#always wanted to do woodcarving :]

[existencebringsonlypain]

carved my first thing! it's a fish! stained with the blood of my enemies (me) (it's my blood) (I stabbed myself on accident)

[arecaceae175]

Gratitude Part 1: Wild

Summary: Eight times Sky receives a gratitude crystal from the chain plus one time he gives some away

WELCOME this is inspired by this post chain by @linkvcr and @somer-writes! I'm going to post each section on tumblr until they're all done, then I'll combine (and edit lol) them for AO3 :D

This one is based on and uses some dialogue directly from the woodcarver comic by @linkeduniverse

Part 2. ART!

Wind blew lazily through the trees, rustling the leaves pleasantly. One fell and floated down onto Sky’s lap. He brushed it away and it fell next to the pile of wood chips from his latest carving. He was essentially finished; even the decorations were done. He was chipping away at any imperfections he could find– and fixing any more he created– to keep his hands busy.

A bird chirped in the distance. Sky eagerly looked up and followed its path over the forest. It was so cool. Sky racked his brain for a word to describe how incredible the bird was, but couldn’t come up with anything more eloquent. He laughed softly to himself and turned his attention back to his carving. 

“What are you laughing at, birdbrain?” Legend asked. Sky smiled at the nickname. 

“True to my name, I was watching a bird. It was cool,” Sky said. 

“Of course you were,” Legend said, as his eyes roamed the skies to find the bird himself. Sky smirked. 

“Food’s ready!” Wild called. 

“Perfect timing!” Sky said. He blew a breath over the spoon to knock off the loose shavings, then wiped it down with a cloth. It was perfectly smooth.

Sky hopped to his feet and walked over to the group with the spoon hidden behind his back.

“Okay, so it’s a light meal today, since we had that amazing soup earlier. Rice and vegetables over here, and then there’s some meat if you want. Cucco in that bowl and deer in that bowl. But I put some vegetables with protein in, so you’ll be fine without those,” Wild explained, pointing to the bowls as he talked. “Oh, and no peppers.”

Sky felt a warm feeling in his chest. Wild put so much care into their meals and ensured they catered to everyone’s individual preferences. It wasn’t easy to make one meal that suited nine people from different backgrounds, but Wild made it work every time.

“Oh, I need a spoon for the rice. Um,” Wild turned to dig through his cooking supplies.

“How about this one?” Sky said. 

Wild turned around and his eyes widened in surprise as Sky held out the spoon. His mouth dropped open slightly as Sky pushed the spoon into his hands. 

“You made this?” Wild asked. 

“I did! For you,” Sky asked. “As a thank you for always making us such good food.”

“Wow!” Wild said. He held the spoon up to his face, closely inspecting the patterns. A spark of orange flickered to life above his head. It wasn’t quite a full crystal, but the sight made Sky smile warmly nonetheless.

“This is beautiful work,” Wild said. 

Sky beamed. “Thank you!” 

Wild’s face fell from its smile. Sky mirrored the expression and stepped closer. 

“What, what’s wrong? Do you not like it?” Sky asked. 

Wild frantically shook his head and his grip on the spoon tightened. “No, I love it! I’m just… what if I break it?”

“You probably will,” Sky said with a chuckle. Wild looked up at him with wide eyes full of worry.

“But that’s okay. It’s meant to be used. If you use it enough to wear it down, I’ll know I did a good job,” Sky said. 

“Are you sure?” Wild asked. 

“Promise,” Sky said. 

Above Wild’s head, the spark rapidly expanded into a full gratitude crystal. Sky watched it with awe as it floated over and into his chest, where its warmth spread throughout his body. Sky wiggled in happiness.

“Thank you, Sky. I love it,” Wild said. 

“You’re very welcome,” Sky said, his smile bright and wide. 

Next Part ->

EDIT 01/19/2024: THERE IS ART NOW!!!! This art by @linkvcr :DDDD

[punkitt-is-here]

How can I cultivate the same, "just keeping making stuff all the time" kind of energy you have? It's very impressive and something I wish I could do!

well, theres a couple reasons i think! one is that i just found ways to be satisfied with small amounts of work. its in part because of my ADHD, but my parents were always trying new things (motorcycles, leatherwork, acrylic paint, collage art, photography, video editing) so that definitely rubbed off on me; i had a great example of people just wanting to try stuff. i keep making stuff all the time because i love trying out new things; you don't have to be an expert to try something new! you just have to have a desire for it! wanna make a zine? google it! wanna write a comic? give it a shot! wanna get into woodworking? buy a carving knife and find a stick or something! i think theres plenty of ways to find entry points into interesting stuff and you gotta let yourself be okay with making shit that sucks just because its fun. which leads me to my second point!!

im okay with being dogshit at stuff! i try new things, i kind of suck at them, and i think it's either 1. cool that i made it this far or 2. kinda funny that this is what its like at the moment. i know that sucking is never permanent, everything can be improved with time, and rarely does anyone ever magically get good at something first try. i think of myself as a talented artist, but its over the course of 2+ decades of drawing; im always improving, and no matter what im going to find things i want to get better at, so why fault myself now for not being perfect? a couple of months ago i really wanted to try woodcarving, so i made spoon with my dad. did it turn out great? not really! you cant even use it as a spoon! but im glad i tried it, it was fun, i had a great time with my dad, and now i know a little bit more going in next time. the idea that you have to be perfect or make tangible progress every single time you try something new is a recipe for burnout. i promise you, it doesnt matter if something doesn't come out like God's Gift to Humanity! Did you have fun? did you learn something? are you satisfied in some small part? good!

(pictured: tha spoon)

last, im just really easy to please myself! I'll make a doodle or implement an idle animation in my game or color a piece and go "wow! thats so cool i did that :)" and it really is just a matter of realizing that its fucking COOL to create stuff, no matter how small! whatever you made didn't exist before you, especially in your own unique way, and now it does! doesn't that rule?! i'm obsessed with it! even if its just a stick figure, its a stick figure you made, and it wasn't there before. thats fucking awesome!!! art is so cool!!!! i think that being happy with small goals and victories is a great way of trying out new things and showing off cool stuff u made, no matter what skill level. :) this turned into a whole big thing, but i hope this helps! tl;dr is try things if they seem fun, be okay with not being good at them, and find stuff about it that makes you happy or satisfied!

[aphrodijin]

swing life away | min yoongi

pairing: min yoongi x fem!reader

synopsis: it's your first anniversary as a married couple but not only did you forget today's special occasion, you also didn't prepare a self-made gift for your husband -- except for the bundle of joy in your womb.

rating: 18+

word count: 5.2k

tags/content warning: married au, pregnancy, slight angst, miscommunication, mentions of infidelity (no one's cheating), mentions of food and being vegan (no one's vegan), usage of babe/baby as endearment, semi-public sex, SMUT in the forms of oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this unless you want kids or std), slight spanking, yoongi being a carpenter/loving husband/dumpling/etc.

this fic is inspired by the song "swing life away" by rise against and yoongi's woodcarving vlog :] enjoy!

Min Yoongi was many things.

He’s a skilled carpenter with his own woodshop business by day, and a rising songwriter/record producer by night. He’s a confident all-star basketball player back in his high school days and can still shoot perfectly whenever he plays with some of your shared friends in the backyard these days. He’s a great cook too, always indulging your cravings.

Min Yoongi was many things but most importantly, he’s your husband.

And a very observant one.

It’s been more than a month when he first noticed it. He wasn’t exactly sure what was “it,” but he knew it wasn’t good. He could tell there was something bothering in your mind one night you went home from work and claimed it’s nothing instead of ranting to him like the usual. Just a bad day at work.

A week after that was when you started to stay long hours at work, looking more pale and exhausted when you get home. It baffled Yoongi why you would spend more hours there if it’s stressing you and you’ve never actually worked overtime, but he knew he’s not one to talk about spending more time at work when he has two jobs and does one of those said jobs at home, so he shut his mouth. He didn’t say anything.

Not when you changed your perfume from an intoxicating fruity scent to a soft floral one. Not when he saw a receipt of you having your car interior cleaned and also changed the smell of it. Not when you didn’t want to have sex anymore, always pushing his hands away when they start to wander down there.

A lot of new small things bothered him, especially the last one but what made him almost lose it was when you had mistaken his dish, the one you claimed to be your favorite, for a different one.

x◇x◇x

“Do you like it?”

You nodded, despite still blowing the steam off of your spoon. When you finally tasted it though, he could tell on the look on your face that there’s something missing on his dish. “What is it? Did I not put enough fish sauce or tomato sauce?”

“You put fish sauce in this?” You asked, smiling adorably at your husband and reached across the table to hold his hand in assurance. “It tastes fine, babe, but there’s no need for fish sauce in this. You could’ve added more liver spread and cheese though. You know I love a lot of cheese in this.”

Yoongi closed his eyes for a moment to breathe. He understood the cheese part, you always add cheese to a lot of dishes that doesn’t even need cheese. “Y/N, I didn’t put liver spread because that dish doesn’t require liver spread. It needed fish sauce.”

“What are you talking about? Caldereta is all about the tender beef, tomato sauce, liver spread, and cheese!”

“That's afritada, Y/N. You’re favorite dish back home is afritada.”

Yoongi blinked and composed himself, trying not to look so wounded. He’s so damn sure you’re favorite was afritada, you’ve talked about it a lot. Hell, he’d already cooked it a couple of times before. He had the recipe that he searched online bookmarked on his browser, and he even went to the lengths of jotting them down on his journal just in case the link is taken down.

“Afritada… you mean this is chicken?” You scooped for some meat parts from the reddish soup dish, and there it was, your recent enemy: chicken. “I can’t eat chicken right now, Yoongi, I'm sorry.” You sat straight up, covering your mouth and nose with your hand.

“Of course, it’s chicken. It’s always been chicken, Y/N. It’s a chicken dish, that’s why you love it so much. Or loved, apparently, judging by your actions tonight.”

“I'm sorry,” your voice came out muffled as your hand was still covering your mouth.

“When did you start hating chicken?” he asked as he stood up to take your plate away and check the pantry to prepare something else for you.

“Um, my coworker, Seokhoon, he’s practicing to be a vegan lately so we thought we’d support him by also not eating meat…”

Yoongi’s ears perked up, hearing how your answer sounded uncertain and more like a question, so he pressed more, looking over his shoulder at you. “You were more than ready and excited to eat beef and cheese earlier but you wouldn’t eat chicken right now?”

You stared dumbfoundingly at him before shrugging. “I’m trying with small things like egg and chicken.”

“I made you an omelet for breakfast earlier.” He pointed out, holding your gaze.

“I… just started… to try being vegan earlier at lunch. And also meat are becoming pricey these days, our salary might not be enough. Sooner or later, we’re gonna have to cut back on our expenses. What would you rather give up—chicken or beef?”

Of course, Yoongi would rather eat tofu and bean sprouts for the rest of his life if it meant you get to eat properly and satisfy your cravings. But he didn’t bother to reply that as he cooked you a different dish that night. Fuck Seokhoon for influencing you to be vegan. Fuck the government for the rising prices and not handling the economy better.

x◇x◇x

Ever since that dinner night, Yoongi began to question your marriage. He wanted to talk to you because he didn’t know what to make of your actions anymore, but everytime you two were in the room together, he could you tell you were uncomfortable and couldn’t wait to get out of the situation. Besides, he’s afraid to ask because he knows he’s not prepared for any possible answers you'll give him.

You cheated? Yoongi knew it’s impossible. It had to be because he wouldn’t know what to do with that with that revelation. That would honestly break him.

You lost your job and was just actually driving around town to look for a new one and pass the time? It sounded stupid but not impossible. He would be disappointed and wish that you had told him sooner to prepare and possibly take on a third job.

You’re pregnant? He supposed this is a realistic scenario. You two had talked about this sincerely before getting married, of course, both wanting two kids. He just feels like it’s still early for babies and you two haven’t done all your goals as a married couple before becoming parents.

So he told himself to wait, that you would open up to him when you’re finally ready to unburden your problems. He’s a patient man after all.

But his patience seemed to be running thin today on the morning of your anniversary when he rolled over to your side as he woke up to cuddle you closer and hopefully start the day buried inside you.

He knew you’re awake, even with your eyes closed. You've been waking up earlier than him lately, one of your many changing habits. He took your hand that was hugging your stomach and pressed a soft kiss on your fingers, on your palm, on your wrist, trailing them across your arm up to your shoulder.

“Y/N,” he whispered your name, wishing for you to open your eyes when he nipped at your jaw. He called your name once again as his lips were ghosting over yours. Your eyelashes fluttered open just enough to look at him and when he finally saw your eyes, he leaned down to kiss you deeply.

You freed your hand from his to curl your fingers up into his long hair, urging him closer while the other slid up beneath his shirt, feeling the heat of his body that you’ve been missing for weeks now. You pulled your knees up as Yoongi settled himself in between your legs, grinding his hard cock against your core.

But just as his own hand started to drift down on your hips, you slowed down, giving his lips one last kiss before pressing your forehead to his. You both stayed there without any movements at all, just gasping for air and holding each other’s skin and flesh tightly every now and then.

When it sounded like you were about to apologize, he pressed a kiss on your forehead and whispered, “Happy anniversary, baby,” before bolting right out of the bed, before you could even say it back to him.

x◇x◇x

Despite your husband having his own woodshop and fulfilling his dreams in the music industry, you didn’t let go of your job when you and Yoongi got married.

You were on your way back to your desk from your third visit to the bathroom that morning when you saw the delivery man on the front door of the store carrying a gigantic bouquet of flowers he almost disappeared behind it.

“Min Y/N?” he asked, looking around the store.

Jia turned to the direction of the bathroom and pointed at you when she saw you. You stayed your feet at your place. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move. The flowers looked beautiful—a bouquet of pale and dark red carnations, along with sunflowers, wrapped meticulously in craft paper and tied with a golden ribbon—but there’s a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach that’s making it hard for you to appreciate this.

“This is for you!” The delivery man presented the bouquet to you with a proud smile. When you didn’t move, he gingerly took your arms to place the flowers in them and then took off.

A minute must have passed by yet none of you and your colleagues moved or talked. It wasn’t until a client came in and needed assistance. Jia wrapped her arm around you and walked you back to your desk. As you sat down, you caught sight of the red card sticking out of the flowers. HAPPY 1ST ANNIVERSARY, BABY.

Reading Yoongi's handwritten note, you recognized that bad feeling again that you knew all too well lately. Shame and guilt. You had to close your eyes and practice your breathing exercises before those bad feelings in your stomach turn into a pile of chunky vomit across the floor.

Jia, oblivious to your anxiety, swooned over the flowers. “Happy anniversary, Y/N!”

It’s the second greeting you’ve received today and you couldn’t help but wince when you remember how you froze when Yoongi greeted you.

You didn’t know how this special event slipped up your mind when staring at your calendar was all you’ve been doing lately. You were aware that your own anniversary was near and you even had a lot of ideas for DIY gifts to give to your husband.

You tried to make it up to Yoongi by going after him and showering together to have some hot shower sex even though the thought of sex was making you nervous lately. Yoongi turned down the offer though, saying you’re both gonna be late for work, which was a very pathetic excuse considering he’s his own boss and your own work doesn’t start in a couple of hours. So you showered together in silence.

Just as you’re about to calm down, you’re eyes widened in panic because not only you forgot your own anniversary day, of course you also forgot to actually make a gift despite tons of ideas in your journal and Pinterest board.

“Jia, I didn’t get him a gift!” It wasn’t even noon yet, and you’re already close to breaking down for the third time today.

“Well, the department store is just around the corner. I can come with you at lunch to buy something last minute.”

You shook your head and explained to her that buying some expensive stuff isn’t enough. Knowing your husband, he already made you a gift days ago. You’re not sure if it’s something from his woodshop or if he composed you a song, all you know is Yoongi probably made you a gift with love. No amount of money could compare to that.

“Well, there’s always sex?” At the sight of your face crumpling once again, Jia took back her suggestion. “Or not! Honestly, Y/N, this is why I’m all single and alone in life so I don’t have to give people gifts and you’re making me stress about your own anniversary gift.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“And really, you’re worrying about gifts when…” she paused to look down at your belly. “Have you told him yet?”

You shook your head.

“Well, there’s your anniversary gift, congratulations!”

“This is a stupid gift." Despite your harsh words, you wrapped arm protectively around your middle.

“Why? You said you want to give him something you made, well you made that. He even helped, too!”

You couldn’t possibly just announce you’re pregnant on your anniversary day? Right? Sure, it’s convenient and practical – two celebrations in one night!

But that’s not the actual thing that’s been bothering you. You’ve been hiding your condition to your husband for weeks now, when you should have told him that he’s a gonna be a dad the moment you saw the plus sign on a stick. But you didn’t because you’re scared and if you’re gonna be honest, also selfish. Selfish to have Yoongi the Husband™️ all to yourself just for a couple more days before he turns into Yoongi, your husband and the father of your unborn fetus. And then that selfishness turns into guilt for not telling him, for distancing yourself.

A part of you wished he’ll figure it out on his own, that’ll save you a speech.

x◇x◇x

Even before you started to spent late hours at work, Yoongi always comes home an hour or so before you. It usually gives him enough time to prepare for dinner.

However today, he asked his friend Seokjin to prepare a romantic dinner for you two as he would busy himself installing the porch swing he made as his anniversary gift for you.

With his long hair tied in a half bun, a few strands tucked behind his ears and locked into place with pins, and a safety googles on his face, Yoongi began by drilling two holes up into the ceiling joists where he would screw the hooks. When he’s done and swept away the dust, he took the chains that’s wrapped in rope for extra support and aesthetic purposes and attached them to swing before hoisting them up to the hooks.

Despite wanting his gift to be all handmade, Yoongi had no choice but to buy a small foam mattress and throw pillows to decorate the swing. He placed them all nicely and removed his googles before sitting down and testing the swing if it runs smoothly.

Swinging for a couple of minutes gave Yoongi enough time to relax from the stress of his jobs, from setting this swing up, from all his fears and worries.

It gave him enough peace from all the doubts and questions inside his head. He hoped that this would give you the same. He hoped that you seeing this swing – the one you dreamed for so long, the one that he promised you because how could he ever say no – will help you remember that the fact that you two get to celebrate this day was because of your love for each other and the trust you’ve built all these years even before marrying.

Yoongi had set up the swing in the right side of the house, facing a line of tall trees that secludes this house from the main road, and close enough to the backyard for some peace and privacy that if anyone walks or drives in to your lot, they wouldn’t see you right away as the beams would hinder their sight. But anyone who’s sitting here would see just fine if there’s someone coming in.

Just like Yoongi saw your car rolled in right away to park next to his pickup truck. He stood up and waved his arm to call your attention, excited to show you his gift. When you didn’t see him, he jogged up to the front and flashed a smile when you jumped up in surprise at the sight of him.

“What are you doing outside?”

“I have to show you something, come on!” He went to cover your eyes for surprise and guided you to the back.

You were expecting some surprise in the backyard, probably a dinner he cooked but your assumptions came into a halt as Yoongi stopped only after taking a few steps. When he removed his hands and told you to open your eyes, a cozy porch swing greeted your sight.

“That’s…” you trailed off, walking closer and wrapping your hand around the chain-rope. From the bulky design of the chain and rope to the uneven height of the wooden slabs of the back support, Yoongi made you the exact wooden swing that you drunkenly drew a long time ago when you two just started dating.

“Happy anniversary, Y/N.” You heard Yoongi say behind you, and you wish he had said it the way he greeted you this morning – with such coldness and hurt. You felt like you didn’t deserve this with the way you’ve been treating him this past month.

Not wanting to hurt him any longer and bring back normalcy in your relationship, you turned to look at him, your eyes teary and said, “I… I'm sorry, babe.”

“Why? What is it?”

“I…” You cleared your throat and wondered which should you say first: you didn’t get him any gift, or you’re pregnant. You figured you should go with the bad news first before softening the mood with the good news, you’re just not sure which is which. “I didn’t get you any gift. I actually forgot it’s our anniversary today, I’m sorry.”

Yoongi fell silent before chuckling nervously. Sure, forgetting your own anniversary was bad, but that’s little compared to what Yoongi was imagining these past few days. “That’s alright, I thought it was something serious.”

“Why? What did you think I was going to say?” you prodded before you drop your next bomb.

“I don’t know what I thought, honestly. Things haven’t been quite well with us lately, Y/N.” He shrugged, scratching his nape. “I thought of pregnancy. There’s one where you don’t actually have a job anymore and just didn’t want to say it. I also thought you’re cheating with fucking Seokhoon—”

“Seok-Seokhoon? Why the hell would you think that? I couldn’t stand that guy.”

“I don’t know Y/N, you tell me, you’re the one who suddenly didn’t want to eat chicken because fucking Seokhoon is trying to be vegan.”

You thought about the lamb chops Seokhoon devoured at lunch today. You also remembered the night Yoongi was referring to, when you almost spilled your guts literally and figuratively at the smell of the chicken.

“Seokhoon isn’t vegan. But one of your hunches is true.” You walked towards him, taking his hand in yours and placing it on your stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Yoongi froze for a minute, staring at your eyes down to your stomach that he’s touching. His gummy smile slowly broke into his face, giggling as he asked to confirm, “Pregnant? With babies?”

You nodded, matching his smile. “Yeah, pregnant, but hopefully just a singular baby. Or fetus, I’m not sure, I haven’t been to a clinic yet. I was putting it off because I want you to be there at the first checkup since I left you in the dark when I took the test. I'm really sorry about that, Yoongi, I just didn’t know how to say it. I was scared and nervous myself about this baby and I kn—”

Yoongi cut off your ramblings by kissing you. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry I thought you were cheating when you were feeling this way all on your own. I should’ve asked you.”

You shook you head. “I'm sorry I let you think that, too. But there’s no way I would’ve betray you for Seokhoon or anyone else, really. I love you so much, Yoongi.”

You stood in your toes to kiss him again, muttering again and again how much you love him and how sorry you were. His hands stayed firmly on each side of you, and you didn’t pushed him away this time. You looped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer.

This one kiss – after all those weeks of just pecking and short kisses, after the frustrating mess that happened earlier morning – was so hungry and powerful and mind-numbing. You wouldn’t even wanna stop if a lightning strike near you two. You missed him so much, you would’ve take him right here, right now.

But Yoongi pulled away, breathing ruggedly as he said, “You haven’t tried it yet.”

“Tried the what yet?”

“The swing, don’t you wanna take a ride on it?”

Despite his innocent question referring to the swing, your eyes mischievously glinted and an idea popped into your mind. You took his hand and gestured for him to sit down. Trying to calm yourself down, you kissed your husband first before prying his legs open and kneeling down between them, instead of sitting beside him.

“What are you doing?” he smirked, enjoying the sight in front of him.

“I was thinking I could ride you on it instead, but first…”

With a coy smile, you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear, freeing his hard cock. Licking your lips in anticipation, you wrapped your hand around him, thumb circling at the precum beading on his crown.

Yoongi hissed at sensation, bucking his hips up. “Fuck, baby, don’t tease me. It’s been a month.” His hands ran through your hair to keep them out of the way and prompted for you to start.

“Happy anniversary,” you greeted him before placing sloppy, wet mouth kisses on the head of his dick and moving them down while your hand was steadily stroking the base and the other was gently squeezing and rolling his balls.

When you made sure to coat every inch of his cock with your saliva, you kissed his crown one more time before taking him in your mouth, trying to fit whatever you can while your hand covered the rest.

“Ahh, that feels so good, babe. I’ve really missed you,” he rasped.

You moaned around him as you felt yourself getting wet even just at the sound of his voice and at the feeling of his heavy cock sliding in and out of your mouth. One of his hands weaved into your hair once again to carefully guide you at the pace he wanted. He bit his lip in concentration as he tried to restrain himself from just snapping his hips up to fuck your face but failing a couple of times, making you choke and teary-eyed.

Yoongi couldn’t help but groan at the sight of you, mouth wide open full of his cock, eyes in tears staring up at him. His other hand cupped your jaw, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“You’re doing so good, baby, taking my cock so well.”

His moans were getting louder and he started to lose control of his hips, a sign that Yoongi’s close to his orgasm. You released his cock to tease him a little bit, swirling your tongue over again at the sensitive spot of his crown as you pumped his length, making him all whiny as he repeated your name again and again like a mantra along with few curse words, before sucking him whole again with the intention of swallowing his hot cum. Which Yoongi delivered, a lot. And loudly.

You pulled yourself off of his cock, still semi-hard, and opened your mouth to show him that you’ve swallowed every drop of his cum. Still breathing heavily, Yoongi smiled proudly at you. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, Y/N baby. Come here.”

“Not to doubt you, but are you sure this won’t give out on us?” You asked, looking up at the ceiling where the swing is hanging.

“Of course not, at least three people can sit here. We’ll be fine, even when we finally have our kid sitting down here with us,” he replied, helping you get up at your feet.

You stared down at him, grinning at the thought of your kid playing at this very porch swing their daddy made in the future. But first, it’s gonna mommy and daddy’s turn on the swing for a while.

Because of the disastrous shower session earlier, you tried to make it up to your husband by wearing his favorite black lace lingerie underneath one of your red dress that gave out the equal vibe of classy and slutty to entice him on. You also figured, might as well wear them while you still can.

You unbuttoned the dress open from the top, revealing the lacy bra, causing Yoongi to raise his eyebrows.

“You wore lingerie to work?”

“Yeah, it turned out to be quite itchy and uncomfortable to wear for a long time actually,” you pouted. “Help me out of it, please.”

Yoongi leaned forward, one of his hands held you firmly by your waist while the other slipped beneath your dress, running his fingertips along the edge of your underwear before pulling them aside to sink a finger inside your cunt and moving it in a ‘come hither' motion. He added another finger while his thumb drew circles on your clit to send you over the edge.

You gasped, your hands paused from unclasping your bra to balance yourself on your husband’s shoulders as he stretched you out, spreading your slick all over your slit. When your juices had dripped down on his wrist, Yoongi took that as a cue that you’re wet enough and hooked his hands around your underwear to remove them before pulling you into his lap.

He gathered the skirt of your dress, bunching them up to your waist. You bit your lower lip as your pussy was pressing against his cock, feeling hard and thick against your wet core. Feeling impatient as Yoongi kissed your neck, you tried to move your hips, chasing that pleasure the friction gave you, in which you earned a gentle slap in the ass from him.

“Take this off,” he said, toying with the strap of your bra.

You nodded like a good girl, unclasping them from behind and took the straps of your shoulders. Yoongi pulled down your dress, revealing your tits. He stared at them for a second, both of his hands cupping each breast gently, thumbs grazing your soft skin and hardened nipple. You were about to make a joke when he leaned down to start licking and sucking one of your tits, while he massaged the other one.

While he was busy, you attempted to get yourself off by rocking your hips against him again, whether on his cock or his thigh, you didn’t care. A cry left your lips when he slapped your ass once again, a bit harder this time, before proceeding to grab your ass in his hands and dig his fingers in to help you move. You whimpered every time your sensitive clit rubbed pass his tip, making him almost poked your entrance.

Yoongi switched his attention on your other tit, but never faltering his movement to make you come on his cock. He could feel you’re close, your folds fluttering against his cock, your hips jerking more uncontrollably, your juices running down on his skin to the foam cushion he newly bought, making a mental note to buy a new one.

“Y—Yoongi…” you moaned, eyes scrunched close and head thrown back. “Oh, I'm gonna—oh fuck Yoongi—”

He looked up from your chest to stare at the fucked out expression on your face as you come, his hands on your hips controlling your move to help you ride out your orgasm. When he felt that you’re almost done coming down from your high, Yoongi lifted you up to line his tip against your entrance and helped you sink down on his cock. You moaned loudly at the feeling of your cunt being stretched out so deliciously after a month without an intercourse.

None of you spoke for a while, but you were thankful that Yoongi didn’t fuck you right away and instead let you adjust to the size as he sucked and nibbled every inch of your skin.

“If I’m pregnant right now, does that mean we don’t need a condom for a while? Or you can still get me pregnant while I’m pregnant?”

“It can happen, but it’s rare.” Yoongi saw your concerned expression, so he asked, “Do you want me to wear one?”

You smiled and shook your head immediately. “No. I want to feel you.” With that being said, you hooked your arms across his shoulders and started to bounce on his cock, grinding your clit on his pelvis everytime you come down.

Despite the frustrations and longing that Yoongi had built up for a month, he managed to calmly hold back and sit there as you ride him. At the back of his mind, he was also hesitant to pound his dick in and out of you without a care because he’s afraid he might hurt the baby. So he let you control the pace while his hands wander over your body, palming your tits and smacking your ass.

“Ahh Yoongi… please, fuck me.” You couldn’t keep your upper body straight anymore as your walls began on clenching around his dick, so you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I can’t—I feel so close again…”

“I know, baby, I got you now. You did great,” Yoongi whispered tenderly, placing a kiss on your head. He gripped your thighs in place, thrusting his hips upward into you and picked up the pace to bring you to your second orgasm.

You cried out in pleasure as Yoongi kept hitting that sweet spot inside you, your body beginning to tremble in his arms. You could feel him getting close too by the way his thrusts were being quick and sloppy so you curled your hand around the curly strands on his nape, your lips leaving wet kisses on his neck as you tried to give him hickeys.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, holy shit baby…”

You were lucky you live in a remote place and didn’t have any neighbors for miles as they would’ve surely heard Yoongi's loud groans and your high-pitched moans as you came together. Yoongi had thrust one more time inside you, bringing your hips down as he flushed your bodies together and filled your cunt with his thick cum.

None of you wanted to move at that moment, just catching up on your breaths and occasionally rocking your hips into each other for a potential round two when your stomach had a sudden craving — dumplings.

And dumplings reminded you of — “Oh my, god, we’re gonna have a baby dumpling in a few months.”

“I’m not a dumpling,” he groaned, burying his face on the crook of your neck as you laugh.

Min Yoongi was many things—a carpenter, a songwriter and producer, a basketball player, a dumpling (despite his denial), your loving husband, and in a few months, a proud father.

Hello! Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and please, reblogs and feedbacks are always welcome and appreciated :)

If you want to support me and help with my dental care funds, please consider tipping me at ko-fi.com/aphrodijin or commission me to write you a fic. I could really use some help.

Thank you so much once again, have a great day! x

©️ 2022 aphrodijin

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

If you enjoy what I do, please consider donating to my Ko-fi :) Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

Everyone has their favorite cousin; for you, it's Sabrina.

A year younger than you, she shines brighter than any star. Whenever Aunt came to visit, the two of you would escape to worlds of your own creation.

In the comfort of your childhood backyard, two pink napkins were laid out, creating the perfect setting for a whimsical tea party. Cookies and toy cups waited on the makeshift tables. She would always wear her little crown that she never forgot to bring, and you would eagerly gather your beloved stuffed animals to join the celebration as additional guests.

Born to a single teenage mother—who, in Mother's eyes, was the height of irresponsibility, “unfit” for motherhood—Sabrina was forever shrouded in your mother's harsh judgment that "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." That she would follow in her mother's footsteps, and it wouldn't be so surprising.

But Sabrina was far from the “troubled child,” grew into a girl warmer than the summer sun, kinder than the gentle grace of spring.

Sabrina was your favorite cousin, the one you wished could maintain the kind of closeness you shared during your youth. However, just as everything good in your life, fate always had a way of destroying it.

When Sabrina’s mother married a kind, steady man after years, it was as if a switch flipped inside Mother. Gone was any goodness she had shown to her sister and Sabrina. Any invitation from Sabrina’s mom was met with excuses—"we were too busy,” “it wasn’t a good time.” Lies, more lies. The real reason was far more simple: it was the bitter, green-eyed jealousy.

Mother always did crave pity and attention from others. But the pity she received from family after Father left wasn’t the kind she wanted.

It symbolizes her failure—now, a single mother struggling when her sister thrived with her loving husband and another baby on the way. And when Sabrina’s stepfather agreed to pay for Sabrina to start taking ballet classes like you, Mother took it as competition.

She had made ballet your personal hell.

While Mother brags about your ballet success, flaunting ribbons and reviews, her pride has a price behind closed doors. Nothing is enough to satisfy her, and the standards she holds for you reach for the impossible. Every competition is followed by a barrage of criticism—you could have placed higher, pointed your toes more.

Third place? "You’re wasting my money, girl." Second place earns you a dismissive "Second only means you’re second best." Even first place yields her saying, "Don’t get a big head over a stupid ribbon. It doesn't mean you're the best; it just means everyone else was worse."

Just as everything is good in your life, fate always has a way of destroying it.

(Or is it your mother?)

The old, naïve part of your mind argues that she's doing this for your own good. After all, diamonds aren’t made without pressure—a familiar refrain she repeats every time you beg her to stop, every time you sob so intensely that you struggle to breathe, feeling like a sacrificial lamb. And every time, she just watches in detached observation, with the slight upturn of her lips like a scientist admiring the results of her own making. Like a woodcarver appreciating the strokes of her knife.

Like a mother to her daughter.

(Because she's my mother, she should want the best for me, right?)

And that old, naïve part of your brain is still alive, apparently, even after you’ve left home and settled miles away. She's your mother; she must have your best interests at heart, even though the harshest words often come from her mouth.

She only has your future in mind, even if sometimes you wonder if she loves you at all.

The subtle thump of the car against the window jolted you out of your memories, and you opened your heavy eyelids, groggily regaining your bearings. You wiped your dry lips, relieved no drool dripping your chin in your nap. Looking out the window, you could see the trees whizzing by. Beside you, Simon's eyes fixed intently on the empty, straight road ahead.

At first, you had firmly convinced yourself that you wouldn't attend Sabrina's wedding, giving Simon excuses of work obligations and other lies to justify your absence. Then, Henri happens: he decreed the entire week mandatory rest for all dancers—prompted by the high stress level, but it's likely a more... specific case of frustration that pushed him over the edge: a certain ballerina who still danced her Black Swan coda like a flailing, drunken mess.

Finding yourself with an open schedule due to the unexpected break, emptiness now filled your time, leaving ample room for unwanted negative feelings—specifically, guilt. You end up reconsidering everything, even taking a Barbie out of your worn cardboard box from the closet. The doll bore the results of your and Sabrina's "artistic" minds, its hair chopped off and skin adorned with Sharpie tattoos. He responds to the doll's rough state with a sarcastic compliment.

That’s how you ended up on a short road trip with Simon. The man’s long leg stepped on the accelerator as the car continued to speed through the English countryside. Glancing up, the tiny skeleton charm swung gently where it hung, its hollow sockets seeming to stare back at you.

“Are we almost there?” you asked Simon.

At your question, he turns to you, eyes lingering for a moment before redirecting his focus on the road. “Reckon another five minutes, and we’ll be pulling up.” 

You look out the window. More trees; the dense forest seems to go on forever. Finally, a break appears, and up ahead looms the sturdy building you assume is the venue listed on the wedding invitation.

It was a manor, with solid brown brick walls and a three-story structure topped by a roof spanning each wing. Double-paneled doors were flanked by columns and arched windows. All around, emerald grass was cut to perfection, not a single blade out of place. In the center stood a two-tiered fountain, adorned with carvings of little angels spouting water into a circular pool. It was a heartwarming, romantic storybook vision.

Tearing your eyes from the scene, you glance over at Simon in amazement. “You certainly seem to know your way without GPS.” You comment.

He gave a noncommittal grunt, one-handedly turning the steering wheel as he maneuvered the car into an open spot behind a row of others. “Got a good sense o' direction, is all.”

As the rumble of the engine fell silent, you unbuckled your seatbelt but lingered in your seat, not quite ready to exit the safety of the vehicle. Through the window, you searched for distractions to ignore the uneasy flips in your stomach.

Simon reached out to reach the dashboard; you moved back slightly to give him more room. He grabbed for his plain black surgical mask, but your curious gaze landed on something else. A pair of black gloves—each finger had a contrasting white skeleton bone. You leaned in without thinking, drawing them out to inspect closely.

“I see you have a thing for skeleton.”

Simon glanced sideways at you as he hooked his mask over his ears. “Keep things interestin’,” he said lightly, voice muffled by the material. He pressed the wire along the bridge to mold it to the shape of his nose.

Pulling his keys from the ignition switch, he pocketed them with a jingle. Simon pushed open the door and stepped out in one smooth movement. He rounded the front of the car, walking to reach for your door. Pulling the handle to assist your exit, you took a deep breath before accepting his offer and slipping out of the vehicle.

A loud gasp pierced the air, followed by rapid footsteps rushing towards you. You turned your head from the sound of your name being called, finding a familiar face staring back at you. Sabrina. Now, a grown woman, changed from the girl you once knew. She stretched out her arms as she pulled you into a tight hug, blonde curls bouncing with her joyful smile.

“You came!” She cried happily, pulling back to look at you. “I’m so glad you made it!”

You returned her smile, your nerves melting away from her presence alone—the magic Sabrina had on everyone. “I wouldn’t miss your big day,” you told her.

She swept her eyes over you from head to toe appraisingly. “And look at you! So beautiful!” she said, and you were sure it was just the dress you had bought two days ago doing its job.

Sabrina shifted her gaze, and you remembered the companion standing patiently beside you. Her eyes swept over him assessingly, mixed with curiosity and wariness. Same old Sabrina. She glances at you briefly, and you know an introduction is in order.

Drawing a breath, you begin, “Sabrina, this is Simon. He, uh…” Your voice faltered, unsure of what label to use to describe him.

Simon reached out with nonchalant confidence to Sabrina. “Pleasure.”

With a hint of skepticism, Sabrina's lips tested the unfamiliar name, "Simon." Her face contorted as if it tasted bitter. She narrowed her eyes as she noted, “Funny, she has never mentioned you before.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and a chill ran down your spine as you replied, “There just… hasn’t been a good time to bring it up.”

You hoped that your explanation would be enough to divert the attention away from Simon, but it seemed futile. Sabrina was infamous for her stubbornness and overly protective nature, especially when it came to those she cared about. Like a tigress, she fixated a calculating gaze on him, as if preparing to pummel him on the spot if he gave her the slightest reason.

“Right,” she mumbled.

Sabrina made a show of dropping the conversation but felt compelled to ask one more question. “Any particular reason for the mask?” Her tone was sharper now, as if daring Simon to answer her.

Hastily, you jumped in. “He’s just feeling under the weather, doesn’t want to spread his cold.” It was a stupid lie, and you knew it, but Sabrina tilted her head in faux consideration.

“How thoughtful.” She commented, suspicion lingering at the edges. Hardening her eyes once more, she gave Simon a subtle threat. “You better take good care of this one.”

“Always.” Simon replied, calm and sure.

Satisfied, Sabrina’s expression switched like flickering sunlight. Clapping her hands in excitement, she announced, “Alright, time to meet Andrew and the others! And I’ll show you to your room!”

With that, she spun on her heels and marched toward the door, her long skirt swirling. Simon and you followed after her at a more sedate pace. Your heart rate slowed in relief that the confrontation was over.

Glancing at Simon, you grimaced, muttering a hushed “Sorry about her.”

Simon says nothing, depriving you of the answer, and you thought this was his way of punishing you for the excessive protectiveness of your cousin. He had driven a considerable distance to accompany you to a wedding of someone he didn’t even know, only to be met with suspicion and unwarranted scrutiny by Sabrina, then tasked with the responsibility of "taking care" of you, despite not even being your boyfriend.

However, in stark contrast to your feelings, Simon seemed to brush off the situation with nonchalance. The slight lift of his black mask and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes clearly indicated a smile hidden beneath it. There was no offense taken.

As you emerged outside the back of the manor, bright sunlight made you blink to adjust. When your blurry eyes cleared, a beautiful scene was laid out before you.

In the wide green field stood a picturesque wedding arch, still bare of the decorations that would soon adorn it. Nearby, tables draped in crisp white linens were set where groups mingled, laughing. Some were busy gossiping and enjoying the buffet; some were occupied in a croquet match.

Sabrina chuckled beside you. “They’re trying to recreate a Bridgerton scene but clearly failing miserably.” At her comment, you smiled too, admiring the carefree warmth pervading the atmosphere.

Gesturing wide, Sabrina said, “Help yourself to the buffet over there, and tea or coffee if you’d like. Oh, and this is Andrew, my fiancé!”

A tall, handsome man approached and pressed a kiss to Sabrina’s cheek. She bloomed with a rosy blush as she beamed up at him. “Babe, this is (Y/N) – you know, the cousin I’ve always told you about, my sister from another mother!” She gushed.

Her sweet description of you stirred a smile in your heart. You turned to Andrew, accepting his handshake. “It's wonderful to meet you. Sabrina talks about you all the time,” he says.

“And this is Simon. He came with (Y/N).”

Andrew reached out to offer a new handshake with Simon. “We're glad to have you both. Please, make yourselves at home.”

Giving a nod, Simon took his hand. “Appreciate the welcome, mate.” He replied.

“Oh my God!”

A high-pitched, sharp voice pierces the air, shattering the calm. Your head pivots, and you see your aunt making her way towards you, her arms stretched out in a gesture much like how Sabrina had welcomed you earlier. The embrace she gives you is as warm and smothering as you remember. Drawing back, she sweeps her teary eyes over you. “Look at you! You’ve grown into such a beauty!”

"Definitely," Sabrina chimes in, seconding her mother.

“It’s lovely to see you too, Auntie Joyce.” You replied, smiling at her.

Joyce pinched your cheek lightly before directing her attention past you, eyes widening in surprise. “And who is this?” she asked, gaze landing on Simon with curiosity. Before you could introduce him, she gasped even louder and glared at you as if she had just realized something big. “Why, he must be your boyfriend!”

Your heart leapt at your aunt's bold insinuation. Joyce didn't bother waiting for your confirmation before enveloping Simon in a tight hug. His shoulders tensed, and he looked confused—his hands hovering awkwardly, unsure of how to reciprocate.

Luckily, the ordeal wasn't prolonged, and your aunt finally retreated, not forgetting, of course, to give his bicep an extra appreciative squeeze. 

“Oh,” she chuckled, “you're quite the fit one, aren't you?”

“Mom, please!” Sabrina groaned, shaking her head at her mother’s antics.

Joyce dismissed her daughter's protests with a playful wave of her hand, saying, "Oh, come now, relax! It's a wedding, not a funeral." She positioned herself between you and Simon, slipping her arms through each of yours to guide you both forward.

“Just look at this place,” Joyce continued, her voice filled with admiration. “Isn’t it stunning? Sabrina had such brilliant ideas, she has a real eye for these things. Just wanted everything perfect for her and Andrew, they deserve the best.”

The older woman stopped in her tracks. She turned to the two of you, looking at you both in turn, hazel eyes filled with sincerity. Grasping each of your hands in hers, she hosted a warm, meaningful smile on her face.

“Mark my words, it’ll be your turn before you know it.”

The well-intentioned tone in your aunt's words was apparent. Auntie Joyce had always been sentimental, wearing her heart on her sleeve and never hesitating to express her thoughts. Yet you couldn't help but think that now, her words seemed misplaced—directed at the wrong people. After all, you and Simon weren't even dating, but rather just two people seeking each other's benefits and comfort. The concept of love seemed incredibly distant, and her trying to cling it to you felt like staining purity with sin.

Instead of imagining your own wedding, you feel panic building in your fingertips. You can hear your heartbeat—the ringing in your ears.

What does Simon think of the implications? He’s only here to accompany you, to make the anxiety easier to handle. But now, it’s as if you’ve brought him here for another purpose—a scheming opportunist trying to trap him with suggestions of commitment he’s never agreed to.

Before your thoughts could spiral further, a voice cuts through the chatter—an awfully familiar one, sending your body into instant shock.

“Joyce, where did you run off to?” It called out, tone softer, but your brain is only capable of recalling the rougher version of it.

Joyce waved at the newcomer, ushering her over. “Your daughter’s here with her boyfriend! Can you believe it? Why didn’t you say?”

Boyfriend. She had said it.

In that moment, horror washed over you. Your pulse quickened, racing like a frightened animal. Palms grew slick with perspiration. The world seems tilting off its axis. Something very sour stirred in your stomach, almost triggering you to retch onto the lush, green grass.

Then came the chuckle, low and mocking—and you're already aware of the person who now stands before you.

Slowly, you lift your gaze to meet the eyes so reminiscent of your own, settled in a face that still bears resemblance to the features you’ve inherited from her. She looks the same as the last time you saw her in San Francisco, except for the absence of anger, now replaced by a smile that graces her red lipsticked lips. It's a familiar expression, the exact one she uses whenever she detects hints of your defiance.

(The ghost haunting my dreams, the monster under the bed.)

The woman who had drilled into you time and again: A man’s heart is truly a wretched, wretched thing! Her vengeance against Dad had warped her into keeping the wound wet and bleeding so that it would not have time to heal, so neither of you forgot.

And here you are, betraying everything she had taught you by daring to bring a man into her world. Something crawled up your throat—heavier this time. This wasn’t panic; this was guilt.

When she saw it written on your face—the shame of your transgression—her eyes gleamed with cruel triumph at catching you out.

Auntie Joyce’s question was almost forgotten, but she never forgot. You watched her lips part, and her gaze changed to the one she always wore when she was watching your every move. Ever the watchful one.

“There just hasn’t been an opportunity yet.” She replied smoothly.

In that moment, with her lie not much different from yours for Sabrina, you realized something – that for all the distance between you, mother and daughter were never truly separate. Her poison still coursed through your veins, flowing in every pump of your blood. Every one of your thoughts and actions was controlled by her, whether she was in front of you or not.

Just as everything is good in your life, fate always has a way of destroying it. No, you disagreed.

It was my mother.

@strawberrygato @aprosiacperson @chipsbuttercream @arrozyfrijoles23

SUPPORT ME THROUGH KO-FI! CHECK MY WRITING COMMISSION. SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS HERE.

[pastafossa]

TW for those with religious trauma. A little long and just about something personal so putting it behind the cut, but basically:

I got to set a boundary and say No today, and that's huge.

I'm still mildly on FB to keep up with older friends and fam and events, and a few groups where I learn things generally from older folks (trust me, the old woodcarving guys aren't usually on tiktok). And let's just say I'm... very obviously not a Christian over there - not rude, not attacking, just happily on my own path. And there was this lady, who apparently had known me when I was 5 or so and had somehow stuck around. She had recently taken it upon herself to evangelize and 'bring me back' by repeatedly bringing up me loving Jesus at 5, and talking about God at me, and I am loved by him and etc etc don't you still talk to him, Pasta? Maybe that's why I remember you talking to him when you were little, so he can reach you through me, aren't you afraid Pasta that he's reaching for you and you'll miss it, etc etc.

Now I was raised strongly christian. The whole shebang. Christian elementary school, church every Sunday, youth groups on Wednesday, radio set to a christian station, etc. I'd heard these lines, believed those lines, said those lines for a long time. And even though my family was chill (one reason I wound up feeling supported enough to leave the church as an adult), I'm still unpacking a lot of that trauma. And one bit is my inability to set boundaries. Girls and women must always be polite, kind, and nice no matter what. Respect your elders when they speak. You are to be the sacred little vessel of the light and always be ready and willing to explain and advocate your beliefs even if someone's being mean, don't walk away. If someone asks you to help with something you don't want to do, you do it anyway, because your happiness and comfort doesn't matter, you are meant to serve.

I mentioned this while chatting with a group of friends the other night - I told them about this woman who'd been targeting me, and the bad memories it brought up and the ensuing anxiety attack when a bunch of things stacked a few weeks ago. And one of my friends turned and looked at me and gently said, 'why haven't you unfriended her?'

And I... paused at that. Why? Why hadn't I? Because this woman didn't 'intend' to be mean? Because I wanted to try to 'represent' something? Because I used to know her? Because I was afraid to be judged as rude? Because... my comfort and happiness didn't matter? Why on earth hadn't I?

Because... my comfort and happiness does matter. And I was being disrespected. It doesn't matter if I'm seen as rude. I'm allowed to say, 'no, you don't get to treat me like that.'

I... am allowed to cut someone off, even if they find that mean.

Even if they knew me when I was little.

Even if they have positive intent.

I don't have to give those people access to me if they're hurting me and trying to scare me.

And so I got home, and I rolled through that old list, and I culled it. Out went the people who I got a sick feeling thinking about. Out went the people who'd never really respected me. Out went the people who saw me as a trophy they could win by 'bringing me back'.

I said no to all of that.

I can say no.

And I know that seems small. But it feels like a giant leap for me.

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 20

Part 19

There was no other way to describe it, Eddie thought as he literally watched Steve sitting under a tree with Robin, laughing at something she said. Spring had not only come to this land, but to the prince as well. Like a flower in bloom, he was open and inviting. And everyone longed to be like the sun, having that flower turn to face them. At least, that was the thought that crossed Eddie’s mind and surely everyone else felt the same way.

He teased the kids more, ruffling their hair, and even allowing himself to be the but of the joke at times. He and Robin turned out to be thick as thieves, which Eddie could have never predicted. All this because he had been allowed to roam the town.

Yesterday, Eddie happened to spy a hickey peeking from the top of Steve’s collar and could deny it no longer. He had found a lover. Steve had found a lover. Perhaps even more than one. After all, there was no reason to limit himself to just one. The fact remained though that someone was making him glow with their affections. 

Someone out there was kissing him, whispering sweet things in his ear, telling him how lovely he was-SNAP

Eddie looked down to the broken quill in his hand. 

“Something on your mind?”, Gareth asked, returning a book on one of his shelves.

Eddie wriggled his fingers and brushed the broken quill away, careful not to smudge what he had just been writing. “No. Nothing at all”, he lied. 

Gareth waited patiently for him to continue, knowing he would. In the meantime, he grabbed another book and sat on the other side of Eddie’s desk.

“Steve has been going out often, hasn’t he?”

“About every other night, yes. Are you regretting giving him that freedom?”

“Well…”, Eddie struggled for only a second to think of a reason. “What if Nancy’s right?” He pushed off from his desk and stood, going to the window behind him. Thankfully Nancy was in a neighboring town, otherwise he’d fear she would actually materialize out of thin air.

“About the prince conspiring with townsfolk?”

“Or a spy. Anyone really. We just don’t know.”

Gareth sighed. “Time to put on my ‘Nancy hat’. Why don’t you send someone to follow him and see?”

The last thing Eddie wanted to see was Steve actually in the middle of the deed. But going along just far enough to make sure no other liaisons were happening was just his duty as a king, wasn’t it? He had to protect his people. And if Steve was only just meeting lovers, well he should feel confident enough to bring them back to the castle to introduce to everyone, shouldn’t he? If they weren’t conspirators anyway.

Eddie found the resolution to do so just a few nights later. He and Robin were relaxing in a sitting room, sipping together after having sent the kids to bed a couple hours ago. That was when Steve came in and draped himself on the couch Robin was sitting on with a dreamy sigh.

“Let me guess”, she said. “The woodcarver’s son?”

“You know me a little too well for how short we’ve known each other”, Steve said, bringing his head to her lap.

Eddie was sitting on the couch opposite them, leg propped up on the armrest. He didn’t like the way Steve didn’t even seem to notice he was there.

“You’re late”, he said, sitting up.

Steve turned just his head to look at him. “I know, I’m sorry. But it’s not always easy to get away.”

Robin snorted. “You mean clean up takes forever?”

“Don’t be crass”, Steve scolded lightly. “And I’ll have you know, Jason is the perfect gentleman. He always helps me clean up afterward.”

Eddie knew of Jason, the son of a woodcarver. Diligent in his work, a leader among the youth in town. His face was…fine, Eddie had to admit. He certainly wasn’t plotting to take Eddie’s kingdom down, that was for sure. Born and raised here, Jason only stirred up trouble a couple of times the way kids typically did. He had no reason to mistrust him.

And yet…

As the night went on, Steve and Robin continued to talk about him. Apparently Jason first saw him at the festival when he competed in the games. They talked a lot about athletic pursuits. Wood carving wasn’t for the soft of hands after all. Robin asked about others Steve had met with. Faith, Gabriella, Harris, but it always came back to Jason. 

He must be Steve’s favorite. Which meant that Eddie had to see what the big deal was about. On top of all the other reasons he’d come up with before too, of course. Steve didn’t go out the next night or the one after. But the third night, he did and Eddie followed. He traveled in the shadows until they got to town, then shifted to a bird. His usual form would have been instantly recognizable at this point, so he went with a starling appearance tonight.

Steve tied his horse to a post and went into a tavern. Eddie perched on a window just long enough to see Steve immediately sit down with a young woman. So not Jason. He waited by the door for someone to go through and flew in, staying aloft in the rafters and close to the edges of the ceiling. He got right above their table to listen in. She seemed a sweet lady, but looks could be deceiving.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight”, Steve said. “I thought your family needed help at home this week?”

“I was able to get away”, she said. “Are you…disappointed?”

Steve reached out and touched her cheek. “How could I be when I am gifted with your presence?”

She melted in his touch and Eddie had seen enough. There was nothing shady going on, so he had no reason to stay. He went back home, but spent about an hour, pacing about in his room, trying to find explanation for why he was so agitated. Steve hadn’t lied. Hadn’t gone against them. Which meant he got to say ‘I told you so’ to Nancy when she got back. The night after that, Eddie sat down in his chair, ready for story time but was off most of the evening. El was the one to point it out.

“Why do you keep looking at the door? Are you expecting someone?”

“This late?”, Lucas asked.

“Yeah, you’ve been kind of twitchy all night”, Dustin added.

“No I haven’t, and it’s fine”, Eddie brushed them off. He knew it was because of Steve. If these kids knew, they wouldn’t stop until they got to the bottom of why. And Eddie wasn’t ready to face the why. 

It wasn’t until Robin spoke up later, once the children were sent off that he got the kick in the pants to find out the truth.

“They’re right you know. You were twitchy.”

“You know I can’t stand still for more than a minute”, Eddie said in his defense.

“Yeah, but this is different. It’s like…”, then she snapped her fingers. “How Mike gets when Will would rather spend time with Lucas.”

Eddie’s stomach dropped. They had been teasing Mike about his not so secret crush for a while now. To be compared to that…

The only way to prove he wasn’t jealous was to see Steve actually be with someone and have no problem with it, right? He had walked in on more than one of his servants entangled with each other. It was a big castle, places for secret rendezvous were numerous. He’d even happened on Dustin stealing a kiss from a girl in town once. He felt nothing when watching others share their affections. So Steve shouldn’t be any different. 

Eddie hadn’t disciplined Steve when he came back late, so he got more bold with his curfew. He always returned to lay his head in the castle, Eddie noticed, but he didn’t rush back as the sun set either. One day he left as the sun was dipping low, giving the last bits of light as he traveled on the path from here to town. 

Eddie followed, in his raven form this time as pitch black wings were better for camouflage in the night. And Steve may recognize this form, but even if he saw him, surely he wouldn’t put two and two together. There was more than one raven in the world, they couldn’t all be Eddie. When Steve dismounted, the tavern was just a quick stop. He tied the horse to a post and then went across the street. 

He watched the prince chat up a candlemaker, seemingly having just a nice conversation before leaving to go somewhere else. Eddie was about to follow when his bird’s eye view allowed him to see a child sitting in an alley, legs hugged to their chest. He flew down and pecked at their shoe to get their attention.

A nice shoe, not an orphan, probably just lost. The kid seemed down on themselves and after Eddie played around to get their spirits up (making funny bird noises, puffing his feathers up, tugging at their hair) he was able to lead them out of the alley. Feeling less hopeless, the child called out for their parents and Eddie helped to get attention by squawking from their shoulder.

A man ran up and scooped up the kid, grateful for having found him. Eddie took his leave then, but had unfortunately lost Steve. He knew he wasn’t at the pub, so his only lead was the woodcarver’s. That was where he flew and sure enough, when he perched on the roof, he heard something from behind it.

A soft sound, just a low ‘mmf’ that anyone else still on the street or in their homes wouldn’t be able to pick up. He walked across the roof and the posterior of the shop was lit by just a single lantern hung from a rung. He peered down, almost hanging upside down to see Steve, legs wrapped around Jason while he was sat upon some crates. Steve let out another quiet moan and Jason gave him a gentle shush.

“It’s the evening hour, you’ll wake everyone up if you’re too loud”, Jason smiled while continuing to thrust into him.

Steve pressed his lips together to keep from making too much noise. His eyes were unfocused as they looked up, suddenly gaining focus and gasping when he noticed the bird watching them. Eddie remained frozen. If he left now that he’d been spotted it would practically confirm his identity. Steve tightened his hold on Jason. His panting picked up as he got closer and Jason stuck two fingers into his mouth.

The prince groaned and for just a moment, Eddie imagined what wonders Steve was doing with his mouth. Was he simply sucking or did his tongue lick between the digits? Eddie knew he should leave, it was only decent. But Steve’s gaze kept him tethered to where he was. His eyes only closed when he started to cum, Jason pushing and pulling a few more times before he did as well. 

Steve was floating. Jason pulled his fingers out and wiped them on his shirt. He was saying something as Steve came back into himself but he wasn’t sure what. The bird had flown away.

Part 21

Taglist

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 

@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 

@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 

@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 

@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 

@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

[merriclo]

I want to know your LU headcanons!

ohHO i will absolutely tell you tysm for asking!! i’ve been wanting to talk abt them for ages but just never got around to it ig ahjdkcka

Time’s actually like 32 and is just really committed to the bit of being ancient

Sky is horrific at making new friends. he grew up with the same small group of people, so he never learned how to make friends with complete strangers because there simply wasn’t the need to. so, when he first starts traveling with the chain, he makes little wooden charms for them because he isn’t entirely sure how else to get close with them. Zelda always enjoyed his woodcarvings, so maybe they will too??

as a result, the entire chain has little trinkets made by Sky. on Legend’s bag there’s charms hanging off the straps, and Twilight wears his as necklaces (both because it looks cool as fuck and it helps the shadow crystal stand out less). yes Wind has specifically commissioned him to make something for Aryll

yeah yeah bunny Legend but consider: the mermaid suit (which I like to think is more of a curse bc get fished pink man <3) giving him some marine animal qualities as well. no matter what tho that bitch is an Ariel kinnie, they’re collecting all the shiny shit they can find

Sky is obsessed with doing puzzles the Right and Proper way, meanwhile Wild cheeses absolutely everything he can

Wind believes in all of those classic pirate superstitions

the witches in Legend’s era adore him. Grandma Syrup dotes on him, Maple is like a teasing older sister, and Irene is like a teasing younger sister. this is where he learned most of his magic skills from, and he takes all potentially enchanted or cursed items to them to check out. he’ll never admit it, but Legend finds lots of comfort in all of them, as they’re one of the few people who’ve stayed in his life this long.

Wild’s a pretty good medic!! during his adventure, he very quickly realized how dangerous infection is, so they learned about a lot of home remedies and medicinal herbs, as well as how to tend to a wound from other travelers at stables and inns. he didn’t really get a choice in learning, considering how he probably got stung or bit by painful insects or accidentally brushed up against painful plants a lot during the early days of their adventure, and thus showed up to stables covered in rashes and hives and such, causing every decent person in the area to flock to them and try to help. their Hyrule is very sweet, okay?

they’re not the only one who’s well acquainted with medicinal herbs, though! while I think all of them would have a basic understanding, Time, Hyrule, Warriors, and Wind would know a lot. dw i’m elaborating

Time quite literally grew up in the forest, was raised by a tree, and had actual forest spirits for siblings—he knows his plants. he and Saria would peel willow bark and collect dandelions together

I like to think that Hyrule being half-fae makes him very sensitive to all magic-based auras, including that of plants, so they’re very good at picking out the healing herbs, even if they’re not quite sure what they���re called

listen ok hear me out about Warriors. young Time was appalled that he knew jackshit about nature and forcefully taught him. also, before modern medicine, medicinal plants were used all the fucking time on the battle field. yarrow, an herb that stops bleeding and prevents infection, is called soldiers’ woundwort because of this. i mention this because he was probably concerned about the health and safety of his troops, so he learned what the medics were doing and using.

Wind grew up on a small, tight-knit island, realistically they would’ve had to have learned how to use the things around them to their fullest advantage. that being said, his knowledge is sort of useless outside of his own era, aside from what he was taught in the war. ok i’m done talking about medicinal herbs now i promise sorry it’s a hobby of mine ahhsjdka

Legend’s terrified of dogs. in Link’s Awakening, the dogs are literally balls on chains with huge mouths full of sharp teeth (basically just Chain Chomps). if you want to get angsty with it: it comes from guard dogs being sent after him on his first adventure. he became a lot less scared to more he spent time with BowBow (the ball and chain dog) but, when he woke up, he got the belief that he could only be safe around a dog in his dreams. he’s pretty damn uncomfortable around Wolfie at first, but after lots of time and learning to trust Twilight, he’s able to slowly overcome his fear. sort of. mostly just with Wolfie. he still hates staying at stables in Wild’s Hyrule.

if Wild doesn’t want to explain/source something he’ll just say it came to him via divine intervention. Sky believes it every single time

I was thinking about Legend’s story a while ago and realized it was kind of similar to Joan of Arc’s so take that as you will. idk if this even counts as a headcanon but i’m putting it here

Warriors and Twilight are really close friends because they both understand the struggles of wrangling dirt worshipping nature freaks. anytime Twilight (lovingly) complains about Wild, Wars will counter with whatever asinine feral child antics young Time got up to and suddenly Twi will feel very blessed and lucky

whenever Four sees someone with their hair in a high ponytail he subconsciously thinks they’re very smart and respectable because Dot always wears her hair in a high ponytail

Hyrule is completely fine with not sleeping on a bedroll. they like the dirt, actually. let them sleep in the dirt.

Legend uses apples in his red potions, both to increase their potency and to make them taste better. he also learned how to enchant apples to be healing on their own so sometimes when someone’s hurt he’ll just shove an apple in their face

uhh so ik this is a lot but this isn’t even close to of all my headcanons so yeah there’s that lmao

[bisonrimant]

Is it hard to learn woodcarving?

I don't think so. There is no complex technic. Try to carve a spatula, then a spoon. Once you manage to do this, and understand how to follow the wood grain, you have made a big step into woodcarving.

I have a few advice to help getting things easier :

- You need to block your piece to work safely and confortably. A vice or a hovering bench is a good friend.

- Always take a piece of wood with extra length so you can block it without damaging your sculpture and handle it

- To have a smooth result, use sanding paper starting by 80 then 120 etc up to 400. If the 80 one did't erase something you didn't want to see, you need to go back to your carving tools, 99% of the time it will stick arround if you don't.

- If you have no budget for many tools, it's better to have small knife that can get into detail

- A saw and a chisel can help you a lot to remove a large amount of unwanted matter

- If you can, use basswood. There are many good and beautiful woods that you can discover after, but basswood will suit beginers and advanced woodcarver as it is soft yet its wood grain is tight.

- Keep in mind that green wood will crack if you leave the heart, and will shrink. It's ok for training. But if you want something not to crack that you harvested yourself or collected from pruner, let this dry at the very least 6 month. It will crack on the edges by few inches. One it's dry, and this part remove it will be ok.

- You don't really need to know how to draw. You need to try to see geometric forms that compose your subject. Even if you don't know how to draw, make drafts for the face et one side. It's ok if its bad, it will help you nonetheless.

- Search a lot of references on the internet. Try to find the little details that makes your subject what it is. You can also use sketchfab that as a lot of 3D models.

- Don't expose wood to big temperature changes. The difference of humidity can creates cracks.

- I put half turpentine and half lin oil mixed together to protect my pieces. Grape seed oil alone for kitchen stuff.

I don't have anything that's crosses my mind for now. Let me kow if you try woodcarving !

[disciplesofthelamb]

"Greetings, fellow loyal cultists, as many of you already know, our great leader, The Lamb, has been very busy. But do not fret, I, Silas, have been left in charge as their loyal disciple-"

"Correction, WE were left in charge."

"Have some manners Briar, I am speaking."

"No, because you always do this! Why are you acting like you're better than us?!"

"AHEM, anyway... Like our dear friend Silas was saying, we were left in charge in the case of our leader being unavailable, so we will be happy to answer any queries you may have!"

"Thank you all for your attention, have a blessed day. Remember to praise The Lamb!"

WARNINGS

✮ This blog may depict sensitive topics, viewer discretion is advised.

✮ This blog is a work in progress, things are subject to change.

[About the characters under the cut!]

ABOUT THE CHARACTERS

[Silas, Briar and Dotty are my own cult of the lamb ocs! Here are a few things about them:

✭ Briar (She/Her) : A rescue from Anura, she was found by the lamb along with Dotty in the ruins of their old village. She became a disciple becase she complimented the lamb when they were having a bad day and just happened to be level X.

Likes: Painting, Anything pumpkin-flavored, Rain, Napping, Woodcarving, Watching the sunrise, Stuffed animals, Jewelry, Dotty.

Misc info: Tries to avoid conflict, but she always feels the need to have the last word. Prefers to stay indoors. She just wants some peace and quiet frfr. Veryy argumentative, if highschool was a thing in cotl she'd be in the debate club. Short temper, she won't yell at you but she gets irritated fast and will ignore you for the rest of the day.

Follower traits: Zealous, Ascetic

Pinterest board:

✭ Dotty (Any pronouns) : A rescue from Anura, she was found by the lamb along with Briar in the ruins of their old village. She became a disciple because she refused to work without Briar.

Likes: Walks in the forest, Bugs, Berries, Arts and crafts, Foraging, Sewing, Strawberry jam, Diced apples, Stuffed animals, Briar.

Misc info: She has like a billion hobbies and she loves all of them. Can't sit still for more than 5 minutes. Collects rocks. She will make you a friendship bracelet a day after meeting you. Silas thinks that he's the favorite disciple but it's actually Dotty. Addresses people by pet names when she can't remember their name.

Follower traits: Unrepentant, Strong Constitution

Pinterest board:

✭ Silas (He/him) : A rescue from Darkwood, he was found as he was about to be sacrificed, after his rescue he swore to devote himself to the lamb for the rest of his days, yet he was the first to dissent when faith got too low. He became a disciple because the lamb "Thought he was cute."

Likes: Formal clothing, Journaling, "Research" (reading YA romance novels), Tea, Writing, Scented candles, Silver jewelry, Fountain pens.

Misc info: Professional mansplainer. Chronically jealous. Calls himself a "hopeless romantic" but his standards are too high to actually date someone. He'll tell you that he likes old literature but if you ask for recommendations he won't have any. Thinks he's hot shit because he's a disciple but in reality he's just a glorified errand boy. Brags about being the lamb's favorite because they said it once. Thinks that writing shitty love poems is peak romance. Knows how to play chess, but he sucks at it. Cares a lot about his appearance, he will spend 3 hours to get ready before going out. Even though he's supposed to make deliveries for the lamb, he only does it whenever it's convenient for him.

Follower traits: Germaphobe, Materialistic, Poet

Pinterest board:

✮ Additional info: Briar is a weasel, Silas is a striped hyena, and Dotty is a raccon.

Silas is the oldest of the group, he joined the cult before the other two.

Briar and Dotty are dating, they have been since before The Lamb indoctrinated them.]

ROLEPLAY INFO

"Briar speaks like this."

"Dotty speaks like this."

"Silas speaks like this."

Actions look like this.

[Moderator speaks like this.]

OTHER BLOGS

@askacultleader (My other blog!) and @no-less-than-a-lambgod As our glorious leader

@ask-theredcrown As our Lord, The One Who Waits

@ask-thegreencrown and @he-ofhavoc As Leshy

@askthe-yellowcrown As Heket

@ask-thebluecrown As Kallamar

@ask-thepurplecrown As Shamura

@ask-thepurplecrownbearer As The Goat

Mortals/Miscellaneous entities

@askthe-littlepoet As... Who's this one again?

@the-sleepydragon As Imora

@tomb-the-god As Tomb

@keni-the-moth As Keni & Candy

@the-followers-of-them As other cultists!

@helob-the-spider As Helob

@terrorofthetarots As Clauneck

@ask-kudaai-the-weaponsmith As Kudaai

@ask-thefox As The Fox

@follower-of-the-old-faith As Ratau

[Hello everyoneeeee it's me Zip again, I made another blog :3

This is purely to indulge myself because these guys have been infecting my brain for a while now.

If I forgot to add you in my pinned post or if you would like to be removed please tell me!!]

[sae-mian]

Nira’sae Mian

Nicknames: ‘Sae, Nira Age: 29 Birthday: 12/29 Race: Viera (veena), formerly Miqo’te (keeper) Gender: NB, accepts neutral/masc pronouns Orientation: Confused ™️ (but more accurately demi) Profession: Warrior of Light, adventurer, guest lecturer (at the stadium. like. once.)

Physical Aspects

Hair: Grey with white tips (and a few white streaks); relatively short - longer at the front, more cropped in the back; wavy and silk-soft; (usually) partially tied on one side. Eyes: Charcoal grey with very subtle hints of dark blue. Skin: Pale as fuck. Tattoos/scars: White freckles. Large, uneven scar wrapped around their right side (from about navel to spine), intersecting with another smaller scar on their back; entry and exit scarring on their left side (just beneath the ribs); third scar between neck and shoulder. Aether channels are visible beneath the skin by their shoulderblades.

Family

Parents: Nira Mian (mother), Iian’a Hak (father). Both Keepers from Mazlaya. Both deceased. Siblings: None (?). Grandparents: Unknown. Other/partners: Minasha Taan, their independent retainer and partner; G’raha Tia, partner.

Skills

Abilities: S-Tier white mage and bard. A-tier dancer. Excells at aether manipulation with the medical knowledge to heal even the most complicated injuries. Exceptional aim with most projectile-based weapons, but especially longbows & harp-bows. Hobbies: Botany, textiles, woodcarving & music (singing & playing, particularly string based instruments).

Traits

Positive: Kind to a fault. Always eager to help. Gentle. Has a sense of humour and a quick wit (sometimes). Fiercely loyal once bonded. Negative: Anxious. Doesn’t look after themself. Known to speak without thinking.

Likes

Colours: Blues and greens. Has a quiet fondness for red. Smells: Tea & coffee, wet grass, sea-side air. Textures: Everything. All of it. Idiot wants to touch everything. Drinks: Black and herbal teas. Soft-spot for matcha (and a weakness for overly sweet milktea).

Other Details

Smokes: N/A Drinks: VERY rarely. Known lightweight. Drugs: N/A (has a bit of a fear of Substances) Mount Issuance: Twin Adder issued chocobo named Pavement (has been known to summon/ride other unlicenced mounts). Been Arrested: A few times. Including very recently.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

tagged by: @azems-familiar (I'M SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO GET TO OTL)

tagging: @humblemooncat, @lilvulpix-alex, @bnuuywol, @imyour-marigold, @abstinencesupreme & anyone else that's been wanting to do it!

[arecaceae175]

Hi I'm sorry if this is random but do you have any LU Sky headcanons that you like and would like to share? No pressure if you don't want to ! (/genuine)

YES HI HELLO I ALWAYS WANT TO DO THIS!!!! :DDD

I have two other asks in my ask box about LU Sky headcanons that I am saving for when I come up with more headcanons (from @taddy-cat and @majorproblems77 hehe).

In no particular order here are some of my favorite Linked Universe Sky headcanons:

He is bisexual and polyamorous and in a relationship with Groose and Zelda!! They're all dating each other. Groose is also bi, demisexual, and poly, and Zelda is onmisexual and poly. I love them your honor. Groozelink my absolute beloved.

When I feel like letting Sky be trans, I enjoy having him be bigender (man and woman) and use he/she pronouns interchangeably.

I like calling his Loftwing Crimson. They're best friends. They like to go exploring together!!!

Sky's mother died when he was too young to remember her. Sky's father was a knight and Sky inherited his love for flight tricks! Before Sky and Crimson were old enough to fly on their own, Sky would ride with his dad and they would do awesome tricks. After Sky's parents died, he was kind of collectively raised by Skyloft, which is why no one is surprised to see him just show up and use their beds in the game. He lived with Zelda's family before he was old enough to live in the Knight Academy, and he also spent a lot of time at Pip's family's house.

I Imagine the Sky islands are much larger and much more expansive than we see in the game. Skyloft is the biggest Island and the capitol, kind of, and there are a lot more islands with people living on them.

Chronic illness Sky my beloved. I enjoy seeing him with any disabilities, but I am partial to POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome). It would explain his low stamina and chronic fatigue and sitting to regenerate hearts :). And there's a whole lot of other symptoms involved too. The heartbreaking part about this though is as the condition progresses he would gradually lose the ability to fly with Crimson. The forces and the erratic movement would make him pass out and that is super very dangerous to do on a bird. I'm going to write a fic about this one day

Autism. Yeah. Sky has a Loftwing plush that's his comfort item and he brings it everywhere. He gets VERY easily overwhelmed on the Surface because there just so much stuff. The first time he went down to the Surface he pretty much immediately had a meltdown and Fi had to guide him to a safe place for it. When he's either overstimulated or understimulated and needs noise he tugs on his ears. Sometimes he accidentally scratches them and makes them bleed. He's used to the constant noise of wind in the sky, so on the surface when he doesn't have that and hears all the small sounds of nature he gets very stressed and shuts down a lot. His happy stims are flapping his hands or flapping his arms like a Loftwing!

He loves art and crafts!!! Woodcarving is the easiest to do on adventures, but he also likes painting and coloring. If he lived in modern times he would have so many coloring books.

Sky is squeamish :( Sometimes when he got injured during his adventure he would just. Pass out. Or if he stayed awake and had to deal with the injury there was a lot of crying and vomiting involved. Poor guy.

He thinks in statistics now, even after Fi is gone. It's comforting to him. <3 He misses her so much

He's the best swordsman of the chain. Sometimes he goes fucking feral and the rest of them are like o.o and it's awesome. He killed a god, he deserves to go bonkers mode as a treat. But after he does that he WILL need 2-4 business days to recover

HE LIKES BUGS!!! He and Wild and Twilight go and collect bugs together sometimes and its adorable.

Sky is claustrophobic! It causes a lot of problems. I've got a claustraphobia Sky fic rattling around in my brain rn :)

Sky is the heaviest member of the chain. He is not the tallest (Time) or the most muscular (Twilight). He is relatively tall and strong, but he's also fat and I love that for him. Skyloftians naturally have more bodyfat to stay warm, but even by their standards Sky is big. (Fat is not a bad word <3). Draw him fat and I will love you forever <3

Hmmmmmm that's all I can think of right now!!! I have an easier time answering asks about specific questions than I do general ones, so if anyone has any specific headcanon questions I will answer those much more quickly than the abstract ones (which i still love and appreciate) that have been sitting in my ask box for months lol (it's an autism thing).

BUT YEAH I love Sky. Thank you so much for this ask. You caught me in the right mood to ramble about him hehehehe <3. SKY

[minaturefics]

Sweet Summers

Request: I’m happy to hear your requests are open! Your writing is incredible! ^^ I have a Legolas x human!reader request if that’s okay. ^^’ One that takes place in between the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings when Legolas traveled with Aragorn after leaving Mirkwood- Legolas and Aragorn stop to stay at a village during a summer festival, Legolas’ first time being at a celebration outside of Mirkwood. During the festival, he sees Reader dancing along with the music and they spend time together before Legolas leaves with Aragorn. Times passes and during the celebration of winning the war, he once again sees Reader dancing to the live music.

A/N: Helllooooooo! Sorry this took like three months but it's here now! First one back since I've been on holiday so I feel a bit rusty but hopefully it's still enjoyable, even after such a long wait. Thank you for your patience! (also idk how it ended up so long but here we are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Legolas x Reader

Gender-neutral reader

No content warnings

5k words

---

You wandered into the village square, taking in the merry scene before you. The entire square was alight with torches and lanterns, and colourful bunting was strung up between the posts. A quartet of musicians were setting up off to the side, and shopkeepers arranged their wares on the tables on the edges of the square. The night was warm and balmy, and the smell of roasted meat and sweet baked goods wafted around the village. 

You nodded at the people you passed and dodged the squealing children running around. You paused by one of the stands, surveying the assortment of desserts. Creamy cheesecake and glistening fruit tarts, sugar coated funnel cakes and raisin biscuits. 

“Do you want any of them, sweetheart?” Dera asked with a grin, her wrinkled eyes sparkled with mirth. “I’ll even throw in some gossip for free.”

“Perhaps a funnel cake,” you said, and placed a couple of coins on the table. She handed it over to you and you took a bite. It was still warm, the sugar melting on your tongue, and you hummed in appreciation. “Now what news do you have?”

“A couple of outsiders wandered into the village today. An elf and a man, they said, staying at the inn.”

A man was not anything novel. Men wandered through the village frequently, stopping by your village near the Merling Stream before continuing into Rohan or Gondor, but an elf was a rare thing. And a man and an elf together, rarer still. “Did they mention their business?”

She shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. “Just passin’ through, they said, but no one here believes that. They aren’t merchants, not with those bows and swords, and they don’t look like the beacon wardens. ”

“Will they be coming to the festival?” You took another bite of the funnel cake, licking the sugar from your lips. 

She shrugged. “I know some people are hopin’ they will. Mighty good looking, they are, ‘specially the elf.”

“Rich?” You smirked.

Dera laughed. “Always thinking about coin. There are other things in life.”

You glanced at your hands, eyeing the small nicks and scrapes that littered your fingers. Woodcarving had been a way to sustain yourself; it neither required you to toil in the fields or to fight the orcs and beasts in the wilds. You thought of the baskets of wooden figurines and dolls, the stacks of cutlery and bowls in your cottage.“Perhaps I should have set up a stall myself.”

“You work hard enough as it is, child. Tonight, we enjoy!” She shooed you with her hands. “Off you go, looks like they are ready to begin.”

The quartet struck up a merry tune, the rich sound of the fiddle dancing with the quick notes of the flute, and people began to flock to the centre. Dera nudged your shoulder and you joined the crowd gathering at the edges of the square. The beat of the drum resonated, amplified by the claps of the crowd, and you felt your feet tap in time. You watched the dancers, their smooth movements, their wide smiles. 

You thumbed the small carved deer in your pocket. Should you go and join them? It had been such a long time since you danced. 

The dancers began to link their hands together, pulling in members of the crowd. One of the girls, the daughter of the butcher, yanked on your arm and you spun into the fold. She held fast, flashing a grin at you, and the next person grasped your hand. There was no choice but to continue with them, kicking your legs in the fancy footwork pattern of the song and rotating with the pound of the drums.

Your eyes fluttered shut, trusting your feet and the pull of the dancers to lead you on. The flute trilled, the lyre harp fluttered. The cobblestones slipped under your feet and the breeze rushed through your hair. Your muscles burned a little and your breaths grew shorter. Laughter rose in your chest and burst from your lips. Round and round you went, until the song finished with a strong drum beat. 

Your eyes snapped open into a pair of soft brown eyes. 

You stepped back, chest heaving, and blinked at the man. He was tall and slim, and clad in a simple green tunic and trousers. 

“Apologies,” you said, “I must have lost myself in the music.”

He tipped his head to the side, a smile tugging on his lips. “It is a lovely sight, to see another so wholly lost in such a joy.”

His light blonde hair glowed golden in the lantern light, and your breath hitched at the sight of his pointed ears. An elf. The elf. Your heart sped up in your chest. The murmurs around you grew, and you could feel the eyes of others trailed on you. 

You gaped at him before shaking your head and offering him a small smile. “Are you… enjoying the summer festival, sir?”

“It is different to what I am used to but I am more curious than I am uncomfortable.” You chuckled at his honest words. “The music is more lively, the dancing more free in a way.”

The scent of something sweet in the air caught your attention and you thought of Dera. “Have you tried the food yet?”

He arched an eyebrow. “We supped at the inn before we came.”

You shook your head. “If you are to truly experience our summer festival, you must try Dera’s cakes.”

His eyes scanned the square. “And where may I find this Dera?”

“I shall lead you to her, I am in need of another sweet treat.”

You started off in the direction of Dera’s stall and the crowd parted, their eyes fixed on the elf behind you. The quartet started up again, the strum of the lyre harp echoing through the air, and the crowd’s attention drifted back to the dancing. You pressed the back of your hand to your cheeks, willing your heated skin to cool, and brushed a stray strand of hair away from your sticky forehead. 

Dera’s eyes lit up at the sight of you and the elf and she grinned at him. “Now what can I get you, sweetheart? First time at a summer festival?”

He gave her an easy smile and scanned her table. “What would you recommend? I am unfamiliar with some of the food of men.”

Dera pointed at the funnel cake and the berry tart. “These two are a good start. Where is your friend? First time at a festival and he left you on your own.”

“He has some business to attend to.” The elf counted some coins in his palm, inspecting the currency. “I believe this should be enough.”

Dera handed the treats over to him and smiled. “Well, since you are without a guide, I offer my young friend here.” 

Your eyes widened. “Dera—”

He smiled at you, eyes bright with delight. “Wonderful, I thank you very much. I am Legolas Greenleaf, though you may call me Legolas.” Dera introduced herself and you muttered your name at him. 

He glanced down at the treats in his hands and Dera took the opportunity to wink at you. “Well, no eatin’ in front of my stall young man. Go off then and find somewhere.”

He looked at you, waiting for you to speak, and you glanced at the couple weathered stone benches on the outskirts of the square. “We can sit there and not be disturbed. I do not think you appreciate the looks my village has given you so far.”

You started for the bench and he fell in step. “I am used to such looks. My companion and I, Aragorn, have been to other settlements before this.”

He sat down next to you and took a tentative bite of the tart. His brows drew together for a moment as he chewed, before his expression smoothed out. “This is quite delicious. What is this yellow cream?”

You chuckled. “It’s custard. Do elf folk not have custard?”

“No, or at least, not in such a manner. I shall have to speak to my father about this. I’m sure the kitchens would be able to imitate it.”

Your eyebrows rose. The kitchens? Why did he speak as though he was some high born? You took him in, his smooth unblemished skin, the cut of his jaw, the quality of the fabric of his tunic. He certainly didn’t look common, but perhaps even the lowest of elves had the air of nobility compared to men. How distant the elves seemed. There were always stories, of course, but how much truth was held in them?

“Legolas,” you said, and he looked up from his tart. “If I may, what is your homeland like? I have heard little of the realm of elves.”

“I hail from Mirkwood in the north. There it is green and lush, where the trees grow into each other and moss carpets the floor. The south of the forest has since fallen into shadow, but there are parts of it that remain untouched.”

You could picture it, the light streaming through the canopy, the rustle of life among the shrubs. “And what do you think of the land of men?”

He finished the tart and started on the funnel cake, humming in pleasure. Crystals of sugar clung to his lips, and your eyes lingered on the pale pink of them. “It is strange, but also wonderful. There seems to be a rush, almost an urgency about the way humans live. A fervour, perhaps, for life.”

You barked out a laugh and shook your head. “We do not have the luxury of immortality. We must make the most of our days while we can.”

A frown crossed his face. “But we have passed so many settlements where I see humans suffer. There is hunger and struggle, there is pain and conflict.”

“Yes, but there is also joy.” You gestured to the crowd at the square, tilting your head up to capture the melodious notes ringing in the air. “And we relish these moments, perhaps because of the very nature of our mortality.”

He considered your words, chewing. “I suppose if one could only eat a finite number of funnel cakes in one’s life, one would seek to savour each of them.”

You nodded. “And we humans have found excuses to celebrate with each other where we can. Birthdays and holidays, the beginning and end of each season. Maybe this is how we cope, to know that despite how short our lives are, we have mattered to another, that we have shared something beautiful together.”

He looked down at the remains of his funnel cake. “Even for something as simple as sharing the joy of a sweet treat?”

You laughed. “Especially for something like a sweet treat.”He finished the last of the cake and leaned back on his arms, staring out at the square with a content smile on his face. “Tell me stories of your kin. It is not everyday that I meet an elf.”

His brown eyes brightened and he nodded. He told you of their festival celebrating the stars, how they would sing and their voices would echo into the night, how the lakes would reflect the endless starlight. He told you about how he used to wander off as a child to explore the forest, how he would nestle himself between the great roots of a tree and feel the life humming under his touch. 

He looked young, but there was something so old about his words, longing and lingering, sighing and wistful, like the elders of the village. The clouds shifted, revealing the moon, and for a moment he was bathed in the silvery light. It outlined his handsome features, the long line of his limbs. Your heart sped up. And then it wrenched in your chest. 

This was only a moment in time, a fraction of his lifespan. You would remember him for the rest of your days, a glowing, glittering night in your memory, a dream, but he would most likely forget you.

“Are you alright, my friend?” Legolas tilted his head at you. “It seems you have gone somewhere else.”

“I was simply thinking it is a lovely night.”

“Indeed.” He smiled. “It was lucky that we were here tonight. My friend and I will have to leave the towns and cities for some time. I do not believe I shall encounter another festival any time soon.”

You shifted and the wooden deer in your pocket jabbed into your thigh. You felt for it in your pocket. “Would you… care for a souvenir of sorts? Something to remind yourself of tonight?”

He nodded slowly. “Though all the stalls are selling food.”

You offered the deer to him, the figurine small in your hand. He reached for it, his fingers brushing your palm, and your breath caught in your throat. Such smooth skin, warm and gentle. 

He held it to the light, turning it in his hand as his smile grew. “Did you carve this?”

“I did. I usually carry one or two of them, for the children.”

His eyes grew troubled for a moment. “I would hate to deprive a young one of such a charming thing.”

You shook your head. “I have others. Keep it, if you wish.”

He smiled at you, soft and slow. “You have my thanks. I shall treasure this.”

--

Legolas leaned back against the rough bark of the tree and stretched his legs out. The fire was little more than glowing charcoal and a few burning twigs. Aragron was asleep a few paces away, rolled up in his cloak and curled around himself. The browning leaves on the tree rustled as a cool breeze drifted through the small clearing. Somewhere an owl hooted. 

He pulled the carved deer you had given him from his pocket, twisting it in his hand. The low light caught the edges of your delicate strokes, picking out the texture of its fur. He imagined your hands working at the wood, dust covered and callused, careful and skilled. When your fingers had brushed his that evening a warmth had lingered on his skin. Elves always ran cooler than humans and it felt as though your touch had seared him. 

You had been so captivating in the blazing light of the lanterns, dancing with an abandon so foreign to him. It was as though the music was a part of you, moving through your limbs and lifting your heels. How wild, how beautiful. 

That night felt like some distant memory, some dream too far for him to grasp. He thought of your eyes, shimmering in the light of the moon, of your laugh, loud and joyous. He could picture you perfectly, the warm orange of the lanterns lighting half of your face, the cool light of the moon illuminating the other side. You reminded him of some of the old fables and tales, like some mythical being, caught between two worlds, a miracle of existence. 

And your words. They would not stop echoing in his mind. You were young, only a fraction of his lifespan, and yet there was something ancient about the way you spoke. He had always pitied humans for their short years but your words had made him wonder. Was he, an elf, missing out on some fundamental experience by being immortal?

That evening he was so close to asking you to… to wait for him, or something fanciful like that. A year or two while he went off with Aragorn, hunting the orcs, watching the Enemy. But a year or two was no mere ask for a human, whose life would sweep past them before they realised. He could not ask that of you,to rob you of a chance of finding another who could bring you happiness in those years.

The thought of another lacing their hands with you, drawing you close, made his heart clench. There might even be the chance that you had forgotten him. It was only an evening together, conversing to the backdrop of merry music. You must have had dozens of festivals in your life. It was probably nothing more than another to you. He was probably no more special than another passing traveller. He sighed and pocketed the deer.

Aragorn shifted and squinted over his shoulder. “Is anything the matter, my friend? I sense an unease in you.”

“Do men pity us elves?”

Aragorn considered the question, his eyes drifting to the weak fire. “I think that a great many of them envy your kind. Why do you ask?”

“I have always believed that no other could revere life as we do because of our endless life spans. But now I wonder if perhaps we do not fully understand life because of it. That perhaps we cannot comprehend it without death as a counterpoint.”

“Men and elves have different ways of life, and of celebrating it. It does not mean one is better than another.” Aragorn twisted to fully face Legolas. “What has brought such thoughts to your mind?”

“Someone at the summer festival.”

“That was over a year ago.” Aragorn arched his brow. “They must have been quite a person to weigh so heavily on you after such a time.”

Legolas nodded. “But I do not believe I shall see them again. The Enemy is growing stronger each day. I can feel it. I fear a great many battles are ahead of us.”

“That village by the river is not far off from our scouting route. We can pass through if you wish.”

“No,” he said, and closed his eyes. It would be better if he did not lay his eyes on you again. Better if he put you out of his mind. What good would it do to dwell on something beyond his grasp? “No. Our errand at hand cannot afford delay.”

--

You smoothed down your hair and tucked a carved robin into your pocket. Outside, people hurried past your modest shop front towards the upper circles of Minas Tirith. You swept your eyes over the counters and shelves, ensuring everything was arranged and prepared for the next morning, before stepping out and locking the door. The sweet scent of honeysuckle and lavender perfumed the city, wafting down from the blooming gardens in the higher circles. A distant drum beat above the excited chatter of the citizens and you joined the crowd headed towards the music. 

 The warm evening air, the faint leaping trills of the flute, the weight of a carving against your thigh. It brought back the memory of Legolas from two summers ago. His soft brown eyes, his barely there smile. Where was he now? Elves had descended upon the city in preparation for Aragorn’s coronation, but you were yet to see the flowing blonde locks that you thought of so frequently. 

Did he think of you? Did he even remember you? Perhaps you were just another human to him, fleeting, passing. Nothing interesting, nothing important.

You spared another glance behind at your shop. The last two years had been eventful. In the autumn after Legolas had left, a travelling noble had passed through your village. She had taken an immediate liking to your craft, had found your bowls and plates well made and your trinkets amusing. A short conversation and a full coin pouch later, she had convinced you to follow her back to Minas Tirith. The coin was better, and you had your own rooms above the shop, but the people of the city were more restrained than those in the country. Gone were the spontaneous village square dances, the casual shared dinners in someone’s home. 

A more comfortable life, but perhaps a more lonely one too.

The music grew louder as you approached and you peered through the heads of the crowd that formed where the market stalls usually were. A group of musicians played some jaunty tune and in the middle there were couples dancing. They whirled across the cobblestones, skirts fluttering and arms wheeling, eyes soft and smiles wide. 

How lovely it must be, to dance with another. To have warm arms encircle you, to have tender words muttered in your ear. You thought of Legolas’ gentle brown eyes and the low timbre voice. How many times have you twirled alone in your rooms, imagining his hand in yours and his lips on your temple? How many nights have you lain awake, revisiting the memory of him? 

You sighed and shook your head. The Enemy had been defeated and a new king was to be crowned — it was time to shake off the shadows and find some joy. 

The musicians changed their tune and more people began flocking to the centre. The dancers began linking arms with each other and forming small circles. You kicked up your heels and joined the closest group of people, a smile growing on your face. 

The rapid beat of the drums bounced off the high stone walls and the strum of the lute raced to follow it. With each flutter and trill of the flute, the song sped up, and heat rushed to your cheeks. You closed your eyes and tiled your head back, revelling in the harmonies of the harp. Your body moved on its own accord, feet shifting in well practised patterns and arms moving in sync with the others. 

The music reached a crescendo, the melody rising to a fever pitch, and you spun out of the circle. You swirled through the air on the tips of your toes, arms arcing in smooth motions. The last of the notes faded in the breeze and your eyes fluttered open. 

There, across the square, hemmed in by the crowd, stood Legolas. 

His lips were parted and his eyes were wide. Your feet faltered on the cobblestones and you stumbled. What was he doing here? How was it possible, after so much time, after so much death?

The crowd broke out into cheers and claps for the musicians, and dancers bowed and thanked each other. You glanced away from him, blinking rapidly and offering polite smiles to the people around you, your heart hammering in your chest. 

Would he want to see you? Speak to you? You straightened your clothes and smoothed down your hair. Valar, if you knew he was in the city you would have made more of an effort to look presentable. 

You looked up, but he was gone. 

You craned your neck, shuffling backwards out of the dancing space, looking for him as your chest tightened. Perhaps he did not wish to speak to you. Perhaps he did not even recognise you. You shook your head. You were just being ridiculous with your flights of fancies, with your daydreams and imaginings. He probably did not think of you once since that evening. 

Your back collided with something solid and you turned on your heels, apology ready to leap off your tongue. His brown eyes, as soft as you remembered, peered into your own. 

“Legolas,” you whispered, “I… Good evening, sir.”

A smile stretched across his face. “I did not think you remembered me.”

“I did not think you remembered me.”

“You are impossible to forget.” The music struck up again and he leaned closer to you. His scent filled the space around you. Woody and fresh, like a forest on a spring morning. “If it is not too much trouble, may I request your company for this evening?”

You blinked at him and your jaw worked. Another evening with Legolas?

His brows drew together and he took a small step back. “Unless… You are already in the company of another?”

You shook your head and his brow eased. “What would you wish to do?”

“There was a stall nearby selling funnel cakes I believe. If you have not eaten, perhaps we can find some sweet treats.”

You grinned before you could stop yourself and he tilted his head in the direction of the market stalls. Legolas located the dessert stall and inclined his head at the matronly lady behind the display. He handed her a few coins and she passed two warm funnel cakes to you.

He led you to one of the stone benches by a watchtower, away from the buzz of the crowd, and sat next to you. The sun was just dipping below the horizon and its rays painted the fields a warm orange. You tore off and popped a piece of the cake into your mouth. The cinnamon and sugar melted on your tongue and you sighed.

“It has been quite some time,” Legolas began, “How did you come to be in Minas Tirith?”

“My wares attracted a wealthy patron. I have a shop in one of the circles below this.”

“And has the city been to your liking?”

“It is certainly much more interesting than my little village but…” Your eyes drifted towards the mountain ranges in the distance. Beyond them, between dense trees and by the rushing river, your village still stood, unblemished by the war. “But I do long for the ease of familiarity, for the comfort of knowing another would be there should you need them.”

“Minas Tirith, while beautiful, can be a cold city. Away from the green of the forest, my companions have been a great comfort to me, and Aragorn —”

“King Aragorn?” You gaped at him. “You… You know him?” You blinked rapidly, words and gossip from the last few months filling your mind. The elf and the dwarf that accompanied the returned king to Mordor… The elf prince of Mirkwood… 

“Yes, he is one of my closest companions.”

Your body went cold. What were you thinking? He was a hero, a prince. And what were you? Some common carver, some unknown person. There would be no chance now, not even the slightest sliver of hope. It would be better just to stop before your heart runs away with itself. 

Your eyes lingered on his long eyelashes, how they almost appeared transparent in the setting sun, on the sharp edges of his cheekbone and jaw, on the pale column of his throat. Maybe you could be happy as his friend, simply watching from afar. A friend, yes, that would be better than nothing. But even then, he might be going away after the coronation, back to his towering trees and moss covered rocks. 

“Is something the matter?” Legolas asked, finishing the last bit of his funnel cake.

“I am just thinking that chance has favoured us for us to have met twice.”

“Yes, I had hoped…” He glanced away, eyes on the horizon. “I had hoped that we would meet again. And chance has been even more generous, for we now reside in the same city.”

“You are not returning to Mirkwood?”

A smile pulled at the corners of his lips, his voice growing tender. “No, I think I finally understand what you spoke of that evening, and I have found people I wish to share that… burning of life with.”

Your cheeks flushed. Your words had stayed with him since that evening? “I’m sure your companions will be happy to hear that.”

His eyes drifted back from the horizon to yours. His brown eyes had melted into a deep, warm amber in the orange light. His voice was low, tentative, when he spoke. “It is not just my companions who I wish to share my time with.” 

Did he mean you? You blinked at him, jaw working. 

“I am aware we are not closely acquainted,” he murmured, brows drawing together. “But it is just I have thought of little else, of no one else, but you since that evening.”

Was it truly possible? That he could return even a fraction of what you felt for him?

“Forgive me,” he whispered, glancing away. “If I have upset you with my words. I am still learning the ways of men.”

“No, no,” you said, heart swooping in your chest. “I have thought of you frequently since that night. Wondering, hoping.” He turned to face you and you reached out for his hand on the bench. 

Your trembling fingers curled around his. His hand was cool, nearly as cool as the stone beneath it, and his skin was impossibly smooth. A quiet sigh escaped his lips and he smiled. His thumb caressed your knuckles before he lifted your hand to press a kiss to your fingers. His lips were warm and soft, his breath featherlike on the back of your hand.

“I find your hands captivating,” he admitted, running his fingers over your calluses. 

“Do you not think them rough and unrefined?”

“They show character, of your time spent on something you love, of your cleverness and skill. Elves do not develop such marks, no matter how many years we devote ourselves to something.”

You eyed the hardened patches on your skin. “Yes, I suppose they have created some beautiful things.”

“I must confess a small terrible thing to you,” he said, a rueful smile on his face. “I lost the carved deer you gifted me with. We were beset by orcs while tracking our kidnapped friends. It must have fallen out of my pocket in the fight.”

Your heart clenched at the thought of him keeping your carving with him since that night? “It is no matter,” you said, smiling. “I can carve you another one.”

“You would give me such a gift again?”

“I would carve you one every summer should you wish it.”

“I would wish for nothing more than your company every summer.” 

“Only in the summer?” You laughed, squeezing his fingers.

“Every season,” he said, voice low as he leaned closer. His lips brushed your temple and your eyes fluttered shut. “For as many as you are willing to give.”

“All of them,” you muttered. “As many as I have to give.”

[solei-eclipse]

wait . would solauri have a better chance as working out more romantically in the modern au . ?

( i would say maybe since the age gap isn’t so big and auri isn’t a total sociopathic freak . . if you think so too, id love to hear any silly little headcanons lol . )

( no im not doing this because im stressed about round 1 and really don’t want cirrus or azure to die what are you talking about haha ahaha . . ( sobs quietly in nonexistent corner with face in hands ) )

SOCIOPATHIC FREAK 😭 go easy on her now

I think it would definitely work out better than in the ALNSTverse for the reasons you mentioned but also because solei wouldn't be as stressed and people don't have to fight for their goddamn lives anymore!!!

Some thoughts!!!

Solei's first ever interaction with Auri in the park would be about pokemon. I'm so sorry. They're a loser who loves animals and biology and life so naturally. Pokemon nerd. When little Auri was in the park little Solei came up to them and showed her their pokemon cards. When they walked her home they gave Auri one of their cards: a Seel! (Also I take back what I said about them being 2 or 3 during their first meeting. I realize I was barely able to form any cohesive thought at that age so. I imagine they'd be 4 or 5 instead like what you originally suggested!)

Solei would knock on Auri's door everyday and ask Cas or Nyx if she could come out and play. Since Solei knows where she lives from when they walked together that day.

I'd imagine there weren't many people in the neighbourhood yet by the time Solei moved in (since you suggested the idea that Solei was one of the first). Since there weren't any other kids their age to play with, they stuck to each other pretty fast.

From the point on it was like glue!! Once Solei was old enough to ride a bike they'd visit Auri's every morning to head to school together (sorry I keep mixing the ALNST highschool AU together with the modern au but like. They would go to school right? Correct me if I'm wrong)

I hc they have a lot of matching clothes (matching sweaters, socks, shirts, etc)

Auri was a good star student but Solei was just around average, maybe even dropping below that at certain points. Maybe Auri would tutor them sometimes? (Ivan moment lol)

Auri likes to mess with Solei's hair and put it in ties and clips and stuff (based on one of your very first solauri doodles)! She's pretty good at it, but sometimes she'll do Lei's hair up really weird and stupid if she's feeling cheeky. Solei always keeps that hairstyle for the rest of the day no matter how stupid it looks.

Solei likes to woodcarve things for Auri all the time. It's kind of shitty and blocky and unrecognizable at first though so I don't know if Auri would keep it lol

Physical touch!! Auri likes physical touch, Lei is warm and loves warmth so they're happy with it! If they lie on the floor and Auri drapes herself on them horizontally (they'd be making a plus sign shape basically) then Solei would use their hands to play drums on her back. You know like. patpatpatpatpatpatpat. complete with cymbal sound effect. Because they're a loser.

Auri dresses in nice clothes most of the time (I think, usually in rock's sketches she's wearing pretty dresses) and in contrast to that Solei's fashion sense is just. Pajamas. Not joking they'd literally show up to places in their pajamas. Easygoing but at what cost.

When they do decide to change into something more appropriate, it still carries the vibe of pajamas. They like loose and comfortable clothing, stuff like big sweaters with wide open collars and soft baggy pants. Even their school uniform carries this carefree vibe since they forego the blazer and just wear the white button-up (that isn't even completely buttoned. Imagine till's school uniform with the orange undershirt, that's basically Solei). I'd imagine Aurien would be more clean and put together? Though maybe Solei would encourage her to loosen up and do whatever makes her comfortable.

Solei is (suprisingly) popular? They have a lot of friends at school. Definitely the type to say "okay I'm going now bye guys!" and then spend another 10 minutes yapping with others. Very "mom can we go home now" vibes from Aurien during this time.

If Aurien was feeling upset about something, Solei would take her someplace quiet and encourage her to tell them about it. They'd always make sure to carry something nice in their pocket to suprise her afterward, like candy or another wood carving or a flower they found.

Auri does her homework on her room desk and when she turns around to look at her bed solei has materialized out of nowhere to sleep on it. you know. instead of doing homework

When they're older, Solei would work at a zoo/animal shelter and would text Auri pictures of animals that reminded them of her

They would probably also have each other as profile pictures

I do apologize for this fact, I know it's an excruciating and annoying character trope, but solei is in fact a dense bastard. I'm so sorry. they'd have no idea. stay strong auri

[gonedreaminggg]

ITS TIME ITS TIME

my unhinged laurance zvahl headcanons 🫠

- Laurance has a BUNCH of ear piercings. Candenza made him swear not to get any facial piercings, and she's one of the only people he listens to. He did get a belly button piercing to spite her tho :)

- He has a lot of nervous ticks. He used to play with his hair when it was long, but when Cadenza cut it, he started cracking his knuckles and picking at his nailbeds. When Aphmau notices him doing this, she lets him play with her hair.

- GARRANCEMAU. POLYCULE. It was kind of unspoken for a while, and then Garroth got left behind in the Irene Dimension. So, Laurance and Aph got really close. However, nothing was official so she got with Aaron. Laurance and Garroth only ever realized after he had died. Garroth understood, he knew that the polycule wasn't too serious. However, Laurance on the other hand, didn't understand that. Plus, he was dealing with the calling and whatnot. There was a rift in the relationship for a while after that.

- All of the kids in the village love Laurance. I mean, we know he was one of Malachai's biggest role models, and Laur had also grown attached to him. But, he also kinda becomes Naoki (Nekoette but less problematic) and Dmitri's babysitter. He's always been good with kids, but MY IRENE he cannot handle Naoki. Leona also likes to hang around him, as well.

- Laurance used to have a fascination with fire when he was little. (i mean the man has adhd and u know how we r with fire.) He would stare at it for hours. It was the only thing that really calmed his brain. But now, he can't stand it. He can stay near a fire for warmth of course, but he's never the one to start or feed it. He can't look at it anymore. Too many memories. The fire is literally a part of him now. His new body was forged from it. There's no need to stare into the flames. He just has to look in the mirror.

- He's still blind, somewhat. His eyesight wasn't miraculously healed. He has to wash his face in the fountain of Lady Irene every so often, or his vision will completely blur. Even then, there's still spots that never go away, mostly on the outer field of his vision. He has reading glasses, as well.

- He's very physically affectionate. He plays with Aphmau's hair. He grazes over Garroth's hands constantly, running his thumb on all the marks in his palm or his scarred knuckles. When he was younger, he would always find something to fiddle with on Cadenza's clothes.

- He would model for Cadenza a lot. Before becoming a Shadow Knight, he was very comfortable in his body and his masculinity, so playing dress up was honestly very fun.

- Laurance always has to do something with his hands, so he takes up a lot of different crafts. Tying knots, woodcarving (thank you @xerith-42 for that one lmao), making jewelry. (In my hc my OC taught him how to make jewelry, but we don't have to get into that now haha)

- Laurance has Brazilian heritage, and even though he was an orphan, there's a large Brazilian population in Meteli and he was raised around the culture. Hayden kept Laurance very informed on his roots, and in turn Cadenza got to experience all of this as well. (I wanna go into this further at some point but I want to do the proper research first.)

- Since SKs don't need as much sleep, most nights Laurance just wanders Phoenix Drop. That's why he's usually the first to know when something's wrong.

- Before Laurance became an official guard, he was sort of a... vigilante. Bringing justice in the dead of night type beat. When he was younger, in his early teens, there was a high crime rate in Meteli. So, if Laurance saw someone stealing, or trying to break in somewhere, he'd tie them up and leave them outside the guard station for the authorities to deal with them.

Alright have fun with this one crazies

[nikikikiko]

jumping rq on the afk arena found family ever (gavus, eugene and their kids) but ive been brainrotting and well i have some headcanons:

• Liberta and Lucilla did not come out of everything entirely unscathed emotionally and mentally. 10 years and becoming generals at young ages did not do them well.

• Likewise, it is a very real fear of Eugene AND Gavus that they’ll go to sleep one day and wake up right back in their respective prisons, alone.

• So the four tend to have some nights where they all just stay up instead of sleeping (much to the detriment of Gavus who wants his children to have healthy sleep habits) , typically nights like these are spent in each other’s company as a physical reminder that the bad is over now

• Lucilla tends to get overprotective at times of her brother and her fathers, because she doesn’t want to be separated from them ever again. This trait made itself especially well known when she and Liberta defected from the Hypogeans and Celestials, but has since calmed down.

• Liberta is semi verbal, because some days he can’t bring himself to speak.

• Eugene handles a lot of the practical advice side of parenting whereas Gavus handles a lot of comfort.

• Of the two fathers, Gavus is the one holding a more strict grudge against the Celestials and Hypogeans than Eugene is. This is mainly due to Gavus being overly protective and hard to let things go, which makes one realize where Lucilla got it from.

• During their time with the Celestials and Hypogeans, Liberta and Lucilla were treated oddly. Lucilla was trained only ever in the art of combat, she had a lot of friends but she wasn’t being given much formal education due to that not being her purpose. Her status as a weapon, as Dusk, made it so that nothing else mattered much except her combat prowess and destructive power so she could turn the war in favor of the Hypogeans.

• Liberta on the otherhand was educated academically but only ever with Celestial morals scattered everywhere as they didn’t want to repeat Gavus’s defection. However, he was not given proper treatment among Celestials and his feelings were often not taken into account on any decisions, as he was a weapon, Dawn, and weapons followed orders.

• These things do not go away so easily, and right after they left the two divine factions, they got into it a lot because they struggled to reconnect initially. It took some time and good ol bonding while looking for their dads to get them both as close as they are now.

• But even then, they still struggle sometimes. Lucilla struggles with learning how to not utilize violence to solve every problem she has with someone, whereas Liberta struggles to stand firm to his feelings rather than writing them off for the wishes of someone else.

• Gavus upon learning any of this found himself feeling absolutely Livid inside but inhale exhale his kids need their fathers right now

• And that’s not to say Eugene wasn’t angry either, but his rage was very much turned into energy and determination to make sure nothing would ever hurt his family ever again.

• Liberta is still just as eepy as he was when he was a kid. He naps anywhere at any time. Lucilla will draw on his face from time to time, Gavus will put a blanket over him, and Eugene just straight up carries Liberta to his bed.

• Lucilla can be best described as “what if I eat that” and she’ll always try to eat it. She has eaten candle wax, cardboard, a leaf, grass, paper, etc. and it is all due to curiosity, she never eats the same thing twice if its not edible or good tasting.

• Eugene very much bullies Lucilla in the same way a parent will lovingly bully their child. He makes fun of her but he’s always among the first to support her too. Eugene has been trying to help her focus violent tendencies into crafting instead, noting that it’s easier to destroy but more fulfilling to make. He has since received many a lopsided woodcarving of what could be a bear but might be a duck.

• Gavus is similar but he indulges Lucilla’s antics as long as nobody’s hurt. He also reads really bad YA romance novels with her, like Twilight levels of bad, and they’ll talk shit about it together. Lucilla isn’t one to be too involved with it but sometimes the plots get so wild and out of control it sends Gavus into a frustrated rant and sends Lucilla into orbit with how hilariously passionate her dad gets over stupid crappy romance books.

• On the flipside, Eugene definitely teases Liberta but he’s much softer with him since Liberta is a bit more sensitive than Lucilla is. He and Liberta share a love for puzzles and cool gadgets, if they go into the market and have some extra money, you can bet your everything that they’re going to go off looking for another cool and fun thing to bring home.

• Meanwhile Gavus and Liberta tend to cook together !! Since Eugene has been banned for abuse of spices and seasoning causing one too many dinners to be over seasoned or over spiced, Liberta has taken up the role as co-chief for Gavus and they use that time to talk about interesting things.

• Family Game nights but instead of games its debate nights where they take a topic and they just debate over why they’re right abt it. Yk like what kind of chair is better or whatnot. Sometimes they’ll do teams and sometimes it’s every man for themselves.