties. You're free to leave.” 

“Yeah? ‘N what about my baby daddy duties?” He wondered, voice so horribly low and comforting, like the buzzing crackle of a campfire. 

You laughed, watery and shaky. “You already did everything you needed to, Sukuna.” 

“Come on, don't cockblock me like that.” He gently tilted your Chin his way to catch your eyes just like he had back at the shop all those months ago. “Look at me.” 

You did. Your eyes were red and irritated, whatever pretty boy make up you wore was wiped off and smudged, and those heavy, dark bags met the light in front of someone else for the first time in a long time. 

You still had the gall to laugh it off and pull Sukuna's hand from your face with a small, “I'm fine,” though. 

“Then why the hell are you crying?” He asked. 

You squeezed his hand with both of yours. “Things are just…hard. Overwhelming.”

Sukuna nodded a bit. “That why Jin took the runts tonight?” 

“Yeah. Needed some time, I guess.” You snuffled and wiped your face with both hands before finishing up with cleaning. “Makes me sound like a shit parent, I know.” 

Sukuna couldn’t disagree more. “Least you're not flipping out on the kid. That'd be way shittier, yeah?” 

“I don't know. I guess, but–yeah. I don't know.” 

Sukuna sighed and scooped you up like a new bride. “You're driving me fucking mental.”

“Sukuna–!”

“Quiet.” Your omega indeed piped down at the grouchy command, and you shyly let the man carry you up the steps to find your bedroom. “You're getting some damn rest. You look like shit.” 

You grumbled something Sukuna elected to ignore in favour of tossing you onto a bed the way one might lob a stone into a pond. You landed with a warbled squawk and looked at Sukuna with horribly accusatory, baffled eyes. 

Sukuna quirked a brow as he looked down on you, gladly using his broad build and tall stature to secure your submission. And it worked; the aggravated spark in your eyes curled up and fell silent after a few long seconds. Your head lowered just the slightest bit, too, but your passive gaze remained stuck on him, waiting for his next move. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. 

Sukuna raised his brows and eased onto the bed, caging you underneath him with his solid frame. Your scent flickered with shy playfulness, and Sukuna relished in it. 

“How do I know you're gonna obey, omega?” 

“I guess you don't. Not for certain,” you admitted begrudgingly. 

“Tch. Someone's gotta keep you accountable then, huh?” He nosed at your neck, nearly letting his lips touch your neck but refusing to do so in the same instance. “Make sure you're doing the right thing, make sure you're behaving.” 

One of his hands squeezed at your soft thigh before inching up little by little. Your hands found themselves in his hair as he teased at your joggers’ waistband, pulling the elastic taut before letting it go. 

“Sukuna,” you laughed, sounding a little breathless. “I, uh–I thought you said–”

“Changed my mind.”

“But–”

“Forget what I said and let me make you cum on my fingers, brat.” 

Oh. Well, hard to argue against that. 

You swallowed but gave a meek nod. He ripped your bottoms off and felt up your blazing skin with rough, calloused hands, groping and grabbing in the same spots he liked back when you were hooking up: your thighs, your hip bones, the squish of your stomach. As much as the man harped on about not wanting “damaged goods,” he sure worshiped your body like it was brand new, untouched. 

Sukuna brought his fingers to your mouth, and you took them with utmost compliance. Your tongue worked against his digits thoughtfully and thoroughly for your own sake–a lack of starter lube wouldn't end well, after all. And Sukuna was not the most patient man in the sack.

“See?” Sukuna crowed into your ear as his hand traveled south and a finger sunk into you. “It's not so bad to just behave, now is it?” 

You already felt like you were about to explode, and Sukuna savoured It. He liked being the one to do this to you–the only one for a while, considering how tight and sensitive you were. Any little push or prod inside you brought sweet sighs and soft moans to the surface–and a second and third finger had your hips bucking and your nails digging into his shoulder and back as he finger-fucked you to oblivion while still caging you in. 

“Good omega,” he cooed. “Gonna cum already, huh? Tch, you shoulda said no one’s been taking care of you; I would’ve taken my parental responsibilities more seriously.” His lips and teeth landed on your neck, as you curled up into him, body tensing, heels digging into the mattress, panting and gasping getting louder and faster. The sound made his pants strain even more. 

“Fuck, you smell fucking good. Better than when I fucked you the first time.” 

“I-I forgot you talked so much in bed,” you managed out. “Could you just–shut up?”

Sukuna growled, and you whined. “You want me to shut up, huh? You wanna listen to your slick fucking hole getting spread open, plowed into? You miss me that much, omega?”

“No.” You hissed and clung to his upper arm as he somehow managed to take it up a notch, slipping his fourth finger in and spreading you obscenely wide. 

“I think you did. Think you were hopin’ I’d come around, plow you into the bed again, stuff you full like no one else can.” 

“Sukuna–”

“I’ll fill this hole up all you want, baby–I’ll even stuff another pup in you. Twins. You want that, huh? You gonna be my omega from now on? Creaming on my cock ‘n fingers the way you shoulda been the day you walked your perfect, little ass into my life?” 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up–” you choked on a gasp and bit into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with drool and shuddered mewls while your body tightened and ecstasy hit like the weight of Sukuna’s words–brutal, fast, honest. 

Sukuna moaned in sympathy, ignoring the way his hand and arm cramped and ached to keep pistoning into you and draw out your high. He couldn't help it–something about you drove him mad in that moment. It could have been how you made his ego swell, it might've been the way his greed needed your slick staining his and only his skin, perhaps it could have been a quiet yearning coming from his lonely, hollow alpha. He didn't know. But he didn't question it. 

Your body started to relax with the death grip you had on his shoulder as you came down from the sudden, electric high. Your hips still jolted with every slow, lazy push into your soft hole, though a haze of purring and cooing filled the spot where gasps and moans once did. Eventually, you melted off of him and collapsed onto your back, looking as content as a cat lounging in the sun. 

“Oi, oi, you're not done yet, sweetheart.” But if you said you were done, he might've listened. Just that once. 

You hummed something as you looked up at him, eyes doey and so egregiously lovey-dovey. 

“That's a nice face. Make sure you save it just for me,” Sukuna gently commanded, and you laughed. 

“Demanding. I thought you didn't like used goods.” 

Sukuna scowled. “Shut up.” His free hand traced the stripes of stretched skin left in the wake of bearing his baby boy. “I like ‘em when they're used by me.”

“Does that really make them ‘used goods,’ then?” You murmured as if speaking logic too loud would break Sukuna's entranced obsession of you. 

But maybe, maybe, you had a point. 

“Guess I'll have to think on that.” His fingers slipped out of you and he gave you a wet slap on the ass to wake you up. Your subsequent squeak sure as hell woke Sukuna up. 

“Ow. Gross.” 

“I'm not finished with you, brat. Don't get too fuckin’ content, yeah?” He smirked when you glanced at his crotch expectantly. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

Sukuna sighed and settled between your legs as he futzed with his belt and button. “Could put up a bit of a fight.” 

“Too tired.” You yawned and stretched with a pleased sigh. “No will to argue.” 

The alpha leaned down to bite at your knee, and you pulled your legs together to avoid his chunky, rude fangs. You knew he'd delight in making you bleed or leaving dark bruises. He was the worst. 

“Still got a little fight left in ya,” Sukuna said with a grin. “Let's see how much more we can find, hm?”

[chrollohearttags]

musician eren brings y/n on the stage singing/rapping to her to a song he made about her🤭

omg this got me swinging my feet and smiling like an idiot 😭 y’all know I could write for dayssss about these two!

eren’s concerts were always a vibe. he was practically worshipped in the underground rap scene and his performances were truly where he came to life. crowd surfing, head banging..he really was a natural star. (this is the inspo behind his stage persona btw) Although each show is different and better than the last, there’s always two constants: a wild ass mosh pit and his girl (y/n) on the sidelines, screaming his lyrics to the top of your lungs. But tonight, he has a little something different in mind.

It’s the last night of the tour and y’all are back in his hometown so of course, he has to give it his all. Everybody is losing their minds because this is undoubtedly his best show and he’s really enjoyed himself. But he has something special planned and that’s a surprise for his woman. “There’s something that I wanna do here tonight..something that I could only do in my city..” speaking over the very excited crowd. See, he had proposed to you just shortly before going on tour and he felt terrible that the engagement was pushed to the side because of him so while everyone was asleep on the bus while you all went to the next city, eren was up, working as usual. He had been composing a song; working away at his laptop and making something that was very dear to him. And luckily it was ready right on time…next thing you know, you’re being escorted on the stage and everyone immediately recognizes you, even though his fanbase wasn’t your typical audience. But they welcome you with open arms regardless because they love him so much. All of you are waiting to see what he says and with your hand in his, he starts speaking:

“For those of you that don’t know, this is (y/n) (l/n), the most talented, beautiful and amazing woman I have ever met. To the world, she’s a model, a dancer..but to me? She’s my everything and shortly before I started this tour, I asked (y/n) to be my wife and by some miracle..she said yes.”

the crowd starts laughing and he cracks another joke. “Yeah, I don’t know how I pulled her either, bro cause damn..” showing you off like the trophy you were (we’re gonna say this is your fit too bc you a fly bitch at all times, okay?) you’re so flattered and just happy to be there. He goes on to tell them how you had inspired him so much and changed his life. But glaring right in your eyes, holding your hand..he becomes somewhat emotional and more vulnerable than anyone has seen him..”So this last song, I want to dedicate to my princess..my wife and the woman I can’t wait to grow old with..(y/n), I love you so much and I wanna thank you for everything you’ve done for me..” with that, he looks back at his DJ and commands: “Aye, play that shit.”

and suddenly, you hear a familiar voice: your own! Playing across the entire stadium and it’s a phone call that the two of you had one night..talking about your dreams and future together, playing over the beginning of a beat. “I already told you, we locked in forever…I love you, ‘ren and I’m so proud..you be on your shit and working so hard. I be praying that you’re okay and safe..I just want my baby to be happy..” “I got the best thing that could ever happen to me so I’m blessed..you know you got my whole heart, right?” “I know..”

immediately, everybody gets so emotional listening to you talk and knowing that their fav has somebody who cares for him as much as they do. “This is called (y/n)’s Interlude.” You’re crying before the song can even start but it’s when he starts singing and rapping that you really lose it! This is nothing like he’s ever made before but just like all his music, it’s perfect. He’s singing for the first part of it and he’s just doting on you. Telling you how much you’ve changed his life, that you’re everything he’s prayed for and that he’s so lucky.

by the time he gets to the end, you’re an emotional wreck and even though he rarely cries, he is too and pulls you in for a hug. And it’s such a sweet, touching moment. The crowd is in shambles and they all start chanting for y’all.

“Aye, she’s a part of our family now so y’all better be good to her.”

and when the crowd says they love you, you don’t know what to do! You probably look like a crazy, sobbing mess but it doesn’t matter. He honestly couldn’t have asked for a better way to end this tour.

[cuffmeinblack]

Lost and Found

Garreth Weasley x Ominis Gaunt

Tags: explicit | modern!AU | fluff | angst | loss of virginity | homophobia | heartbreak | happy ending

5.4k words

ao3 link

Summary: A love story told in five scenes.

A/n: Inspired by this art and written for the Weasley Wednesday prompt: AU! It's been a while since I wrote Garrinis and I've missed them a whole lot. It's hard for me to write anything but fluff with these two because Ominis deserves the world and Garreth is perfect to shower him with love and happiness. Still, I managed to make myself sad writing it.

One: You Had Me At Hello

"Garreth…Garreth, you're staring again," Cora's voice came from behind him.

"Wha- oh, shit!" 

Garreth's attention returned to the drink he was making, or rather making a mess of. That was one coffee he'd have to start again, much to the chagrin of both the customer and his supervisor. 

"Garreth," Cora sighed. "You can't spend all day staring at him."

He nodded and muttered an apology,  giving the customer a friendly smile as he picked up a fresh mug, but she was too distracted herself to notice. It had been three times in as many weeks that his eyes had wandered away from his job, and instead of his world-class coffee, he'd produced a syrupy, foamy mess all over his apron. Somewhat a fitting conclusion, considering the source of his disturbance and the absolutely lewd daydreams he'd been having.

Garreth couldn't take his eyes off him—goodness knows the blond was way out of his league and would likely turn up his nose so much as utter a single word to him, but that hadn't dissuaded Garreth from indulging in his fantasies. Ones where the boy's delicate, porcelain skin blushed under his own calloused and freckled fingers. He wondered what his voice sounded like, and that thought almost cost him the second macchiato he'd been making. Thankfully, he'd torn his eyes away just in time to deliver a mediocre drink to his loyal customer. He could practically feel Cora's eyes burning into the back of his skull.

"Take your break and go talk to him," she said, nudging him away from the counter.

"I'm not…I can't just go and talk to him…"

"Consider it a condition of your employment."

Garreth sighed, glancing back at her dark stare and crossed arms and deciding against an argument—she was deadly serious. He untied his apron and strung it over a hook in the staff room before steeling himself to do the impossible. What was wrong with him? He'd never felt this nervous around someone he found attractive before. Something about this mystery boy had his stomach in knots before he'd even come close to uttering a greeting, and when the time came that he stood in front of his table, Garreth was quite speechless.

He was even more radiant up close. The hint of blue eyes were cast down at a book as his delicate fingers traced over the…oh. There were no words on the pages, and only then did Garreth notice the white cane leaning next to the table.

Shit.

Well that certainly complicated things. Garreth was a decent looking bloke but now he had to entirely rely on his wit and charm. He was doomed. He must have stood there gaping for minutes before he summoned the courage to clear his throat.

"Er…hello," he said.

The boy continued reading, and Garreth cringed at his attempt at gaining his attention. Stepping closer to the table, he tried again, aware of Cora's scrutinising gaze on him from across the room.

"Hi! Sorry…," he mumbled.

The blond finally tilted his head towards his voice, revealing the most captivating blue eyes Garreth had ever seen. Devoid of pupils, they struck him as two swirling pools of crystal waters, icy hues with flecks of softest grey. 

"Ah, yes, of course," the boy said, pushing his empty mug to the edge of the table.

Garreth had been too busy bumbling and losing himself in his eyes like some lovesick puppy, he'd somehow given the impression of being a member of staff. Well, technically that were true, but that's not why he'd approached. He should have said something, but apparently this boy rendered him completely and utterly useless.

"Thanks!" Garreth squeaked back, taking the mug and retreating behind the counter with a furious blush and a whole heap of embarrassment.

To say he'd never seen Cora more annoyed at him would have been an overstatement, but the way her pale face pinched into a frown only heightened his unease.

"He uh…thought I was staff," he mumbled.

"Yes, I can see that," she said, staring at the mug still clutched in his hand as if it were a priceless artifact.

"I swear to God, Garreth…if you don't talk to him properly I'll fire you."

"You wouldn't. What about my loyal customers? There'd be uproar!" he replied, only half joking.

"You're not irreplaceable, especially if you can't make a simple drink in his vicinity," she said, snatching the mug away.

Her attention diverted to serve a nervous young lady who'd obviously overheard the entirely unprofessional exchange. With a groan, Garreth steeled himself to again approach the source of his distraction. He didn't have a plan, as with most things, but at least he could put right his first mistake.

"Hello again! Sorry to disturb you, I uh…well, I wanted to say hello. I'm Garreth," he said, sticking out his hand which lingered awkwardly in the air.

Of course it was, he couldn't see it. Idiot.

Garreth lowered his hand and helped himself to a spare seat opposite the boy, who's finger paused on the raised bumps of his book. Heavens above, what was it about him that made Garreth so bloody nervous? Was it the way he held himself so elegantly? Those piercing eyes that couldn't see but appeared to stare right into Garreth's soul? The blond gave off an aura of propriety—he practically oozed old money. Not Garreth's usual type, considering his own scruffiness that never seemed able to be tamed. His wild, curly copper locks were in stark contrast to the boy's slicked back mane with not a strand out of place…except that little piece that fell in front of his eyes when he bent his head…oh. Shit, he'd replied. Say something, Garreth!

"Uhhhhh…"

"I said hello, Garreth," the boy repeated with a soft, amused smile. "I'm Ominis. How can I help?"

Ominis. He had a name, which was far more than Garreth deserved so far with his poor attempt at introduction. Of course he had the voice of an angel; how could he not when everything else about him was so utterly perfect?

"I thought I'd say hello. I've noticed you in here quite a lot."

"You have?" Ominis asked, placing his hands in his lap and giving Garreth his full attention.

"Yeah…you're one of the few customers that doesn't drink coffee," Garreth chuckled.

"Ah, is that the reason? I confess I'm more of a tea drinker, but I enjoy the ambience here," he said.

"Maybe you'd enjoy coffee more if I made it for you," Garreth said, his confidence growing.

"You're certainly welcome to try," Ominis chuckled.

His soft, melodic laugh sent a tingle down Garreth's spine.

"I will, next time you're here I'll make you the best coffee you've ever tasted."

"I look forward to being converted. So, Garreth…do you do anything besides make excellent beverages?"

"Oh, yeah. I study here, this is only a part-time job. I'm guessing you're a student, too?"

"I am. English literature," he said, though he didn't seem elated at the idea. "How about you?"

"Chemistry ...oh, and I'm in a band."

He cringed inwardly, and outwardly, too—that line always sounded so cool when he told it to girls, but somehow when presenting this information to Ominis it sounded...ridiculous. Juvenile. If Ominis thought so, he didn't show it, only smiling good-naturedly.

"What music do you play?"

"Nothing you're likely to enjoy…"

"How could you possibly know what music I enjoy?"

"Well…I suppose I don't. Only that you don't exactly dress like someone who listens to punk rock," Garreth replied lamely.

"Perhaps not, but it makes very little difference to me what I look like."

"Right…of course…"

"I enjoy most music, as long as there's feeling."

Garreth almost opened his big mouth to ask if Ominis would consider letting him play for him, but was saved the embarrassment by Cora's stern voice cutting through the dreamlike haze telling him to get back to work.

"I have to get back to work. Can I…?"

Ominis handed Garreth his phone before he could even finish the sentence, and Garreth grinned as he accepted it, typing in his number whilst wondering if he'd hear from him at all. Perhaps he was simply being polite, but the eagerness Ominis had shown was hard to conceal behind good manners.

"Lovely to meet you Garreth…?" 

"Weasley. Garreth Weasley."

"I'm Ominis Gaunt."

Perhaps the name should have meant something to him, the way Ominis hesitated to say it, but all Garreth could think of for the rest of the day was the beautiful boy with the strange name.

-

Two: The Odd Couple

Ominis hadn't expected Garreth. He'd sprung out of nowhere when he least expected it, and made ripples through his otherwise stagnant life. Not just ripples, but a veritable tidal wave that dislodged Ominis from his melancholy and carried him to safer shores. One might be surprised to learn of Ominis and Garreth's relationship, but only when looking skin-deep. Apparently, their appearance was chalk and cheese, and their demeanours just as contrasting—and so, people called them odd.

Ominis disagreed wholeheartedly. 

How could they be odd if their hands fit together so perfectly? How could they be strange when Garreth never failed to bring a smile to Ominis' face? The muscles in his cheeks felt as if they had atrophied from years of non-use, until Garreth came along and provided him with much needed laughter. Ominis hadn't realised just how much he enjoyed the warmth of another body before Garreth had held him. In the space of three months, he'd learned so much about himself, by simply being around Garreth. 

And yes, he liked coffee now. But only when Garreth made it. One of his new favourite smells was the dark roast currently steaming in the mug he was cradling, the other happened to be the smell of cinammon and a hint of sulphur. Garreth's lab coat always gave off the most pungent odours after his classes, but it was still him.

Garreth was sitting on the floor of his bedroom as he often did, strumming his guitar. Today's composition was something pleasantly slow, a little sad, and terribly romantic. He could already feel the buildup of pressure behind his eyes that signalled an embarrassing show of emotion he tried hard to suppress, and the swell in his chest he so often associated with his boyfriend. He sipped his coffee and listened, allowing himself to feel anything and everything that the song's sweet melody elicited. As the last chord vibrated in the air between them, Ominis shifted on the bed and sighed, offering Garreth a soft smile.

"Beautiful," he said. “I could listen to your voice forever.”

“Hardly, but I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

The clunk of a guitar discarded against the wall preceded the warm and heavy weight of Garreth pressing between his legs, still kneeling on the floor. Warm hands encircled Ominis’s back as Garreth’s head was nestled into his thighs. Ominis smiled as he stroked those silken curls; another thing he'd not expected to enjoy quite so much. The rhythmic back and forth of his hand and the happy hums from his boyfriend let his mind wander, back to what he’d been mulling over during that rendition. Something terrifying and exciting that he craved more than anything.

Sex.

Three months was a long time to wait by anyone's standards, especially two men still riddled with teenage hormones. Garreth had been more than patient. It wasn't that Ominis didn't want to—very much the opposite. The days spent in each other's company were hard, but all the nights crammed into a single bed together were nothing short of agony. His heart yearned and his body ached for Garreth, yet so far he'd been a coward. Ominis had never been intimate with a soul; never had he allowed anyone else to touch him at his most vulnerable. It was a matter of trust to give oneself over to another completely, and whilst he trusted Garreth implicitly, Ominis had failed to gather the courage to ask for more.

Until tonight.

"Garreth?"

"Mhmmm?" he hummed happily from Ominis' lap.

"I'd like to sleep with you," Ominis said, trying to ignore his hammering heart.

"Of course. Let me just change the sheets…"

"No, I mean…"

"Oh."

No further explanation was required. Ominis felt the bed dip either side of him and Garreth's soft lips on his before he could draw another breath. His firm body pressed against him, warm and inviting under the numerous layers he wore. He'd have to dispose of those, once his hands stopped shaking. Garreth had all the restraint in the world as he peeled off Ominis' jumper, running slow kisses along his jaw, his neck, tongue finding his thumping pulse. Ominis tilted his head, so lost in his lips' caress that he hardly noticed his hands begin to unbutton Garreth's jeans or the rhythmic rocking of their hips.

Months of teasing and simmering tension had led to this moment; little wonder they were both stiff within seconds. The friction between their bodies set his body on fire, every inch restricted by these damned clothes felt like a prison when his skin burned to be pressed bare against Garreth's. His shirt was gently peeled from his shoulders and the fabric replaced by soft lips that tempted and teased. When Garreth nibbled his collarbone, Ominis lost all sense of self as he fell back on the bed and harshly shoved his own trousers down his hips. Gone was his calm, collected exterior; instead he lay bare, gasping and desperate to be touched.

"Garreth…," he sighed as the warm, gentle kisses trailed down his chest.

His muffled reply came as a hand wrapped around Ominis' cock and the most improper whimper left his lips. His world may have ended the moment he was enveloped by a warm, wet mouth. Garreth pulled salacious moans from him over and over again as his tongue flicked and swirled and whipped Ominis into a frenzy. His hands were in his hair, the sheets, grabbing anything he could as his hips bucked wildly into that amazing mouth, hitting the tight ring of muscle on more than one occasion. Garreth didn't seem to mind as he simply growled his approval whenever Ominis' cock slid down his throat. He needed to stop before he exploded right then and there, but how could he when it felt so good, so right, so utterly perfect?

"Stop, ah-! Stop, or I'll come," he managed to groan.

Garreth stirred in his lap, muffled moans vibrating against his length until his deliciously soft mouth left his cock with a pop. Ominis groaned, regretting his decision already, until Garreth's hoarse whisper filled his ears.

"Do you want to…take me, or…?"

Oh, yes. But more than anything, Ominis wanted to be on the receiving end of Garreth's touches. Underneath him, pressed into the mattress as his mouth and hands explored every inch they could reach whilst his cock buried deep inside him. He'd experimented, certainly, but his albeitly long fingers would be no substitute for what he knew Garreth sported in his trousers.

"I want you inside me."

His boyfriend growled with uncontained lust and Ominis' heart found its way into his mouth, suddenly apprehensive, nervous that Garreth might lose himself too soon. He needn't have worried—his caress was featherlight despite the heaviness of his breath and throbbing of his cock against Ominis' thigh. 

"I'm going to get some lube now, okay?" Garreth said.

Ominis nodded, listening to the rummaging in the nightstand drawer. Those strong, calloused hands spread his legs, exposing him completely, yet he felt safe. Garreth was so gentle, whispering in his ear and exchanging sloppy kisses as his fingers teased and prepared him. Ominis arched his back and wriggled his hips for more, please. Garreth sensed his impatience and gave him a long, searing kiss as his fingers retreated, and replaced them with something far larger.

"Let me know if you want me to stop," Garreth whispered.

"I will. But I won't."

"Are you ready?" 

"Yes…yes, please," Ominis gasped, surprising himself with just how pleading his tone was.

Garreth groaned into his mouth, his fingers in Ominis' hair as he pushed inside him. Fuck, it stung, but heavens above he felt incredible. He'd so far been trying to keep his audible pleasure as muted as possible, but the moan that left his lips vibrated off the walls and filled the room and surely far beyond. The last of his composure broke down as Garreth buried himself to the hilt, his hand cupping Ominis’ face as their foreheads pressed together. This was intimacy as he’d never known it; their noses brushed and soft sighs mingled in the air between them as Garreth let Ominis adjust to his size and relax around him.

“How does that feel?” Garreth murmured against his lips.

“Incredible. You’re incredible.”

Not ‘you feel incredible’, just ‘you are incredible’. Perhaps that was the closest he’d gotten to admitting his true feelings, which were both terrifying and all-consuming. 

Three months, twelve days. 

That’s how long it had taken Ominis to admit to himself that he was in love with Garreth Weasley.

-

Three: The Fall

Ominis couldn't help but smile whenever his phone read the words 'incoming call from- Garreth Weasley'. Perhaps he was a fool for falling so hard, so fast. He ought to rein in his feelings, lest he end up with a broken heart, yet Garreth was so easy to love. When Ominis was with him, he could forget the rest of the world; all of his worries, every crushing pressure that threatened to break his already fragile heart. 

Ominis was no fool—he knew how others must view him. They saw his clothes, heard his name, and immediately thought they'd sussed him out as another spoiled trust fund kid with far too much money and very little else to offer. Some days, Ominis believed them. What would he be without his family, after all? A poor blind boy with a brilliant mind, but born into a cruel world rife with discrimination. Garreth only saw the Ominis he wished that he himself could perceive. 

Ominis answered the phone the way he always did.

"Hello, sunshine."

The nickname seemed so befitting for Garreth that he found it hard to be embarrassed about it.

"Omi! Can you meet me after work? I have a surprise for you," his slightly fuzzy voice came through the speaker, no less beautiful amongst the static.

"Of course—five?"

"Yep, I'll see you then!"

"Was that all?" Ominis asked.

"I have to get back to work. Cora's on my arse to finish my break..."

"You know you could have just texted me?"

"Then I wouldn't have been able to hear your voice."

Ominis' cheeks burned as he exhaled a contained chuckle through his nose. 

"I'm glad you did. See you later."

I love you.

Instead of saying that, he hung up. Perhaps the first time shouldn't be over the phone—it should be somewhere and sometime more befitting the gravity of the words. When Ominis was curled up in Garreth's arms after spending the night together, maybe. He'd had plenty of those, yet the words hadn't materialised. No matter, there was still plenty of time. 

He had a couple of lectures to attend before meeting Garreth, but still time to pop by the library for a few much-needed books. He'd picked a challenging subject considering many of the books he'd study weren't available in braille. Some were available as audio books, and some had been miraculously made available to him by the good graces of the University—or rather, his father's heavy influence and deep pockets.

His phone vibrated in his coat as he walked the steps up to the library, and the robotic voice announced something far less desirable than a call from Garreth.

Speak of the devil…

'Incoming call from- Father.'

His gut twisted as it always did when he was forced to talk to his family. It would be unwise for him to simply ignore the call, as much as he wished to. With a great sigh, he sat down on a low brick wall and readied himself before answering the annoying buzzing with a terse greeting.

"Father. How can I help?"

"Ominis. How are you?"

As if he cared.

"I'm fine. How are you?"

As if he cared.

"Very well. I'm calling in regards to a rumour I've heard regarding your conduct."

"My conduct," Ominis stated bluntly.

"Yes, your conduct. How you conduct yourself about the University. Your company has raised some concerns."

"My my, father, if you have something to say then please be out with it," Ominis said, not sure we're his sudden confidence was coming from.

Perhaps it had bubbled up from the pit of rage in his stomach.

"You've been seen with some scruffy boy. In his dormitory, around the campus. Not only have you been indiscreet, your choice of partner leaves much to be desired."

"To whom?"

"To me, Ominis."

"And what, pray tell, is the purpose of your call?"

"You know very well. I'll not have you galavanting about with some boy like some poof."

"Ah, therein lies the problem. I am a poof."

"Despite your disappointment, you're still my son…but I will not tolerate such disrespect. I got you where you are now, boy, and I can reverse your good fortunes just as quickly. Goodbye, Ominis."

The line went dead before Ominis could spit back a retort; perhaps for the best given how furious he was—he must have been attracting quite a bit of attention. His hands were shaking such that his cane rattled on the stone pavement. Anger quickly became secondary to his fear—his father was many things, but he was not a man who issued idle threats. It didn't surprise him that he'd been keeping an eye on him whilst at University—likely under the guise of concern for his poor, blind son. Ominis knew the real reason, and his father had just made it abundantly clear with that phone call.

He must have sat on that brick wall for hours. He missed his first lecture, and decided to skip the second, retreating to his dormitory with a numb backside and an even more numb emotional state. He barely managed to get out of bed to meet Garreth after his shift. Of course he knew something was wrong with Ominis, his concern showing in the way he touched him more gently, the way his voice was softer and an octave higher. Ominis tried to put the conversation out of his mind, but how could he ignore something so life-altering? For a few hours, he put on a poor façade of contentment, whilst his mind slipped deeper into melancholy. He kissed Garreth that night as if the world was ending, and he was quite sure that it was.

-

Four: Gone

Six months. Six months it had been since his heart was ripped out of his chest and soul torn asunder. Garreth was by nature a happy person, full of optimism, but what Ominis Gaunt's departure left behind was a husk of his former self. His friends tried their best to help, but as soon as he was alone, Garreth let the darkness take him. He'd wallow for hours, days at a time, not quite knowing if he'd feel a desire to leave his bed again.

Ominis had left without a word. His phone number went straight to voicemail. His dormitory lay empty. Garreth had asked around and been told he had deferred a year, and that he would be back in September. Garreth wasn't sure if the thought comforted him or made it worse—he still wasn't sure as the month rolled around.

Things were a little better now, thanks to Cora. His job had been a godsend, truth be told, even if he couldn't help the surreptitious glances to the table that Ominis had once frequented. All Summer break, he'd thrown himself into his part-time job, his music, his art. All the little things that made him happy, despite the gaping chasm left in his chest. True, it sometimes felt hollow when he wrote a new song when Ominis wasn't there to hear it, and the drawings he made were often of him despite his best attempts at anyone, anything else. He was trying, though, and each day got a little easier…until the start of term approached.

"Don't go looking for him, Garreth," Cora said, face set into a hard stare.

"I won't," he promised.

He wouldn't go looking, but he might happen upon him whilst walking to and from lectures. Garreth wasn't sure what he wanted—perhaps just to know that Ominis was alright. He should hate him, but so far he'd not managed to muster the feeling. The first week came and went and Garreth didn't see Ominis. He didn't see him whilst crossing the courtyard outside the English building twice a day, nor in the coffee shop when he worked. He didn't find him lingering in the library or outside on the lawn in the shade of the oak tree he loved so much. If Ominis had returned, he was a ghost.

It wasn't until a week later that Garreth finally found him. He'd not even been looking, but the cane was hard to miss when it smacked into his leg.

"Ominis," he gasped, unbelieving.

The pressure built behind his eyes and his throat constricted; his heart hammered and breath grew shallow; there was no angry outburst nor demanding of an explanation, only relief and overwhelming hurt.

"G-Garreth?"

"Yeah, yeah it's me. Sorry, I'm in your way."

"You're not. Well, you are, but I'm glad you are."

A silence grew that Garreth didn't know how to fill, only able to stare at the boy he still loved and commit every edge, every mark, every pore to memory in case he didn't see him again.

"I'm so sorry," Ominis whispered.

Ah, there were the tears that followed the words he'd wanted to hear for the past six months. Garreth was weeping in the middle of campus, and he didn't care as Ominis' arms wrapped around him, hesitant and unsure. He wanted to ask him to hold him tighter, but this moment was fragile, and Garreth couldn't run the risk of breaking the spell.

"Tell me why you left, then you never have to see me again," he managed to say through the tears.

"I told you everything in my letter, it was the truth, but…things have changed, admittedly."

"What letter?"

"What do you mean? The letter I left for you before I…"

Ominis looked panicked as Garreth looked at him through bleary eyes, rapidly blinking away the tears as he tried not to follow suit.

"I didn't get a letter. Tell me you're joking."

"Why would I joke? I left you a letter explaining why I'd left. It was cowardly of me, I should have told you…you never got it? You never knew?"

"No, I never knew."

"Garreth…"

Ominis held him tighter, then, and Garreth squeezed him back. Garreth was sure his heart would soon burst from his chest or he'd simply throw up on the ground, but he managed to ask Ominis to sit with him. They sat on the grass where they'd shared their first kiss and Ominis told him everything that the letter contained. He'd pinned it to his door, but it had been taken before Garreth had a chance to read it.

"I believed my father when he said I'd amount to nothing without him. He's told me as much since the day I'd learned to talk. So I took a gap year, hoping that…you'd forget about me."

"So we can't be together because of your homophobic arsehole of a father?" Garreth asked furiously.

Ominis winced and shook his head with a sad smile.

"No, he's no longer a problem. I regretted my decision almost immediately but I admit I was too ashamed to return. I've spent the past few months working and saving enough money to cut ties with my family."

Ominis took a shaky breath before continuing, his piercing blue eyes fixed into the distance and pricked with tears of his own.

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I want you to know that it was you who gave me the strength to finally say no to my father. You…you made me feel more than just a shadow of him."

Garreth sat in stunned silence for minutes just watching the passersby. His brain ached with the deluge of new information. Everything was raw, shocking, unbelievable. 

"Why didn't you find me and tell me?"

"Why would you want anything to do with me after I left?" Ominis asked.

"Because I love you. I love you and if I'd told you that maybe you wouldn't have left in the first place."

There it was; Garreth's heart laid bare. The truth he'd been too scared to tell Ominis before he left and spent half a year trying to deny. 

"I love you too, Garreth. I always will."

He wasn't sure if that changed things, not yet—there was too much to mull over, too much to consider. Garreth stayed silent, simply placing his hand on Ominis' in the long grass.

"Garreth?" Ominis whispered into the breeze.

"Mmm?"

"I'll spend the rest of my life trying to regain your trust, if you'll let me."

-

Five: Forever

Forgiveness and love were said to be fickle things. Ominis hadn't thought he'd deserved the former. The latter was implicitly given; Garreth owned his heart, and had done so since the day they had met. The turbulent and beautiful and incredible years ran through his mind as he stood outside the room that would change the course of his life forever. Perhaps it would have been easier for Garreth to walk down the aisle, but Ominis was loath to rob him of his first look—it was the least he could offer. They had planned every detail for themselves, unshackled from the demands of his family and bolstered by the love and support of Garreth’s.

Ominis chose to hold the arm of a dear friend as he walked, the comforting warmth that stayed the shake in his hand a much better prospect than his cane. Sebastian had been an excellent best man so far, even if his stag ‘do left a lot to be desired. All was forgiven as Ominis wrapped his fingers around his forearm and took a deep breath that didn't fill the depths of his lungs. 

“You’ve got this,” Sebastian muttered as the doors opened.

Why had they chosen such heart-wrenching music for this part? He was already fighting back tears and he’d barely stepped in the room. All Ominis could do was focus on his breathing and the tight grip he had around Sebastian's forearm. The walk was an eternity, made all the more agonising by the sobbing from Mrs Weasley, yet he finally made it to the end and was promptly scooped up into Garreth's arms. They'd not even exchanged vows and their lips were pressed together, holding each other as if the other might choose to bolt at the last second.

After that, it was all a blur. Words were said, tears were shed, and not one minute went by that Ominis' cheeks didn't hurt from smiling. He'd completely forgotten the vows he'd prepared, yet the right sentiments came spilling forth anyway. He'd told Garreth exactly what he meant to him; nothing short of his entire world. It was no secret what had transpired in their University years, yet it would only be mentioned briefly amongst the outpouring of love. The 'blip', as they called it, had shaped their relationship, their entire lives, but inevitably led them here. Ominis wouldn't change a thing, and neither would Garreth.

"You may now kiss," the registrar said to the eruption of cheers and claps.

Oh, thank God. Ominis clasped Garreth's cheeks so tightly he might have torn his head clean off his shoulders. Their first kiss as a wedded couple was quite the display, but Ominis couldn't quite bring himself to be embarrassed. It was hard to keep their mouths together amongst the grins spreading rapidly across their faces, and a clash of teeth later they pulled apart laughing and clasping hands.

Three years, eleven months. 

That's how long it had taken Ominis to make Garreth Weasley his forever.

[linksthoughtbrambles]

The Seeds of Love, Well Worn

A gift for @newtsnaturethings for Midna's Merry Mixup! I'm sorry this is so late!!! I am officially saying Newt is also a coauthor of this fic because it is based on a very old, very silly conversation we had that was so much fun! This fic was also inspired by "The Calamity of Link's Cargo Shorts" by @zeldaseyebrows! It is excellent and should be read!! A big thank-you to @bellecream for beta-reading! This fic is also available to read here on ao3. Post-TotK Zelink, Canon-Compliant, Rated T, ~9,400 words

At first, Zelda thought nothing of it.  After all, Link was entitled to some eccentricities.  He couldn’t be the legendary hero if he were ordinary, could he?

Certainly, his renewed desire to play hide-and-seek with the koroks struck her as odd.

And yes, his sudden willingness to spend time away from her also seemed odd, especially as he’d clung to her so fervently since her fall from the sky—why insist on leaving her behind now?

Perhaps he wished to give her uninterrupted time to pursue her studies.  She’d shooed him from her well and atrium often enough, though always with a smile.  And yes, she’d been busy with concerns in all corners of Hyrule, leaving her less time to attend to her new garden, and she’d been frustrated with her efforts to populate the lovely pond Link had built into their plateau—had she been short with him?  Had she seemed distant?  Perhaps she’d hurt his feelings.

“I apologize sincerely, Link,” she blurted that night over dinner.

He blinked at her, all blue-eyed owl.  “Huh?”

Apparently not.

His spectacular grin an hour later as he tossed her on their new bed confirmed it.

Definitely not.

--

Her concern grew as Link traveled further and further afield.

“Link- must you find them all?” she asked.  “Surely that’s unnecessary.”

“I need more Korok seeds,” he said.

Her eyes flew wide.  “S- eeds?”

“Yeah!”

“Ah.  And… how many of these have you collected?”

Link shrugged and jammed his hand in his korok pouch.  It emerged overflowing with tiny, golden nuggets.  A few fell to the floor as the distinctive scent invaded Zelda’s nostrils.

“Link-“

He deposited them on the table-

“Link-”

-and reached back in, his fist again brimming with the deceptive little pellets.  Zelda’s nose wrinkled as she waved her open palms in the direction of his belt.

“Link, this is our dining table!”

“So?”

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t you want to count them?”

“Well- not here.”

Link blinked at her.  “Why not?”

She stared at her erstwhile knight, helpless to shut her jaw.

He didn’t know, did he?

She supposed it had never come up.

To be fair, they did look somewhat like seeds.

“How many fistfuls of these would you estimate you have in there?” she asked quietly.

“Oh, fistfuls?  Maybe…” he scratched the back of his head with a squint toward the ceiling.  “Maybe about twenty?”

Zelda blanched.  “And… that’s not enough.”

He snorted.  “Noooooo.”

His obsession struck her all the more strangely.

--

Link would stop at nothing.  In short… he would create a mountain out of a molehill, right there on their dining room table, a tribute fit only for a king.

Or so Link seemed to believe.

She began to wonder if he was unwell.

The Rasitakiwak Shrine activated up the hill just before sunset.  Link bounded into her garden at an unreasonable pace.

“Hahaaa!” he kissed her cheek with an intentionally long, wet smack and a shoulder-squeeze.

Zelda couldn’t help but giggle.  “Link!”  She then wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder.  “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” he said.  “I got sixteen today.”

Zelda’s smile became quizzical as she wondered if he’d washed his hands.

--

“I’ll be on Hebra peak all day!” Link announced with a sideways smile and two fists proud on his hips.

Zelda tried to appear as though she were not at all worried, and that she was, in fact, happy for him to be so excited about visiting an incredibly dangerous high-altitude frozen wasteland on a whim.  “The peak, specifically?” she asked, voice bright, though the slight curl of her lip may have given her away.

“My korok sense is tingling,” he said.

Zelda’s cheek twitched.  “I wasn’t aware you had one.”

Link pulled a leaf-shaped mask from his pouch and donned it with a ya-ha-ha.  It explained nothing.

She clasped her hands before her with a deep breath.  “Will you allow me to accompany you this time?”

“Nope!”

She sighed.  “Why ever not?”

“You have things to do!  I know you want to-“ he began to count on his fingers- “jam a Zonai charge in that guardian-claw-contraption with Robbie, zip to Lookout Landing and see if Purah’s gotten any Zonai abilities working with the purah pads, weed and water your garden, do your measuring and extracting stuff there, see if any of those frogs you caught are still anywhere near our pond, go to Hateno and check how our critters are doing there, check in with Symin about the school… I mean- you have a lot going on.”

Zelda shook her head.  “You’re not wrong, Link, but perhaps you might stay with me today?  Can the koroks wait until tomorrow?”

He hesitated.  He removed the mask to scratch his nose.  “Well- I mean, will they still be there?  Yeah! They’re shockingly dedicated to their game, which… is weird considering Hestu stopped playing with them seven years ago.”  Link squinted, his eyes defocusing a bit.  Zelda kept her laugh silent—a mere flurry of quivers of her diaphragm.

“Huh,” Link finally said, shaking his head, his eyes forcibly wide.  “That is really weird, isn’t it?  But… I kind of have to hurry.  Even if the koroks are… insane.  Or messing with me.”

That struck Zelda as disturbingly likely.

Link nodded, apparently resolute despite his targets’ nebulous motivations.  “I should go today.”

She couldn’t help her falling face.

“Aw,” he said.  He stuffed the mask back in his pouch, took her in his arms, and curled himself around her, pressing a kiss to her hair.  “You miss me?”

“Yes,” she said, a little sheepish.

He held her tighter.

Then he bear-hugged her.

“Heh- Link!” she smiled, pushing at him playfully.

“It’ll be worth it,” he said.  “Really.  Please trust me?  I promise there’s a good reason.”

“Can you tell me?” she asked.

He loosened his hold and kissed her forehead with the softness of a cloud.  “If I could, I would.”

She studied his eyes a long moment.

He certainly appeared to be his usual self.  His eyes sparkled with mischief, with his ever-present love for her, and with that shadow she’d seen in him ever since she’d fallen into the depths, whisked into another time.

The shadow- it worried her, kept her worrying beyond what would otherwise be reasonable.  He’d never been the same.

She could even feel it in the cadence of his breath—shortened without apparent cause, always a twinge on the end of each, a restlessness in his fingers as he held her.  They just kept moving, even when his hands were still.

Why this would drive him to scour the countryside for korok droppings, she didn’t know.

She ought to enlighten him about that at some point.

--

It ended on an unremarkable day in late spring, as suddenly as it began.

Zelda had no explanation.

Link said nothing of it.

His korok-seed fever simply ceased.

She wondered if someone else had revealed their nature to him.

He spent two entire days never leaving her side.  The most accurate word she could think of to describe his mood was ‘barnacle.’

Zelda-barnacle.  Yes, that was it, she thought as she clipped a sample off one of her more mature sundelions, his chin on her shoulder, his nose in her hair, his eyes on her work, and both his arms wrapped securely about her middle.  Even his legs were flush to hers a good measure of the way down.

That night, the sound of the shrine’s transport platform reached her in her sleep.  She opened her eyes to find Link gone, his place in bed beside her cold.  She heard him enter the house soon afterward.

He returned to bed and wrapped his arms around her as though he’d never gone.

“Where were you?” she asked quietly.

He kissed the crown of her head.  “Kakariko.”

“Why?”

He chuckled.  “Can’t tell you.”

--

He made several more clandestine journeys, each time unsuccessful in the sense Zelda knew he’d gone.  He always returned to bed, and she always asked where he’d been.

“Kakariko.”

“Kakariko.”

“Hateno.”

“Hateno.”

“The korok forest.”

That one made her sit up.  “Oh?!”

He laughed.

She squinted down at him, his bare stomach shaking with mirth.

She squinted hard.  “So many koroks…” she said.

“Hm.  True,” he answered, mock-seriously.

“…Are you collecting seeds again?”

“Nah.”

She eyed him suspiciously.

Then she tackled his abdomen, tickling hard with all ten fingers.

It hadn’t been wise, truly.  He overpowered and tickled her easily, his utter lack of mercy keeping her breathless for the following five minutes.

She learned nothing more from him that night—and he made no more secret journeys after that, as far as she could tell.

--

The summer solstice arrived.

Zelda opened her eyes to the sight of Link’s lovestruck gaze, the dimple deep in his left cheek.  He pushed her hair behind her ear.  “Happy Birthday,” he said softly.

His first gift to her arrived immediately, with no need even to leave their bed.

The second waited, a centerpiece on the dining table: a large box tied with a wide, royal blue bow, every bit as obvious as Link’s excitement for her to open it.  He’d adopted barnacle-stance once again, using his legs to walk hers toward the table.

She laughed, shifting off-balance as the odd gait forcibly waddled her.  He stopped them directly in front of the box, though he didn’t let go.

“I take it you’d like me to open this before breakfast.”

“Yes please,” he said, his laugh higher than normal, burying his eyes in the nape of her neck.  “I’ve been keeping it secret soooooooo long.”

She chuckled, her arms and hands covering his, warm, around her waist.  “My poor knight,” she said, a habit from days long gone.

He hummed a breath into her, nuzzling her nape and ending with as much of his face as he could tuck into her hair as possible.

She patted his arms and tilted forward.  He slid his hands to her waist and leaned around her, watching.

The ribbon fell open easily.  She lifted the top off the box and folded back the protective paper to see- “Pants?”

“Take them out!” Link urged.

She lifted them by the waistband.  Her head cocked in confusion as they unfolded.

“Shorts!” she said, amazed at the array of large pockets all over them.  They were otherwise simple, black, as though to replace her riding pants.  Their shorter length would be welcome in summer, and she absolutely could do with pockets.  The pouch at her hip wasn’t enough, though Link, of course, would allow her to put anything she wished in his.

“Look inside,” Link whispered, bouncing a little on his toes.

Zelda gave him an amused look.  She then held the waistband open and peered downward.  As predicted, she saw black fabric.  She also saw her own feet on the floor through the leg holes.

“No, no no no no,” Link said.  “Look in the pockets.”

“Ah,” she said.  Thinking he’d secreted something within one for her, she slipped one strap from its loop, lifted the flap, and rummaged inside.

“Goodness,” she said.  “This pocket is quite deep.”

Link produced a snigger.

She eyed him suspiciously once more as she slid her arm further and further into the pocket… still contacting nothing.   She withdrew, confused.

“I-“ she lifted the garment above her head.  Then she examined the pocket’s outer seam.  She pressed her hands on either side of it.  It appeared to be utterly ordinary – larger than her hand, certainly, but…

She shook her head and inserted her hand once more.  She watched, fascinated, as more and more of her arm disappeared into it, until the pocket’s edge reached her shoulder.   She wrapped her other arm around it to feel where her arm had gone inside the cloth.

The answer, it turned out, was nowhere.  The fabric pressed flat to her torso.

She gasped, a slow smile spreading across her face as she turned to see one of the biggest grins Link had ever given her.

“It’s like your pouch!” she cried.

“YA HA HA!” Link yelled as she tackled him. “Oof-“

“Oh my goodness- oh- Link- Link think of what I could do with this!”

“I did,” he chuckled.

“Are all the pockets this way?”

He nodded; then he looked up and to the left for a moment, a half-squint on.  “Well- yeah they’re all enchanted, but it’s not quiiiite the same.”

“Oh?”

“I had- requests for these pockets.  Special ones.”

“Such as?”

“Well…” He opened a larger pocket lower down.  “Check this out!”

She did.

And she gasped.

She was peering into a space, perhaps the size of the main room of their new house, with a lush, grassy floor, a medium-sized dogwood tree, and a pond.

With lily pads.

She stared.

She stared more.

She goggled at Link, dully noting his arms supporting her, his eyes positively twinkling.

“is this…. for… frogs?” she asked, her tongue extremely dry.

“Well,” he said waggling his head.  “It doesn’t have to be. But I thought-“

She kissed him.

--

Link examined his work as a myriad of frogs hopped, croaked, and plain-old-chilled out around him, quite proud of himself.   The ruby rod was definitely staying put—and unlike one of the old flame blades (damn, he missed those), it wasn’t going to cook every frog that touched it. “I think I got it!” he yelled.

The sound of cloth-on-cloth preceded Zelda’s face appearing in what seemed to be a slit on a dark wall about even with Link’s head.

“Oh!” Zelda said.  “You’ve embedded it!”

“I figured it’d work best if it was actually in the water,” he said, trying but failing to see any steam visibly rising from the little pond’s surface.

“Indeed!”

Link wondered if there’d be clouds—like rain—or if droplets would just condense on that nebulous, sky-blue ceiling above.  Verrrrrry slowly.

“I’m still concerned about the lack of sunlight,” Zelda said.

Link smiled, pulling his eyes from the unsky to make his way toward her.  He stuck his face right up to the opening.  “It’s magic, Zelda.  Don’t worry too much.  It was like this in the sword-trials.”

“It’s unclear whether those were physically real, Link.”

 “True, but there were loads of plants inside the Zonai shrines.”

“Hmm.  There still are,” she said.  “I suppose that suggests whatever the light source is, it’s sufficient for them.”

“Yup.  So don’t worry.”  He pointed up.  “I bet it’s sky blue up there for a reason.”

She huffed a laugh.  “I suppose I agree with you, for my instinct is not to take that bet.”

Link raised his chin, proud of himself for the third time that day.  “Nice!  So… is it testing time?”

“If you’re ready, Link, then certainly.  I shall be gentle, but I suspect the fact the pond has remained intact means this will be entirely uneventful.”

The sound of shuffling cloth accompanied the strange sight of her hands, the wall, a painting, and then the ceiling moving beyond the opening followed by a wild motion of the wood, glimpses of Zelda’s armpit, her hair, her nose, and a single green eye as she pulled the garment on.  He heard her fasten it.

“Link?” she called.

“Nothing happened down here!”

“Excellent.”  She peered down at him.  “Link?  You are officially in my pocket.”

He snorted.  “I’m in your pants.”

“As is typical for you,” she said with a mischievous glint.

--

Being in Zelda’s pants (literally) turned out to be less interesting than Link thought it would.

She’d warped to Hateno rather than hike or paraglide down to Tarrey Town.

“What if the shorts fall off?”

“Do your pants usually fall off when you paraglide?”

“Of course not, but if they do, you are in them, and you shall hit the water, and if it comes pouring in, what will happen to you?”

Link shrugged.  “I’ll swim out.”

“Perhaps, but what if the entry fails to expand?”

“Why would it?!”

“No- we must be scientific about this.  Nothing risky is to be done without proof of concept.” Her spine straightened suddenly as though shocked.  “Goodness.  What if I fall?  Same potential result—possibly worse, for we do not know how taking on water affects the weight of the pants-“

Link started laughing.  “Zelda, they have a tree and a pond and- DIRT and things.  They don’t weigh anything.”

“Yet what if they do, Link?!  Perhaps a fraction of their weight is transferred.  We don’t know.  We cannot test it without removing the material, and frankly I have no wish to ruin that lovely environment in order to haul a tree out.  No, the only way would be to add material and weigh the shorts afterward.”

“Ze-“

“Of course, I would do that with the similar pocket on the left rather than disturb the pond...”

He’d been about to suggest he just… paraglide down with her and hop in the pocket in town.  They could be discrete about it—ask to use the bathroom at the Hudson Construction office or something—but he liked to hear Zelda talk, and she’d clearly started one of her long thinking-out-loud rolls.  So, he’d listened while making mental note of the locations of niiiice, big, heavy boulders he could shove in the bottom left pocket.

And now, here he was, chilling with the frogs, listening to Zelda’s footsteps and chatter with the townsfolk, making yet more mental notes of any jostling (which was… really easy since there’d been none so far), and trying to think of how else he could kick the frog habitat up a level.  Luckily, he could hear Zelda even with the flap closed, so he had some entertainment other than the sticky frog that had decided his back was comfortable.

His head shot up.

Neither of them had thought to test whether he could leave with the flap shut.  That, to him, seemed a much bigger deal than anything else.  What if she was hurt and he couldn’t get out to help her?  What if something attacked her?  Zelda could defend herself, sure, but he couldn’t be stuck in here, helpless, if someone or something meant her harm.  Bokoblins.  Moblins!  One of the remaining gleeoks he hadn’t yet purged from the depths.   He can’t possibly have found them all, and those things could fly like anything, come out of nowhere.  He’d never seen one leave a chasm but there was absolutely no reason he could see why it couldn’t, and chasms—dear Hylia, they probably hadn’t found them all and what if she was walking somewhere and she didn’t see it and she slipped and she was falling and falling and falling and he couldn’t catch her again-

“Link?” Zelda called.

Link’s pulse rushed fully tactile in the left side of his neck, audible especially in that ear.  Sweat had begun to seep into his clothing.

“Yeah!” he yelled.

“Any motion?”

He laughed a little, rubbing the back of his neck.  He’d stopped paying attention—but he hadn’t noticed anything.  “I don’t think so!”

He could practically hear her mind whir on that one.

“Alright!” she said.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes at himself.  He’d done it again.  He really, really, really needed to stop doing that.  Hadn’t that been part of the point of this gift to her?  Yeah, she loved the pockets, but also he’d had to get used to letting her be alone.  He must’ve been driving her crazy.  He’d barely been able to let her garden for five minutes without checking on her.

Better that she missed him than got unbearably sick of him hovering around her all the time.  It’d happened before, all those… very many long years ago.  It could happen again.

He scrubbed his face.

He had to think about something else.

He eyed a particularly quick hot-footed frog.

His nose wrinkled.  He wished he didn’t know what its secretions tasted like.  He wouldn’t enjoy being stuck in here with nothing but those things to eat.  He didn’t expect sticky frogs to be any better, or ordinary tree frogs for that matter.

Not that he planned on eating them.  But if it was him or the frogs-

The frog on his back made a soft ‘ribbit.’

Link craned his neck.  He could see the moist, blue tippy tip of his stowaway’s nose.

…Eh. Okay, the frog was cute.  He could eat other things first.

Grass!  There was grass. And flowers.

Could you eat dogwood trees? 

He’d have to dig himself a latrine.

…

It would be really gross.

Not as bad as Zelda being hurt.  By a lot.

But still… disgusting.

And she’d never let that happen to him unless she was hurt, so it was a moot point.

… Or unless the shorts fell in the lake.

He smacked his forehead.  He should know by now that Zelda was always right.  Because if lake water started pouring in here and he couldn’t get out because the flap was closed?

He was effed with a capital f.

Much better that he was in here than her.  He wouldn’t make it five minutes if their roles were reversed.  He’d be hauling her out of here forcibly.  Once they knew how it worked, sure.

Hestu hadn’t seemed to know much about it, either.  Magic, inventory-expanding dances?  He had those in the bag.  The mechanics of the bag?  Nope.

“No, thank you, Manny.”

Link’s eyes shot to the closed flap.

“It’s a spectacular collection of crickets, to be sure.”

“Turns out Lasli didn’t want them, either.”

Link groaned.

“Eh he.  Yes, I heard you telling Link last time.”

He was still on this?

“She didn’t like the frogs, either.  But you do, right, Princess?”

Link would not tell Manny Lasli loved fireflies.  Because she actually did, and he wouldn’t inflict Manny on anyone for real.

“I know you like them.”

…Link didn’t appreciate that tone in Manny’s voice.  Not that he knew what it was, exactly.

He just didn’t like it.

He didn’t like Zelda’s silence either.

He stood and padded barefoot over the grass to try and peek out the flap.

“W- eh- ll.  I- suppose I- do like frogs-“

“I have a hundred for you, Princess.  Do you want them?”

Link really didn’t like that tone of voice.

“U- ahem.  Do you mean the frogs?”

NOT ONE BIT.

Link shoved at the flap, too high-alert to be happy it didn’t resist him.  He grabbed the edge with both hands and stuck his head out.

He found himself looking at Zelda’s midriff.

“AaaaaAAAAAAHHHH!” Manny screamed, and he wasn’t the only one.

Several things happened in quick succession.

People and cuccos scattered (Link could hear them), something hit the ground hard and rattled, and several doors slammed open against their stops.

“ARE THOSE DAMN SKELETONS BACK?!”

“It’s daytime, dad!”

“Heavens, Princess, what are you wearing?!”

“MY LAUNDRY!”

“Princess!!! There’s an animal in your pocket!!”

Zelda’s arms shot out above Link’s head.  “Oh!  No, it’s—" a number of crickets landed on her midsection.  “Oh, my,” she said, hers the calmest voice in earshot as Link tried to figure out how to turn his head the right way.

“MANNY WHAT THE HELL, MAN?!”

“BLEHHHHGHGHGHHHH BUGS!”  (A door slammed shut).

Someone was shrieking high on the letter ‘E’ as Link, with a great deal of confusion, managed to twist around and see the street.

It didn’t help.

Manny was trying to scoop crickets out of the air and fling them back in the wood-and-mesh cage he’d kept them in, its latch flopping around.  The appearance of Link’s eyeballs knocked him back onto his hindquarters with a strange cry, almost as hard as if Link had punched him physically.  The cage landed lopsided—which was probably what happened a few seconds ago, too—and crickets streamed outward.

Ivee seemed every bit as terrified of Link’s disembodied head as she’d been of the potential pocket-critter and then some.  One of her knees rose and crossed her body as she squealed, dropping her broom.

Her father managed to make a wide-eyed scowl at Link.  “What in Hylia’s green hills?!  Link?!”

Manny panted, gulped, and leaned forward.  “L- Link, man.  It is you.”  He then looked from Link to the pocket below him, and up to Zelda’s face, an idea clearly forming.

“You-“ Link said, waggling a finger at him- “and me- we’re having a talk.  Soon.  Got it?”

For some reason Manny grinned wide.  “Got it,” he said with a wink.

Link was confused, but he’d take it for now.  “Good!” He twisted up to see Zelda.  “Hi,” he said.  A cricket landed on his forehead.

Zelda shook with laughter.  “Hello, Link.  Any jostling?”

“Not a thing!”

“Excellent.  Well.  Shall we continue?” she asked, shooing his cricket away.

“Depends,” Link said.  “Do you actually want those frogs?”

Zelda shook her head.  “It is far too many frogs.  Manny?”

“Y- yes, Princess?”

“You ought to return those hot-footed frogs to the wild where you found them, though keeping a few would be alright.  I have enough in here already.”

“E-enough?” Manny stuttered as Link leaned out to see just how many frogs there were and where the heck he was keeping them.

The sticky frog on Link’s back made its bid for freedom.

It launched through the air with a loud croak and landed on Ivee’s hip.

She shrieked, flapping her shirt wildly in attempt to fling it off.  Link moved reflexively to yank himself out and recover the frog. Instead, Zelda toppled as Link simply appeared, connected to her leg.  They landed in a heap, Zelda on top, with her face in Link’s hair and Link’s legs still dangling in the other-dimensional space.

“I got heavy again, didn’t I?” Link said to the dirt.

Zelda nodded in his hair.

“I’ll get you a new frog,” Link offered.

“No need,” she said, having turned her head to rest it on Link, watching Ivee quiver in fear as the blue terror slowly scaled her torso.  “It’s not going anywhere.”

Link rotated his face to look Manny in the eye.  “Seriously.  You’re still trying this?  What do you do, wait by the village entrance and offer critters to everyone who passes you?”

Manny leaned forward conspiratorially.  “Only the hot babes,” he whispered.

Link groaned and put his face back into the dirt.

It was better.

--

“Here you are, Link,” Zelda said, passing him yet another apple.

Not that he wouldn’t take it, but wow, she wanted him to eat today, didn’t she?

“Thanks, Zel!” He grabbed it and made extremely short work of it.  He tried to shove the core in his own pouch again, wrinkling his nose when it just hit bottom and got his hand sticky.  “Aw.  I keep forgetting.”

Her hand reappeared in the opening as she chuckled.  “It must feel strange to suddenly have an ordinary pouch.”

“You bet.  Don’t know how I managed before.”

“Well, fret not.  You shall have access to your many thousands of odds and ends once you emerge.”

Good thing, too.  He’d’ve had some kind of breakdown if bringing his pouch inside THIS pouch had broken his pouch forever.

He had over a dozen omelets in there, to say nothing of a now exceedingly rare undecayed eightfold blade.

It struck him real suddenly why she was feeding him so much.  He couldn’t just reach in and pull out a snack like he usually could.

He found himself very warm and fuzzy.  He turned his eyes on Zelda, still peering curiously at him.  “Thanks, Zelda.  You’re… really thoughtful.  You know that?”

She blinked at him slowly.  “You’re… welcome, Link.”

--

Link now understood his disembodied appearance in Zelda’s pocket was both an asset and a curse.

Sticking his head out among adults, unexpected?  Chaos.

Sticking his head out in the Hateno schoolyard?  Also chaos.  But the screams were fun-kid-play screams, not screams of abject, world-view-upending terror.

The schoolbell rang.

“Awwww,” Azu said.  “We just got started!”

They had, in fact, just started chucking insects, sticks, and chunks of bark into the pocket and watching, fascinated, as they fell sideways upon entering the magical space.

Zelda gave an indulgent chuckle.  “I’m sure the frogs will be appreciative of your efforts, and It’s not as though we won’t be back.  Go to class!”

The children grumbled a little as they traipsed inside.  So did Link’s stomach.

“You know, they fed the frogs, but did I get anything?  Nope.”

“Hmm.  I imagine that’s because they’d eaten their lunches already.”

“Aww.  I wouldn’t take the kids’ lunch.”

Zelda hummed a laugh, her forehead wrinkling slightly. “Are you hungry already?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Truly?  It’s not as though we didn’t have our own lunch… and quite a few snacks for you.”

Link shrugged.  “Hungry anyway.”  She was still… looking at him, but not in the ‘oh look it’s Link, he’s so attractive and I’d like to be back at home in bed right now’ way or the ‘look at Link, he’s so silly, he makes me laugh, he might do something else funny if I keep watching’ way.

He could usually de-code if he studied her hard enough—but right now he had to look partway up her nostrils to do it.  “You… have your thoughtful-face on,” he said.

“I’m always thinking,” she said with a smile.

A suspicious smile.  “Yeaaaaaah, but sometimes you’re thinking harder.”

She cocked her head, still watching him.

He cocked his, too, with half a grimace on.

Maybe it was the ‘he might do something funny’ face.

It couldn’t hurt to try.

Link spun around, spotting a stick Karin had tossed inside.  He snatched it up, looked Zelda right in the eye, and took a nice, hearty chomp.

Her head reared.

“Mmm,” Link said.  “Sassafras!”

It tasted like skunky-root-beer-meets-a-whole-box-worth-of-matchheads, but the look on Zelda’s face was worth it.

She only laughed a little, though.

He’d have to up his game.

Either that, or he’d just have to be attractive later.

He chuckled to himself.  Why not both?

In the meantime, he had a bunch of items to arrange.  Now that Zelda had this pocket, and now that it had frogs in it, and the kids had not only seen it but put stuff in it, they were absolutely going to want to visit the frogs and see all their stuff in use in the frog habitat.

Link sighed, looking at the feeble collection of dead tree matter near the opening.

As if on cue, Zelda reached in, a long, curled section of papery bark in her hand.  “Would… you like this, Link?”

“Sure—thanks!” he said.  He grabbed it and snatched up the rest, intent on turning the kids’ offerings into a tiny frog village in the corner.

--

“Link,” Zelda said, her voice carefully nonchalant.  “Here’s some oak wood.”

Link arrived at the flap and took it from her.  “Oh great, yeah, thanks!”  He gave her a huge, excited grin and an eyebrow flash.  Then he raised it to his wide-open mouth and stuck it right in.

Zelda swallowed, wide-eyed.

He disappeared to the left again with some small shuffling sounds.

She then heard a crack, and a happy sound from Link.

Zelda began to think frantically.

--

“H- here you are, Link,” Zelda said.

Link turned from his task to see her hand dangling a scrap of leather into the opening.

He bounded over to her, reaching for the offering.  Zelda seemed a bit less happy than he’d have liked, her lips pressed together and held there by her teeth.  He looked her over.  Then he looked the leather over.  Not terrible leather.  Not great.  Nothing special.  Big enough to be a blanket for a frog.  He snorted.

He’d stuck a few different kinds of wood in his mouth since the stick made her laugh at least a little, but when she got serious he did, too, going about his construction efforts.  A bunch more bark, several sticks, chunks of wood, and a sheet of slate later, here she was handing him leather.

What was he supposed to do with it?

She was watching him so closely!

…Maybe she got serious because he got boring?  His mouth pulled in deep on the left.  He studied Zelda’s downturned face.  Maybe he hadn’t gone big enough.  “Look.  Do you want to see me eat this?  Because I can totally eat the whole thing.”  He could, too.  He’d eaten way worse.

Her eyes flicked elsewhere, then back to him with a little shimmy of her head.

It was cute.

He smiled.

“No, Link,” she said.

He blew a puff of air out.  He’d hoped so.  “Just checking.”

She looked so expectant.

What was he missing?

“…Thanks, Zel!  Be back in a minute.”  He jogged past the tree and out of Zelda’s direct line of vision.

What to do with the leather?  Zelda didn’t just do things for no reason.  Maybe he should just ask her.  But she wasn’t saying anything, so she must think he already knew, so it must be something for the habitat and he must be being dense, and-

Oh.

OH.

He was… really thick sometimes.  He smiled to himself.

Of course.  He’d even thought it was about big enough to cover a whole frog!  It could be a little frog blanket.  Or a mat.  Or frog armor for a teeny tiny little frog army.

Link’s entire form lit up.

No, no.  Zelda was studying the frogs, not playing with them.  The kids would play with them.

…It would be so cute.

He sighed.  He would resist.  Little mats?  For the cute little frog houses he’d already made with the sticks and stuff?  Sure.  He could make frog-tents, too.  It was always light in the habitat.  They probably needed someplace dark they could go hide in sometimes.  Yes!

Link got to work, realizing pretty quickly he didn’t have all the tools he needed.  He wandered back to the flap.

“Hey, Zelda?”

“Yes, Link!”

“I need some thread and some long, thin lengths of leather.  And more rectangles of leather.  Maybe…” he thought for a moment.  “Thirty-six pieces.”

She stared at him.  “Thirty-six?”

“Yep.  Just to be safe.”

--

I am extremely concerned that Hylian mental status is negatively affected by enclosure within my cargo shorts’ lower-right pocket, Zelda wrote in her research journal.

As Link expressed his hunger despite his frankly gargantuan intake of food, I recalled that items retrieved from Link’s pouch emerge exactly as they went in.  Food does not spoil.  Vegetation does not wither.  Animals do not perish.  And indeed, nothing has occurred to harm the frogs we’ve placed in the habitat for study.  Yet one would think if time stood still, they would not hop (etc.).  Clearly, whatever magic occurs is complex.

I would be merely curious rather than concerned had Link not proceeded to eat sassafras wood (notably unhealthy).  Indeed, for each piece of wood I passed to him after that, he thanked me profusely.  He then appeared to develop an insatiable craving for soft leather!  Is he unable to appease his hunger if he enters in a hungry state?  And was Link willing to eat these items because he was truly that hungry, or has the space had an effect on his thinking?

I oughtn’t allow him to go back in.  It took a good deal of convincing to get him to come out.  He insisted he ‘wasn’t finished.’  I had to lower a rope in and ask him to climb it to test the effect of our gravity vs. that of the gravity within the pocket as he climbed.  I was quite relieved when he agreed.

--

“Morning, Zel!” Link chimed from the kitchen—Zelda had made her way partially down the steps to the alluring aroma of honeyed flapjacks.

“Good morning, Link,” she said, her smile a little more tired than it should have been considering her large amount of sleep.  She breathed deep.  “That smells delic…ious.”

Zelda stared at the low table along the far wall.  “Link?”

“Yep?”

“What are those?”

Link followed her gaze.  “Oh!  Yeah, the leather was a really good idea.  I’ll bring those ones in with me today.”

She blinked, shaking her head.  “You… what?”

“Into the pocket today,” Link said, flipping one of the pancakes.  A few dark spots revealed wildberries embedded in it.  “I’ll bring them in with me.”

“Link- I… was thinking perhaps you shouldn’t go in there today.”

“Huh?  Why not?”

“Well, for one thing we’ve other concerns.  We are overdue for our visit to Rito Village.  I know Tulin has been anxious to discuss his Zonai stone, and we shouldn’t put that off for any of our modern-day sages.  There ought to be- some manner of succession, or-“

“Zel,” Link said, a quizzical look on his face as he slid the honey and blackberry flatcake onto a plate.  “This… is nothing new, and none of them are…” he shrugged, waving his pan and his spatula- “old, or… sick, or anything.  It can totally wait.”

“It’s not as though the pockets can’t wait.”

“Zel, you literally just started testing them out yesterday.”  He squinted at her.  “You were worried about just keeping frogs in there without understanding how the fake environment would affect them.  Right?”  He waited.

“Well… yes.”

“And they just plain old don’t like our little L-shaped pond thing.  Right?”

“…They do not seem to particularly enjoy it, no.”

“Because they leave.”

“Yes.”

“So you can’t just take the little guys out and put them in our pond.”

“Not if I expect to see them again.”

“And you like frogs.”

“They are fascinating,” she said.  “Not that other creatures aren’t – they certainly are – but, at least in our time, their effects on speed, strength, and stamina were poorly understood, though of course we can make some elixirs from them, and now with these sticky frogs having sprung from the caverns opened in the upheaval, there is so much more to learn.  It’s not even just the frogs, it’s-“

She stopped at the huge, dimpled smile on his face.

“What is it?”

“You,” he said.  He replaced the pan on the wood stove and dolloped some batter in it—then he circled the table and wrapped her up in his arms.  “I love how curious you are,” he said.

“Even after all that time,” he said, far more quietly.

She’d snuggled into him, but his tone had her pulling back, examining his face; his smile had vanished.  She traced his lips with an unthinking fingertip.  “Link…”

He tried and failed to smile under her touch.

She stroked the subtle hollow of his cheek.  It disturbed her a little that he even had a hollow of his cheek, with all the food he took in.  He never used to.  He’d had rounded cheeks, always.

“Sorry,” he said.  “It hits me sometimes… how long you waited.  For me.  Because I-“  he swallowed.  “Because I missed.”

She shook her head and crushed him to her, pressed his face to her shoulder.  “No, Link.  No.  Truly.  It wasn’t like that.  It was as though…. a long dream.”

He nodded against her.  She’d told him before—many times—yet it continued to haunt him, evidenced by moments like this.  Sometimes she thought he didn’t believe her.

Sometimes she suspected hethought about it far more than he let on—wondered if the occasions on which he acted strangely were fueled, somehow, by that fall of hers into blackness and its consequences.

Not for Hyrule.  He’d saved that.

But she’d spent eons and eons so very far not only from him, but from her own consciousness—and self-recrimination kept surfacing within him for it.

Zelda thought of his months-long korok obsession.  Of his need to have hundreds upon hundreds of ‘seeds,’ and that need utterly overriding his usual (over)protectiveness of her, even to the point of him going when she specifically requested he stay.

There had been no pocket to affect his thinking, then.  Perhaps an oddity of the flow of time had nothing to do with his behavior.

She worried at her lip and thought of the scraps of leather lined up on the table partway behind her.  “…Link?” she asked.

“Yeah, Zel?”

His voice sounded thick.

She stroked his hair and took a deep breath.  “What is the leather for?”

His eyelashes fluttered against her skin.  He lifted his head to look at her.  “Frog tents.”

“…Frog tents?”

“And mats and blankets, and I was thinking of making cute little sets of leather frog armor, but I figured that was just me being a little bored and not actually something that would spruce up the habitat, though the kids would sure enjoy it.  Maybe we should get them to make some.”

Zelda breathed a sigh of relief.  “You-“ she shut her mouth.  Should she say something?

“Zelda?”

She smiled, her thoughts turning.  “Link- you… you worried me yesterday.  Considerably.”

He looked nonplussed.  “I did?  How?”

She gave him a look, then patted his shoulders—he released her.  She walked over to her hung shorts.  She reached into one of the storage pockets and removed a birch branch.

She returned to Link and held it out to him expectantly.

He just stared at her.  He flicked his eyes to the branch once.  Then he stared some more.  “Uh.”

“What… would you do with this if I gave it to you?” she asked.

Link scratched the back of his head.  “I mean… usually I’d whack a bokoblin with it- ONLY if it was red, mind you.  But now with the pond, I could give it to the frogs like all the other stuff.”

She blinked at him. “You could… what?”

“Yeah, I can arrange it around the pond- well… it’s really in the corner, I didn’t want to put it right next to the water.   It looks pretty neat already but it’s not even close to finished yet.  It’ll be like a little frog village.  Little log seats and tents, and an itty bitty frog campfire for them to sit at, and little mats for them to sleep on, and…” he trailed off at the look on her face.  “What?”

“You haven’t been eating these?”

He stared at her.

Then he burst out laughing.  “What?!”

She spread her arms wide.  “You have been- taking bites of wood, and bark, and even rocks—though granted this is not the first time I’ve seen you eat rock-“

“Salt’s a rock.”

“That is beside the point, Link, the darling, obtuse love of my life.”  She gripped his shirt with two fists and put some of her weight on them.  It made him lean over with a bit of a droll smile on his face.  “You were displaying- extraordinarily odd behavior once more.  Please, please, explain your actions if not to sate your seemingly inexhaustible hunger while inside the pocket?”

“You thought I was eating wood because I was too hungry?”

“Of course!”

He huffed a laugh.  “Why wouldn’t I just ask you for actual food?”

“I wondered the same thing!”

“You could’ve asked me why.”

She blinked, drawn up short.

His thumbs drew gentle shapes on her biceps.  His eyes wandered all over her features.  One eyelid twitched just slightly more shut.  “Why didn’t you ask?” His voice had softened so much.

Her mouth opened and shut, her fingertips on his face again.  She made a study of his features with them, moving from place to place.

Link’s nostrils flared a second before she noticed the burning smell.

“Sh-!” he leapt almost comically over the table (comically except that he was Link, so the leap itself was graceful and perfectly executed to place him directly in front of the stove).  “Ahhh, this happens so much…” He flipped the offending flapjack with a flick of his wrist.  The underside was, indeed, rather burnt, but she knew he’d finish cooking it anyway.

He didn’t turn around.

His shoulder blades shifted as he jiggled the pan.

Zelda circled the table, arriving at his side, his nearer hand still on the pan’s handle.  “Link?”

His face turned toward her, and while he showed no outward sign of tears, she knew that face on him.  They weren’t far off.

She caressed his bicep, his hairline where his head and neck met.  “What is it?”

He half-laughed, shutting his eyes and leaning into the hand at his neck, just for a moment.  “You tell me.  You… didn’t answer my question.”

Her cheek came to a slow rest at his shoulder, her eyes on his, at a loss to explain.  She didn’t know where to start.

Her silence seemed to hurt him, almost bodily.  He winced.  He moved the pan onto a thick potholder.  He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut.  He took a few deep breaths before returning his eyes to hers.

“Well, you wanted to know what I was doing, so… I was just trying to make you laugh.  At first, I mean.”  His smile was very, very weak.  “The joke didn’t land, huh?”

Her eyes had widened a little.  “I.. thought-“

“It’s okay,” he said.  A small smirk touched his face.  “I’m funnier when I’m not trying.”

A small laugh puffed out her nose.

“Oh ho!  Yeah, see?  I thought so.”

“I am sorry, Link.  I thought it was hunger because you were simply insatiable all morning.”

He flashed his eyebrows twice.

She giggled. “That is not what I meant.”

He smiled anyway.

“You devoured breakfast, lunch, and every other piece of food I passed to you while you were in there!”

He shook a little in a laugh, though his face remained far less than jovial.  “How is this unusual?”

“Do you realize how much food it was?”

“OH yeah.”

“And you were still hungry?”

“I’m always hungry.  I can literally always eat.”

“You say that, but your stomach must be of limited size.”

Link shrugged.

“I’d begun to wonder if I the space you were in was affecting you.”

“Well, again… I don’t understand why you didn’t just ask me.”

The shadow she’d been seeing in him became all the more obvious.

“Link… you always say you’re alright.”

He shrugged.  “I always am.”

“No, you are not,” she blurted, surprising even herself.  “Link… I see it in you.”  She pressed her hands to his face, cradling him.  “You’ve not been- you’ve never been the same since I came back,” she said, almost whispering.  “I see it there, in your eyes- and more than that.  It’s a change in your entire body, your full self.  Yet you always insist you’re alright.  I do not ask because-“ she just realized it herself- “you would not tell me truthfully.”

She could see him floundering, but her mouth would not stop.  “You have been acting strangely.  For months, you were collecting korok- seeds- with such fervor, willing to leave me for long stretches of time, which had up to that point been quite unusual for you—and you refused to tell me what that was about, too. And then-“ she snapped her fingers- “nothing.  No more.”  She softened at the odd twitching which appeared in his left cheek—she’d no wish to come across as harsh—she simply could not contain it any longer.  “Your night excursions worried me at first, too, and then especially when you mentioned the forest.”

“But,” he cut in, “you know what it was about now, right?”

“Yes, obviously now I know,” she said.

He shook his head, then cocked it strangely at her.  More quizzical than she’d ever seen him be—there was another word for it.  She couldn’t quite place it, perhaps because she’d never seen it on his face.

“So… why are you… still worried?” he asked.

She ducked, seeking his eyes from below.  “How can you not know?”

He splayed his hands wide, face up, shaking his head.  “I- don’t!”

“Link.  You spent months feverishly collecting pellets of korok dung!”

He blinked.  A lot.

Then he looked somewhere straight above Zelda’s head.

“Oh,” she sighed, her face in her hands.  “I- I am sorry, Link, it was obvious you didn’t know, and that in and of itself wasn’t my concern.  Why- why collect them in the first place?  Even if they were seeds in the literal sense?”

Link groaned.  Then he grabbed her biceps and rested his forehead on hers with a flabbergasted smile.  “Wow.  Wow.  Okay, so, yeah, I didn’t know they were turds.  Holy Hylia, I could kill Hestu.”

“Who is Hestu?”

Link shook his head.  “Tell you later.  No, you know what?  I’ll introduce you later.  We can shake the maraca tree together.”

Zelda opened her mouth, but Link shushed her with his fingerpad on her lips.  “I get it.  Why you thought I was nuts.  Because that’s what this is about, right?  You thought I was losing it, so you didn’t want to ask me, because of course if I was really insane I wouldn’t know anyway, so the answer doesn’t matter.  Does that about sum it up?”

Her eyes welled with tears.

“Hey- hey- no, no no no, please.  Don’t cry.” He kissed both her eyelids with a loving smile.  “Yeah, I’d’ve thought you were losing it if you were collecting feces without it being some kind of study.”

She burst into a tearful giggle.  “But not if it were a study.”

“No, pff!  Of course not.  You’ve studied nastier things.  But that’s kind of my point.  Like- I really thought I had given the game totally away when I told you I didn’t have enough seeds.”

“I… don’t understand.”

“Did I never tell you this??  Hestu- who you will meet- is the guy who does the magic to expand the pockets.  And you have to pay him in korok seeds to do it.”

“What?!”

“Yeah!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“That’s absurd!”

“He’s a trickster.  Now I know!”

“What would he possibly want them for?”

“His maracas.”

“His what?!”

“His maracas!  He sticks them inside and shakes them around and does this ridiculous dance and BOOM—expanded pockets!  He can even make spaces within the spaces which is how I can keep all my swords separate, and my bows, and… and…”

He must have seen the look on her face.

“So…” she said, “if anyone is mad, it is this Hestu.”

Link snorted.  “I sure hope so.  Because if not, then it’s still me who’s lost his hold on reality.”

Zelda smiled at him.  “I would love you anyway.”

He took his time folding her into his arms.  “I know.”

“I… am still surprised you were willing to leave me for such long stretches of time.  I was becoming lonely.  At least, now, I know the entire ordeal was with the aim of creating a truly spectacular pair of shorts.”

He shook with silent laughter against her.  “Yeah.  Though… I was also trying to leave you alone.”

Her arms pressed him extra-tightly for a beat of her pulse.  “Why?”

Two puffs of air exited him quick, fluttering the hair near her temple.  “Because it’s been so hard to.”

The shadow in his eyes had risen to the surface, bared for her.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said, soft, her lips near his, her eyes treating each of his to touch after touch of her sincerity.

Link cupped her face and kissed her, his lips a bare brush, a gift of pure emotion, nothing taken.  “It was.  Shhh- I know.  I know what you’d say, but it was my fault.  I dropped.  And it wasn’t because I couldn’t stand.  It was because-“ a disgusted laugh left him- “it hurt.”

“Link,” she said, aghast.  “The gloom killed your arm while still upon your body!  It took even your shoulder.  You were in agony-“

“But I could have stayed standing.”  The loathing in his unfocused stare found her shrinking, though she knew it directed toward himself.  “It would’ve saved me about half a second.  When you fell.  And I’d have caught you.  As it was, I felt the air from your fingers as I missed.”

She couldn’t stop shaking her head, touching his face, his hair.  “Please.  Please, my love, do not do this to yourself.  Do you not see…?“ She straightened.  “You do.  You do see.  For if you didn’t, you would never be willing to leave me alone for a single instant of the rest of my life, ever.  Yet you already have.  You’ve intentionally forced yourself to do so.  And why?”

His eyes shut under her hands’ ministrations.  “Because I don’t want to drive you nuts.”

She nodded, her forehead against his so he could feel it despite his shuttered eyelids.  “Which means you recognize constant, incessant vigilance is unreasonable.  And if it is unreasonable under normal circumstances, it is certainly unreasonable in the case of an agonizing injury—one single moment in relation to it, and that is all.”  She kissed his cheek.  “It is not. Your.  Fault.”

A tear met the bow of her lip.

“Oh, Link,” she said, kissing it away.

“It feels like it is,” he said on nearly no air, his diaphragm having already crushed the rest from him.

She took him against her shoulder as he shook.  Saltwater jumped in fits and starts between the peach fuzz at the nape of her neck.  She stroked his hair.  “I know,” she said.  “I know it does.  We will work on this together, Link.  Alright?  When you feel this way, please speak to me.”

He nodded against her, the movement slowed by a nuzzle.

“And also… I do not at all mind you being my barnacle.”

A laugh burst from his mouth, cooling the freshly laid tracks of moisture on her.

“Please,” she chuckled.  “Do so as much as you wish.  In fact, do so even more, for I enjoy the unique sensation of my strides riding entirely upon yours.”

“You got it,” he said, his hand running warm over her back, as though he were the one comforting her.

She returned the gesture.

When Link recovered enough for his stomach to rumble, she insisted he sit.  She served him the one flapjack he’d successfully cooked.  She made the rest, and she did quite a good job of it, too (though in fairness, Link had already prepared the batter—by far the trickier part of the task).

They ate on the same side of the table, always touching. While Link had been right—she did want to study the pond-pocket carefully, and sooner rather than later—the day's priorities had changed. She decided to forego her investigation in favor of bed, where Link enthusiastically joined her.

--

Late at night, Link burst to wakefulness, shooting upright with a cry.

“Whhhhfauuha?” Zelda said, bleary.

“They’re all in on it!” Link said in horror.  “Every last one of them.  Every single korok.”  The look he turned on Zelda might’ve been lucid.

Or he might’ve been sitting up in his sleep.

She just laid the flat of her forearm on his chest and pushed him down, snuggling back up to sleep.  He didn’t resist.

--

“Hi, Hestu,” Link said, his smile completely relaxed.

“Link!  It’s good to see you.  Did you bring any more seeds for me?”

Link’s smile widened.  “Actually, today I brought the Princess to see you.”

“The PRINCESS?! Shakala!!!” Hestu waved his maracas in a ponderous mockery of semaphore.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Hestu,” Zelda said.  “Now please, in no uncertain terms, explain precisely why you manipulated Link into delivering thousands upon thousands of korok droppings to you in exchange for your inventory expansion services.”

The maracas went utterly still.

Zelda’s smile remained pleasant.

“Mmmm?” rumbled the Deku Tree’s voice.  “What has my grandson been doing?”

Hestu remained balanced on a single, awkward, stubby leg, maracas-out, his only movement a slight shivering of the leaves in his branches.  Then something hit the ground with a deep thump.

“I- I’ll be right back!” Hestu said, his wood-moustache shivering as he scampered with all the grace of a land-manatee down the path toward Mido Swamp.

Link stepped forward, feet shoulder-width apart, eyes groundward.  He nodded with a sniff.

“What is it?” Zelda asked.

Link tilted his head.  “Well.  You know that saying about shitting bricks?”

Zelda peered curiously past him.  “Oh.  My.”

“Yeah.”

“Well.”  She clasped her hands.  “Perhaps we should collect it.”

Link took an extremely long moment to turn and look at her.

The corner of her mouth twitched.

Link burst into relieved laughter.

“I couldn’t resist,” Zelda said.

[windermeresimblr]

Dance Suite: A Maxis-Match Rococo Clothing Set For C-EF

This was inspired by my frustration with the Store's "Morning in the Garden dress," which is a decent approximation of a robe a la Francaise, if somewhat costume-y. The channels were poorly assigned, the mesh was nowhere near as wide as it ought to have been at the hips, there were no engageantes, but worst of all, there was no maternity morph for the young adults and adults! So I set out and made one. And then I adjusted the channels to make things much more fashionable. Because I can't be the only one to look at extant examples with mix-and-match stomachers, robes, and petticoats and think "YES PLEASE!"

Option one (seen in picture four) has a channel for the robe, the petticoat and bows, the stomacher, and the tucker (1), choker, and engageantes (2).

Option two has a channel for the robe, the bows, the stomacher and bows, and the tucker, choker, and engageantes.

Option three has a channel for the robe and stomacher, the bows, the petticoat, and the tucker, choker, and engageantes.

Option four has a channel for the robe and petticoat, the bows, the stomacher, and the tucker, choker, and engageantes.

This dress is available for Everyday, Formal, Career, Makeover, and Maternity for Teens (Courante), Young Adults and Adults (Allemande), and Elders (Sarabande).

And then I made a vaguely Rococo dress for the children, because I was sick of putting them in the Tudor dress, and they couldn't all wear Danjaley's dress all the time! The style could fit anywhere from, say, 1680 to 1780, though the polonaise-style ruffles might be more suitable for the 1770s-80s. It's darling, in my opinion.

Option one (not shown) has the original yellow gold rick-rack trim.

Option two has a new bronze rick-rack trim.

Option three has a new silver rick-rack trim.

All of the options have the same channels: bodice and skirt, sleeves, stomacher, and trimming.

This dress is available for Everyday, Formal, Career, and Makeover for Children (Gavotte).

There are some really harsh shoulder seams that I can't smooth out. Additionally, the child dress has a strange gap between the sleeve cap and the sleeve that I can't figure out; I may revise this when I'm more skilled at frankenmeshing.

All photos are unedited; what you see is what you get! You should not need the Store dress or Generations for these dresses to work.

Download them here. I hope you have a happy holiday season, and may this new year be safe, happy, and full of simming!

Credits

EAXIS for the original "Morning in the Garden" dress, as well as the "Dress With Bolero" and "Princess Dress Costume."

KentConverts for the teen and elder female conversions of said "Morning in the Garden" dress, as I took those meshes and bonedeltas and ran with them; you can have my dresses and Kent's at the same time, as they're separate items.

Edorenel, whose Colonial Williamsburg palette I used to make reasonably-period but still visually distinct presets in CAS.

@danjaley, for the poses, inspiration photo, and the wonderful tutorial on bonedeltas.

@simlicious, for the patterns and troubleshooting my initial forays into meshing!

(1) The "tucker" is the trim along the inside neckline. I decided to put it on the same channel as the engageantes and choker because I like the look.

(2) The "engageantes" are the lacy sleeve trim seen here. One day I'll make a set that actually is meshed...

(3) The self-stripe you see on the elder model is a pattern in progress of my own, borrowed from @simbury's silk stripes texture for TS2. I'm a sucker for self-stripes.

[puppyvenom]

crutchie - akb vs matthew duckett !!!!

alternatively titled - cast disabled people jesus christ

listen i am having so many thoughts and feelings about crutchie and at the risk of annoying the fuck out of my partner i am putting them on here instead!

prefacing this by saying:

i do not speak for all cripples

matthew’s duckett was my first real introduction to crutch and yes i am probably biased because of it (because matthew was an absolute sweetie when i met him)

i do not actually hate AKB as much as i dislike his crutchie

★

i think the main problem i have with his crutchie (and i understand that it is not entirely his fault at all!!!!) is that it’s so sanitised in so many ways. it is so of its time and not really in a good way, it came about in a period where representation wasn’t a big focus and i very much understand that, but i also hate it.

it’s so easy for disabled characters to fall into this weird ,sanitised, almost infantilising position, where their struggles are shown (abuse from the delanceys that was directly because of his disability, the fact he’s more likely to be put in the refuge because he’s seen as ‘weak’), but they’re bound by this kind of happy-go-lucky persona where they don’t show any real anger or upset. it’s fuelled by the abled need to see disabled characters as some sort of inspiration porn. “he’s crippled but look how happy he is despite that!!!!!! if he can do it i can too!!” he has this air of innocence and can-do-no-wrong that kinda falls a little flat compared to all his friends of the same age, and whilst this wouldn’t be a problem in itself, it fits a repeating pattern of the innocent, docile physically disabled person that is shown so much.

i loved matthew’s crutchie so much because he was so much more than that. he was happy, he was kind and an big laugh, but he didn’t shy away from being truly angry or scared (in the finale when he is brought back and cuffs snyder) and he was still a bit of a dick, he felt a lot more like he truly belonged. one of my favourite examples is at the start of the show the first time we see katherine, he helps one of the boys (i can’t remember which one) steal something from darcy and keeps it on him through the rest of the show. he’s as playful and annoying as the rest of them, shooting paper balls at them with his slingshot (especially during the finale, i love him so much for that). he has an attitude. he has the energy of a boy who was raised on the streets and knows what the fuck is what.

and thats what i think changes him the most for me. it’s all the same script (?) but it’s all so different when you think about how smart crutch actually is. i think the biggest change is my idea of him specifically when he’s being so nice to weasel at the beginning, when all the boys are being annoying and dicks, crutchie is so sweet. i don’t believe he’s doing that because he’s just such a nice guy who can look past weisel and the delancey’s being assholes to them, i think he realised quickly how to play the game. he’s gonna get sympathy, he knows that, and he knows if he acts all innocent and is overly kind, that they’ll somewhat pity him and he can use that to his advantage.

i hate being pitied by most people, i hate being looked at differently, like i’m almost helpless. but i also know how to use it to help myself, i know when i can play the poor little cripple card to my advantage. and i fully believe crutch does the same.

edited to add because i forgot to add this entire section in sorry!!

when i say sanitised i also mean literally. as in they made him cleaner. specifically in the finale again when he’s brought back from the refuge, broadway crutch looks way too clean. he’s a little bashed up but he’s not dirty. he doesn’t look like he’s been battered and then subjected to awful conditions. it takes away the impact of his time at the refuge. when he got back in the uk production they actively were disgusted by how much he smelled, because he’d just got out of a place where he couldn’t look after himself for a multitude of reasons. he suffered in there, mentally and physically, and in more ways than one. he was not given nice clean clothes and a pat on the back, he was taken out and put right back into the mess without much time to check himself over, without any time to process or heal.

i just think it has a much bigger impact when you can see, from his actual appearance and the other guys’ reactions, how much he actually struggled in there. they were glad to have him back of course, but it really drove home the point of how badly it affected him.

and once again in that scene, you could see the fear on his face and the anger when he faced snyder and when he made a move at him. he was fucking scared of the man that had subjected him to all of that. even when he was being a little goofy and put on the hat to handcuff him, there was still that fear, and there was evidence to why.

(end of edit)

but like i said, i don’t think it is entirely akb’s fault or his intention, he almost definitely wasn’t aware of the way it came off and how it perpetuates stereotypes. but it’s just another reason why giving disabled roles to disabled people is so important. plus we know how to use mobility aids properly

★

shoutout to my beloved partner who proof reads my shit and also is the reason i am into newsies . thank u babie @fizzloves-blog <3

[hanavesinauttija]

Inspired by @txttletale 's post, I decided to try my hand at making a custom V1 magic card.

Card Transcription

V1, Marksmachine 2UBR Legendary Artifact Creature - Construct Coin Toss - Whenever V1 attacks, defending player creates four tapped Treasure tokens. Untap them at end of combat. Marksman - You may choose Treasures as targets as though they were creatures or players. Ricoshot - Whenever you cast a spell that targets a single Treasure, destroy all Treasures, then change the target of that spell. Copy that spell for each Treasure destroyed this way. You may choose new targets for the copies. 3/3

End Transcription

Art Link

Here are some design notes:

This is a top-down design meant to translate the Marksman weapon from Ultrakill. It allows you to toss up to four coins, which ricochet bullets shot at them.

This is meant as a combat-trick focused commander, allowing you to clear the way for V1 by copying removal spells. That said, there is an alternate approach in making your own Treasure tokens and copying more powerful spells at sorcery speed.

Yes, you can use this to take extra turns.

The flavor words match with in-game terms and are meant to help in parsing which parts of the card do what.

Coin Toss: V1 can toss up to four coins at a time in-game and they deactivate upon hitting the ground, which is translated as untapping them. The opponent can use the Treasures as they wish after that.

Marksman: I'm somewhat unhappy with this flavor word, but I couldn't find an in-game term that fit this better. The wording and effect of this ability is novel, and I had to extrapolate the wording from [[Know Evil]] (fantastic card, that)

Ricoshot: This is the in-game term for ricocheted bullets. I had to refer to a whole bunch of different cards to make this ability parse well, but I'm happy with it.

Overall this card is very wordy, but has one less word than [[Tom Bombadil]] so I'm in the clear :)

[versegm]

There are few things in this world that can genuinely surprise Morgan. It comes with living for so long, she supposes; when you’ve seen so many things, it’s hard not to feel a deja vue about everything. Even her own death, while unfortunate, had not been surprising. Morgan had always known that passing away peacefully was not an option for her.

Still, it seems that she has not grown fully immune to bafflement. “Come again?”

Sir Kyrielight swallows hard. She’s beet-red, wringing her hands nervously. Still, she does not break eye contact. “I said I love you.”

The sentence does not make any more sense the second time around. Morgan rotates it in her brain, tears it apart. I. This one is easy; it refers to Mash, the speaker. Love. An action and an emotion all at once- the thing Mash is presumably doing, or feeling. You. Morgan is the only one in the room. It can only refer to her.

I love you. Three words that do not fit together. One of them has to be wrong, surely. Misheard or misunderstood. If Mash loves someone, it certainly cannot be Morgan- cannot be this wretched witch willing to burn the world down for her goals. If Morgan is loved, it certainly cannot be by Mash- this knight of virtue and courage who stands by the human order. And if Mash and Morgan have anything between the two of them, it certainly cannot be love. Hate, perhaps. Comfort, if one is generous. But love? Love. Love. L, o, v, e. Barely even a word. Just four letters stacked together. A simple sound with no meaning. 

“As a… friend?” While still odd, this would make more sense than what Morgan initially interpreted. Yes, this must be what Sir Kyrielight had meant; that she held fondness for Morgan, and wanted to make it known.

Except, no. The knight shakes her head. “No. Romantically.”

And now Morgan is back to square one. “... Sir Kyrielight, are you certain you are not mistaken? Emotions can be hard to tell apart. You could not be blamed for mixing them up.”

She meant for her words to be comforting, but Sir Kyrielight’s gaze turns into a glare. While Morgan is not unaccustomed to the knight’s anger, she doesn’t recall ever seeing it directed towards her.

“ Queen of Winter, ” Morgan always takes care to use proper titles when addressing others. It’s only polite. Yet, somehow, having Mash refer to her by her title feels… uncomfortable. “You can reject me. You can ignore me. You can pretend I never said anything. But I will not allow you to deny my feelings.”

She walks up to Morgan. Sir Kyrielight is a full head shorter than her; but right now, back straight, fury in her eyes, that does not make her any less imposing. “I love you. Deal with it however you want, but that, that’s a fact.”

*****

“You told her what?! ”

Slowly, Morgan sets down her teacup. “It seemed like a logical conclusion at the time.”

“You and your logic.” Habetrot rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “Morgan, listen to me. Love is an emotion. By definition, it is not rational. If Mash loves you, it’s not for something as simple as the sum of your parts. It’s because you’re you.”

Nonsense. Emotions may not be rational, but they’re still somewhat grounded in reality. What could there possibly be in Morgan that could inspire love? “I know not what to do with her love.”

“You don’t have to do anything with it.”Habetrot sighs. “It’s easy. If you love her back, tell her so, and the two of you can become merry brides together. If you don’t, tell her so, and she will nurse her broken heart on her own. You only really got two options here.”

Fair enough. “How do I know if I love her, then?”

Slowly, very slowly, Habetrot blinks.

“... Love,” she articulates carefully, as if talking to a child, “is an emotion. It’s something close to joy. When a bride gets close to her chosen groom, she gets so happy there are stars in her eyes. It’s a fire inside the soul, fluttering like birds inside one’s belly.”

… That seems a bit dramatic. Can emotions truly be so intense? Morgan has her doubts.

“So. Do you love her?”

Morgan thinks. She thinks hard. “... She makes me very happy.” She doesn’t know if this is love- but if nothing else, that part, she’s sure of.

Habetrot pinches the bridge of her nose. “Okay, this isn’t working. Let’s try something else.”

*****

“- and she sent me to you.”

Sir Barghest pauses, midway through stirring her stew. “To… explain love to you?”

Morgan nods. “Indeed. You are the most knowledgeable on that subject.”

“Your faith in me flatters me, your majesty.” The knight turns back to her stew. “Love is… a want. A hunger, of sorts. When you love someone, you want to be with them. The want can be more specific- wanting to kiss them, or make love to them- but generally speaking you just… want them.”

She reaches out to grab some spices. She does not look at Morgan. “It can be a terrible thing. Sometimes you want someone so badly you want to devour them. Sometimes love reduces you to something lower than an animal.”

She sprinkles some ginger in the broth. “But sometimes… love is what prompts you to become a better person. You want to be worthy of the person you love. You want to be good enough for them. And that part is wonderful, I believe.”

Hm. An interesting perspective. “Is it worth it? To love someone when you know you can very well be their doom?”

“Yes.” Sir Barghest does not hesitate even a second. “It is worth it. It has to be worth it. What would be, otherwise?”

If Sir Gawain of Many Lovers is saying it- then there must be some wisdom in that statement, even if Morgan doubts it.

Sir Barghest pauses once more, for a couple seconds. Then she turns to look at Morgan. “Your majesty,” she asks carefully, “what do you want?”

What does she want? She wants to spend more time with Sir Kyrielight, that much is undeniable. If she thinks more about it- she would be amenable to physical affection, even. Sir Kyrielight had hugged her a couple times, it had left her skin tingly all over for hours. Morgan can’t imagine what a kiss would do to her.

But… for all the things Morgan can and will do, she does not believe she is capable of change. She’d tried, she really did- tried to be a savior, tried to be the kind one, tried to be the helpful one. She couldn’t. Her role is that of a witch, and nothing, no one- not herself, not Totrot, not (Ma-) (Fairy knight Ga-) (her frien-) Uther could change that. Morgan’s desires weigh little in the matter. Sir Kyrielight can not make Morgan better than she is. Remains the question of whether Morgan is capable of becoming worse.

*****

“So, Mash is in love with you, and you’re in love with her, but you’re worried about dragging her down?”

Morgan quirks up an eyebrow. “I did not say that. I am unsure as to whether I love her or not.”

Her spouse makes a strange face. Whatever emotion this is meant to convey, she cannot figure it out. “... Anyways. I don’t really see why you worry so much. Mash wouldn’t have confessed to you if she didn’t think she could handle you.”

“Sir Kyrielight is a virtuous person. She would offer a second chance to anyone claiming to want one. It is possible she has not yet realized that I am not a person who can be saved.”

Fujimaru frowns. “You think her naive.”

“I did not say that.”

“Kind of the vibe you’re giving off here though.”

“ I did not say that. ” Ah, now is a feeling Morgan recognizes- she’s irritated. “I, more than anyone else,know the things Sir Kyrielight has endured. I am well aware that she’s witnessed humane horrors the likes of which can never be put into words. I am merely worried that she might not realize these awful things can apply to me as well.”

Her spouse doesn’t reply immediately. For a few seconds, they only stare, before folding their hands under their chin. “What is love to you?”

Morgan has no idea. Her love for Britain overpowered everything else. She does not know what it means to love a person- if that’s something she has ever experienced in the first place. “I am told it’s a feeling, or a desire.”

Fujimaru makes a noncommittal noise. “That is true. However, I would like to offer you another point of view: love is an action.”

That is a widely different definition indeed. “Elaborate.”

“ Love is a verb, first and foremost. It’s the act of looking at someone. I don’t mean with your eyes. I mean truly looking at someone. Seeing them for everything they are- the good and the bad, the flaws and the virtues, the beautiful bits and the ugly ones. It’s the act of acknowledging someone’s whole self, including the parts that are inconvenient to you, and refusing to flinch.”

“You believe love to be the act of unconditional acceptance?”

“Essentially.” Huh. How very in character of them. “When Mash says she loves you, I don’t think she believes you to be pristine clean. I think she believes you worthy of staining her hands.”

“This seems mildly worrying.”

“And who are you to dictate her choices? You’re not her queen.” That statement hurts more than Morgan thought it would, though she would be incapable to spell out why it does. “She made her choice. She chose you. You can’t deny her that. All you can do is make your own choice: do you want to take her hand?”

“There is little risk in doing so.” If Morgan is everything that is evil in this world, then Sir Kyrielight is easily all that is good in this world. If such a thing as a savior can truly exist, then this is what Sir Kyrielight is.

“You think so? She makes mistakes too, you know. She’s quite soft-hearted. She hates fighting. That makes some decisions very difficult for her. Can you accept that? And if you do: can you accept that you will see her getting hurt over this, and you will not be able to help her?”

“Obviously.” The words tumble out of Morgan’s mouth by themselves. “None of these are flaws. Why wouldn’t I be willing to smear her blood on my hands?”

Her spouse smiles. “And you say you’re unsure if you love her back.”

… Ah.

“Apologies.” Morgan gets up suddenly, straightening her dress. “It seems like I need to have a conversation with Sir Kyrielight, and it cannot wait.”

The last thing she hears as she crosses the doorstep is “sweep her off her feet!”

*****

Morgan finds Sir Kyrielight inside her room. Rather predictably, in fact- and it’s a wonder that it took Morgan so long to realize that most people do not have her schedule memorized.

“Sir Kyrielight.” She says, standing in the doorway. “Mash. We need to talk.”

She startles when Morgan uses her first name. How cute. Still, Morgan cannot let herself be distracted now. She walks through the room to sit next to Mash. “I have done a lot of thinking.”

“Ah.” Sir Ky- Mash casts her gaze down. “Come to reject me, then?”

Morgan allows herself a huff of irritation. “Do not put words inside my mouth. When I am done, you may take back your confession, you may chase me out of your room, but I will not allow you to misinterpret my words.”

She extends a hand to set it on top of Mash’s. The knight jolts, but does not take her hand away. Hopefully, this is a good sign.

“I am somewhat… disconnected, from my emotions.” She brings Mash’s hand to her chest. “My heart is that of a witch. It curses panhuman history. It is cold as the winters of my long-gone Britain.”

Her free hand reaches out to cup Mash’s face. “But it’s yours, shall you accept it.”

There is a single second of silence following her statement, Mash staring at her with wide eyes- and then the knight suddenly collides with her chest, wrapping both arms around her. “Of course I’ll take it. I’ll take everything you are willing to give me.”

Warmth spreads under Morgan’s skin. Softly, she returns the embrace. “It is most unwise of you… but most welcome, nonetheless.”

“I don’t care. I’ve been wise for too long. This is me being selfish. I want you, all of you. I don’t care if it’s rotten in here. I want you down to the marrow.”

With that phrasing, it almost sounds like cannibalism. Is this what Sir Barghest meant? When she said love could turn one into an animal? (Did her lovers feel as flattered as Morgan is? To know that there is someone out there who would rather cram her inside their ribcage than letting her go?)

“There is much I am willing to give.” With no Britain left to protect, no duty to uphold- Morgan now belongs to the stranger that is herself. She can afford to give things away. “But for now… perhaps your hand in mine?”

Mash tilts her head up, staring straight at Morgan. She’s crying, Morgan realizes. She’s smiling too, though. “Yes… yes, that would be nice.”

[queenofthedisneyverse]

Dragonoid's - Encanto Au

Ok I know there already has been a dragon au, but I was listening to the HTTYD soundtrack and when inspiration strikes, I have to take it-

So, in the world, there are two types of dragons. Normal ones you see flying around with "violent" tendencies. And the second kinds are called dragonoid's. Dragonoid's are a sub type of dragons. With every different type of dragon there's a dragonoid to follow.

As a dragon-oid you are either looked at as a Zoo animal, bad omen, or something to kill for money. Dragon scales and just skin in general is very valuable. Just one scale or slither of skin could have you set for life. 

Eggs are even more valuable because the shell is like a crystal. For example:

Plus, dragon eggs have children in them. If you have one, you can have a constant supply of money. (I'll let you figure that entails on your own)

Dragonoid characteristics. 

So, the obvious, scales! 

Scales start from the fingers and slightly pass the cubital fossa in a gradient like fashion. Same for the legs. The scales Start from the tip of the toes and slightly pass the knee. Claws are retractable but are still sharp and noticeable. 

Their skin is also bioluminescent so they have tons of beautiful spots and patterns that light up in the dark. 

Sclera can be a variety of different colors and so can the iris. So when a dragon needs to hide out in the open they need to wear a cloak, as well as gloves. 

If you have horns it’s best to shave them down or find a group to stay with. When you live in a group others can bring in much needed necessities for you. Also, horns can be a variety of sizes and can stretch far. So it’s usually mandatory to shave them down so you can lay down properly.

Alma has smaller horns that are about three inches tall so she doesn’t need to worry about shaving them down. 

Tails are always gonna be long, about five feet in length  for an average adult. But thankfully they are somewhat thin (only 4-five inches thick) and can easily wrap around a dragon's leg as a way to hide it. 

Some have wings, some don't. So, others have to rely on climbing or running/walking. Some can breathe fire, spit out lightning, acid, and some can’t at all. Those that can’t usually rely on their claws and strength. 

And yes, every single dragon has a fondness for shiny things and are semi-hoarders of anything shiny and glittery. 

Typical places for dragon groups to live are far away areas in forests or crystal caves. Crystal caves are the most common places to live and other dragons will fight other dragon groups for it.  (Dragonoid's are smart resourceful people with astounding intelligence, but I didn’t say they weren’t feral, especially when they need safety.)

-

Alma lived in a pleasant little dragonoid village. She was happy, which is an oddity when you are considered poaching material. It was hidden within the mountains and WAS a safe haven for dragonoid's AND regular dragons.

The story starts out the same, and you know how it ends.

-

The encanto is one big underground crystal cave mixed with a jungle..sort of? Kind of like this for reference (Yes, it's from HTTYD, BITE ME!)

There’s even a water part for more aquatic dragons. Speaking of which, the underground sanctuary has smaller caves inside fit for families to live in. These smaller caves have large holes in them that work like bedrooms. 

However, as an egg and even a baby, you sleep inside your parents' room until you're at least five years old.

I need worldbuilding ideas for this au soooo

@miracles-and-butterflies

@glowing-celesticpetals

@gamerbearmira

@evostar

@thefourchimes

(You are definitely NOT obligated to give my ideas. I'm just tagging y'all in case you might be interested in helping)

[eliyips]

HI HELLO

First of all

*eating your X design for breakfast*

Amazing, beautiful, perfectly dork shaped, love it. (and I did not go though your blog and read every single post you made about him and his design and why you draw him the way you draw, you are imagining things surely/sarcasm)

Secondly AMMA STEAL IT. And Use It. And maybe add some of mine, but DEMN you did sooo good, that's like canon in my head now!

And third thing... You rebuild a part of the dungeon. For a drawing?? And Then painted over it??????? That's insane!!! You are insane??? I mean huge respect, That kind of dedication.... woah

And last thing: *om nom noms all of your art, why so tasty*

HELLO HI :D

Ahhh thank you for the very kind message!!! always makes me so happy to hear that people like my Xisuma design <3 absolutely feel free to steal him, I'm flattered to have people taking inspiration from my designs!

YES, I did rebuild a tiny piece of Decked Out for my drawing! It may sound a little off the walls, but i promise you, it was 100% necessary. /sarcasm

Seriously though, even if it was a bit extra, it was actually pretty easy to build the set, all considered - only took maybe an hour? I wasn't stressed about getting every detail right, so it was honestly pretty relaxing! And I think it was totally worth it for the result I got :D Here's a couple other angles of the set, to give you an idea of what all I did (ft. me, cosplaying as Xisuma)

Honestly, the most difficult part about this was figuring out the lighting! I ended up breaking a hole in the wall I had built around it, to allow the moonlight to illuminate the set, and get that nice blue glow. I had originally planned to use soul lanterns for the blue light, but soul lanterns / campfires glow orange instead of blue in all the shaders I found and liked :')

I took these screenshots with Sidurs Vibrant Shaders. I tried Kappa as well, for the colored lighting, but was pretty dissatisfied with it, besides the colored lights. I usually use BSL Shaders when playing, but I felt like the more saturated look of Sidurs was more appropriate here! :)

Here's something I didn't mention about the screenshots in the original post: something which was super helpful while drawing was having these screenshots of Tango and Xisuma's skins, taken in the same spot on the set where I planned to draw them. It gave me a really good reference point for the base colors, though of course, i had to adjust somewhat to better fit my designs for them :) Makes me curious what I could do if made versions of these skins that better matched my designs. Could be super useful for color reference in future drawings!

Anyways, thanks again for your very kind message!!! <3 hope that my rambling about Minecraft screenshots was of interest :D

[flyiingsly]

Remember me

Square : Music

Pairing : Hunter x gn!jedi!reader

Warnings : mention of alcohol, mention of Order 66 and memories from the Clone Wars, a bit of angst but mostly fluff i guess, half confession, these two idiots are in love but not ready to say it out loud

Wordcount : 5,1k

Summary : When Hunter unexpectedly heard you sing for the first time, he instantly fell in love with your voice, and even more with you.

A/N : Here we are, my fourth submission for the @clonexreaderbingo ! This fic is one of my favorites among those that I wrote for the CFB honestly, because I really love the songs that have inspired it, and because, I don't know, that prompt suited Hunter very well in my opinion, and I'm really happy with how it turned out :D

Disclaimer : I'm still struggling to understand English grammar properly, English is not my native language and even if I have proofread my writtings several times, there is probably still typos in it. I'm very self conscious about it and I apologize for it in advance, but I'm doing my best to do better and I'm actively working at improving my writting skills !

So if you spot a typo, feel free to point it to me so I can correct it, it will be much appreciated :)

Before you start to read, go check the two songs that are featured in this fic :

(This one is one of my favorites feel good songs EVER ! THAT VIBE IS AWESOME OMG !!!)

(And this one is a cover of "Remember Me" from Coco by the wonderful Annapantsu, this song is haunting and beautiful, and I particularly love her version, she is sooooo talented !! Go check her channel, really, it's all gold !)

***

Today was supplying day for the Marauder crew. You and the Batch has just returned at Ord Mantell after your last mission for Cid. She paid you the credits she owed you, so it was time for some groceries and equipment shopping.

As usual, you split into two teams : the one going in town for groceries, and the one staying at the ship to tidy and clean the interior space.

It was a tradition inherited from the time of the Republic : every Clone battalion had to go for a cleansing day every now and then to keep their barracks organized and fit to live in. To be honest, it wasn’t really part of the Clone Force 99 habits to maintain their room on Kamino. In fact, it was mostly your idea to establish a cleansing day. Of course, Echo had already tried to force the idea on them long before you became part of the team, but they weren’t enthusiastic about it, so he just ended giving up.

But since Omega and you have joined them, they have finally realized that it was much needed, to keep the place they were living in in a somewhat decent state. And this time, it was to the two of you to fulfill that mission.

***

“Tech, are you sure we haven’t forgot anything ?” Echo asks his brother, who was scrolling on his datapad to check if all the items from the groceries list are crossed.

“Affirmative”, he answers, “we have everything we need to eat and to keep the Marauder flying for at least ten more rotations !”

“Good, let’s go back home then.”

As they approached the ship, Hunter started to hear some distant melody. More than just music playing, he heard some familiar voices that made his ears twitch.

“Did you hear that too ?” he asked his brothers.

“Yes, I did, pretty clearly” Tech answered, “Me too” Wrecker added.

“Seems like (y/n) and Omega are having a little fun while we’re working” Echo said jokingly with a smile.

The voices and the rhythm became more distinct as they entered.

“ … I'll make you happy, baby, just wait and see

For every kiss you give me, I'll give you three …”

You didn’t hear the boys coming, as the music was a bit loud, and you were totally carried away in the heat of the moment. They noticed that everything that was usually settled on the floor had been lifted on the furniture, and that the said floor was still wet on some spots.

“ … Oh, since the day I saw you

I have been waiting for you

You know I will adore you 'til eternity …”

When they finally caught a glimpse of you, they found themselves in front of a pretty unique and unexpected spectacle.

“ … So won't you, please (be my, be my baby)

Be my little baby? (my one and only baby) …”

Here you were, the handle of the mop in one hand, using it as a microphone, facing Omega who had a sponge squished in hers for the same purpose, both dancing in rhythm and singing passionately in unison. The floor was in the middle of being mopped, but everything else was as clean as it could be.

“ … Say you'll be my darlin' (be my, be my baby)

Be my baby now (my one and only baby)

Whoa-oh-oh-oh …”

They did their best not to interrupt you and stay discreet and quiet, but to be fair, it didn’t take them too much effort, for you were so absorbed that nothing could have disturbed you right now.

When the song ended, the two of you were happier as ever and giggling.

“Heyyyy, great job, you’ve nailed it girl !” you exclaimed at Omega, high fiving her.

The young girl’s eyes were sparkling with joy, she loved those shared moments with you.

But suddenly, you felt that something was off, and you stopped laughing, freezing at the realization that you weren’t alone anymore. When Omega noticed it, she turned her head toward the entrance of the room and smiled even more widely at the sight of her brothers.

“Hey !! Guys !! Have you heard us ? What do you think ? Isn’t (y/n) a great singer ?”

You weren’t even able to face them as you were horribly embarrassed. Your cheeks were burning red, and your only reflex was to facepalm yourself to try to hide it.

“That was awesome !!” a very enthusiastic Wrecker shouted out.

“That was great, indeed !”

“Yeah” Hunter spoke with a gentle smile. You could feel his gaze on you, making you blush even more, “that was impressive, both of you”.

“Thanks !!!” Omega was so proud, it was adorable.

“Don’t be so shy (y/n), look, they found it great !!”

You smiled at her words, moving your hand slightly from your eyes to look at her.

“Is that true ?” you teased, a smug smile on your lips.

“Of course !”

“Yes, your voices matched that song pretty greatly, well done !”

Wrecker and Tech immediately answered with encouraging smiles.

Then your eyes met Hunters. You could swear he was blushing too. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut by a grinning Echo.

“Yeah, why are you so shy ? Of course you’re a great singer, have you forgotten all the applause you used to get back in the day ?”

“Seriously, Echo ?” you grumbled, looking deadpan at him.

“Seriously, you should be proud of that voice, even if it’s even better when you’re playing while singing.”

“What are you talking bout ?” Wrecker asked, confused.

“Don’t you dare !” you warned him, pointing a finger at his direction.

“Ho, she never told you ?” his mischievous grin turned into a soft smile, “(y/n) used to carry her guitar wherever she went, especially on our days off. Sometimes we had the chance to get a private concert in the barracks, sometimes she would carry it with her to the 79”. Every time she started to play, everyone stopped talking to listen to her, and most of the time, we all ended singing along.”

You let out a deep sigh.

“Really ?” The giant’s eyes were now looking at you with fascination.

“You never told us that you knew how to play guitar !” Hunter said with surprise.

“That’s because it was very long ago, I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to play again … Plus, I didn’t get any more music instrument at hand anymore, I didn’t get the chance to bring it with me when …”

You stopped, frowning slightly, your eyes got lost in the vague for a few seconds before you could get your composure again. When you raised your head, you noticed that Hunter seemed moved by your words.

“Anyway,” you let out, trying your best to hide your troubles, “maybe someday I’ll get the chance to show you, but for now, karaoke will do, and we have some mopping to finish !”

You winked at the young girl, who immediately chuckled in response.

“Go on, you’ll take the cockpit, I take the back space, last one to finish will paid mantel mix to the other !”

Omega giggled and grabbed one of the mops “Good luck then !” she burst before heading for the said cockpit.

As the boy’s attention went on the groceries organizing, Echo didn’t move and stood still besides you. You looked at each other for a moment, before he lowered his head with a sad look.

“I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to embarrass you, let alone make you sad by bringing back old memories … I just wanted to tease you as we always do, you know, I thought it could be funny … I’m sorry, it was a stupid move …”

You got closer to him, and put your hand on his shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just that … I wasn’t expecting that, I was taken aback, that’s all, but that’s okay, really !”

“I’m sorry” he repeated, sighing heavily, trying to avoid your eyes, “But to be honest, I miss those times … I miss those special little moments with everyone, when you were singing us some song in the barracks, you know ? Every time we were listening to you, all of our worries seemed to suddenly vanish, it was incredible, and I miss hat, I miss all of them …”

As he spoke, tears were starting to form in his eyes. It broke your heart to see him like that. You and him have gone through so much during the war. You were particularly close to each other, everyone in the Batch knew it from the many stories Echo had told them about you. You were here when they rescued him from the Citadel, and you were here when he decided to stay with them, you had been by his side for so long. You knew each other so well, you knew he didn’t means to hurt you by saying all if this.

“I know”, you whispered back, “But it’s okay, I’m not mad at you, I know you can be a little tease sometimes, but don’t worry, really.” You did your best to cheer him up, he smiled back, but the tears were still here.

“You know … I miss them too …” you finally confess, “And I miss those moments too, I think about them every day to be honest …”

Tears were rolling down his cheeks now. Echo had always done his best to stay strong in front of the others, and he was pretty good at hiding his feelings. But with you, it was different. Of course, he trusted the rest of the batch, but he trusted you on another level. You had so much in common, you had shared and lived through so much things together, you were so close that you were the only person he was able to share absolutely everything with.

The only answer you could give him was to wrap your arms around his neck and pulling him close in a reassuring embrace. You stayed like that for a moment, sharing each other pain until it soothes, comforting each other as you’ve always did.

Even if you were apart from the others, in the corner of the room where no one could have caught a glimpse of what you were saying, Hunter was still able to understand what was happening.

He knew you were both missing your late brothers in arms, and it often broke his heart to see you so devastated. But this time, a crazy little idea crossed his mind, and he decided to take charge of bringing back some of your lost happiness.

***

After the next mission, it was supposed to be Hunter and Tech turn to do the cleaning on the Marauder while the rest of the crew was going on a supplying trip. Hunter wasn’t usually very prone to cleaning and tidying. He was the kind of man who didn’t really bothered to live surrounded by dust and dirt, but he was doing his best to show willingness on this duty anyway, thanks to you. Even if it was still making him grumpy, he couldn’t deny that living in a clean space was more comfortable, especially since Omega was here. Since the two of you were here, he seemed to acknowledge and mind a lot of things he wasn’t caring about before.

But today he had something else on his mind. As soon as you came back to the ship from shopping, he jumped from his sit and headed toward the door, claiming to have a personal business to settle. You didn’t even get the chance to ask him about the level of cleanliness of the ship that he was already gone, leaving the squad in shared confusion. So you asked Tech instead, trying to understand what was going on with Hunter at the same time. The only explanation you got was that he seemed very impatient to go at the local market too, and that he was impressively motivated and fast to do his chores, which was very convenient for his partner, since he wasn’t very inclined to fulfill them neither.

So you just rolled with it. After all, even if it was intriguing, everyone had the right to some alone time once in a while.

When he came back, you weren’t sure what to think about him. You could swear that he was more joyful than when he had left the ship previously. In fact, everyone had noticed it, and Wrecker didn’t miss the occasion to tease him about it. You were able to catch a weird and suspect eye contact between him and Echo, telling you that they were probably up to something. But you just decided to let it go, trying your best not to wonder about what it could have been. You had the feeling that you’ll discover what it was all about soon enough.

As the day passed by, every task that needed to be done on board were completed. The Marauder was cleaner as ever, all the provisions racks were full, and you had enough ammunitions to take down an entire droid’s battalion. Now all that was left to do was to rest and take some good time until you were assigned to your next mission.

You were sitting on your bunk, putting your blaster back together after cleaning it piece by piece, the ship was peaceful as everyone was busy doing their own things, when Echo and Hunter came back from outside of the ship.

“If I may point out” Echo spoke, “Cid didn’t reach for us yet, which mean that we, at least, have tonight to take some time to relax and do whatever we want to.”

“Does that mean that you had something in mind?” Tech asked, not even raising his head from his datapad.

“To be honest, it had been some times since we hadn’t shared a drink, and I think that it could be a good idea to go out at Cid’s bar and have a chill evening, don’t you think ?”

“I knew it !” Tech finally looked at him, smiling “That’s indeed a very good idea !”

“I’m in !” Wrecker beamed. Of course he was.

“Me too !” You answered enthusiastically.

“Yes ! Wrecker, will you play dejarik with me ?” Omega asked her brother excitedly, who immediately started to complain jokingly about how she was always winning and that he had no chance to beat her anyway.

“Perfect then !” Echo concluded.

Hunter didn’t say anything, but you knew he was always in for a drink or more. You saw him smile with satisfaction at your answers, but most of all, you caught another meaningful look between him and Echo. Something had to happen tonight for sure.

***

The bar was a bit crowded as usual. You were looking at Omega playing dejarik with some Ithorian from afar. Wrecker had tried it for a couple games, but ended giving up after losing every times as he expected. It made you smile to see her so happy like that. And it was good to relax a bit before the next mission, it was well deserved for everyone. Wrecker and Tech were now passionately debating about some weapons efficiency while Echo was looking at them amusingly. You had started to feel a bit dizzy from the alcohol, and now a very pleasurable feeling of lightness and peacefulness was taking over you.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice Hunter when he came to sit next to you at first. He looked at you for a moment, admiring you intensely before engaging the conversation.

“She’s really talented, I’ve never seen anyone won as much games in a row …”

“Yeah, she is. She’s really gifted” you answered, smiling proudly. “It reassures me to see that she can still be happy despite what she’s gone through”.

“I know you’re worried about her, I am too … I’m still figuring out how to take care of a child to be honest, and sometimes I just feel a bit lost, but I guess that I’m doing my best … We’re not prepared for that as soldiers, it’s not part of the training …”

The tone of his voice was sadder, and when you detach your eyes from Omega to look at him, you could read doubt on his face.

“I think you’re doing great, really. The four of you, you are wonderful brothers to her. I know it can be scary and unsettling sometimes, having to protect and care for another being through this world … It’s a heavy burden for sure … But trust me, you are doing great, and I mean it.”

“Thank you” he answered softly, a wide smile appearing on his face.

What you had just told him was really touching and reassuring him. He knew you had to take care of the younglings sometimes, back at the Jedi temple, and that you had been on a lot of battlefields with young padawans, unfortunately forced to witness more of their suffering that you could have possibly imagined … You never got the chance to have your own padawan to train before it all ended, but you knew very well what it meant to care for a child so young and vulnerable, even if they were supposed to be trained for fighting.

“To be honest, it wouldn’t be the same without you. You’re helping us a lot, with everything ... And … you mean a lot to Omega, she’s really attached to you, Echo is really attached to you, we all are really attached to you … I’m not sure if I have told you this before but … I’m glad you joined us … You really are part of the squad now … Really part of our family … And, yeah … It wouldn’t be the same without you …” he slowly added, in a more shy and hesitant tone.

It was hard for him to let all of that out. He was stumbling over his words, he wasn’t used to express his feelings, and you had a very strong presentiment that he wanted to add more, that he had something heavier on his mind to confess to you, but he seemed unable to. 

Your cheeks started to get warm and blushing, but you couldn’t break the eyes contact. It was way too intense and too mesmerizing, you could have drowned in his eyes at that moment.

You opened your mouth to answer something, but you couldn’t find your words. You desperately wanted to tell him how being part of that family was one of the best things that had ever happened to you, and that finding them had given your life a whole new start and a reason to keep fighting after losing everything that you had. But you couldn’t, you were so moved that you couldn’t even answer.

“I have something for you” he suddenly let out, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What ? For me ? Why ?” you answer with surprise, still shacked by his words.

“Because I found something that I think you’ll like, and I wanted to give you a surprise … It’s inside the ship, would you mind following me ?” He had already stood up from his seat, inviting you to follow him with a tilt of his head.

“Of course, yes” you stood up too “I’m sorry, I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“Yeah, that’s the point of a surprise !” He chuckled at your confusion.

His smile was heartwarming, and you were so focused on it when you left the bar that you didn’t notice Echo watching you from the corner of his eye, a satisfied grin on his face.

***

When you enter the Marauder, Hunter made you sit on his bunk before heading toward the entrance again. He was nervous, it was the first time that you were alone together aboard the ship, and neither of you were use to its strange quietness.

“Close your eyes, I’ll come back, it won’t be long, don’t open them before I tell you so.”

“Yes sir !” you exclaimed, curiosity taking over you.

You heard his footsteps going down the metallic ramp. You were even more confused, where the hell was he able to hide something on the outside of the ship ?

When he came back on board again, your heart started to pound with impatience, beating faster with each of his footsteps. When he stopped in front of you, he stayed silent for a few seconds that seemed like eternity.

“You can open your eyes now …”

You immediately gasp at the sight of what was in front of you : carefully held between Hunter’s hands was a beautiful vintage guitar, old but still in good condition.

“Oh Maker !” you let out, “How did you manage to find that ?”

“Here, on Ord Mantell, at the local market. Remember that weird looking antique store right in front of the Mantell Mix stand ? They sell all kind of interesting stuff there, including old music instruments. It’s not much, but I thought you’ll be happy to be able to play again … “

“It’s absolutely perfect … Thank you so much Hunter … I … I can’t express how much it means to me ” your voice was now trembling with excitement and your eyes were sparkling with happiness,  “Can I … Can I try it ?”

“Of course, it’s all yours !”

You carefully took the guitar and put it on your lap while Hunter sat next to you on the bunk, examining it from every angle.

“That’s incredible, it’s nearly the same as the one I had back then …”

“Well, that’s because Echo helped me to choose it. He told me that yours was a particular design that Senator Amidala brought you back from one of her diplomatic missions. Guess I got lucky on this one …”

“I knew it !” you burst, “I knew that there was something going on, those eyes contacts were obviously hiding something ! But I must admit, I would have never suspected that … You two really are the bests !”

He was the happiest man right now, knowing that his gift was making you happy, on top of the fact that he was finally able to spend some time with you.

You give him a fond smile and before starting to pull the strings one after the other to tune them. As you were playing some random notes, Hunter’s attention turned to your hands, looking eagerly at your fingers dancing along the neck. Then the notes became chords, and you repeated these chords again, and again, like if you were trying to start something bigger. Like a hesitant bird flapping its wings again and again until it can finally remember how to fly, you wanted your hands to remember the right movements.

He couldn’t get his eyes off of your fingers. He was so focused, so mesmerized by the recovering of their dexterity that he didn’t notice the long breath you took before your lips parted.

“Remember me …”

The sound of your voice made his heart skip a beat. You had no idea how many times he had wished to hear it again …

“ … For I have to say goodbye, remember me …”

His head raised from your fingers to your face, his eyes sparkling with awe, admiring your features in silence.

“ … Don’t let it make you make you cry …”

Goosebumps run all over his skin, sending shivers across his entire body.

“ … For even if I'm far away, I hold you in my heart,

“I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart …”

As you were singing, you felt tears slowly brimming to your eyes and a lump invading your throat. Your voice started to tremble, and it took you a lot of energy to prevent it from breaking.

“ … Remember me,

Though I have to travel far …”

You closed your eyes, your mind aching from the sudden burst of old and painful memories coming from the depth of your brain. Your hands knew the movements so well that even without your eyes looking at the strings, the music went on flawlessly.

“ … Remember me,

Each time you hear a sad guitar …”

You used to sing that song to ease the minds of your fellow clone soldiers when the horrors of war were becoming too heavy to carry. It was a way to commemorate those who had fallen on the battlefield, a way to pay them tribute and to show that, even thought they were gone, you weren’t forgetting about them and their sacrifice.

You had learned it at the time you were fighting along the 501st, and you had played it a lot because it was often requested to you. It meant so much to you back in the day, and it was even more now, after everything that happened at the end of the war.

“ … Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be,

Until you're in my arms again …”

Tears were now rolling down your cheeks, but you weren’t paying any attention to them, for you were too focused on keeping your voice straight, only willing to honor your memories by finishing the song properly. Your emotion was contagious, and soon, Hunter’s eyes were watery as well.

“… Remember me …”

You sighed heavily as you played the last notes, then let your head fell on top of the guitar, wrapping your arms tightly around the instrument, like if you were hugging every one of those you were missing. You stayed like that for a moment, in complete silence, lost in your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel sad with that gift … It seemed that music was something you were very fond of before, and I was just thinking that maybe, it could be comforting for you to have a chance play again …”

Hunter’s voice was full of concern. You were probably looking like a mess right now you thought, but you still find the courage to raise your head and look at him, giving him a weak but sincere smile.

“No, I’m fine, don’t worry … It’s just that … It’s hard to face those memories again sometimes, even the good ones, you know …. But I’m glad to still have them, this is all I have left of it, after all …”

You sighed again, looking at the guitar and brushing its surface with the tips of you fingers like if it was the most precious thing in the galaxy.

“Thank you so much, Hunter, that’s the best thing that you could have offered to me, really …”

“I have to admit …” he started to answer, hesitant, before going on, “it was a bit of a very selfish move … The truth is … I was craving to hear your voice again, and this …” he pointed at the guitar with a nod, “it was the perfect opportunity … I couldn’t help myself but, at least, try … I have just no words to describe what I’ve felt the other day when I heard you sing, it was just … Breathtaking honestly … ”

The way he was looking at you while speaking was so intense that it made your cheeks start to blush. It has been a long time since someone had looked at you that way, and it was totally taking you aback. You chuckled at his revelations, it was adorable, and rather flattering.

“Well, that’s a very smart move honestly !” you chuckled, “Thank you again, it’s been so long since I’ve sing for someone who enjoyed it … I think I needed that …”

The more he was looking at you, the more beautiful you were to him, and the more he was craving to touch your face and to kiss your lips. But at the same time, he wanted to comfort you and to make you feel safe, for seeing you cry and struggle with memories was heartbreaking to him.

Gathering his courage, he slowly raised his arm to wrap it around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him until your two bodies were pressed against each other, before moving his hand to your head and to gently stroke your hair.

You closed your eyes, settling your head on his shoulder, allowing your body to relax against his. His gestures were so soft and comforting, that soon, your mind felt at ease again, completely focusing on that touch you had wished to feel on your skin for so long. It was perfect, and you let yourself being submerged by that pleasant feeling.

As he was resting his head upon yours, Hunter realized that it still wasn’t the right moment to confess about his feelings for you like he had planned too. But it wasn’t bothering him, for that moment shared with you was a very special and meaningful one, and he had the feeling that it was another step into solidifying his already strong bond with you. One step at the time, he thought, maybe the next time will be the right, but for now, he wanted to enjoy the precious embrace.

“So …”, you let out after a moment, a sly smile appearing on your lips, “would you like to hear another one ?”

“Yes, please,” he breathed out, “with pleasure …”

And that’s how you both spent the rest of your night sat on his bunk, singing and playing various songs to him, giving him the best improvised private concert of his life.

You were still at it when the rest of the batch came back from the bar, and they all instantly gathered around the bunk to listen to you. You could swear that you caught a tear rolling over Echo’s cheek. Even if he was trying his best to keep his composure, you knew that it was giving him as much as emotions as you when you met the proud and nostalgic glance he was giving you.

Omega and Wrecker’s eyes were sparkling with fascination as they carefully listened to you, and Tech was stuck in awe too, eyes riveted to the confident movements of your fingers.

That night turned out to be a blessing that you fondly enjoyed, and for once in a long time, you felt completely and perfectly at your place, surrounded by people that you were now considering as your family, and hopping that one day, you’ll finally be courageous enough to tell their lovely sergeant how badly head over heels you were for him.

[phyrestartr]

PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader | Teaser!

#NSFW in full, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is a performer, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), teaser not edited lmao

Note: This is just going to be a one-shot since it's already pretty much completed, just need to finish off the tail end and then go back and edit. Wanted a break from writing the other stories for a bit, so I hope you'll enjoy the full story when it's out

tags: @better-imagination-9 @better-imagination-9

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?” 

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle. 

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold. 

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him. 

“...No proof.” 

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you. 

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige. 

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational. 

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair. 

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you. 

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the beat up, rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard. 

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?” 

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought. 

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.” 

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and  you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless. 

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.” 

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed Words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly. 

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly. 

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?” 

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.” 

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. Thw fuck did they want?” 

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.” 

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?” 

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you. 

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest. 

“For a kid,” you chastised With a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.” 

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.” 

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.” 

Man. Man. 

“A statement.” 

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.” 

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up. 

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.” 

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

[ethereal-engene]

brightest of them all | woozi

pairing: bf!jihoon x gn!reader

genre: fluff // warnings: mentions of food & not proof-read

summary: when dropping by your boyfriend’s studio turns into him making a song of out of your poem // word count: ~1265

note: fully inspired by this post from @imagine-svt everyone say thank you to Aeris for her ideas and happy woozi day <3

100% in love with this concept b/c I is a poet myself so yeah :) (I’m using a line or two from one of my original pieces)

You decided to drop by Woozi’s studio to share some cake together and spend some time with him because you missed him so much. With Seventeen finishing up another stop for their Be The Sun tour, they must be tired but you knew Jihoon would be at the studio for god knows what. He’s either married to the music or the gym.

Knocking on the door until you’re met with Jihoon’s face wearing a somewhat annoyed face. His facial expression softened when his eyes registered that it's you. Right then and there, he opens the door for you to come in.

When you set down your things and look at him. He’s staring at you with tired eyes but still full of love. Noticing it, you open your arms and watch as he leans into them. A sigh comes out. “God, I forgot how much I really missed you. Tour is fun but it’d be funnier if you were there, my love. Also what’d you think of dream?”

A drawn hum is heard from you. “It’s a really catchy and heartfelt song. Honestly I wasn't expecting it but you know I’ll always love your music. I seriously can’t get over how skilled you are in penning lyrics. They’re always so meaningful… okay well most of the time. And you know I wish I could join y’all on tour but unfortunately I have a full-time job that isn’t being an idol.”

He gets up after hearing that because he has to say what he’s about to say next to your face. “My love, I appreciate your kind words and I really believe that you would be great at writing lyrics too. Like have you seen and read the poems you’ve written? They’d make such great lyrics and in fact, let’s go write a song with them right now!”

And with that, he got up first from the sofa and held out his hand. Without a second thought, you took it and tried to pull him back down to sit but failed. “Now, I don’t doubt it but can’t we do that another day? You just got back from Japan and are going to leave in a couple days again. And plus I got us this!”

You hold up the slice of cake with a smile on your face.

“Happy birthday, my red ruby!” You give him a kiss on the cheek before revealing what the cake looks like. The cake has a little ruby guitar and of course the letters spelling out happy birthday to Jihoon. If he could melt into a puddle right now, he would. He’s left speechless for a few seconds before thanking you.

“Uji…I know it’s your birthday and all but could I record a video of you with your cake saying shit this is red too? If you say yes, we can work on turning my poem into a song!”

He should have seen this coming from miles away because you haven’t stopped with the “shit, this is red too” jokes since Ruby came out. Jihoon rolls his eyes at your request but says yes. He won’t ever tell you out loud but he enjoys hearing them from you but also he does want to help you see how good at writing you are too. After recording the video, you send it to the seventeen & you group chat. Receiving multiple ㅋㅋㅋ messages from them. Then you two finally enjoy the cake together.

Not even a minute passes as you two devour the cake, he immediately holds your hand to go to where all of the magic happens. “Alright, my love. Show me one of your poems & we’ll go from there.” You nod and show him the poem.

Brightest of them all

They say to reach for the stars but what if I’ve already caught the brightest of them all?

“This kind of fits dream’s concept ever so slightly and it’s a sweet poem. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this poem is about me but I don’t think it is.” He wonders about who this is about but is brought out of his head when you answer him.

“Hmm originally I didn’t have a person in mind but now that I have you, you could say it’s about you.” Jihoon turns to you and does nothing but stare at you. He’s so in love with you and he hopes that you know that just like your poem, you light up his life too. Heart eyes are practically shooting out of his eyes.

He responds with a cute awww before returning to look at the poem that could essentially be a verse and parts of a chorus. However, he’s probably going to just focus on what’s on hand right now just to prove his point. So you two spend a good chunk of time going through what Woozi and his mastermind is thinking for this.

Starting to play around with samples of twinkles to emulate a star and being satisfied with the choices, Jihoon works his magic by creating a new rhythm and beat. He’s not doing it alone though, he gets your input at each step. Seeing if there’s something that could be changed to sound better or not. He smiles every time when he glances over at you having as much fun as him doing this. Thinking to himself, he’s got to do this with you more often. Imagine how powerful y’all would be penning lyrics together and more. Y’all would be unstoppable.

Now the final step of this process is having you two singing the lyrics or lines from your poem. Jihoon decided that because this was your poem, he didn’t want to change it unless you wanted to. You took that chance and removed or added a few words to make it flow better. Even if you weren’t the best at singing, he helped you get comfortable with it and guided you as he does with the members. Besides this was all for fun and only for your ears to hear.

Hearing the final product made your heart swell. It was a really cute snippet of what could be a full song. Seeing your reaction made Jihoon fall more in love with you if possible. “See, I told you. Your writing is just as good or even better than I am with song-writing!!” His arms folded and wearing a smirk. You can’t even hate or attempt to look annoyed at him. You’re still in awe of how good this turned out. “Yeah yeah whatever. It’s not like I didn’t believe you, geez.” You ended up pouting a little before he kissed it away.

“I know I know, I’m just saying. If you ever wanted to go into song-writing or the music industry, I’ve got you.”

“Yeah, I know Uji and for the record baby. I think you are THE music industry mister genius singer-songwriter producer dancer performer composer all-rounder woozi of seventeen.” He chuckles and hides into your shoulder. It sounds like today you were on a mission to get him all flushed and blushed with all of the compliments, well at least more than usual. What can you say? You’ve mastered making your boyfriend turn into a ruby. (Not sure if that made sense but essentially making him blush a lot that his face is as red as a ruby)

Little bonus: he ends up re-recording what y’all made with his own voice to share with everyone on twitter with the caption: “the brightest of them all” which is the title of the poem :)

WAH HAPPY UJI DAY GUYS !! I hope you enjoyed this and I love him sm and really love this idea a little too much. Thank you so much for reading 

If you enjoyed it as well please do interact by sending in an ask, leaving a note, reblogging with tags, or even messaging me! Or if you didn’t like it, that’s fine too

signing off with love for woozi

- ash

[bluegekk0]

Can I just say how much I adore your Grimm design? The more muscular torso in contrast to his slim figure in the game is incredibly intimidating on its own, but the added horror that is his cape makes him terrifying. I particularly love how you draw his mouth. The inclusion of his fangs and the way his face is structured makes him snakelike, especially with his scaly torso texture. He is certainly something bugs would see in their nightmares. Bravo.

The fact that he’s dating a puppy-eyed, round-bellied, therapy-needing shrimp beast makes him even better.

aaah thank you! it means so much to hear this!! i'm personally very happy with his design so i'm glad to see that people like it!

i will admit that the shapes i chose for him were purely self-indulgent. my brain goes crazy for top heavy characters, it's such an aesthetically pleasing silhouette design for me and i think it fits him very nicely, even if it kind of flips his body shape upside down compared to the canon (he's a lot more bottom heavy there). also, i think it's quite obvious by now that i miiiiiight have a lil crush on him haha. not in the usual sense (aroace here after all) but man his design is just so attractive on an aesthetic level to me, i'm obsessed with him. and judging by some of the comments i get under my art of him, it seems to be contagious. so it's a double win in my eyes hahahah

the cloak was a late addition, i struggled with it for a while. if you look at the older art i made of him, there was nothing really unusual about it. it went from a doctor strange like cape (the oldest design, i don't really like it now but i think it looked kinda cool at the time) to something closer to his in game sprites. the biggest change at that point was the addition of the fluffy collar, mainly because i thought it fit him but also because it was less frustrating to draw than those damn collar noodles/petals. i didn't get the doc ock idea until very recently, but it started as something i had in mind for nightmare king as opposed to just grimm. then i decided that screw it, he's a god even in his physical form. he can have a wacky tentacle cloak as a treat. rule of cool and all that. very happy that i went with that in the end, it really gives him that oomph. as a bonus, the way it behaves (splitting, twirling around, forming into sharp spikes) was inspired by the recent spider-man 2 gameplay reveal, and by extension venom in general

the head was also a somewhat recent change, i did stick to a more canon-like round headshape for a while, but i found it to look too pug-like, especially in ship art with fpk. so i returned to my grimm design roots and gave him a longer snout like on the very first design (long snout = more kisses >:) ). very happy with how snake like it ended up looking. i loved the idea of him having vampire like fangs (LOVE vampires. they're like, the coolest. and the sexiest) so the snake appearance was a coincidence, but i am so glad it happened. and like you said, it makes him look even more like a creature from nightmares

and yes, love me a good contrast in a ship. a big beefy vampire that oozes confidence and charisma, and a sad little lizard shaped like a sack of potatoes? yeah they're perfect for each other in my eyes. big "extrovert adopts an introvert" energy there, plus visually they just look really cool together i think. the height difference and the contrast in appearances really add a lot to how dynamic they are as a ship imo

but yeah thank you so much for this again! i went on a bit of a tangent there but it's because it makes me so incredibly happy when people say they enjoy my designs. i try my best to make the au versions of the character "my own" if that makes sense, so it really means a lot to hear positive feedback!

[starlahuskyz]

Ooohhh wise and badass beautiful artist Star, I ask theee!!!

Any art tips or tricks on how to get better? Practice yes of cource, but any others??? Becuse yiur art and art style I eat up and sooo badly wanna get better like your art goals 100%

Okay firstly...I'm glad my art is considered a goal to you I'm gonna explode

And secondly about art improvement, I'm not the best at at giving advice but I'll try my best.

In my personal opinion, I usually try to take inspiration from artists I admire and incorporate certain aspects of their art into my own. This is how I ended up with the style I currently have. It took some experimenting and figuring out what I wasn't happy with in my previous art style. Just looking at my previous work compared to my new work, the change in style is obvious

Using these as examples, I came to a conclusion about my art that I wasn't happy with the cleanliness and bold line work. I personally felt that the art sorta feels bland and boring. Soon after looking at some artists and doing some studies, I came into a new style which felt more organic and had more personality. Not to mention the art comes with imperfections that feel somewhat natural and never look too odd, it adds personality.

Of course this is all my opinion, you might feel differently about this but that's just how I see art progression. Just 'practicing' was never quite enough for me. I had to actively study and find something that fit my personal taste. And inspiration from other artists was something that I used to help further my art skills. Sorry if this wasn't too helpful but I don't really know what else to say tbh.