Sorry if anything sounds weird, English isn't my first language. But could you write a Farah x reader that gets flustered quickly?
Also, mentioned that you had a moth demon OC in the tags of one of your posts, she sounds cool! Could you show her? If you can't no worries 🫶
Hey! Don't worry about your English, it's fine ^^ And yeah, I do have a moth demon OC! Her name is Arya and I love her dearly! The one above is a picture of her in her human form drawn by Castawolf on Etsy and the picture below is one I drew when I was 17 or so! I never said I was an artist, I can't draw at all, so that was the best I could do back then! She'd be beige and a lot more fluffy, though :3 She was kind of inspired the the Radiant from Hollow Knight! Useless trivia, I know, but I just get so excited whenever I get to talk about her!!
Farah with a Reader who gets Flustered Easily
Farah would have a field day with you from time to time. While she won’t go out of her way to fluster you each time, she sometimes will do so. It’s just too cute, the way you go quiet, stumble over your words or fumble around a bit. Yes, she knows that she has to maintain the trust between the two of you, and thus she shouldn’t be playing around with you too much, but come on! It’s so much fun! Sometimes she just has to tease you about it as well and watch you get defensive over your behaviors. It’s all just too endearing to her. Sometimes Farah will stand closer to you than necessary, touch you a bit more than needed, like holding your face in her hands when you won’t stop looking away from her, or just straight up compliments whatever it is you’re doing. If you’re especially close, then she might just give you a kiss to your cheek to watch you hide behind your burger, for example. While she may not be the most cuddle-seeking person out there, she’ll offer you more hugs than usual, if just to watch you freeze up and go speechless. However, only she is allowed to fluster you like that, anyone else needs to grow up and leave you alone. Anyone else could be malevolent and tease you the wrong way. No, she can’t have that. If you’re flustered because of someone else, then Farah won’t take too kindly to it. You’re hers to fluster and no one else. This may or may not be because of the crush she has on you, but she would never admit to such a thing. As far as you’re both concerned she just likes to tease you. But never too harshly, she doesn’t want to see you cry either. Will tone it down a bit if it’s obvious you’ve become uncomfortable and apologize, but it will happen again, I can assure you of that.
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Absolutely NO ONE could have been able to prepare Linn for one of Kid's infamous birthday parties. She was very aware of there being lots of drinks; finding herself too indulging in one or other intoxicating liquor, however, was not on her list tonight. And all after telling herself she will be responsible and stay sober. Oh well. That was something the mink was promising hours ago. Time really was fleeting. Her little fluffy head is fogged up, waddling clumsily around the table and trying to maneuver her feet towards the birthday boy in question.
❝ CAPTAAAAAIN ! How arr yoo doin' ? ❞ Her rough tongue brings out only slurred words, accompanied by happily narrowed eyes. Bloodshot already. Patting her captain's broad shoulder with a prideful purr, Linn managed to position a finely wrapped box, not even small, onto the redhead's lap. ❝ A li'l somethin' frum the ship's kidden, y'know ? ❞ An embarrassing giggle, which most likely will be a weapon of teasing tomorrow.
Knowing her captain oh so well, the feline got her hands on a starter kit for wood and metal work. Something you would not gift a grown adult, rather a child between six and ten years old. He liked tinkering, right ? Maybe the shopkeeper misread her description of searching for a present for a tech fanatic 'kid' wrong. Unfortunate name his mother picked for him in that case.
❝ C'mon on now. Open it. Open ~ . . . ❞ Idly 'holding' his drink, taking a sip juuust to make sure it was not poisoned, and soon having trouble gulping down the burning liquid, a sharp breath. The cat lounges against his arm, eyes fixed on the box. He must like it. ❝ Fffuck whad the hell arr yoo zzrinkin' ? Kerosene ? ! ❞
【 KID'S BIRTHDAY 2024. 】
@medicus-felini
The cat's pissed.
Completely and utterly sloshed.
The celebration has only just started, and she's obviously completely lost herself to the juice already. She rarely partakes in casual daytime drinking nor wild drunken partying alike, so Kid supposes it's inevitable that she would succumb to her intoxication faster than the rest of them. She's slurring her words and giddily stumbling around, but she looks like she's loving every moment of it, so he can't say he has any objections. It's nice to have her joining them; he was concerned she might become overly paranoid and start trying to lecture him about not accidentally meeting his untimely end by poisoning his liver. As long as nobody needs to get their stomach pumped after she inevitably blacks out later, it would all be fine.
She ambles over to him like a newborn kitten just learning where her feet are, and then she is swiping his drink from him and barely downing a single sip from the glass. Copper eyes follow her movements, though he does not intend to restrain her before the liquid has slipped down her throat.
❝ Naw, nooh kerosene; gotta ask Heat for that.
Tha's absinthe. Bit much for the ship's kitten, ay? ❞
Though he is usually averse to being touched, tonight he is hammered, he is surrounded by people he loves, and he is happy. With scarcely enough time for her to catch her breath, he abruptly ensnares her with his right arm to pull her tightly against his side in a drunken embrace. His body radiates warmth, and his breath carries traces of all the drinks he has already finished, but he still holds her directly against him anyway.
❝ Oi, oi. Bein' spoiled, am I? Figured ye'd just write me a prescription. Nooh a half chewed rat, is it? ❞
The part about the dead rat is obviously a joke. The part about the prescription is also a joke unless she decides to actually take him up on it.
His smile is broad, all teeth, like he's thoroughly entertained by her inebriation. Taking the box she's delivering to him, he continues to squeeze her even more firmly against his torso, pinching her between his arm and his body as he uses both hands to unwrap the gift in his lap. It was beautifully presented until he peels the paper apart, and he automatically hands the decorative ribbon to her for her to play with if she pleases.
The picture on the front of the box and the colorful letters leave no amount of room for questioning what it is. A children's woodwork project kit, which when completed will create a little wooden boat with metal wheels on the underside so it can roll across the floor. There are no sharp instruments involved; only pre-cut pieces of wood, some screws, tiny metal wheels that must be assembled, and a square sheet of soft sandpaper. It was the kind of simplistic design that even tots barely out of their infancy could piece together without much assistance from an adult.
As soon as he's registered what it is she's given him, he's lifting the top of the box to peer at the pieces inside. The wooden blocks, intended for the smallest of hands, feel vaguely familiar, despite the fact he was never gifted a set like this in his youth.
The memory is hazy, but he still distantly remembers almost twenty years ago — making his own toys out of whatever pieces of scrap he found lying on the ground. In the days before he had anyone on his side, he built his friends out of tin cans and pieces of wire. He vaguely recalls one in particular; a soup can 'robot' with a menacing smile he painted on for its face. The can he used for his head had originally been crudely stabbed open with a knife, and the ends of the wire he used for his body were exposing needle-sharp tips, so every time he played with it he would end up with fresh cuts and smears of blood on his hands — yet, despite that, he carried that little silver doll around like his favorite toy for as long as he could hold on to it.
He doesn't remember exactly what became of it. It was just a painted tin can, after all.
That younger him would've fawned, thrilled, and marveled over the cast metal and limewood underneath the press of impatiently indulgent fingers. A toy of similar caliber would’ve never made it into his possession, no matter how much effort he invested in saving up. It's a few years late, but that's just how things work out sometimes, he supposes.
Red lips abruptly plant themselves on top of the Mink's hair, delivering a swift kiss to her head, staining her in a perfect blotch of lipstick; an obnoxious patch that would doubtlessly remain for the rest of the night.
Had someone else amongst his crew been the one to hand him such a ridiculous gift, he would've perhaps taken it to be a good-natured prank; or an affectionate tease at best, aiming to bait him. The whole lot of them: playfully, wonderfully annoying in the only way that's familiar to their petulant captain.
It seems unlikely that Linn would be guilty of committing the same crime. She was the sweetest of their bunch — and would sooner profusely apologize than risk aggravating him.
Hell, Kid won't even allude to the fact that it's been a pretty damn long time since he last considered an entry level kit like this as being anywhere near challenging. Gag gift or not, the sight of her earnest excitement made it clear that the present had come from a good place with thoughtful intentions. He merely snorts, and continues to drawl.
❝ Ah, yer a guid girl, Linn.
Thank ye. ❞
With that, he's then replacing the lid back on top so he doesn't disrupt any of the pieces inside, mindful to not let anything fall out only for it to become lost for the rest of time underneath a chair.
❝ ...Hoo plastered d'ya think I can get if I take a shot for e'ery piece I put together? ❞
The gift is so well appreciated it will now be turned into a drinking game.
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