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diavolosthots · 3 years

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I don't know if I'm too late if so ignore this. Mc trying to take care of Lucifer. Like bringing him food and drinks, trying to make sure stuff is done in the house, stopping the brothers from bothering him.,thanks for reading my request and remember if you don't want to do it or I'm to late delete it.

You weren't too late at that time and I'm in a lucifer mood tonight so this is being done!

Also who else would like to try spicy hellburned chili now that i made it up? Because I do.

Helpful Hands (LUCIFER X GN!READER)

People always underestimate how much he does for this family, or at least he thinks so. They see mean old Lucifer who only ever bullies and is way too strict. They see the guy who has a patch of gray hair but should be way too young to have it. They see the Avatar of Pride who can’t bear to be defeated for the life of him. Sometimes they see a stuck up asshole who thinks of nothing but himself and occasional torture because he’s viewed as Mr. Sadist. The last part might be mildly true, but only on bad days and only to those who really deserve it. He’s heard it all, from both friends and foes alike, and of course his family. Even Diavolo scolds him at times, which that’s when he’s truly about to snap it because if it weren’t for the Demon Lord he probably wouldn’t be on edge all the time, but more on that later. The point is, though, that most, if not all, of those claims are fault.

People see the surface level. They see what they want to see and they don’t dare to dig deeper. Maybe they fear him, maybe they’re just too warped in the idea that he absolutely hates everyone that they also turn to hating him. A “I do you like you do me” type of deal, but if they would just take the time… if they would listen and really take a good look at him… maybe they’d realize he’s just suffering. Everytime he gets mad at Mammon or gives a stern, “not now,” that’s him being overwhelmed. Or if his agitation shines through, it’s not because he’s truly annoyed, but because he knows they can do better. He pushes his brothers, absolutely, but only because he knows their true potential. He holds all this weight on his shoulders, for everyone, and instead of giving a small thanks, they ruin his day. It’s hard being the unwanted parent of six, but if he wasn’t, Hell would burn. Or, well, more so than it usually does. Diavolo adds to his work on the daily, and maybe that wouldn’t be such a problem, if he weren’t also the one distracting him from such work and then getting onto him for not having it done.

It’s hard being him. It’s hard to be the responsible one because you feel like you have to; because you feel like you owe it to them. He blames himself, heavily, for everything that has happened, even though it was their choice to join him. He lays there at night, more often than he likes to admit, and asks himself the big “what if” questions. “What if I didn’t go against them.” “what if I let loose.” “What if I’m being too strict.” Never, ever will you hear him say these things. Pride, ya know? But you don’t need to hear those things because you do know. You see it in his tired eyes and slumped posture once no one is looking. You see it in the way he eats and his coffee outweighs his nutrients. You can tell every time his anger rises too quickly, although he deems himself the rational one. You know Lucifer, even if he thinks you don’t, and you feel bad for him. You feel bad that you’re the only one who seems to see how truly tired he is. How much of a shoulder to lean on he actually needs, and although you’d never dare just go up and offer it, because once again his pride still wouldn’t let him admit that, you try to acknowledge his needs in little ways.

Coffee was ready this morning, Lucifer noted, but he brushed it off because maybe it was just Beel’s late night or early morning snack; maybe he wanted some? “The pot is full…” and he took advantage of that. Whoever made the coffee, and someone must have because it was still hot and tasted fresh, he thanks them. You smiled to yourself when you saw him with a cup, heading back to his office, “morning, Lucifer. Enjoy your coffee.” He had looked at you, blinking a few times and probably wondering why you’re so cheery this early in the morning, “Good morning, (Y/N).” but that was it. Well, not really. Next thing he knew was that lunch was already done when he arrived in the kitchen to start it. “(Y/N)? What are you doing? It’s my turn.” but you only shrugged, wiping your hands before grabbing the plates and heading out to the dining room to place them, “yeah but I was already down here and didn’t have anything to do. Don’t mind me, just come sit and eat.” He didn’t say it, and he didn’t need to, but he was really appreciative and he even managed a small smile when you passed.

Those were isolated incidences, though, or so he thought. But now, little by little, he realized more and more things that he had never noticed before. The rooms were clean, or at least the ones he was in, the fridge and pantry was always stocked, even with Beel around, and he rarely ever got interrupted. Of course, he still heard the occasional arguments between his brothers; Mammon stealing the remote right as Belphegor was about to put sleepy time music on… seriously, why can’t the guy do that on his D.D.D.? Or Satan screaming at Leviathan who accidently tripped over Satan’s books in his room while lending him his headphones. Shocker on that one, right? Or maybe it was a disagreement between you and Beelzebub about which spices should be used in the Spicy Hellburned Chili for this wednesday night’s dinner. But all of these were minor and nothing compared to what he usually deals with. At first he was super suspicious though and would constantly check on everyone, but by day three he thought that maybe, just maybe, he had gotten lucky and he finally does have some peace. Spoiler alert: he did. He got way more done than he ever did.

That, however, does bother him. He doesn’t know who or why they would do it and as much as he enjoys it, he would also like to have a discussion with them. His birthday isn’t for another couple of months so he knows that that wouldn’t be the reason he’s being treated so nicely, so what else could it be? Mammon would only do this for money and even then he’s pretty upfront about it and begs for it Lucifer immediately after he had done the task, so he’s off the table. Satan and Belphegor would rather die than help him, Asmodeus is too obsessed with himself and Leviathan is holed up more than he shows any signs of life. So, the only other two people are you and Beelzebub, both of which are very nice people and debatably the only ones who truly care about him. The last part is a joke, but you two show it more than others. “Was it you that has been helping me?” But Beelzebub just looked confused, half a bag of chips down his throat as Lucifer asked and something told Lucifer that he wasn’t it. “No, but did you need help?” With a shake of his head and a sigh, Lucifer turned on his heel to go and find you, but not before doing something else.

“Come to my room, (Y/N).” he had said and for a moment you thought your whole plan backfired and his brothers annoyed him again, or maybe you had forgotten something in it? Were you not careful enough in your attempts to make his life easier? You haven’t even gotten to the best part! “I’m here…” you practically sprinted down the hall while trying to find an excuse for anything he could potentially say, but when he opened the door to let you in, all of those left your mind, “what’s up?” He didn’t look… mean, per se, but he looked stern like always and it kind of freaked you out. Did you do something wrong? Was the coffee not strong enough? You used the wrong spices for the chili, didn’t you? “Do you see this?” Lucifer’s finger pointed out and you followed it, noting it was pointing at his desk, “uhm…. Yes? Am I not supposed to see it? Wasn’t it always here?” “Yes, it has always been there. However, something is different.” You turned to look at him and then back at his desk. Was it new? Did he paint it? Is there a trophy on there you should be aware of? “Lucifer I can’t see--”

When you turned back around, he was holding out two glasses of champagne and a smile was, for once in what felt like forever, gracing his lips. “Exactly. It’s empty. You can actually see it.” he hands you one of the glasses, his smile never faltering, “I had an unusual amount of time this week thanks to a few… coincidences that just so happen to align with my schedule and make my life easier. I know it was you. You made my coffee that morning, and were kind enough to leave the pot. You took up my lunch shift on purpose, not because you were down there. You also took my dinner shift this week, and cleaned the house. I’m assuming you’re also responsible for keeping my brothers in line which is a miracle within itself.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head before reaching out his other hand and tilting your chin up, “I don’t know how or why… and frankly, I don’t want to know. It would ruin the fun of it, but I do want to thank you for it and seeing as I have nothing else to do tonight, or tomorrow, you’ll be staying with me.” You blinked a few times. You could feel your heartbeat speed up and for a moment you wondered what you had actually done, but also, how bad could this go? You had one more thing to give him, anyway. “Works for me. I have one more thing to give you, anyway.” You clink your glass with his before taking a sip, watching him raise an eyebrow while your own eyebrows rose up and your lips turned into a smirk. “Undress for me, Lucifer.”

You hope he will agree to a massage. Lord knows he needs his shoulders loosened up.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #lucifer avatar of pride #obey me lucifer x reader

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bwwfunfacts · 3 years

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On a scale of 1 to 10, who can handle spicy foods? (Eis gets excluded since he probably has an inhuman level of tolerance)

(I wouldn't say that Eis has an "inhuman" tolerance to spicy food. But the man can sure take a punch.)

Jose-4 at best. Some mildly spicy salsa can hit the spot during game or movie nights.

Fiona-2. She's not a spicy food fan. She'll go with black pepper and that's it.

Yuri-1 as of right now. She doesn't feel ready to taste spicy foods right now. She's right now even too scared of hot sauce.

Haoyu-Maybe a 6. He's been known to eat spicy chips from time to time. As long as he has something cool to wash it down.

Sana-It's between a 3 and a 4. She likes to eat jalapenos with salad sometimes. Or with a veggie burger.

Cass-1. She cannot handle spicy food at all. She'll throw a fit and act as if her tongue is melting off.

Cal-5 and climbing. Adding spicy seasoning to food gives it a real nice kick.

Iben-It sounds weird coming from her, but she's a 7 on the scale. During a party several years ago, she ate some spicy stuffed peppers, and she loved them. She somehow gained a tolerance to spice. And it has stuck with her ever since.

Attilio-He's a 5. He'll eat spicy stuff as long as it's mixed in with something.

Lucy-6 or 7. She sometimes likes spicy rice or curry. She doesn't know why, but it's addicting to her.

Bruce-1. He's an old man. Spicy food would probably kill the poor guy.

Leo-6 and climbing. His friends often do dares on who can eat the spiciest wings. Sometimes he wins; sometimes he loses.

Emma-2. She wouldn't touch anything spicy with a 10-foot pole. Just salt and pepper, and that's it.

Balan and Lance are unknown. They haven't eaten anything spicy in heaven knows how long. I think they're a little too afraid to try.

#balan wonderworld #wonderworld inhabitants #spicy food #scovel scale #heat tolorance

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ibijau · 3 years

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I’m a fucking DUMBASS and I read a prompt wrong but only realised as I was just about to post it :D So enjoy this jzx/jc that nobody actually asked for, I guess :D

It was Jin Zixuan’s idea to go explore, mostly because he was bored out of his mind. Visits to the Lotus Piers were never particularly fun to begin with, of course, but this time Jiang Yanli was not well enough to deal with visitors, so Jin Zixuan was stuck with her boring brother instead.

At least, it was just her boring brother this time. The Jiangs had figured out that Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixuan really couldn’t get along, so he was always absent for one reason or another when the Jins visited. Which would have been great, because Jin Zixuan could be convinced to tolerate Jiang Yanli when nobody bothered him or teased him or upset him in any way, but she wasn’t there and now he was stuck with Jiang Cheng who everyone said wasn’t very bright or very skilled or anything, less good than the bastard Jiang Fengmian had taken in, anyway, and…

And Jin Zixuan hadn’t wanted to spend any amount of time alone with someone unskilled, so he’d suggested that Jiang Cheng make him visit the Lotus Piers and the town around.

It turned out to be more interesting than expected. Jin Zixuan had never really gone around the Lotus Piers, usually sticking close to his mother during visits, or having tea with Jiang Yanli. He had felt no particular curiosity, knowing that of course it had to be inferior to Carp Tower. His parents often said so, criticising the Lotus Piers for its relaxed atmosphere, for the way it was so accessible to common people, for its less showy aesthetics. But Jiang Cheng, proud beyond words of his home, explained why things had been organised a certain way, why the history of the Jiang sect had favoured certain choices. His usually dull and somewhat grumpy face illuminated as he talked about the Lotus Piers, glowing in a way Jin Zixuan never knew that people could do. He’d never seen anyone do that at home.

So Jin Zixuan listened, enraptured against his will, as Jiang Cheng explained the choices of his ancestor with a skill for lecturing that none of Jin Zixuan’s teachers ever had.

“And that’s why it’s important to Yunmeng Jiang to be easily accessible to common people,” Jiang Cheng concluded as they finished their tour. “If they have a duty to us, then we have a duty to them as well, so it’s only fair.”

“My father says if we’re too easy to reach, the commoners will forget their place and start thinking they can bother us with just all their problems,” Jin Zixuan retorted, less assuredly than he normally would be when quoting his father. Jiang Cheng’s arguments had been pretty good. Or maybe it was just the conviction with which he’d said them. Jin Zixuan wasn’t used to so much passion.

Jiang Cheng shrugged.

“Well, maybe the people of Lanling are lazy or stupid then. But here, people don’t usually bother us unless it’s really needed. Except old Liu, but mostly he just needs to be given something to eat and sent back to his house so it’s fine.

Jin Zixuan felt insulted on behalf of the people of his city, but he couldn’t really argue against that logic. It annoyed him though, because Lanling was the best place in the world, he’d always been told as much, so it stung to think that maybe the people living there could be trusted less than the fishermen and lotus farmers of Yunmeng.

There was a moment of silence after that, as Jin Zixuan tried to find a way to defend his home and his people. Even if he was pretty impressed with everything Jiang Cheng had shown and told, it was absolutely impossible to admit it.

“Do you want to go in town?” Jiang Cheng asked when the silence lasted too long for his taste. “I know where to get good candies.”

“We’ll need to find an adult to come with us,” Jin Zixuan protested. “And to ask for permission, and…”

“No we won’t,” Jiang Cheng retorted, throwing him a puzzled look. “The door’s right there, and as long as we stay on the big streets it’s fine. We’re twelve, who’s going to stop us from going around a bit?”

Jin Zixuan, who was barely allowed to visit even some part of Carp Tower without supervision, stared at Jiang Cheng as if he’d grown a second head.

The wise thing to do, of course, was to refuse this invitation. Jin Zixuan couldn’t say why when he refused, because Jiang Cheng was clearly used to far more freedom than him and would mock him for still being a baby who can’t do anything on his own. But it was clear that he had to refuse. His mother would absolutely murder him if he just disappeared like that, without warning anyone, without any grown-ups to look after him.

“Come on, let’s just go!” Jiang Cheng insisted, grabbing him by the arm as if they were close, something nobody would dare to do in Carp Tower. “It’ll be fun.”

Jin Zixuan should have protested.

He had to protest.

He did not, thrilled beyond words to be doing something forbidden.

Yunmeng was a very different sort of city from Lanling, a lot freer and noisier. Jin Zixuan wondered, briefly, if that was because the people living there just weren’t the same, or if it was because the people of Lanling made special efforts to be deferential toward Jin cultivators. Back home, nobody would ever have dared to shout at a junior disciple to come check their wares or try a dish, let alone shout at the heir apparent of the sect. But people were calling out Jiang Cheng's name as if he were just one of the other children playing in the street, complaining about how long it had been since he’d visited, teasing him about managing to get rid of Wei Wuxian for a day.

Jiang Cheng took it all in stride, glowing even more than he had done when offering a tour of his home. His face looked really different when he was smiling, and Jin Zixuan found himself wondering why Jiang Cheng didn’t smile more when it suited him so much better than his usual sour expression.

Not that Jin Zixuan had that much time to observe Jiang Cheng. The familiarity with which the other boy was greeted was extended to Jin Zixuan whenever Jiang Cheng introduced him as a visiting friend. People would ask him all sorts of questions about his visit and his family that he didn’t quite know how to answer, still reeling from Jiang Cheng calling him his friend. It was just easier than to explain Jin Zixuan was Jiang Yanli’s fiancé, of course, that was the only reason, but nobody had ever dared to presume they were Jin Zixuan’s friend before and he found it… nice.

Nicer than it should have been, for sure.

Nice enough that Jin Zixuan could tolerate being talked to so casually by merchants and street vendors.

It was fun, anyway, to be given so much food to try out. The candies that Jiang Cheng had mentioned as the goal of their little adventure were probably the most disgustingly sweet thing that Jin Zixuan had ever tasted, and he loved them even if they made his jaw ache. Most of the dishes were pretty nice as well, at least until Jiang Cheng made him taste a very red looking stew.

Jin Zixuan should have guessed, from the way Jiang Cheng and the vendor glanced at each other, from their barely restrained grins, that there was something fishy. But everything so far had tasted so good, and everyone had been so nice, and Jin Zixuan didn’t want to be rude. So he had a mouthful of the stew.

And nearly immediately broke into tears, his lips and tongue burning as if he’d swallowed fire. Jiang Cheng burst out laughing, the horrible little bastard, even though Jin Zixuan was in absolute agony. He’d never tasted anything like that, and he hated the heat clinging to every part of his mouth, refusing to cool down until Jiang Cheng took pity on him and paid for some white rice that surprisingly helped with the burning sensation.

“I trusted you,” Jin Zixuan hissed when the pain receded enough to speak.

“That’s your problem,” Jiang Cheng retorted.

“You! Is this how you treat everyone, or am I just unlucky?”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes, still grinning at the prank he’d just played, but he didn’t seem triumphant the way, say, Wei Wuxian would have been if he’d managed that.

Then again, Jin Zixuan would never have trusted Wei Wuxian in the first place.

“You’re just too dramatic,” Jiang Cheng accused, more teasing than anything. “Come on, I’ll get you some honey candies, it’ll help you.”

It did help, in fact. And while Jin Zixuan was a little more careful with tasting things after that, Jiang Cheng didn’t try to trick him again. In fact, he even warned him against trying certain dishes, explaining that these too were spicy, even if they didn’t look like it. For some reason, it made Jin Zixuan’s heart beat a little faster each time. He assumed it was the fear of nearly tasting something painful again, and was mildly grateful to Jiang Cheng for protecting him.

All things considered they had a great time in town together. It was probably the best afternoon of Jin Zixuan’s life, and he found himself wishing he could come visit Lotus Piers more often. It wasn’t so bad to spend time with Jiang Cheng, when it was just him.

#xuancheng #chengxuan #jin zixuan #jiang cheng #mdzs #I feel really super stupid ahaha orz #especially since I'd told myself that this would be my last prompt fill until I manage to take care of the two winter exchanges I'm part of #oh well there's never enough xuancheng in this world right right right?#jau writes #yeah no I just feel stupid orz

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ikeromantic · 3 years

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A Little While Longer

A Mitsuhide Akechi story, approx. 1500 words of fluff and spiciness.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: The Fox Path

Mitsuhide knelt to make a small fire. After riding through the night and most of the day, it was safe enough to stop. Besides, his little mouse couldn’t handle much more no matter what brave face she put on it.

“Didn’t you tell me this part of the forest was haunted by a vengeful ghost?” She was setting out their bed rolls when she asked, trying to pretend there wasn’t an edge of nervousness to the question.

“Did I? Hmmm.” Mitsuhide grinned.

She tossed a pebble at him. “You are so mean.”

“I am. But not to my little one. Just keep your bedroll close to mine and I’ll make sure you’re safe for the night.”

“You’re just saying that to get me in arm’s reach.” She settled her bedroll beside his.

Mitsuhide pretended wide-eyed surprise. “Am I? Oh dear. But then, you’re moving your bedroll so I must assume you don’t object.”

“Well . . . I might not.” She was blushing again and wouldn’t look directly at him.

He grinned his crescent moon smile. “I’m glad to hear it.”

They unpacked their camp items and settled the horses in companionable silence. Mitsuhide couldn’t help the way his eyes followed her, or all the little reasons he found to touch her. Brushing fingertips as they reached for the same item. Bumping shoulders while they unsaddled the horses. Resting his palm on her back when she stood close.

“I - I guess I can boil some water. I got some dried noodles for us when I was shopping,” the chatelaine said, but didn’t move away from his touch.

Mitsuhide stroked her back lightly, running his fingers in little circles. She seemed to like that. “Let me boil the water. I have a little surprise for you.”

“Oh?” She looked up, eyes half-lidded.

“Mmm, a spring just a little ways into the trees. We were fairly close to it the first time we camped in these woods. I thought you might enjoy a bath. Even if it’s cold.”

His little mouse laughed softly. “If anyone had a hidden hotspring it would be you. I’m almost disappointed. But that sounds nice. A quick, cold bath before dinner and bed. Can you show me where it is?”

Mitsuhide walked her to the spring. It was a deep pool that fed into a narrow creek. Really only a little larger than a bath, with dark granite sides and sandy bottom. The afternoon light glinted off the still water, and the bamboo swayed and creaked.

“Are you sure it’s safe here? No ghosts?” The chatelaine looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Certainly not in broad daylight,” he chuckled. “But if you like, I can stay here and keep watch?”

“Pffft. As if I’d let you just - just watch me.” Her eyes told a different story. Conflict between her pride and desire.

Mitsuhide ruffled her hair. “It’s not as if I haven’t seen you nude. But as you like.” He turned to leave. “If you need me, just scream.” He dodged the twig she tossed his way without looking.

He had to admit, it was hard to wait for her there. He busied himself with little tasks. Boiling the water, shifting the bedrolls. Staring up at the trees and imagining what she was doing right that second. Ah, to be a water drop . . .

The noodles were ready by the time she returned. Bits of dried fish and pepper made a nice broth for them - or at least it smelled good. For Mitsuhide, there was only edible and inedible. He hoped his little mouse approved even if it was nowhere near the delicacies Masamune could prepare.

She came back, her hair wet and hanging down her back. Her clothes were loosely tied, her skin still damp.

“Feel better?”

“A little cold, but yeah.” She sat down beside him and leaned into his shoulder. “Something smells good. Did you cook?”

“I boiled some things in a pot.”

She tasted the broth and smiled. “It’s good.”

They ate together, sharing the spoon. Mitsuhide enjoyed every bite, mostly because he teasingly convinced his little one to feed him. It was entertaining to watch how carefully she moved. But the best part was when he took the spoon from her.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Returning the favor. Now open your mouth -” He held the spoon up, blowing lightly across the soup.

“I can do that myself.”

“But you don’t have too.” He leaned closer, the spoon between them, until there was barely a hairsbreadth between the spoon and her lips. “Open wide.”

Her expression was mortified but she did what he told her to.

“There. It wasn’t too hot? Not too much?”

“Nope. Now give me the spoon.” The chatelaine held her hand out.

“It is your turn to feed me, yes?” Mitsuhide’s eyes glinted with mischief.

“You are enjoying this too much.”

Mitsuhide shrugged. “I will not deny it.”

With dinner finished, they both washed up at the creek and packed everything away. It would be a cold breakfast in the saddle tomorrow to put more distance between them and Chugoku. Mitsuhide wondered if Yoshiaki or the daimyo sent anyone to follow them this far. It was possible they might be dogged all the way to Azuchi. He doubted it though. Too much trouble for them and too little reward.

“You know, you should probably take a bath too.” The chatelaine poked his arm. “I can wait here by the fire. I don’t mind.”

“It will be dark. Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You’ll be right back, so I don’t mind.” She wrinkled her nose. “Besides, you need it.”

Mitsuhide felt mildly offended. “I see. Then maybe you should come with me and inspect my work. I’d hate to return and find I am not clean enough to suit your tastes.”

This had the desired effect of reducing his little one to a stammering blush.

He grinned. “Then if you won’t inspect me, I expect no complaints.”

“Pfft. That’s - that’s not - I can’t -” She sighed, flustered.

Mitsuhide ruffled her hair. “No complaints then.”

He left her at the camp and walked to the spring. It was dark enough that the frogs and lizards were scurrying in the underbrush now, and the crickets were singing to the darkening sky. Mitsuhide felt at peace. Even knowing this was temporary - he had to savor this moment. He undid the ties on his clothes and hung them in a nearby tree. Naked and feeling oddly vulnerable, he lowered himself into the cold spring water. It wasn’t as bad as he expected - just a little cooler than the air.

It did feel good to rinse away the dirt and sweat. He rubbed his skin clean with handfuls of sand and washed his face. Mitsuhide was about to rinse his hair when something caught his attention. A rustling in the brush, the almost-silent tread of stealthy footsteps.

He pretended not to notice, but his eyes scanned the forest. It could be the daimyo’s men. Or bandits. He glanced toward his clothes, his sword and shoes were at the foot of the tree. Not far, but far enough to leave him open if his stalker struck.

Mitsuhide rose up half out of the water. Pretending to stretch in the general direction of his things. There was a sound then, a sharp inhale or a gasp. A feminine gasp, almost . . . a squeak. His eyes tracked toward the sound.

And there she was. His little mouse. Hiding behind some brush. Her gaze met his but he pretended not to notice. Smiling, he continued his stretch. Letting the water lap at his waist. His hips. He could feel her eyes on him, the way she stared at his exposed skin. Mitsuhide was a man used to being admired, but he’d never enjoyed it as much as this. Knowing she thirsted for him as much as he, for her. It made him want to do rash things.

He made a dance of leaving the cold water and slowly dressing. It was, he decided, a fun way to tease. But it would have been more so if he could see all the expressions she made. He wished there were time to do it again in a place she couldn’t hide.

The chatelaine scurried back to camp when he was mostly dressed. He couldn’t miss the sound of her movements - clumsier now than when she approached.

At the fire, she waited for him. Her hands clasped innocently in her lap. Sitting on her bedroll as if she’d been there the whole time. “Did you have a good bath?”

“Oh yes. It was very nice.” He knelt behind her and pulled her up against him. “I wouldn’t have minded your company. It was lonely.” He kissed the tip of her ear and down the side of her neck.

“Ah. Yes. I. I had to. Stay. Here.”

“Of course,” he murmured into her shoulder. “Now come here and help me get warm.”

The chatelaine opened her mouth to protest but he brushed a featherlight kiss across it before she could.

“You’re still my wife, remember? For a little while longer.”

Next: Journey’s End

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #ikemen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff

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iwillhaveamoonbase · 3 years

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Love at First Bite

Rayla is taken by a client to eat at the Italian-Korean fusion place in town and falls in love with the food, and later, the chef.

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

Rayla smiled at her client as they waited for their server to come. Her boss had told her that they had to keep the contract with the client’s company no matter what, and if that meant going to a Korean-Italian fusion restaurant that would probably be too spicy for Rayla’s Scottish, fried-food-loving taste buds, so be it. The client, Ms. Danvers, had been hyping the restaurant up all evening. “You said you like potatoes? This place as amazing kimchi-style potatoes and potato pancakes.”

Rayla nodded. “My grandmother is Irish and there are always potatoes cooking in her house.” Rayla subtly looked around the dining room. The walls were mostly white with a few panels a beautiful red. There was artwork on the walls, ranging from sceneries to portraits. They all looked to be done by the same artist but Rayla couldn’t place a name to them. The air was warm and smelled of spices and herbs and cheese. Rayla could see a row of cheeses on one of the shelves. “Do they use a lot of cheese here?”

“Korean food pairs wonderfully with cheese. There’s a rumor that all the vegetables here are from the local farmer’s market as are most of the cheeses. It’s fusion, but it’s as domestic as possible, too.”

“You’ve really been talking this place up.”

Ms. Danvers flushed. “It’s my favorite restaurant. I come here for lunch once a week and get take-away whenever I’m having a bad day. This place is known for Korean-Italian fusion, but they make a delicious Thai laksa and a vegetarian Tom Yum that is to die for.”

“Really?” Rayla didn’t know that much about Asian food, but she knew that Tom Yum was common in Thai eateries.

“The chef is a quarter-Thai and a quarter-Korean, his grandparents being from Thailand and South Korea. He knows the flavors well and plays with them, but when he goes authentic, he’s the best in town. He will also make almost any dish vegetarian if you request it.”

“How accommodating.”

A server came up, a smile on their face. “Good evening and welcome to Sarai’s Place. Any wine to start this evening?” Rayla shook her head, surprised when Ms. Danvers asked for Thai iced tea for the both of them. “And what can I get started for you?”

“Ms. Burrows?”

Rayla looked down at the menu again. “Hmm. I’m not sure what to get. I don’t have a very high spice tolerance.”

The server nodded. “Scale of 1 to 10?”

“Maybe a three.”

“Do you like kimchi?”

“Never had it.”

“Then I recommend trying the kimchi potatoes, if you like potatoes, or the risotto, which features chopped kimchi, sesame oil, and garlic. The chef makes two kinds of kimchi, one mild and one spicy, so he’ll use the mild for you. For the main dish, if you enjoy cheese, a pasta dish that has mussels, a Korean chili paste and tomato sauce, and fresh parmesan. Everything that can be local, is local and if you eat vegetarian, the mussels will be taken out and instead you will get mushrooms.”

“My grandmother is Irish so I’m very snobbish with my potatoes.”

“I would rate his potato pancakes a ten. He takes the traditional Korean recipe and adds parmesan cheese and some rosemary and its cooked with the house chili oil, so when you cut into it, it’s cheesy and subtly spicy. The house chili oil is made with both gochugaru and the type of dried chilis usually used to make olio di peperocino.”

“I’ll go with the pancakes and the mussels pasta you suggested.”

“Excellent choice. And for you?”

Ms. Danvers smiled. “Did he make Tom Yum or laksa today?”

“Laksa.”

“I will take a bowl of laksa while Ms. Burrows is eating her pancakes and I will also take the mussels pasta. Can we also get an order of garlic bread?”

“Of course. I’ll get your Thai iced teas ready. Anything else today?”

“What’s the dessert of the week?”

“Since it’s summer, mango pudding, Thai coconut pudding, and strawberry-lime cheesecake.”

“We’ll each take a slice of the strawberry-lime cheesecake.” The server nodded and walked away after reading back the list. “I hope you don’t mind me ordering dessert for you, but he only makes that cheesecake when the strawberries are in their peak season and it’s worth it.”

Rayla nodded. “No problem, Ms. Danvers. I wouldn’t really know what to order otherwise.”

They chatted while they waited, pausing when the garlic bread came to the table. Rayla had been expecting the kind of garlic bread Americans seemed to adore, buttery and almost artificially garlic-y. Instead, they got small, fresh loaves that had pieces of roasted garlic and thyme baked into it, served with the house chili oil and garlic that had been cooked until it spread like butter on the bread. Rayla was impressed with the flavor and how the pieces of garlic were not overpowering.

When the potato pancakes came, Rayla could smell the spice but trusted the server had not led her astray, eyeing her glass of Thai iced tea just in case. One bite and she was in heaven. The cheese and the heat from the chili only enhanced the potato flavor as did the light smattering of soy sauce and vinegar-based sauce. Rayla almost ignored Ms. Danvers when the pasta came, inhaling the dish. At the end of the meal, once the excellent cheesecake had been finished, Rayla was in love with the food. “Well, Ms. Danvers, I suppose I should be thanking you for introducing me to my new favorite restaurant.”

Ms. Danvers chuckled. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“I would marry the chef in a heartbeat if I got to eat like this every day for the rest of my life.”

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

Rayla brought all her clients and her coworkers to Sarai’s Place in the following months. She tried almost everything on the menu, though she was still mildly terrified of the spiciness of the laksa if the smell alone was anything to go by. Every Monday and Thursday, she got take-away and ordered the dessert whenever she ate in on Saturdays. She was thankful she was single or else she would have to come here every week with someone and she liked dining alone in the quiet restaurant.

Sometimes, they played classical music, other times K-pop, and Rayla would always remember the night they had played an opera medley when several people with the Katolis Opera Company had dined that night. The chef seemed keenly aware of who came to his restaurants at what dates and times and played music to fit their tastes but also made sense with the theme.

It was a popular spot with not only Foodies and high school kids, but a lot of Asian-Americans dined there. Rayla had looked up the reviews and had seen it was highly recommended by the Katolis Korean and Thai communities, the Katolis restaurant circles, and the Commission for the Promotion of Local Ingredients and Farmer’s Markets. No one said anything bad about Sarai’s Place without at least ten people defending the restaurant’s choices.

And now Rayla was sitting with her boss, Ahling Patel, and having to stop herself from inhaling the food in front of her. The risotto was so satisfying and paired with chicken breast stuffed with kimchi, perilla, and ricotta. “What do you think, Mr. Ahling?”

“It’s delicious. I’ve always felt that fusion was a gimmick, but I’m sold by this young man’s food. Young lady,” Ahling called the server, smiling good-naturedly when she nodded at him and finished up with her current customer. When she came up to their table, she greeted them again. “Is there anyway we can speak to the chef?”

The server blinked before nodding. “I’m sure I can arrange it. Dinner service is almost over and there are only you and two other tables. Can I bring you dessert while I’m talking to him?”

“What do you recommend?”

“Our pastry chef made yakgwa, which are little honey pastries made with pine nuts, ginger, and sesame oil and they also made a yuja polenta cake and a play on Italian lemon cake, but with yuja.”

Rayla ordered the yakgwa and Ahling got the polenta cake and waited for the news. Rayla couldn’t recall having ever seen the chef even though she came there at least twice a week, closer to three. She hadn’t seen any pictures of him, either, surprisingly enough. He was said to keep to himself and shunned the limelight, which is why he never made TV appearances.

A few minutes later, it wasn’t their server, but a man who looked be about 26 arriving with their desserts. His green eyes were striking, as were his cheekbones and sharp jawline. He gave them both an awkward smile as Rayla noticed his ring finger was bare and didn’t seem to have a tan line. Was this the chef? His coat would seem to say so. “Nice to meet you both. I’m Callum Evans, the owner and executive chef here at Sarai’s Place.”

Ahling smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, young man. I’m Ahling Patel and this is my employee, Rayla Burrows.” Rayla nodded her head in acknowledgement. “Your food is delicious. How on Earth do you even think of this?”

The young man flushed, looking down at his feet. “Um, I’m not that special. Many people before me found that Korean and Italian food go well together. Most of my recipes are riffs on family recipes and all my Thai dishes are family recipes. I was originally going to go traditional Korean or Thai but there were no fusion places in the area and I’m part Irish and German on top of being a quarter-Thai and a quarter-Korean. It felt…right, I guess. I’m mixed and grew up with a variety of food cultures in my house, so why not do fusion? Korean and Italian just made the most sense, so…” He looked embarrassed at the praise, rubbing the back of his neck.

Rayla leaned forward a bit. “I’ve eaten here at least twice week for the past six months. I can tell you, without a doubt, it’s my favorite place to eat.”

“Thank you.”

Ahling cleared his throat. “Are you single, Mr. Evans?”

Callum flushed even deeper. “Ah. Yes. Being a chef requires long hours and running a restraint requires even more.”

“You need a good partner to help you find balance in your life!”

Rayla remained quiet as she watched them talk. The only thing going through her mind was ‘I’m going to marry this man for his food. I’ll eat well for the rest of my life.’ She stayed when Ahling said good night and while the restaurant emptied out. Callum stayed at the table, fidgeting under her gaze. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“A date.”

Callum blinked. “We have a sticky rice made with dates-”

“No. A romantic excursion. An outing.”

He gulped, looking her up and down. “A date? Really?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I fell in love with your food almost immediately after I tasted it and would like the chance to know the man who cooks it.”

Callum blushed. “OK.” They exchanged info and Rayla smirked as she left with his number in her cellphone. There was no way she would be letting this one go.

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

After four months of dating, Rayla could confidently say that she was now just as in love with Callum the man as she was with his cooking. Learning that his restaurant was named after his mother who died when he was in high school had endeared him to her, as had the knowledge that all the art on the walls were his paintings. Was there anything he couldn’t do?

They were currently in Callum’s kitchen, him developing a new recipe while Rayla took down notes for him. Even on his days off, he was always thinking about what he would do next and Rayla admired his passion to his craft. When he brought her up to try the dish, she groaned. “I will marry this man if it’s the last thing I do,” she muttered.

“I can hear you, you know,” Callum chuckled.

Rayla raised a brow. “Then why haven’t you accepted my proposal?”

“Because you proposed to my food?”

“I hardly see the difference.” Callum laughed at her, shaking his head. “Hey, move in with me.”

“We’ve been together for four months.”

“Is that a problem? Too short?”

Callum stared at her. “You’re serious.”

“I told you; I fully plan on marrying you to eat your cooking ‘til the day I die.”

“So, it’s my cooking you love?”

“When have I hidden this?” Rayla reached for his hand, pulling him closer. “I’m serious. Move in with me.”

“Why?”

Rayla shrugged. “I’m happy when we wake up next to each other. I like the idea of coming home to you or you coming home to me. I don’t like sleeping alone, and, for the past month, the two of us have been alternating sleeping at each other’s places and it doesn’t make sense to pay rent on two places when we could be happy together?”

“That and I’m the only person willing to put up with your stubborn ass.”

Rayla gave him a mock offended looking, giving his arm a playful smack. “You love my stubborn ass.”

“I do.” Callum leaned down and captured her lips, letting her taste the dish he had been working on for the past hour. When they pulled apart, he looked down into her eyes with his bright green ones. “I think I love you.”

“That’s good, because I think I love you, too.”

Rayla would take that for now. And in two years, when she would be standing next to him in front of their new house, matching rings on their fingers, and a very pregnant belly, she would remind him that he had his food to thank for their relationship. “I fell in love with your food first.”

“I’m glad you did, because you kept coming back.”

“Lucky you.”

“Lucky me.”

#moonbase fanfics #rayllum #rayllum fanfic #the dragon prince #au #love at first bite #this was just for fun

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boobear-harold · 4 years

Text

I was tagged by @sunflowrhaz to answer a few questions that dig a little deeper. thank you love <3

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or a blue pen?

don’t really care but prob black

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or in the city?

Country. I’ve lived in the bush all my life - although I would love it if I lived closer to a big city.

3. If you could learn a new skill, what would it be?

Piano (i know like the right hand of one song), and I spent a year studying Italian and dont remember anything from it so I would like to actually be fluent.

4. do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar?

I only drink black tea(with milk) and I have 2 sugars. I do have pretty big mugs though

5. What was your favourite book as a child?

the harry potter series, and then probably the Eragon series or the Wings series. do not get me started on just how badly they did the Eragon movie though

6. Do you prefer baths or showers?

showers tbh

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be?

a mermaid or a faerie, I was obsessed with both as a kid

8. Paper or electronic books?

Defffinitely paper. Theres just something about the smell and the feel <3

9. What is your favourite item of clothing?

😬 i have an overflowing wardrobe... maybe the Spell dress I treated myself to, or my denim jacket, or one of my maxi dresses idk idk

10. Do you like your name? Would you like to change it?

as a kid i always wanted my middle name to be my name... like i started calling myself that and everything sdskfjhlksfk but now no not really. I like my name (although it is annoying that there is a brand with the same name)

11. Who is a mentor to you?

my mum 💕 she’s an absolute legend

12. Would you like to be famous? If so, what for?

I wouldn’t mind if like my art or the things I made were famous but like me actually famous myself? noooooo thank you i’ll pass

13. Are you a restless sleeper?

lmao no i remember once my dad apologised for using the chainsaw near my bedroom window and i was like ??? I didn’t hear it at all.

14. Do you consider yourself to be a romantic person?

very much so but I feel like other people don’t think I am

15. Which element best represents you?

i am an earth sign but would probably pick water

16. Who do you want to be closer to?

i miss seeing my siblings as much as i did when we were kids, and i miss my friends from high school so much... we never see each other anymore

17. Do you miss someone at the moment?

yeah

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory.

most of my childhood memories include horseriding or swimming at the beach or river

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten?

tbh i’m pretty fussy. Oh! actually I had kangaroo once in primary school when we had this like ‘indigenous culture education’ thing. Do not remember what it tastes like at all

20. What are you most thankful for?

i was going to say the same thing so I’m just going to leave your answer there lol

my family, my health, the beautiful country i live in, the friends i have made on here 💛so many things

21. Do you like spicy food?

not in the slightest. I dont even like pepper on my food

22. Have you ever met someone famous?

depends on what kind of famous we’re talking lol i’ve met a couple of mildly well known aussie bands, a politician, an athlete that carried the 2000 olympic torch through my town, but nobody like really famous

23. Do you keep a diary or journal?

i dont use it as much anymore but from like mid teens until a few years ago i used one a lot. It was the best feeling to just like write everything i felt like i couldn’t/shouldn’t say but i guess i dont need it so much anymore

24. Do you prefer to use pen or pencil?

pen

25. What is your star sign?

capricorn sun, aries moon, aquarius rising

26. Do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy?

i haven’t eaten cereal in years but its gotta be crunchy. are there actually people who like soggy cereal lmao

27. What would you want your legacy to be?

this sounds so cheesy but I just wanna be someone people are comfortable to be around

28. Do you like reading? What was the last book you read?

do i like breathing? my first memory of books is having fairytale books stacked like 30cm+ high on the end of my bed when I was like 4/5. I just finished The Lost Book of the White and am currently reading Midnight Sun(dont judge me i needed to know what it was like)

29. How do you show someone you love them?

i’m definitely a show not tell kind of person. hugs, doing a task they don’t like doing so that they dont have to do it, hugs, gifts, hugs,

30. Do you like ice in your drinks?

sometimes

31. What are you afraid of?

losing my family, never travelling, not doing anything with my life

32. What is your favourite scent?

jasmine, rain, freesias, books, roses, my mums perfume,

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname?

calling anyone by their surname is not really a thing where i’m from (unless it gets turned into a nickname)

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life?

travelling a lot, secretly paying off peoples debts, handing out money to strangers, I would just travel and try to make peoples lives easier

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean?

100% pool. I always feel like a plant that someone poured salt on after i’ve swam at the beach

36. What would you do if you found $50 on the ground

keep it unless i could figure out who’s it was

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Did you make a wish?

i’ve seen a few :) and yes

38. What is one thing you would want to teach your children?

i don’t think i want kids, but if I had them probably just to be kind, tolerant and not to judge to quickly, and definitely to use common sense

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it?

hmmm definitely something small, probably ~aesthetic~ artsy or some symbol that means something to me. I’d get it wrist, above or below my elbow (inner), or maybe ankle. I’ve actually always wanted an infinity symbol on the side of my ring finger

40. What can you hear right now?

my fan and my cat yawning

41. Where do you feel the safest?

at home, probably in my bed reading or smth

42. What is one thing you want to overcome/conquer?

procrastination, self-doubt, anxiety

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be?

i’m always thinking fashion when it comes to history so probably some where from 1850s - 1920s england/france. or like 1600s france.

44. What is your most used emoji?

😂💖🤦‍♀️🤷‍♀️

45. Describe yourself using one word.

creative... or stubborn, or kind idk

46. What do you regret the most?

... not trying. But there’s always time to change that I guess :)

47. Last movie you saw?

dont remember... i’ve been watching a lot of tv

48. Last tv show you watched?

currently watching Hart of Dixie

49. Invent a word and its meaning

solgim - the sparkly feeling when you have a crush on someone

i tag: @weareonejazzhand @queerlydestructive @sunsetlarry @feellikearainbow @babygater @fuckingniall @sunflower-vol14 @oneandonlyhl @softcoeurs @heyangel @louisteapot @proudandexcited only if you feel like it <3 also if i didnt tag you and you want to please do and tag me

#this took forever oh my god #tag games #long post

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themockingcrows · 4 years

Text

Second Base Desserts

Davepetasprite/John Egbert This chapter is Mildly Spicy and thus Not SFW. cw: sloppy makeouts, grinding, and copious boob touch. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25320091

To say he was nervous would be an understatement. Of course John was nervous. Davepeta was a culmination of one of his best friends he’d had a crush on for years when he was younger and a troll he’d never met in life, all blended up into a creature that was one of the cutest things he’d ever seen. Sprites were confusing in how they worked, though people had tried to explain it to him multiple times, including the sprites themselves… but when it came down to it, John just knew they were their own person and their own being, and that was enough. Davepeta was no more Nepeta than Dave or Davesprite or vice versa, and while there were memories of all sides, they were far more than the sum of their parts.

It was kind of amazing to him.

Wait, no, he was supposed to be nervous about his upcoming date, not waxing poetic and daydreaming about the sprite he was going to be spending time with. John slapped either side of his face a few times with both hands before looking more seriously into the mirror, examining his features. Same eyes, same brows, same nose, same zit on his chin, sam-

Fuck, why now?! Was it the stress? It was probably the stress, why else would he be breaking out like a teenager in his 20’s? Cussing his under breath John took care of the pustule and washed his face in the sink, finishing off with cool water, puffing a bit of air from his hand at his face to dry it rather than search blindly for the towel hanging to the side. The circle of stupidity may have been completed long ago, but it would never be complete enough for him to grab it on the first reaching try.

Okay. There, everything looked to be in order now. Satisfied with the mirror, John went and bulldozed his way through a half dozen shirts, trying to find something that looked good without trying too hard. Joke shirt? No. Meme shirt? Fuck, no, though laser cat would have his day eventually. Button down? ...Hm. The button down had merit, dressy but not too dressy. He knew he’d look clean cut and presentable, and it didn’t make him look too skinny when he wore a shirt under it and left it open…

A look at his watch, another bit of cussing, and John raced to get the shirts on, as well as his pants. Out of time, out of time. He was just starting to jump into his shoes when the doorbell rang and caught his attention, making him nearly trip over the stairs in his hurry to get down there in time. Floating all but left his mind as he rushed, relying on his legs to get the job done.

“Hey! Sorry you were… waiting,” John trailed off, mouth suddenly gone dry. Davepeta was taller than him by half a head, and this was added to by a set of heeled sandals today. They wore a shortish skirt with a bottom wave and a frilled edge, dark leggings that reached their calves, and a band t-shirt that had shredded shoulders and a shredded side that just showed the strap of a red bra beneath over their pale flashing skin. With their wings folded behind their back, it was kind of mesmerizing, glittering instead of flashing. He couldn’t track or trace the changing colors accurately, as they seemed to meld into each other just around the edges of papery white like pearlescence in the light.

“I wasn’t waiting long at all, your timing is purrfect,” they said with a grin, showing off sharp canines. John wet his lips briefly, trying not to gawk too much.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He had a date with this person and he could barely keep his head straight.

“Yeah,” he said, awkwardly standing still until Davepeta tipped their head to the side and grinned again.

“...Should I come in? Or do you want to just go?”

“Wh- oh. Yeah. I’m uh. Yeah, let me just grab my wallet and keys real quick,” he said, darting away from the door to fumble his wallet and phone and jam them into his pocket, and get his keys into his hand from the bowl by the door. “Did you uh. Did you decide what you wanted to eat?”

“Yeah, I’m open to pretty much anything, but burgers can’t go wrong as a fallback,” they said, patiently waiting while John collected himself before popping outside and locking up.

“How are you with chopsticks?”

Davepeta was quiet for a moment, tipping their head back and searching their memories. Chopsticks, chopsticks.. Dave knew how to use them. Nepeta didn’t seem to. Would they be able to do it? Access the muscle memory correctly and certainly it should be possible.

“I think I’m pretty good,” they finally said.

“Buffet, maybe?”

“Sounds fun!” they said, reaching out the grasping John’s arm, tugging him close excitedly as he pulled his phone back out to search for the address. He felt their chest against his shoulder, warm and pliant, and it took even more effort than before to keep his thumb sliding smoothly against the screen. Food. Focus on food.

...

Boobs.

No, food. Focus on the food. Boobs later.

Boobs later?

Maybe?

GEEZE, COME ON JOHN, WHERE’S THE FUCKING FOOD.

Oh, there it was. Though he’d eaten there at least a dozen times since making sure they didn’t use peanut oil, directions escaped him when his mind was this distracted by his date. He showed the screen to Davepeta for their confirmation and acceptance, and found himself grinning when they smiled and nodded at the suggestion.

...Fuck their smile was cute. The slight cleft of their lip that gave a distinctly feline appearance, the sharp teeth, yet the familiar nose and eyes and chin of his friend. Soon as he’d slipped his phone into his pocket once more, John felt his feet leaving the ground, the sprite already excitedly taking flight to lead them along.

“Wait, I uh. I thought it’d be kind of nice to walk,” John admitted, hovering.

Davepeta thought it over before nodding and returning to the ground, tucking their wings behind their body once more. “We’re not that far off, I guess you’re right. More room to talk while walking,” they agreed.

“Yeah, exactly,” John said, setting off in the correct direction once Davepeta curled onto his arm once more. Their size difference made it a bit awkward, but neither of them seemed to care. Davepeta’s tail curled gently against his leg now and then as they walked, and the air was filled with chatter about movies, about snacks, about what they’d done the last few days. John found himself being quieter to listen to Davepeta’s fascinating depiction of normal everyday things, somehow making the most mundane things seem exciting.

Late night ice cream became an adventure, chasing birds in the sky was a sport worthy of competition, and managing to do their laundry naked without getting caught so everything wound up clean at the same time was the most distracting thing John had ever heard in his life. It became almost impossible not to imagine what they looked like underneath that cute outfit as they walked, to not ponder the shape of their thighs based on their stride. Their arrival at the buffet was just in time for John to keep his sanity, getting a table for two in a booth off to the side.

When John started to walk towards the buffet after their seats were secured, Davepeta looked prepared to hang back for some reason. Odd, considering how gung ho they were about every experience normally.

“You okay? We could go somewhere else if this isn’t what you’re hungry for.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Really! I’m just…” they trailed off, glancing to the buffet before back to John with an awkward smile. “There’s a lot of things I haven’t tried, so I don’t know what I’ll like or not for sure.”

“Wouldn’t memories of what Dave liked help?” John asked, a little confused.

“Yeah, it’d be a good guideline for what I’d probably like, but my taste buds are different now, remember?” they said with an amused grin. “Dave loves chocolate ice cream and I like strawberry. Nepeta’s favorite flavor was exclusive to Alternia but she likes vanilla too. The things that Davesprite and Dave and Nepeta liked aren’t always what I like. ...And that’s a lot of new stuff to try out.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t gone to a place like this before, considering how much you like new experiences,” John said, offering his hand. “But c’mon, that’s half the fun of buffets! We’ll load your plate up with a bite of everything and see what you like. I’ll just snag what you don’t like,” he offered. That seemed to do the trick, brightening Davepeta back up.

It became an adventure again. Different meats and vegetables were loaded up onto Davepeta’s plate in small portions, the sweet and sour chicken, the sesame beef, the noodles and fried rice. Spicy things, sour things, sweet things, salted things that even John tended to shy away from were added till they had a full plate and were sweeping back to their booth while John got a few of his favorite standbys and followed suit. Their drinks were waiting on them, bubbly cola with straws placed beside the glasses that were already sweating from how cold the liquid in the glass was compared to the room.

John had grabbed a set of forks as well as his chopsticks just in case they turned out useful, but Davepeta seemed to have the hang of their utensils just fine after a few clumsy attempts at picking something up. The motion became more fluid, more experienced, truly the hand of someone who’d lived on takeout for a good chunk of his life exerting some presence from within the amalgamation that was John’s date.

“Ohhh this is good,” they crooned, touching the side of their face after a few bites of one section of their plate, savoring the flavor.

John, charmed, stirred his food for a moment or two to just observe and grin at them before tucking into his own plate. No matter how churning his stomach was with attraction, butterflies aplenty, food was still food and John was still hungry. His focus on the plate and the food and the spectacle of Davepeta discovering and savoring different items on their plate made it all the more surprising when he felt something soft stroke against his calf. ...Tail? It was probably their tail, it seemed to like curling around things sometimes and didn’t seem to have much directionality on its ow- that was a foot. That was Davepeta’s foot stroking against his leg. That was his date’s foot trailing up his leg and over his knee, up to his thigh and back down. Shivering, John stared at Davepeta for some kind of clue, a hint, as to what was happening.

It took a moment to detect the predatory look in their eyes behind their shades, the faint quirk of their lips as they ate and slowed their talking, but once John became aware of it it was impossible to ignore. This was like a game of chicken: the first one to break and talk about the elephant in the room of what was happening under the table lost. John didn’t want to break the magic, and Davepeta seemed to have their own ideas.

The game was on.

“I don’t think I like the noodles much, would you like them?”

“Oh. Yeah uh. I’ve got room,” John said. A bit of sauce and he’d be content to eat them with everything else on his plate. But it was hard to think of food and eating when he felt the delicate stroking along his inner thigh once more, felt the heat rushing to his ears and cheeks as he reached over with his chopsticks to scoop up a bit of the noodles. It took three tries to securely scoop well enough to get the majority of the noodles lifted and onto his plate safely, hand shaking every time he felt the stroking take a long, leisurely trail down or up his leg.

Davepeta, compared to his tense, flushing mess of a display, was calm and collected and attentive as ever. Every twitch, every inch of blushing, was being weighed and calculated like a hunter surveying their prey. They dined on their General Tso’s chicken with their lips curled back into a grin, amused, playful. John didn’t know what he liked more: Davepeta’s chatty and excitable nature, or when they got like this and he knew he was the only thing being looked at in the room.

John managed to keep himself quiet while they stroked at him off and on, stopping now and then to just rest their legs together, other times hooking their toes behind his ankle and positioning his shorter leg how they wanted it before beginning to stroke anew. It became less intimidating, less awkward as it went on, and John found himself relaxing into their touch.

Didn’t stop his brain from wandering, though, right into the gutter. What if it was their hand doing the tracing. What if they didn’t stop at his thigh and went further up? How would they react, knowing he was already half erect just from being teased?

What if it was their lips tracing up and along his thighs...? What if they went just that little bit higher. What would a blowjob feel like from them, all fanged and sweet lipped? Would they tease him as much as they were now, or would their eagerness take over and-

“John, how do you feel about bell peppers?”

Dazed, unaware of how long he’d been staring without eating, John dropped his chopsticks and reached for his drink instead of picking them up right away.

“Bell peppers? Bell peppers. I don’t mind them,” he said. “Do you need them taken away?”

“They’ve got a bit of a weird aftertaste,” admitted Davepeta, picking a few peppers out of their meal to offer to John, who mixed them in with his earlier taken noodles without question.

The teasing trailed off after that, Davepeta slipping their foot back into their sandal, though their tail occasionally made appearances below and above the edge of the table, whipping around and curling around itself when they ate something they particularly enjoyed.

“Wanna get ice cream for dessert after this?” John asked. “I know a place that has really good cones and flavors.”

Davepeta perked up and nodded, beaming. More adventures? More adventures. More things to try and places to go on their date, of course they were game.

“We can fly for that part I think since it’s a ways off from here,” John said. “The shop is kinda crowded, it’d be nice to find a spot to eat them afterwards too.”

“I think I know a few spots,” Davepeta said, toying with a piece of beef before popping it into their mouth, licking their upper lip afterwards. “Think you’ll be able to keep up if I go fast?”

John smirked. “You’re speaking to someone who’s the master of wind, I think I can keep up.”

“Yeah, yeah, heir of breath, blah blah blah. You’re not used to racing against a sprite like me,” they said smugly, playfully preening themselves for a moment before going back to picking at what was left on their plate. “But yeah, that sounds good to me!”

The rest of their meal passed in easy quiet, John winding up comfortably full with room for dessert by the time it came to pay. He pulled out his wallet, but Davepeta was already quicker to pay, leaving him to handle the tip instead. Deciding to be quicker on the draw, John promised himself he’d at least pay for the ice cream once they bought it, to even things out.

They left hand in hand before taking off to the sky, Davepeta unfurling their wings even if they weren’t really needed for flight, with John just glad that he wasn’t attached to his hair looking anything but windswept and messy as a gust knocked them sideways and added a bit of fun to their journey. John eventually pointed down at the top of a specific building, the two of them lowering down about a block away before walking the remainder of the distance on foot, remaining hand in hand. Davepeta’s skin was warm and soft against John’s palm, and all he could do was pray his hands didn’t go sweaty from nerves.

Why was he so nervous? He didn’t need to impress anyone, the hardest part had already happened! Davepeta had asked him out suddenly a brief while ago, and since there was no reason to say no he’d rolled with it. The more he’d thought about where it might lead, though, the more nervous John had grown. Thinking about holding hands had already happened, thinking about their lips and their throat and everything else just made him more and more flustered, yet he couldn’t help it. Everything about them was glowing, and every time they talked it sounded like music to him.

...Fuck, he had it bad didn’t he.

“I think I’m gonna get the toffee and coffee,” John said after looking at the menu. A double scoop sounded doable, plenty sweet and bitter to tide him over. Davepeta took their time looking over the menu before deciding on strawberry cheesecake and a key lime pie flavor, letting John pay as they smoothed a crest in their ice cream with their tongue. They didn’t walk very far before taking flight once more, Davepeta taking the lead this time, tugging John along by the hand towards… the woods? John was surprised by how dense the brush looked, but when an opening appeared, Davepeta began to steer them downwards and he followed without question.

The clearing was pleasant, grasses and flowers aplenty in the open sunlight, fallen trees blocking the way save for deer trails. It seemed deep enough that foot traffic would be at a minimum, if there was any at all that didn’t reside on four legs. All around them was birdsong and the sounds of the forest. Peaceful. Quiet. Davepeta released his hand only long enough to pull a thin branch back out of the way for him to pass with his ice cream, taking a seat on one of the larger fallen logs. How old had this tree even been? Part of John wished he could understand tree rings, or however the heck they figured out the age of trees, just to get an idea of how ancient the fallen one actually was before he’d been able to use it as a chair.

They sat side by side, arm to arm, as they ate their ice cream. Davepeta was eating a little quicker than John, curling their tongue around sections of the treat and pulling them in without getting brain freeze, while John continued to lick from bottom to top to avoid getting the sweet sticky flavors all over his hand. The weather was warm, so activity had to be constant to keep ahead of the melting.

“Hey, John,” Davepeta suddenly said. “...Why did you agree to go out with me?”

“Huh? Well… I dunno,” he said. “You’re sweet, and pretty, and it’s nice to be around you. We like a lot of the same things. And, well. I mean. You asked,” he chuckled. “It seemed like a good move, you know?”

Davepeta considered the answer and seemed to be content with it, continuing to lathe their tongue over their ice cream for a moment before speaking up once more.

“Hey, John.”

“Hmm?”

“What do you think of this?” they asked.

Unable to see what they were speaking about, John turned his head to take a peek, only to be caught in a kiss. It was chilly from ice cream, and a little sticky, sweet with dessert flavors and their own lips behind it. All things considered it was a good first kiss… except Davepeta didn’t pull back after a moment. Instead, they tilted their head and pushed forwards a little bit, catching John’s bottom lip between their sharp teeth and toying with it. John heard the softest crunch possible as his hand tightened on his cone, threatening its stability with his anxiety.

Anxiety? What was there to be anxious about? A really attractive sprite was kissing him and… John sighed out a soft breath and relaxed more, kissing them back.

Ice cream melted down over his fist in thin rivulets by the time Davepeta let him loose, grinning and flushing a gentle shade of green over their pearlescent features.

“...Wow,” John said eventually, grinning. Lovestruck. Fuck, he did have it bad, and he couldn’t care less who knew right then. “Oh, shit,” he hissed upon realizing his ice cream was melting so fast, licking along his fist before stuffing some of the mound into his mouth and biting down. Another hiss and he tossed his head back to huff warmer air as he swallowed the treat down with a grimace, groaning under his breath. “Augh, brain freeze, brain freeze!”

“Hah! Who even gets brain freeze from ice cream,” chuckled Davepeta, taking a large bite of their own quickly melting treat before grimacing and tilting their head back with a quiet groan.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did a certain sprite get brain freeze too? Hmm? After razzing me about mine? How convenient, it’s almost like karma!”

Sulking, Davepeta lapped the ice cream away from their hand before munching on the sweet cone, glad to be free of the pain in their teeth and head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Victory is sweet or whatever,” they snorted.

When John finished his cone, he rubbed his hand on his pants without a second thought to clean and dry his fingers of the residue, then leaned back and looked up towards the sky.

“Hey, Davepeta. Since you asked why I said yes earlier… why did you ask me out?” John asked, glancing over briefly before looking to the sky again. “I mean. You kind of have your choice of everyone in the world, why me?”

“Because I like you,” Davepeta replied simply. “The parts of me like you too, in their own ways, but at the end of the day you’re precious to me. And I wanted to try keeping you by my side.”

Birds sang overhead and behind them for a moment as the air settled between their realities, binding them together in the air they breathed. Davepeta soon scooted closer, twining around John’s nearest arm and resting their head on his shoulder in the quiet peace.

“I was worried you wouldn’t say yes at first. That you’d think I was joking or something,” Davepeta admitted, before grinning up at him. “But then you said yes and it’s been great so far!”

“All we’ve done is eat so far,” John laughed.

“Well, yeah, but we’ve also…” trailed off Davepeta, catching John in another kiss. There was no ice cream to worry about this time, no timer in the back of his head, no cold against his mouth. John could feel the slight cleft of their upper lip, the strong press of their mouth, the soft give of their lower lip as they parted naturally against his own. Instead of teasing his lower lip this time, Davepeta began to press against his side more fully. John felt the push of their breasts again and hitched his breath, but the pressure only increased. Slow and steady, Davepeta coaxed John to the side, getting him to lay mostly on his back on the fallen log as they leaned over him, weight welcoming and warm against his chest.

John’s mind blanked. All he was able to focus on was tactile sensation now, warmth and pressure, birdsong, the feeling of breath against his face, of long legs straddling his thighs and caging his upper body in place. When Davepeta deepened the kiss, he followed without even thinking of it, opening his mouth in invitation and groaning under his breath when he felt the first slip of their tongue against his own. The aftertaste of key lime pie was still there, sweet and welcoming as fingers combed through his hair bit by bit.

Unsure of where to put his own hands, John settled first for resting his hands on Davepeta’s waist, kneading at their hips the longer the kisses went on. Slowly though, ever so slowly, Davepeta lowered a hand and grasped one of John’s, pulling it up further along their long body towards their chest. He hesitated, trying to stall his hand for a moment, but Davepeta’s insistence soothed his concerns. Eventually, John had a hand full of breast he didn’t know what to do with, and broke the kiss to gasp for air.

“I- What’s. Are you sure? I mean, I’m kinda-” John murmured embarrassedly, glancing from Davepeta’s eyes down between them where his hand rested. Further down he was trying and failing to keep his body calm, already half erect again and just fucking praying in the back of his mind that his date didn’t notice how little control he had over himself. He couldn’t arch his back away from them to hide it, after all, the bit of tent was there for them to observe if they moved forward at all.

“If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have put your hand there,” purred Davepeta, grin widening when John gave a gentle, hesitant knead of the flesh beneath the shirt. “Have you got any idea how long I’ve wanted your hands on me..?”

John had assumed things didn’t work like the movies, and yet here he was, with a ridiculously attractive person straddling him and putting a hand on their chest as if it belonged there. ...It did feel pretty damn nice, soft and warm. He understood the appeal of them more intrinsically now, and decided that since it seemed to be okay to be there, that… perhaps he could be a bit more daring. His hand ventured lower again before slipping beneath Davepeta’s shirt, riding up over their pearly skin to the base of their bra and up over the cup. When there was no sign of this being a negative, he bit his lip and slid his fingertips inside the front of the bra, feeling at their bared skin as if he were trying to memorize it.

Davepeta ground their hips down and forwards gently, and John saw white for a moment, hand stilling. Whoops, okay, apparently he was a little more than half erect now. His brows lifted in surprise as he huffed a breath out, though Davepeta merely purred at him again, leaning forwards and down to kiss at the side of his neck, pulling his collar back out of the way to expose more flesh to their mouth. Another grind, and John’s fingers squeezed more firmly, earning him a groan of appreciation.

...Okay. Okay, that was a nice sound, how could he get more of those.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Maybe another time,” Davepeta murmured against his throat, smirking and giggling a bit when John tensed up and held his breath in. “I’m kidding… I mean it, but I’m just teasing right now,” they tried to clarify. “I don’t think either of us are quite ready for that yet.” Getting John to touch a boob was one thing, getting him calm enough to handle a very different set of genitals might be something entirely different. It was hard to tell, really, just how much effort their mutual interests might take to have happen.

That helped and didn’t help, but John’s brain was soon plenty occupied by Davepeta continuing to rock their hips, upper body swaying against his palm and fingers as the breast he’d been teasing slid free of the bra entirely to rest overtop of the fabric.

“Gimme another kiss,” John murmured softly against Davepeta’s pointed ear, free hand raising to comb through their hair when their lips locked once more. All it took was a few strokes to the horn for them to groan once more, deepening the kiss with an eager lick.

The pair moved in tandem easily after that, grinding together at the hip lazy and slow, John kneading at their chest and playing with their horns whenever he could remember to get his hands working, Davepeta bracing their upper body on the tree trunk beneath them and trying to not bite John too hard whenever he broke the kiss to nip and kiss at his throat.

It felt natural.

It felt normal.

It felt like they’d been doing this for ages instead of it being spur of the moment, caught up in one another’s charms so thoroughly that time held no meaning anymore. It was just them, nature, and the sunlight showering down on them from above.

Davepeta gently scratched at John’s sides whenever he focused both hands on their chest or their horns, and outright moaned when he left a hickey on the nape of their neck. He took his time with it, not wanting to hurt them, but also wanting to make it solid, a primal part of his brain wanting to show that not only he’d been there but that he’d been so welcomed there he could take his time and make something like that stand out. When he pulled back to check his work, the top edge of it looked so pretty peeking out over the top hem of the collar that he hummed and ducked down to boldly add a few more pearls to the string he had started.

The grinding eventually slowed to a stop, and Davepeta rolled, dragging John along with them to the ground, soft moss against the edge of the log giving way to the rich looking grass that spread out beyond them like a blanket. Their hair was mussed, their cheeks were flushed, and neither of them wanted to be apart for any length of time. They wound up side by side, watching each other’s face and eyes through crooked glasses and shades as the clouds rolled on overhead. A bird lit upon the space they’d been sitting on, twittered at them till one of Davepeta’s ears twitched, and then flew off once more.

Davepeta smirked, amused.

“...And to think, I thought you might be kind of shy!”

“Me? Shy?” John asked, confused. “I don’t think I’m that shy..”

“Maybe it’s just because you’re smaller than me, you give off this kind of shy air,” Davepeta admitted. “But geeze, once you get used to something it’s like you were made for it!” they teased.

John flushed, but smirked back, crooked teeth giving his face an impish appearance.

“Well. You started it, to be fair.”

“Finished it too,” Davepeta said proudly.

“...Wanna have another date next weekend?”

“Of course!”

“My place? We can watch movies and stuff.”

Davepeta lifted their chin and pecked John’s forehead, right between his brows.

“I’m aware your taste in movies sucks, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to make them all entertaining anyway,” they laughed.

“Hey! I’ll have you know, my taste in movies is fantastic, and your information is outdated! Trust me, movie date will be perfect. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll-”

“Nicolas Cage is banned.”

“...Oh so that’s how it’s gonna be,” John said, smirking when Davepeta laughed again, their voice like bells. “Well how about THIS,” he said, hands jutting out to attack their sides with tickling fingers, laughing when they started to kick and giggle at him, wings flapping a few times behind their body against the grass.

“Uncle! Uncle!! Ahaha!”

John kissed their nose as he stopped tickling them, and settled back on his side.

“Okay, okay. ...But Nic stays. Trust me, he’s worth it. I’ve come to appreciate his work all over again over the years.”

“Whatever you say, John,” Davepeta chuckled, satisfied with how the day had gone. “Whatever you say.”

#davepetasprite^2 #davepetasprite #davepeta #john egbert #homestuck #my fic

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notapaladin · 3 years

Text

so say you’ll stay with me tonight

Because Acatl deserves to be in love, and I felt like cheering myself up by writing fluffy smut.

Also on AO3!

Tizoc is—regrettably—still Emperor today. Acatl’s trying very hard not to let it bother him, but it’s hard not to when the man is coming up with plans for a grand new renovation of the Great Temple and he doesn’t dare bring up all the excellent magical reasons why it may not be a wonderful idea. (Aside from the risk of exposing Coyolxauhqui’s prison to moonlight if the support scaffolding is driven too deep, all the wards will have to be remade and thousands of sacrifices procured, and there’s always the chance of the boundaries weakening with their largest anchor disrupted. Instead of bringing any of this up, Quenami—whose actual job this is—is smugly thinking only of his own prestige, which doesn’t help either the Fifth World or Acatl’s mood. Acamapichtli, of course, remains just this side of useless.)

It’s late by the time they get out of that meeting, and all he can think is that he does not want to spend one more second within the palace walls. He wants his own house, and his own mat, and his—

Well. He wants Teomitl.

In general he doesn’t want to be alone, but in specific he wants Teomitl—wants to wrap his arms around him, hold him close, kiss that soft and smiling mouth. They haven’t put words on what they are to each other, they’ve made no promises, but Acatl knows his own heart well enough to tell when so, so much of it has been given over to someone else. His (lover? friend?) is somewhere in the palace, but he hasn’t seen him all day and he’s seriously debating the idea of going to look for him. Of finding him wherever he’s been spending his time, pulling him aside, telling him…

I want you.

I missed you.

Come home with me.

The idea of that makes his face heat. They’ve stolen plenty of time together, but never has Teomitl spent the night at his house. (He doesn’t count that time after Axayacatl’s death. He’d been asleep for that, and also still so deep in denial that he wouldn’t have been able to find his way out with a tall ladder.) To do that now would be...well. His eyes have been opened, and he’s fairly sure they wouldn’t be spending too much time sleeping.

“Acatl!”

He jolts; he’s been so lost in thought that he didn’t even hear those impatient, beloved footfalls approaching from behind. Something in his heart clicks and settles into warm contentment as he turns around. “Teomitl,” he says, and adds—because it’s the truth—“I was just thinking about you.”

Teomitl doesn’t quite blush, but his smile goes measurably warmer around the edges. He looks good all in red and white, with gold earflares and a simple gold lip plug that draws Acatl’s eye to the curve of his lower lip. “And I was just looking for you. Are you all done for the day?”

“...Unless some emergency beckons, yes.” He really hopes it doesn’t. Duality, just give him one night.

“I’m glad.” And Teomitl draws closer to walk in step with him, their hands almost brushing. “Heading home?”

He nods, and then takes a breath. “Walk with me?”

Teomitl beams, and somehow he falls even deeper in love. “Of course.”

They’re quiet for a while. Part of him is still on a low boil after spending so much time with Acamapichtli and Quenami, and he doesn’t want to ruin this pleasant stillness by unleashing his fury. Besides, walls in the palace always have ears, and he’s sure it would get back to Tizoc somehow. So instead he walks in silence, feeling the warmth of Teomitl’s body in step with his, and he thinks oh, this is nice. (It could be nicer. They could be holding hands. But they have to be discreet, still, and so he can’t risk it.)

(Gods, he wants to see Teomitl crowned.)

It’s not until they leave the palace that Teomitl says, “So. Tizoc’s still going ahead with his...refurbishment.”

Acatl grimaces. “Indeed.”

“Didn’t listen to any of the reasons why he shouldn’t.”

He bites his lip. “...I…”

Teomitl turns to look at him; at first he’s frowning, but then understanding dawns. “...I see.” He looks like he wants to say something else—probably something angry—but all he does is sigh, shaking his head. “I tried too, you know, but he’s only thinking of his legacy and not what it might do to us. It’s probably for the best that you didn’t say anything; he’d think we were conspiring against him.”

Acatl considers this. Looks at him.

Teomitl looks mildly offended. “I did say I’d give him time.”

“You did.” And he slides his fingers against the back of Teomitl’s hand to show he’s not upset, nor holding a grudge. He’d meant it, after all, when he’d said there was no need for apologies between them. It has the desired effect, because Teomitl’s eyes grow warm and bright.

And then he leans in and murmurs, “Unless you’d rather I not.”

“Teomitl,” he huffs, but he can’t be mad. Teomitl’s smiling, after all, and it’s the one that means he’s not entirely serious—that says yes, he might still kill his own brother on Acatl’s orders, but it’s far more important to him that Acatl has asked him not to. “Please don’t.” After a moment’s thought he adds, “At least warn me and Mihmatini first when you do.”

Now Teomitl’s really smiling, though it’s somewhat rueful. “I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else. You know that.”

“I do.” He angles himself as he walks, so that they’re nearly touching, and lets the tenderness he feels color his voice. I trust your words. I trust you. I know you, my heart. And he’s suddenly more than mildly annoyed that they’re still in the Sacred Precinct, because the way Teomitl looks now—softly pleased, eyes shining—desperately makes him wish he could kiss him right here. If he were braver, he thinks he might even risk it; he knows where the shadows of the temple gates will hide them from prying eyes, and he knows how sweetly Teomitl presses against him when he’s pleased.

Though he says nothing, it must show on his face, because Teomitl takes advantage of the camouflage provided by their billowing cloaks to firmly lace their fingers together. His voice lowers, rich with promise. “We should eat dinner before we reach your place, shouldn’t we? Unless you want to cook. I hope you are; we’ll need our energy.”

He knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s blushing. “I. Um.”

“Well?”

“...I leave a pot of stew on the hearth in the morning.” It’s a habit he’s gotten into since Tizoc’s begun these building preparations; they often go long enough that he’s ravenous by the time they’re over, and utterly unwilling to expend any more brainpower on exactly how to fill his stomach. It’s hard to overcook stew, after all. “Though I don’t know if it will be to your taste—”

Teomitl smiles at him. “Acatl. You know my feelings on your cooking.”

He finds himself smiling back. “I still think you flatter me far too much.”

Teomitl pokes his side teasingly. “And I think you underestimate the effects of a meal made with care and devotion by a man I trust above all others in the Empire. I’d eat what you made if it came out as charcoal.”

“Well, hopefully this won’t be that bad.” Honesty compels him to add, “It may be a bit spicy. I wasn’t expecting company when I put it all together.”

Teomitl huffs, “I can handle spice!”

He makes a mental note to serve plenty of flatbread on the side.

It’s not far to his home, and the stew—mostly beans and corn, with a long-simmering and very tough haunch of dog from an earlier sacrifice thrown in to cook until tender—is just about done when he takes it off the fire. Teomitl clearly wants to help, but after a moment’s searching forces him to realize he has no idea where Acatl keeps anything, he takes himself out to the courtyard with a terribly put-upon sigh. It’s adorable. Acatl wants to kiss his cheek.

So when he sets down their bowls, he does. Teomitl promptly blushes, which is so terribly endearing that Acatl has to kiss him again. On the mouth this time, which turns long and lingering before Teomitl slowly pulls away. “Mmhm. Not that I’m complaining, but what prompted this?”

He really only needs one hand to eat, so he’s free to settle the other at Teomitl’s waist and revel in the way the man nestles against his side. (It’s no longer surprising that Teomitl is so tactile, but it will always—always—be delightful.) “...I missed you.”

Because he had. Every time Tizoc had opened his mouth, he’d thought you are unworthy of your crown. Every time Quenami had worn that supercilious smirk of his, he’d thought Teomitl would never let you get away with that. He’d felt himself alone, and he’d wanted his lover by his side. Now that he is, there’s something going soft and warm in Acatl’s chest. They’d definitely be kissing again if it wasn’t for the stew, which he knows won’t be nearly as good cold.

Teomitl presses a kiss to his cheek, which makes him blush in turn, but then he’s applying himself to his dinner. Acatl waits as he takes the first spoonful.

To give him credit, his beloved doesn’t flinch. But he does turn red, and when Acatl hands him a piece of plain flatbread he shoves it into his mouth as though his life depends on it. When he can talk again, his voice is a little rough. “That’s—not bad.” And then, ruefully, “I should have expected that.”

“Mm.” He thinks briefly of seeing whether there’s anything else he could serve, but he knows Teomitl will turn it down. Even now, his lover thinks his own limits are mere suggestions.

It’s a quiet meal. Teomitl settles more firmly against him as they eat, one hand resting lightly on his thigh, and the promise of it makes him shiver. I won’t be suggesting he go home tonight, he thinks, and knows it for the truth. The silence between them feels good—feels comfortable—but though he doesn’t want to spoil it, there’s something he knows he has to say.

The sun is setting, bathing them in twilight. Their bowls are scraped clean, even Teomitl’s. (With the aid, Acatl can’t help but notice, of several cups of water and all of the flatbread.) Teomitl himself is resting his head on his shoulder, looking utterly content with his lot in life. Warm, calloused fingers are tracing slow circles on his thigh. Even the air feels peaceful, with just enough of a breeze to keep them cool but not enough to raise the dust. As Acatl takes a deep breath, he realizes he’s not afraid. Maybe he should be—maybe this is too much, he’s moving too quickly—but he isn’t. Not with his man by his side.

“I love you,” he whispers, and it comes out so quietly that at first he doesn’t think Teomitl’s heard him.

Then Teomitl smiles, soft as the dawn, and breathes, “I love you, too.”

Then they’re kissing again, and this time it’s much less sweet. There is some restraint—while Teomitl’s not precisely shy, he’s well aware of Acatl’s vows—but it’s the easiest and most natural thing in the world to be tumbled backwards on the mat, to have strong hands buried in his hair, to feel the heat and the faintest suggestion of teeth in each press of Teomitl’s mouth down his throat. And yet, for all that, there’s still a gentleness to it, because he’s loved. And better than that, he’s respected. If he asked Teomitl to stop, he knows he would.

He doesn’t think he’s going to ask Teomitl to stop. He arches into another kiss, letting his head fall back, and breathes, “We should...nnh…” Words fail him, because there’s a featherlight press of lips to his collarbone and it’s a lovely little spark of pleasure.

“Mm?”

He shivers in anticipation, seeing the warmth in his lover’s eyes. “Let’s go inside.” He swallows. “If you want to continue this.”

Teomitl pulls back a little to look at him. The smile on his face turns teasing. “Oh, I do. But it’s getting late, and you should sleep.”

He’s suddenly very, very aware of his lover’s weight on him—of the way they’re touching, pressed together from very nearly the waist downwards, and how the building heat in his blood is moving with purpose. He shifts, rolling his hips a fraction, and feels Teomitl twitch in response. “I’m not that tired.”

Teomitl grins, all wicked hope. “Want me to help you with that?”

He sucks in a breath. I took vows, comes his first thought. But it’s followed fast by a second, stronger one—I don’t care. So instead of answering in words, he pulls Teomitl into a hungry, searing kiss.

He’s honestly not entirely clear on how they manage to get inside. While he’d be glad to kiss Teomitl forever, his lover is the sort of impatient man who comes up with plans; they’re barely on his sleeping mat before Teomitl’s scattering their cloaks and working at the knots to their loincloths, letting his hands roam shamelessly over every inch of bare skin. Acatl’s not idle; though he might kill something for a light so he could at least see the unveiled glory that is his naked lover, he’s free to map out the lay of the land with his palms.

And gods, but Teomitl melts into each touch. If he were the jaguar Acatl sometimes thinks of him as, he might even be purring. Experimentally he draws his nails down Teomitl’s back, and is rewarded when he moans into their kiss. “Mmm…”

Then there are warm, calloused fingers trailing down his chest, and he can’t quite muster up the ability to feel smug anymore when they find one nipple and start toying with it. “Oh, gods,” he gasps—he hadn’t thought he’d be sensitive there, but Teomitl is very effectively proving him wrong. He’s been half-hard since the moment his loincloth hit the floor, and Teomitl’s hands are getting him the rest of the way there. It’s even better when Teomitl moves to straddle him, half so they can grind against each other and half so his free hand can skate down the plane of his stomach.

Their eyes meet, and Acatl feels himself flush at the look in Teomitl’s eyes, the one that says without words that there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. When he speaks, his voice is soft. “You feel perfect.”

“Flatterer...mmm…” That one hand is sliding lower, shameless, and he wriggles a little to press their cocks together. He wishes again for light, but smoothing his hands over the solid muscles of his lover’s back and down over his frankly glorious ass will have to do. Teomitl must enjoy it, because his whole body trembles—and then Acatl’s being kissed, long and slow, and he arches with an utterly wanton groan.

“Love you,” Teomitl breathes when they pull apart. “Tell me how you want me to please you.” Acatl has to blush a little at that—it’s hardly as though Teomitl ought to need instruction, when he’s so hard against him—but well, he is asking. He’s owed an answer.

Still, saying it out loud makes him squirm. “...Touch me.” He rolls his hips, and his lover’s eyes spark fire. He doesn’t need to say anything else; Teomitl takes him in hand, and the friction that had been merely good builds into something he can fall into, something that sends pleasure coiling through his veins.

“Like this?” Teomitl’s setting a steady pace, fingers rippling; he needs his other hand to brace himself on the mat, bringing him in range to punctuate his words with a hungry mouth on Acatl’s collarbone. It scatters Acatl’s thoughts to the four winds; helpless, he scratches down Teomitl’s back again, and this time the vibrations of his lover’s moan sinks into his skin.

More, he thinks, and yes. He barely recognizes his own voice when it leaves his mouth. “Nngh, yes—no, wait, wait, I want to—” It’s not a want but a physical need, bone-deep, that has him working his hand between them to wrap around both their cocks at once. Teomitl’s roughly the same size but a little thicker, all rock-hard heat under his palm, and when he squeezes it pulls the most amazingly wrecked noise out of him.

“Oh,” Teomitl gasps. In the darkness, his eyes are wide with stunned hunger; his hips shudder, rocking in unconscious little circles like he’s not sure whether he should be letting Acatl set the pace or not.

“Have to feel you,” he pants. All that stroking had been pleasurable, yes, but he needs to feel it properly when Teomitl falls apart against him, under his hand, sliding past his own cock with each thrust. He wonders, briefly, how it would feel with Teomitl inside him—but then Teomitl’s hand leaves his shaft to slide lower, and the first purposeful caress to his balls makes him whine.

“Hah.” It’s more of a gasp than anything else; even the attempt at a self-satisfied smirk is erased in the next instant, because Acatl leans in to nip at his throat and grinds his hips up, a firm stroke making their cocks pulse in his grip. “Gods, keep doing that—”

“Mmm,” he hums against his lover’s skin. “Is this how you like it?” There aren’t words for the feelings coursing through him, lust and the mounting lightning of his own pleasure mingling with a fierce joy that he’s the one doing this for Teomitl, that it’s his mouth and hands that are pulling such sweet sounds from his lover. A little more, he thinks. A little more. I need to see your face.

He gets his wish a moment later; no doubt Teomitl has a warrior’s stamina, but it can’t last against the way Acatl’s handling him. He gets increasingly vocal as he nears his peak, wordless cries ringing in the night air as Acatl bites at his shoulder. When he mouths a red mark into the thin skin at his collarbone, Teomitl nearly sobs. “Yes—yes, gods, Acatl—” Then he’s coming, hard and fast and all at once, spilling himself over their hands and bodies, and his voice cracks into a desperate keen.

It’s perfect. He’s still unfulfilled, but he almost doesn’t care. Almost. After a moment where Teomitl’s catching his breath and he thinks he might have to seek his own pleasure, his lover is grinning hot and hungrily down at him and oh gods, now that he’s not distracted by what Acatl’s doing with him he proves merciless. He settles back on his haunches, freeing both hands to squeeze and stroke and pump Acatl’s throbbing flesh, and all Acatl can do is take it. “Nnnh, Teomitl, please…”

“That’s it,” Teomitl breathes, and if it wasn’t so awestruck it would be a royal order. It feels like a royal order, feels like the words of the gods themselves when he growls, “Come for me, Acatl-tzin.”

He does. He can’t do anything else. It’s shattering knife-edge pleasure that pulls all his thoughts out of his head; for a small eternity, he can’t even feel his own limbs, lost in the white-hot spasms of his own release. Awareness filters back in slowly; there’s Teomitl slowly petting his thighs, there’s his hands settling at his lover’s hips. And there, shining in the darkness, is Teomitl’s tender gaze.

“...Duality,” he manages breathlessly. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this, but thank You. Thank You for this gift.

“We made a mess,” Teomitl murmurs—and then, with a downright wicked smirk, drags his fingers through it and slowly licks them clean.

Spent as he is, it still makes Acatl’s cock twitch. He has to close his eyes lest he do something that...well, something that seems like a very good idea, to be honest, but his body is letting him know he’d regret it later. He’s not that young anymore. “Teomitl.”

“You taste good.” It’s almost—almost—innocent.

He draws in a shuddering breath. “I need to recover, damn you. Give me a moment before you do things like that!”

“I just wanted to clean us up, but you’re right.” Teomitl kisses him again, slowly, and he can taste himself on his lips. “I won’t tease, love.”

Love. He smiles at that, feeling his face warm. “You’d better not, after being so concerned about my sleep schedule.” It comes out as more of a mumble than anything else; he’s forgotten how draining orgasms can be, especially on a full stomach after a long day. Sleep really is sounding very tempting.

“Mmm.” It’s a warm, utterly contented hum. Even when Teomitl pulls away to clean them both up properly with a cotton towel, he doesn’t go far; indeed, the cleanup itself is slow and tender and interspersed with long, gentle kisses.

Acatl responds as best he can, but he really is very tired. When Teomitl slides his arms around him, it’s all he can do to nuzzle into his chest. “Mmhm.” He feels boneless. Weightless. Teomitl is stroking his hair, and he never wants it to stop. “Teomitl...”

Teomitl’s arms loosen. “I…” he begins.

He knows what Teomitl’s going to say—I should go, I shouldn’t be here in the morning. He knows he’s not going to let that happen. Not after the night they’ve shared; not after the love they’ve shared. “Stay.”

Teomitl stays.

#obsidian and blood #acatl #teomitl #teocatl #not work safe #paladin writes stuff

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nikosomething · 3 years

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Heyyyy! I'm back again. Sorry it took a while to send this ask! Mmm I'd choose the lan sect cuz I need some form of structure in my life lol. I'm not too bad with rules either. But I'd definitely hate their food. I eat wwx levels of spicy and hence I'd like to join the jiang sect haha. Also, their sword forms look nice? YASSS We'd LOOK SO GOOD! 💙🖤 ooh I like what you read. I like reading pining, arranged marriage aus, crack fics, post canon fics, missing scenes, I like canon divergence aus that concentrate on characters other than wwx and lwj. I also like fics with sad endings haha. (1/4)

I'm a big multishipper, too! There's no ship that I don't like? My favorites would be wangxian and sangcheng though. I'm always up to reading these two ships, but I'd read anything really. I feel yah, I do. I can't pick a junior either. I love them all dearly but I tend to get bored if lan jingyi isn't there in junior fics? I need Jingyi to be a major part of the fic if I'm to like it haha. (2/4)

I loooooove Asian cuisine. My favorite is Indian! All that spice, you know? I hope you ate good food since you made yourself hungry answering that lol. Your answer about the seasons is so detailed and beautiful? I love?? Mmmm my favorite season is the rainy season. It's the best. I love the melancholy, the cold and the sound of water tapping against the windows. I'd rather stay at home than venture outside in the rain tho! Winter is the most comfortable time for me, really. I hate the summer! I love the cold and end of the year is my favorite time! (3/4)

Now questions! Have you read any other mxtx works? Also, if you could change one thing is mdzs, what would it be? Do you have any post canon wangxian headcanons? Oooh, what's your favorite wangxian moment in CQL? General questions- do you celebrate Christmas? If you do, are you excited and how do you celebrate? Do you drink coffee or tea or neither or something else? What other shows have you watched except CQL this year? Aight, that's so many questions haha. (4/4) See you soon- 🐰

_______

Heyyyy my dear bunny! I missed ya! But don’t worry, life gets busy sometimes, so take all the time you need <3

Whoahhhh so cool that you can eat intensely spicy food!! I am trying to get used to spicy stuff, but I got a looong way to go haha I detect every gain of pepper or chili or whatever so I am only making slow progress, but I do enjoy spice - up to the level I can take without ending up all red and teary-eyed haha I enjoy good food a lot, too. I like to have some variation so I’d probably be unhappy if I had to only ever eat the Lan cuisine, too hahaha

Ohhhh arranged marriage, people keep recommending it to me - I shoudl really give it a go at some point! Any good fics you wanna recommend? And omggg sad endings!!! Whoah, I bow to you! I’s always pick a happy ending but then again the ending has to fit the need of the story, so I suppose if a happy ending would feel forced then pls gimme a sad one, perhaps even one we can all learn from And yessss, there are so many amazing characters in MDZS I totally get why you’d wanna read about them!! <3

Ah Sangcheng! It’s quite the popular ship I feel. I think it’s cute and a close friend of mine really loves them, too. I bet they’d be excited if I got into that ship as well haha What do you love about Sangcheng? (sell it to meh hahaha, get me hooked) JINGYI!! Yes, he’d the spice we need in the junior fics! He is just so much fun! I think all of them together make such a perfect and well-balanced mix! Perf flavour hahaha What’s it with all the food references here. Am I mildly thinking about food again? Whaaaat Ohhhh Indian!!! (here we go again w the food hahaha) Damn I love Indian food! I cant take the spice so I always go for the noob dished, but they are amazing,t oo! What makes you hate the summer? Do you dislike sweating? You make it sound so cozy ahhh, I am happy we get to spend your fav season together, then, my dear bunny!! I love these timeless days between christmas and the beginning of the new year. It feels like everything is catching its breath and makes whatever you can think of become a bit more possibe

MXTX-related Questions

So far I haven’t read any other works of MXTX, but I think I wanna get to the one with the demonic guy in red and the white soft one next. What was it called? Heaven something? Now TMI tells me ‘City of Heavenly Fire’ which is absolutely not helpful. Uhm.. I could look it up, but then u wouldn’t witness my absolutely entertaining struggle of trying to make my brain work. The Scumbag Self Serving System (did I get that one right) is the first novel if I am correct. And then there is the Heavenly Helper... No... uhm Mysteries of Heaven... Heaven’s Helping Hand... I don’t think it’s getting any better here. I even watched the Donghua trailer wtf why can’t I remember hahaha... Voices of Heaven (that sounds like an American Singing Contest) Okay... imma look it up now. HEAVEN’S OFFICIAL BLESSING! that one. I was so close Have you read any other works? <3

If I could change one thing in MDZS, what would it be? I would want for XXC and XY to not die, thank you. But then again how about non of my baes die? Okay, lemme try again, to get an impressive and seemingly deep reply... Have Meng Yao realise what kind of a horrible butt his dad is early enough to prevent most of the bad things that happen. I am not sure - but what’s your idea on this one?

My favourite WangXian moment? In CQL it’s the one where they are both at the Cloud Recesses, watching the snowflakes dance through the air. Their bond feels so deep there! Or the one where they are at the lantern thing and WWX get’s LWJ the bunny lantern. Just... the pure happiness. Or the one where they are bold husbands and run away from Carp Tower. Is it even humanly possible to pick just one moment?? Which one is it for you?

General Questions

Do I celebrate Xmas? Yes, I do! I go to my mom’s place for Xmas, where we have dinner and then her boyfriend puts on his super old, super old and worn-out Santa clothes (which is very endearing, cause he is always having the time of his life). Then he hands us our presents which are gathered under the decorated Xmas tree and we have to cite a poem or sing to earn each present. Afterwards we all unpack together, excitedly thanking each other, have dessert and then watch a movie or a video of our past christmasses someone put together It’s all very wholesome. How about you?

Coffee, tea or something else? I like Moccachino, cause it’s an amazing hybrid of coffee and cocoa!! It’s best with coconut milk! That kind of coffee makes me feel all cozy and comfy, but I handle it like a treat. I only drink one, while a close friend of mine drinks several cups of milky coffee a day. I also love cocoa, but I drink it like others drink espresso. I tiny highly concentrated cup. No more. Like a shot of chocolate hahaha I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, but sometimes I crave it. As for tea, I looove herbal tea! Peppermint and Fennel Caraway Anise are amazing. Also freshly brewed ginger tea. And green tea with jasmine/flower blossoms or white tea. Big love for these. All of which without sugar so the flavour comes out to speak of its very own beauty I also like mate tea to keep me awake! Otherwise I love water or - omg - freshly pressed apple juice! The! best! Try it if you aren’t allergic! AHHHH that is honestly THE TREAT for me. Rare treat. I don’t even have it once a year. More like every four years or so. But dang. The. best. How about you? <3

Which shows have I watched this year? Many. Lots of cooking shows (on Netflix), cause, you know, food. xD By now I probably know almost all of them. There was a time when I was thoroughly up to date with ALL cooking shows on Netflix. One of my big dreams is being wealthy enough to hire a cook. To cook for me every day. Yes, yes. Otherwise lots of Asian shows. I can recommend:

Hotel Del Luna (omg, do urself a favour, judging from what I know about your taste I think you will like it a lot) also The King Eternal Monarch (good one, very good one)

I also watched Eternal Love and Eternal Love The Pillowbook, which were okay, but they aren’t my favourites Cinderella and the Four Knights was sweet Accidentally in Love was fun but has some major plot holes in my opinion I enjoyed She-Ra Who Are You moved me quite a bit ahhhh Extraordinary You was quite the ride, too!

What are your 2020 shows?

#mdzsnetcc #bunny friend

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hirayaea · 4 years

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ikesen fic - the inevitable correction of treading through time (chapter 2)

Summary: You and Sasuke decide to make the timeline as close to your reality the only way you know how: by making sure the the Tokugawa Shogunate happens, no matter how many tries it takes.

— ieyasu/mc — "Ieyasu-sama has always been so ambitious," Mitsunari's tone is praising, but there is a mettle in his voice you cannot recognise.

[AO3]

[Prologue] [Chapter 1]

正しい時代

"There was a timeline where Nobunaga became Shogun," you tell Sasuke one night, after the adrenaline from the assassination attempt had passed. Ieyasu and Masamune had gone out to reassign guards, and you were left under Sasuke’s care.

The candlelight emphasized the dark circles under Sasuke’s eyes, but still they lit up in interest. “That would be quite a timeline. Nobunaga-sama was known not to respect the authority of the Imperial Court, and being Shogun would have meant he had to be at least civil with them.”

You laugh. “Oh, he still wasn’t.” You remember participating in meetings where the Imperial Adviser would be livid; half the time he would be storming out of Azuchi with smoke coming out of his ears. It was mildly funny until they attempted to burn down the castle.

“The court probably got tired of the power struggle and they poisoned him,” your chest tightens at this memory; Nobunaga was never easy to let go of, and you remember cradling his head on the night he took his last breath.

“It was the sake. From the Emperor himself. Although he probably didn’t have anything to do with it. Ieyasu didn’t sleep for a week, trying to make an antidote,” you pull the memory into color, trying to erase the hurt that overwhelms you as you feel Nobunaga’s touch cradling your face. “But not even Nobunaga is immortal. He told me to take care of Ieyasu because I’m, apparently, the most capable person in Azuchi.”

The purse of Sasuke’s lips are grim. “Nobunaga’s death seems to be a consistent event in all timelines.” He adjusts his glasses. “It is interesting how he always leaves his final will to you, the creator of the original time paradox. By accepting Nobunaga’s death, we bring closer this timeline to our original one.”

You’ve come to realize this truth ages ago, but that doesn’t mean you’ve accepted it. “Ieyasu will never become Shogun if Nobunaga is alive.”

“That is logical.” Sasuke tilts his head. “Will it happen with Hideyoshi still alive?”

You shake your head. “I’m not sure. I’ve never been to a timeline where Hideyoshi died.”

“Historically they both died before the events leading to the Tokugawa shogunate even happened.”

Of course you knew that; it was ingrained in you in every history class: stories about the Three Great Unifiers. The three rays of light of the Sengoku period, whose efforts paved the way to make Japan the country it was in your future. Nobunaga dreamed of peace, Hideyoshi fought for it, and Ieyasu attained it. The political intrigue of the period was the favorite subject of scholars and artists alike. Yet you’ve never heard of the events of your current timeline come to pass. “Did Hideyoshi ever try to have Ieyasu assassinated?”

“Not that I recall. There were rumors that the Tokugawa retainers wanted to assassinate Hideyoshi, not the other way around. But Ieyasu-san wouldn’t have it.”

“Of course he wouldn’t,” you say, because it is the truth. You know Ieyasu best, after all.

別の時代

It was almost winter, and yet Nobunaga has shown no sign of replying to the Emperor.

The Allied Azuchi Forces (a term Sasuke coined) are torn.

Hideyoshi, Mitsunari and surprisingly, Mitsuhide, seem to be all for the idea. Masamune, unsurprisingly, just said he didn’t mind no matter what happened as long as some action came out of it.

And Ieyasu? He was the only one vocally against it.

“It’s not right to go against the Ashikaga at this point,” he explains over dinner. “They’ve secured the seat of the shogunate and Nobunaga has endorsed them. Accepting the Imperial Court’s offer would be dishonourable.”

“Even if it’s the order of the Emperor?”

"They would just think we're making excuses." He pokes at the boiled fish on his plate, tasting a piece before making a face. "Besides, what is honourable is the same, no matter the circumstances or the situation."

You can't help but smile; that was such an Ieyasu thing to say. You open the small jar of spices and pinch some between your fingers.

"Teach me," you say, sprinkling the spice over his fish, "About honour."

Ieyasu scoffs, but you see the embarrassment he is masking. He spreads the spices on the fish using his chopsticks. "What needs to be taught? That's something even a young boy would know."

You glare at him. "In case you forgot, I didn't grow up here," and you make sure to emphasise the words, as if he would forget what they meant. "Besides, my honour and your honour might mean differently."

"That shouldn't be," he says before he takes a bite. You're sure he's content on how spicy it is because he doesn't even glance at the spice jar when you put it down.

You're not sure how to get your point across, so you start with the most uncomfortable thing you can think of: "People during my time don't kill themselves for honour, anymore."

That makes his chopsticks stop in mid-air.

"That just means," he begins, suddenly looking pensive, "That you come from a time where honor can be regained."

Ieyasu begins eating again, but his words have made you pause. “I...” you trail off with a tight feeling in your chest—then, with a burst of color, you recall 21st century Japan: modern, unique, full of opportunities. You think of your first job, fresh out of college, as a clerk in a department store, folding clothes, dreaming of cutting them up and creating something new. You think of your younger self, drawing clothes in the dark corner of a small apartment, knowing someday someone would recognize your work. You think of the day you got transported to the Sengoku, the day you felt your honor was restored because amidst all the discouragement and disbelief, you landed the job you always wanted.

That fateful day, your chest was white-hot with confidence. I'm becoming a fashion designer! But it was more than that.

That day, you felt like you could be anything.

People of the Sengoku had no opportunities to rise to the top. The chances they had in life were decided according to their social class, something unchangeable the moment they were born.

“I never thought of it that way,” you say honestly. "I feel a little silly for taking my Japan for granted."

To your surprise, Ieyasu brightens. "If yours is the future we are fighting for... then these wars are worth it. I would like to see my country have lasting peace, where people can grow and be honorable while being themselves."

The rare, soft smile on his face almost makes you cry.

You take his hand. Your throat is tight, but still you say, "We'll get there."

Ieyasu closes his eyes. His hand tightens around yours.

"Yeah."

正しい時代

Ever since you told them who the mastermind behind the assassinations were, you knew you entered uncharted waters again; a new timeline you have to live through for the first time. You stare at this new Ieyasu, the Ieyasu who proposed his intent make you his wife, and feel the fatigue of time traveling ebb away. All the moments together from this point on feel like accomplishments, and you wonder how much more you need to do in order for this to become your everyday.

Correction: now, you actually know what to do.

You present your ideas to Ieyasu, who, as always, takes working with other people with great reluctance.

"I don't understand," he tells you again, "Why we need ask help from them. They're practically the enemy."

There are many retorts you can say to this, but you choose: "They're not, in the greater scheme of things." You know choosing the high road will win an argument with Ieyasu; after all, he's always righteous... despite the thick sarcasm. "Besides, I don't know everything anymore. The more allies we have in this timeline, the better."

You squeeze his hand, trying to look casual as the two of you wander through the marketplace. Summer rains have made the ground damp and the air cold, but Azuchi is as lively as ever.

You see a familiar stall of women's accessories at the end of the merchant's row.

"Sasuke-kun! Yuki-san!"

As you approach, you see the two men turn towards your call. Sasuke does a small wave. Yukimura's eyes brighten when he sees you, but it all goes south when he spots Ieyasu.

"What the hell is he doing here?"

You hope Ieyasu won't take the bait, but he and Yukimura have always been able to get on each other's nerves even during peace negotiations. "I should be asking you that question. You're the one infiltrating Azuchi."

"Yeah, well, it's not that difficult to."

"Please. You only haven't been captured because you're not worth the time."

"What, you wanna go?"

You know you should break up the fight and tell them to behave, because there are more important things going on right now, but no anger swells in your chest. Instead, you look at Yuki’s scrunched eyebrows and at Ieyasu’s pursed frown and laugh out loud.

“I forgot how similar you two are,” is what you say first.

“W-what are you saying?!” and “Please, I’m not an idiot.” are the responses to your fond declaration. From the corner of your eye, you see Sasuke smile.

“Is this a constant?” He asks you, while Ieyasu and Yukimura bicker in the background.

You close your eyes.

Masamune. Sasuke. Yukimura.

In every repetition, you have determined who to trust.

Masamune would never betray Ieyasu.

Yukimura would never betray Sasuke.

Sasuke would never betray you.

It may be imperfect logic to determine your allies based on what the Sengoku period considers as loyalty, but you remember what Ieyasu taught you: what is honourable is the same, no matter what the situation.

You smile at Sasuke.

Maybe it works the same for a concept like friendship, too.

思い出

The clues that led you to discover Ieyasu's nemesis were scattered throughout the timelines.

In one of the your repititions, you decide to put more of an effort in understanding how Sengoku politics worked.

Perhaps, you thought, having a tactician's knowledge of how clans plotted against each other would give you an insight of who was trying to assassinate your most important person.

Mitsunari was the obvious option for a teacher. It was difficult to explain to him why you wanted such detailed backgrounds on every clan known to Japan, but when you visited him in the Azuchi library, he took the work with his usual academic enthusiasm.

"Ieyasu-sama's history is quite complicated," he begins, "He was sent by his family to become a member of the Imagawa. The Imagawa educated him, but didn't treat him as one of their own. In the end, he felt no loyalty to them, and became allied with Nobunaga-sama because when the Oda opposed the Imagawa."

You nod. You know this part by heart, thanks to Sasuke's occasional bursts of Sengoku 101 facts. Facts about Ieyasu were far by his—and, unashamedly, your—favorite. At the back of your mind, you wonder if you should have invited him when you approached Mitsunari.

"Ieyasu-sama has always been so ambitious," Mitsunari's tone is praising, but there is a mettle in his voice you cannot recognise. "His ideas and leadership prowess cannot be questioned. His strength, however, has always been his patience. He waits for the opportune moment to move. Waits for the right moment to create allies."

Mitsunari stills, and for a moment you think he will hesitate, but with the professionalism of a scholar he continues.

"He also waits for the right moment to betray them."

Every fibre in your body wants to argue, to be on the defensive. However, at this point you knew that any crack in your demeanor could work against you. Against Ieyasu. Instead of making a fit, you clench your hands and rise.

Mitsunari is not wrong.

You knew, of course, that like all clans in this era, the Tokugawa shifted through enemies and allies as fast as gamblers traded cards. Mitsunari was probably referring to the time Ieyasu had fought wars for the Imagawa before betraying them for Nobunaga.

He was called a traitor to Mikawa by many. But you knew the truth. Ieyasu loved Mikawa. His eyes were calmer when he saw the soft light of the eastern sun hit the farmlands. His eyes lit up when he saw the glittering of Aichi's sea.

Out of all his conquests, Ieyasu fought against the Imagawa because he was loyal to the people of Mikawa.

Once Ieyasu decided he would be loyal to something, you knew it in your heart—he would probably be loyal to it forever.

Turning away from Mitsunari, this certainty is what makes you finally say, "Ieyasu would never do that to the Oda."

The silence is thick until you hear him close his book. He settles it atop of the table you both used. When you glance at him, you could see the lines of a general on his face, deep wrinkles of knowledge that were not there before. When was the last time you saw his sweet angel smile, you absently think, as you watch him remove his glasses and stand.

You realise the conversation had turned dark. You decide to change the topic, hoping Mitsunari would accompany you for some afternoon sweets.

The invitation never leaves your lips.

"I believe you," he finally replies, looking you straight in the eyes, "but don't expect everyone to."

正しい時代

"Teach me," You say again, like a lifetime before, "About honour."

This time, Ieyasu's cheeks turn red. You sense his urge to brush you off, but you suppose after his proposal he realises that it would be futile to try and push you away. He lies on his back on the futon you two share and takes your hand from under the sheets.

"Right now, you're chatelaine of Azuchi," he begins, "and Nobunaga has entrusted you with not just the castle, but also the town."

"Well, that would be stretching it a bit," you reply, "He entrusted me to take care of you and the others, whom he entrusted the castle and the town to."

Ieyasu shakes his head. "He sent his will to you, and no one else. Among all of us, that makes you the bearer of his ambitions."

The weight of your role has not been put in words this clearly before, and you realise it is probably because this is the first time you've had this conversation.

Then, he continues, "You, the bearer of his will, and I, the one tasked to accomplished it... we're, well," he looks away, covers his mouth with a hand, and coughs, "involved."

You laugh. "I believe you called me your future wife."

The flush is still on his cheeks. "What? I'm not taking it back."

“And I'm not going anywhere until it happens."

He looks at you as if he didn't expect you to say that, but instead he says, "I know that." Then, still red-faced, he continues, "Anyway. The point is, we both have power in Azuchi."

"Also we're lovers."

Ieyasu sputters, but agrees. "And right now, we're probably the two most influential people in the castle."

You nod; that much was true. With everyone except Masamune back in their own domains, you and Ieyasu made all the major decisions—based on Nobunaga's will, of course.

Ieyasu was getting somewhere with this exposition. "Now, Azuchi has a farm to feed it, an army to protect it, and people to live in it. If you were to give up two of those and only leave one remaining, which one would you choose?"

"That's easy: the people, of course."

"You'd be surprised how it's not so easy for others to make that answer." Ieyasu pursed his lips. "Alright, you've chosen to protect the people. As a leader, that's honourable. What if someone you respected decided otherwise?"

"Well, that depends."

"Depends on what?"

"On who it is."

You can sense his frustration with your tangential answers, but his patience with you does not falter. Pinching his nose, Ieyasu clarifies, "What if it was Masamune? He wants to prioritise the farm."

You scoff, "I don't think he'd want to do that..." but the look on Ieyasu's face reminds you to stay on topic. "Well, I'd fight him on it."

"Good. What if it was Hideyoshi?"

"I'd still fight him on it."

"What if it was Mitsuhide?"

"I'd be scared, but I'd still fight for the people to be the most important."

Ieyasu looked pleased. From his lying position, he turns to you and curls his fingers by your cheek. Your breath hitches as he leans in. You expect intimacy, but instead, in quiet voice he continues,

"What if it was me?"

別の時代

"Run, Princess!"

Masamune's voice is shrill throughout the gunfire. Heat from the flames burn your skin and your senses are overwhelmed by desperation.

"Ieyasu," you're able to shout, "Where's Ieyasu?"

It's not the first time you've been in the heart of a battlefield, but the fatigue is catching up to you. The hands that hold your bow and arrow are shaking, and your lungs feel like they're grating against your ribcage.

Your eyes dart around the area quickly. The smoke is so thick, you can barely see past what your hand can reach.

Panic slowly fills up in your chest.

You're not ready to give up this timeline, you think. You don't want to go through Ieyasu dying again.

"Are you okay?"

Sasuke suddenly appears next to you, kunai at the ready. He casually throws a knife to an enemy soldier five feet away; the knife lodges in the man's forehead, and he drops dead. "Did you get separated from Ieyasu?"

You nod. "When the first gunshot blew up the carriage, he pushed me out of the way. I was with Masamune for a while, but..."

You don't need to say anything more. Sasuke takes your hand and pulls you from the battlefield, into a small clearing covered by trees.

"The next wormhole will appear in Rinzaiji Temple in three days," he says matter-of-factly. As if you were conversing in a safe place, Sasuke cautiously removes his glasses and wipes them against his gi. "If you leave now, you will make it in time."

The suggestion is logical, but you instinctively rebel against it. "We're not even sure if Ieyasu is dead yet," you grit out. "We're so close, Sasuke. Just a little more, and I think I can find out who—"

Several gunshots interrupt your thought, and your head snaps back to the carnage.

You will forever remember that moment. How, with lightning clarity, you saw him. The smoke and the flames parted, and by some god's will there was a straight path from you to Ieyasu. Everything else was white noise. Suddenly nothing else mattered.

You take in his outline: his arm is bent in an odd angle and there is blood spilling from his shoulder. His hands are empty and his sword is nowhere to be found.

He got shot, is what you first think, and your knees automatically brace for a run.

"Princess," Sasuke holds you back, "This timeline may be a lost cause."

You rip your arm away from his grip. "Even if that may be true, I can't just leave Ieyasu."

"The statistical chances of saving him right now are close to zero. However, if we proceed to Rinzaiji and you time jump, we start on a clean slate."

A part of you is angry you are wasting time conversing with Sasuke, but the experienced time traveler in you rationalises the idea.

Before you are able to process any decision, however, you notice there has been a change in the background noise of the battle. A part of the field has gone quiet, and you see three samurai on horses approach Ieyasu.

You feel yourself go cold. "Who... who is that?"

They carried Nobunaga's flag and wore armour so black they would blend in with the night. Their kabuto helmets were the color of a dark void. Their outlines would have been unfamiliar, but you lived long enough in Azuchi to recognise mannerisms and movements.

Your heart cannot believe who they are, but your mind acknowledges it to be true.

You can see Ieyasu's lips moving, can see the proud tilt of his chin stay firm as he speaks to his enemy. His opposite hand is attempting to compress the wound on his shoulder, but the blood gushes out of its own accord, dripping down to the soil. Despite this, he stands up with all the regality and grace you have come to know him for.

Sasuke senses the danger that you refuse to acknowledge. "I do not advise we stay around to watch," his voice is soft as he takes your hand. He attempts to guide you away, but it lacks his actual strength. You imagine he also cannot tear his eyes away.

As the next events unfold, you think of a million things.

Maybe it would be different if you listened to your heart minutes earlier.

Maybe this timeline was the one you shouldn't have given up on.

Maybe you could've saved him.

Maybe this time, Ieyasu could've lived.

You wish you could say you ran to him. You wish you could say you broke through the bushes and tried to stop what was about to happen.

But you did nothing.

One of the samurai drew his sword.

正しい時代

"What if it was me?"

You're not sure if this is a trick question. You and Ieyasu have always been similar-minded when it came to policies, and it was rare you disagreed with each other in a war council.

"I would convince you to see my point," you answer finally.

He shook his head. "Negotiations are noble, but often fruitless. And if I stood my ground?"

You lean into his touch. You're not sure what he wants to prove, but your answer is set.

"I am your future wife. If you go astray, it is my duty to protect the integrity of your ambitions."

If Ieyasu is shocked by your answer, he doesn't show it. Instead he smiles, and it is gentle and true, so much like when he brought you on the flower field and admitted he loved you.

He kisses your forehead.

"Good."

思い出

Everything was a blur after, when you ran towards Rinzaiji, towards the wormhole.

Still, you remember screaming when Hideyoshi took Ieyasu's head.

[/Chapter 2]

[Prologue] [Chapter 1]

#ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #fanfiction #tokugawa ieyasu #sarutobi sasuke #date masamune #ishida mitsunari #sanada yukimura #toyotomi hideyoshi #ikesen #cybird #the inevitable correction of treading through time #psychedelic aya #aya writes

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alwaysgcld · 4 years

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(i am so late with this but i loved learning more about malia and henry so much i wanted to do it too)

The Basics

Name? Benigno Jae Park

Age? 29 30

Approximate height? 6’3”

Hair color? Black

Eye color? Dark Brown

Do they speak with an accent? No

Where are they from? Kingston, New York

Where are they now? Stardew Valley

Backstory

Who are their parents? Minerva Park, Nico Park (née Monti)

What is their earliest memory? Watching his father cook breakfast as he hums along to music he has playing. That is until his mother enters, going for her morning cup of coffee. His father swoops her into his arms, dancing her around the kitchen as he serenades her to Queen’s Somebody to Love. When his mother has to leave, his father scoops Ben up and dances him around instead.

What did they want to be when they grew up? As a young child, a chef like his father. When he got a bit older however, he realized he wanted to be a doctor.

What did/do their parents want them to be? Both of his parents always just wished for him to be happy. His father had really hoped he would end up finding happiness with working in the family restaurant as a chef or in management.

Do they have siblings? Older or younger? Brothers or sisters? An only child.

Do they have or have they ever had children? How many? No children

Do they or have ever had a significant other? Are they still with them? Why? Why not? Yes, he has had two serious relationships in his life. His first one was in high school with a boy named Andy. It lasted for a little over a year, and ended once Ben found out Andy was cheating on him. His second one started when he was in his first year of medical school. His relationship with Perri lasted for five years, and during the last year of their relationship they were engaged. The breakup was a mutual decision. Even so, he was really broken up about it for awhile. He is currently single.

Up until now, what’s the most noteworthy thing they’ve done? To them? To the people around them? He doesn’t think he’s done anything noteworthy yet. But to his family disagrees. He became a doctor at such a young age and managed to graduate top of his class even though he was juggling so many things in his personal life at the time.

Tastes

What’s your character’s favourite colour? Green, specifically darker shades like a pine green. Maroon or like amber is probably his second favorite.

Do they/would they choose to wear a scent? What would it be? Something with notes of sandalwood. Maybe has a specific cologne he wears for work (a lighter scent) and one for other occasions.

Do they care about what things look like? All things, or only some? To a certain extent. He likes to look well put together, but it’s not something he worries entirely about.

What’s their favorite ice cream flavor? Anything with chocolate and/or strawberries, honestly. Also, has a special love for mint chocolate chip.

Are they a tea, or coffee drinker? Or soft drinks, or do they drink a lot of alcohol? What kind? He enjoys tea and coffee, but prefers coffee. Not a huge fan of soda; only really drinks like coke when he’s eating something spicy. Drinks any kind of alcohol. Wine and whiskey are his go to options.

What kind of books do they read? What TV shows and movies do they watch? Mostly reads mystery or true crime novels thanks to his mom. If it seems interesting, he’ll read anything. As for TV shows and movies, he prefers fast paced ones with lots of action. Not a huge fan of shows with lots of drama, like relationship drama, but does watch like soap operas with his nonnina, aunts, and uncles/Korean dramas with his aunts and cousins since it lets him have quality time with them. Plus he gives excellent commentary.

What kind of music do they like? Do they like music at all? Better question would be what kind of music does he not like? That would be country. Ben loves music.

If they were about to die, what would they have as their last meal? Please do not torture him by asking this. He’d never be able to pick a single dish.

Are they hedonistic? In all cases? Or does practicality sometimes/always/often win out? No, he’s more eudaimonistic/eudaemonistic if anything.

Do they have any philias or phobias? Mildly claustrophobic.

Morals, Beliefs, and Faith

Do they have an internal or an external moral code? Sort of a mix, but primarily internal.

To what extent are their actions dictated by this code? Wholly.

Do they believe in a God or Gods/Goddesses/Higher being of some description? He neither has faith nor disbelief in a God or Gods/Goddesses. In other words, he’s agnostic.

Are they superstitious? To a degree.

Do they believe in an afterlife? If so, what’s it like? He believes in an afterlife, yes. He has no idea what’s it like though.

Do they have any specific beliefs that manifest obviously? No.

Are the respectful of the beliefs of others? To what extent? Yes, he is extremely respectful of other people’s belief. Unless they try to force him or anyone else to share said beliefs. Or use them to justify their awful behavior.

Have they ever had to stand up to criticism for being religious? Or not being religious? Well, sort of in a way? It’s a long story.

Would they be more likely to act for the good of the one, or the good of the many? The good of the many.

Relationships

Do they make friends easily? Yes!

Do they have a best friend? He’s the sort of person who has more than one best friend, that’s he acquired during different portion of his life. There’s Mari (his childhood best friend), Oz (his soccer best friend), Emery (college best friend), and Max (med school best friend). Hasn’t gotten that close to anyone in the valley to consider them a best friend.

Can they get people to do what they want them to? If so, how? Yes. Usually just by being his charming self.

Do they have a lot of romantic relationships? Serious, or short term? Hasn’t had any romantic relationships since moving to the valley. He’s serious when it comes to dating, not one for short term stuff.

Do they fall in and out of love easily? No, it takes time for him to fall in love. Even more for him to fall out.

Do strangers and acquaintances actually like them when they meet? Yeah. I mean, what isn’t there to like?

Do they have a network? Yes!

What is their relationship like with their family? Great! He’s close with his parents and his extended family on both sides. Even the part of his mother family that lives in Korea. Not so much with the family members that live in Italy from his father’s side. Not anymore, at least.

Are they still in touch with non-family people they were in touch with a year ago? Five years? Ten? More? Yes. He’s known his oldest friend for at 20 years. It’s hard to get rid of him once you’ve made it to a certain of level of friendship with him.

Do they like children? Do they want children of their own? He loves children. He considered being a pediatrician at one point because of that. Definitely plans to have children of his own one day.

Physical Appearance

How does this character dress? How would they choose to dress, if all options were open to them? King of business causal. Tries to stick with slacks when working at the clinic, otherwise he’s wearing a nice pair of jeans. Seems to always have his clothes layered go to is a pull-over sweater over a button-down shirt. All of his clothes are rather nice. Not exactly high-end, but clearly money well spent. See visuals for his style here.

Do they have any tattoos? What do they mean? Has a tattoo of a larkspur on his left hip. He got the tattoo when he was eighteen with a few friends; each of them got a tattoo of birth month flower. In general, larkspurs denote love, affection, and ardent attachment.

Do they have piercings? How many? No piercings.

Do they have scars? Where did they come from? Has a scar on his right temple from an altercation when he was a teen. And another one on the lower right part of his abdomen from when he had his appendix taken out. Both are faint.

Do they alter their appearance in some way on a regular basis? No.

Is there something they’d choose to change about their appearance if they had the opportunity to? No, not really.

Is there something about their appearance they’re particularly proud of/happy with? His smile.

Objectively, are they physically attractive? Fairly plain? Unattractive? OP says hell yeah, have you seen him??

Do they have an accurate mental picture and opinion of their physical appearance? Yes.

How much time do they spend thinking about their physical appearance? Not as much as one might assume.

General Knowledge

Can they navigate their own local area without getting lost? To what degree? Yes, he is familiar with the town and all the surrounding area at this point of the valley.

Do they know who the top politician or monarch is where they live? What about elsewhere? Yes, he is aware both of where he lives and elsewhere.

Do they know if/where there are any major conflicts going on right now? Yes.

Do they know the composition of water? Of course.

Do they know how to eat a pomegranate? Yes.

Are they good with the technology available to them? Average? Completely hopeless? Very good with technology.

Could they paint a house? Without making a mess of it? Yes.

Could they bake a cake? Would you eat it if they did? Yes and yes.

Do they know how to perform basic maintenance on the common mode of transportation? Knows how to perform basic maintenance on bicycles and cars.

Do they know the price of a loaf of bread? Yes.

Specific Knowledge

Do they have a specific qualification in a narrow area? Yes, he has a B.S. degree in psychology and a medical degree.

Is there something they do or know exceptionally well that most other people don’t? Aside from the doctor stuff? He wouldn’t say he does or knows anything exceptionally more than most people.

Do people often comment on a particular skill or area of knowledge to this character? Behind their back? Usually gets surprised reactions when people find out how many additional skills he has on-top of being a doctor. He’s sure people talk about it behind his back, but he doesn’t care enough to find out to what extent.

Is there an area this character could be considered top of their field or a genius in? By no means considers himself a genius of his field compared to others. He was the top of his class in medical school though.

Have they deliberately sought to gain knowledge in a specific area? If so, why? Yes. He majored in psychology since he was interested to learn more about how the brain works. Minored in dance for fun. And of course pursued a medical degree because he wanted to become a doctor to help people.

Do they speak more than one language? More than two? Why? Is fluent in several languages: English, Italian (due to his father’s side), Korean (due to mother’s side), and Spanish (from taking it in high school since they wouldn’t let him take Italian plus Mari taught him it). Vaguely knows Greek and Latin from medical lingo. Latin is a tad bit stronger because father’s side of family are Catholics.

Does their cultural background effect what they would be expected to know? Yes?

Have they ever been publicly acknowledged for being well-versed in something? Yes, he was valedictorian of his high school class and was acknowledged as top student during his med school graduation.

Have they ever been bullied for knowing a lot about something? No.

Do they actively seek new knowledge, or let it come to them naturally? A mix of both. He enjoys learning more, he’s not picky on how that new knowledge enters his life.

Miscellaneous

What did they have for breakfast this morning? An omelette with a side of fruit.

What ridiculous belief/s did they have as a child? That birds were having an important meeting when they sat in groups on telephone wires.

Do they like marshmallows? Loves marshmallows! Especially toasted ones.

Do they sleep on their side, front, or back? Tends to start off on his side, and end up on his front or back at some point while sleeping.

Do they work better with sound or silence? With sound.

Do they have a strange obsession with something minor? Looping back to the last question, he can’t stand silence. So he always has to have some sort of sound going on, whether it’s a conversation with someone, an audiobook, or music. If none of those are readily available, he will make his own sound which is how he got the habit of singing to himself so often.

Do they like art? He loves art! His college best friend was an art major and he has several of his pieces hanging up in the clinic and his apartment.

How fast can they run? Remarkably fast.

Do they prefer to sit on the floor or on a chair? Honestly, will sit anywhere given the chance, he is not picky.

What do they want, right now? There isn’t really anything that he wants at the moment. He’s content. At least, that’s what he’s convinced himself.

#🎕 about #this has been in my drafts for a week #some of these questions were tough #but it was fun getting to know more about ben

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feynavaley · 4 years

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50 Questions

I took this from @mandelene, thanks for the open invitation!

———

1. What is the colour of your hairbrush? Light brown. (It’s a wooden hairbrush.)

2. Name a food you never ever eat. Well... I’m quite a picky eater but I generally try everything if I’m pressed (even though I end up not liking it). I won’t eat very spicy food though, I don’t have a good tolerance for it. Another food I used to enjoy but now I can’t even stand the smell of anymore – and even less I would eat – is almond paste. (Long story short, I came up with something – maybe labyrinthitis – that made me awfully nauseous and dizzy for a few days. I would throw up any time I even just stood up, I couldn’t eat anything. But my roommate had on her desk and almond paste cake, which has a very strong smell. Since I constantly smelled it while feeling so sick, now that’s what I associate that smell and taste with.)

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold? Generally, too cold. I handle being cold better than I handle being hot, though.

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Translating from English to Italian some stuff my dad needs for work. (He doesn’t understand/speak English.)

5. What is your favourite candy bar? Kinder Bueno, Tronky, and Bounty.

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports game? No.

7. What is the last thing you said out loud? “No, I haven’t seen your glasses. Are you sure you didn’t leave them upstairs?” to my mother.

8. What is your favourite ice cream? If it’s good, Pistachio. It’s very hard to get right, though. Not many ice cream parlours can prepare it well, they tend to make it too sweet.

9. What was the last thing you had to drink? Water.

10. Do you like your wallet? Yes. Actually, I have two – one is a big red one where I keep basically everything, the other is blue and small and I just put in there a few banknotes and coins and the cards I need, changing them every time. I like both of them.

11. What was the last thing you ate? Chicken breast and salad for dinner.

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? Nope. I’ve been confined home for almost one month and a half. 😅

13. The last sporting event you watched? I don’t know. I’m not a fan of sports so I don’t watch anything spontaneously. I only watch something if I’m with somebody who wants to watch it, but I don’t remember when the last time was.

14. What is your favourite flavour of popcorn? Uhh... there are different flavours of popcorns? I only know one... 😅 I’m not a great fan, though.

15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to? An aunt of mine. (My mother’s youngest sister.)

16. Ever go camping? Yes and no. I’ve never gone with a tent in the wild or anything – however, my grandparents used to own a trailer that they kept in a fancy camping location/trailer park by the seaside. When I was a child, I would spend the entire three months of summer break there. I don’t know if it counts as camping, though. After growing older, my sister and I would sleep in a tent instead of the trailer (because the trailer was too small for everybody), but it was still in that fancy campsite which I don’t know how much can count.

17. Do you take vitamins? No.

18. Do you go to church every Sunday? Yes. I mean, not right now, clearly (all the Churches are closed due to Covid-19 lockdown) but I would go under normal circumstances.

19. Do you have a tan? No. And it’s very hard for me to get one, anyway. I’m as white as a person can possibly be. 😅 (I’m paler than an actual albino person I know at work. I wish I were kidding. 😓)

20. Do you prefer Chinese food over pizza? I prefer pizza. Very stereotypical, I know. 😅 (I’m talking about real Italian pizza, though.)

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw? Generally not.

22. What colour socks do you usually wear? White or black.

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit? Depends on where I am and what the speed limit is. I respect the 50 km/h limit inside the cities and towns, but the 30 km/h that can be often found... yeah. 😅 (I’ve never met a driver who respected it, though.) If I’m out of the city and on a straight street across the countryside, I respect the 70 km/h limit but I tend to go faster if there’s a 50 km/h one. (Unless I know there’s an autovelox.) I’ve never gone above the 90 km/h limit, either – actually, I tend to go more around 80–85 km/h on those streets. I should probably also mention that I never drive much above the speed limit, though.

24. What terrifies you? Failure. Hurting or even just disappointing or upsetting other people. On the irrational side, I’m highly arachnophobic and I’m terrified of dogs.(Because I was attacked by a freaking SAINT BERNARD. Luckily, it just got my sweater, but it was completely mauled by the time somebody managed to get it back so... It also turned out I’m mildly allergic though, so me not staying around dogs is probably for the best anyway.)

25. Look to your left, what do you see? I actually don’t know how it’s called in English. I have a sloped wooden roof covering the left side of my bedroom, and I see it along with the skylight.

26. What chore do you hate most? Washing the dishes. Our sink is at a height that forces me to bend in an awkward way and makes my back ache if I have to wash more than a couple of dishes.

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? “OMG what is that person saying?? 😭” I’m not a native English speaker so strong non-standard accents always throw me off a bit, at least at first. 😅 I need a few minutes to get used to them.

28. What’s your favourite soda? Citron soda (I don’t know the brand. It was one my great-grandparents used to have in small glass bottles, it tasted amazing and was so refreshing...), Fanta, or Coke Zero. I don’t drink soda often, though.

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive? I go in. I think there’s only one place with a drive-through in my hometown.

30. What is your favourite number? For some reason, I’ve always liked the numbers 3 and 11. They aren’t my lucky numbers or anything, I just like them. (Actually, thinking about it, I know why I like the number 11... In German, it’s ‘elf’, and I started taking German around the period I was obsessed with LoTR... 😅)

31. Who’s the last person you talked to? My mother.

32. Favourite cut of beef? I hardly ever eat beef (I eat meat about every other day, but it’s generally chicken or turkey breast), I don’t have a preference.

33. Last song you listened to? This one. (You’re welcome.)

34. Last book you read? Fire and Blood by George R.R. Martin.

35. Favourite day of the week? Saturday.

36. Can you say the alphabet backwards? Yes, but only the Italian one (that is missing J, K, X, Y, W). I tend to mix up some letters in the English one. 😅

37. How do you like your coffee? Plain espresso.

38. Favourite pair of shoes? My ankle-height black converse.

39. The time you normally get up? Since the lockdown started, between 8:30–9. I’ve been having trouble sleeping so I’m always tired in the morning.

40. What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? Sunset, the colours are gorgeous. Sunrise is still beautiful and so it’s the atmosphere, but the colours tend to be fainter.

41. How many blankets on your bed? One, at the moment.

42. Describe your kitchen plates. Kind of square, white with blue and yellow stylized flowers in the corners.

43. Describe your kitchen at the moment? Quite empty. We’re due a grocery run.

44. Do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? No, I don’t like any alcoholic drink. For some reason, I don’t like the taste of alcohol. (And there’s probably something genetic here as it’s also true for my sister, my father, and other relatives from my father’s side.)

45. Do you play cards? Technically, I know a few games but I’m not really good at them and I don’t play often.

46. What colour is your car? I use my mother’s car and it’s dark blue. We also have a dark grey car (belonging to my father) but I’ve never used it because it’s very big (you can go up to 7 seats), I wouldn’t feel comfortable with driving it, let alone parking.

47. Can you change a tire? No.

48. Your favourite state? I’ve never been anywhere in the US so I can’t say.

49. Favourite job you’ve had? The current one. The pay is very low so I’ll have to leave it as soon as I find something better, but I love these children so much. 😭

50. How did you get your biggest scar? I actually don’t have any big scar... I have several small ones. The biggest one is probably on my arm, from when I leaned against the toaster to unplug it and got this long, thin burn. 😅

———

I tag anybody who feels like doing this! And please tag me back, I’d love to read your answers! 😊

#about feyna #tag chain

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beardyallen · 5 years

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8 Crazy Nights (Part 1) - Captain Marvel, Work, and Food

Not sure if you all saw, but I tried to write this on Saturday...It did not go well. And now it's two days later, more stuff has happened, and documenting everything seems just a million times more daunting.

Nevertheless, he persisted.

However, I'm learning from my past mistakes and posting this in several pieces. Hopefully this isn't being read out of order.

If memory serves, and my memory is sufficiently muddled after the celebrating yesterday, I left off on Thursday, March 7th. The next day, I spent a goodly portion of my day in my office, cracking away at my random pedigree generator algorithm. Super (duper) exciting stuff, I know.

But R showed up that night to go see Captain Marvel at the nearby mall! And, as is apparently tradition when you visit someone's apartment, she brought me a gift. And what sort of gift do you bring a guy like me, you ask? Authentic German beer, obviously! Oh, and mangos, as I had divulged that I've only ever had dried mangos and mango-flavored things. Sadly, the mangos are still sitting in my fridge because I'm not entirely sure how one is supposed to eat them. *shrug*

The mall itself is quite strange (from my limited perspective), and I don't think I've described it yet. In a standard American mall, the jewelry shops are always on corners; here, the jewelry shop (as well as several other shops) are posted up with no walls in the middle of an open space. And approximately 25% of the shops are bakeries or coffee shops. This place really knows how to entice your sweet tooth! R picked up some mini cheesecakes for the trip the next day!! Super (duper) yummy!!

One of the other interesting aspects of the first floor is the manner in which one would buy shoes (there are like...10 "shops" that sell shoes). Once again, the shops have no walls, so you just kind of wander over to a display, the attendants hover around you to see if they can help (presumably?), and after you've picked your shoe, they give you carbon paper with an order, you walk to a desk 5 shops over to pay, then carry the receipt back and attendant who was helping you wipes off the shoes again and exchanges them for the receipt. I suppose it keeps clutter down and eases the shopping experience if you're trying on shoes from different displays? When I bought shoes a few weeks ago, it was quite an ordeal given that I had no idea what the expectations were and we couldn't really communicate with anything other than hand signals, nods, and shrugs.

The second (of five) floors has the supermarket and a plethora of men's clothing shops, half of which are athletic-themed shops like New Balance, Adidas, or knock-off-Air-Jordan, and the other half are more "high-end" clothing shops. Nothing in between. Oh! And more than 80% of the models in the pictures and spreads on the walls are white. Not sure how effective that is when 95% of your clientele doesn't look like that. *shrug* There _does_ seem to be a strong desire here to appear Western, but still...

The third floor is mostly women's clothing, and the fourth floor is partially empty. But the fifth floor has the cinema and food court. One comment about the phrase "Chinese food"...It's immensely inadequate. I don't know how many different cultural regions there are in China, but there's for sure at least 6 unique cuisines, all tied to a particular region. And when I say 6 _unique_ cuisines, even my uneducated, narrow American perspective (and palette) can distinguish between them. That, to me, is probably the biggest problem with describing a restaurant in the States as serving "Chinese food." But hey, I'm just an ill-informed American, so my opinion probably doesn't carry much weight.

The cinema itself was quite impressive as well. You know how when you walk into a cinema in the States, and you get hit with that theater-popcorn smell? It's buttery and savory and only sometimes kind of stale? Well, that didn't happen here. And not because they don't have popcorn, or that they don't serve as much popcorn...I think it's mostly because, as seems to be the case with everything here, the popcorn isn't of the buttery, salty variety. No, this popcorn is green or pink or caramel covered. Drizzled with chocolate syrup or some other sort of confectionary (is confectionary a real word?).

Oh, and it's not just the popcorn that got a make-over. The nachos here are...borderline unrecognizable. And that's not the say that you wouldn't recognize what was placed in front of you, because I think you would, but you just wouldn't recognize it as "nachos." Instead of warm tortilla chips with a cup of hot, sometimes-mildly-spicy cheese sauce and jalapenos and other nacho toppings, here you get a bowl of...warmed up Doritos. That's it. Just Doritos. That have been sitting under a heat lamp. R ordered them and offered me some. I said thanks-but-no-thanks. It was a strange experience, watching someone happily munch on heated up Doritos.

Captain Marvel was exceptional, though! The classic Marvel opening was modified a bit for this film, and if you've seen the movie, you know what I mean. For sure shed some positive number of happy-sad tears. The actors were all exceptional, and I was thoroughly impressed to see how seamlessly the special effects made it look like Samuel L. Jackson was 25 years younger and had both eyes! Crazy!!! Also seeing Phil Coulson return to the big screen was dope, and I loved the post-credit scenes! The music was perfect, too! I just wish the theater had the volume high enough to trigger the strong emotional reactions I'm used to feeling in Marvel movies.

After the movie, I stopped by the beer shop across the street where I met The One to buy a couple bottles of Founders beer. I swear, I had ever intent of enjoying them on St. Patrick's Day...but one of the two was consumed a couple days later, and the other wasn't opened until I got back from the celebration yesterday...and I don't think I would have really been able to appreciate the KBS in that particular state. So I have that to look forward to when I finish teaching tonight!

The next day was spent traveling with my coworkers to the Great Wall, and this seems like a decent place to pause the narrative.

Actually, we'll skip the Great Wall for a minute, and I'll describe the past week. It wasn't terribly eventful, but there are a few mildly-interesting pics. My work week consisted mostly of prepping my students' first exam, along with a practice exam (which I don't like doing, especially at this level). In fact, on Friday, after I finished writing and testing my random pedigree generator, I spent a good portion of time trying to get the numbers of a particular probability problem to work out.

I totally don't look like a crazy math fanatic at all..

When I wasn't working, I spent much of my time reading or playing video games. There's a Communications grad student here who also plays Super Smash Bros. We intend to maintain the friendship State-side as he has a few gamer friends in Denver who play SSB as well. And who have guessed that Petey Piranha would actually be an entertaining fighter?! Like..he's a glorified potted plant, but his attacks are interesting, effective, and rather distinct (see: he's a potted plant). *shrug*

Several of those nights involved take-out from KFC...which just released a new item. Or at least new to me. You'll note some orange fibrous material on the top, some sort of white cream in the middle, and the base is a waffle. Cuz nothing says "Kentucky Fried" quite like whatever the hell that is...(Not that KFC can even call themselves Kentucky Fried, nor is their chicken even real chicken! Sorry guys, someone's gotta say it!! lol)

The waffle itself is quite sweet, as is the white cream. Not sure the intended flavor of the cream, but my best comparison is the sugary drizzle stuff you put on toaster streudels. Struedels? Strueueudels? Not sure how to spell that, and Googling it would require a smoothly operating VPN which I just don't have the patience to deal with right now. And the orange stuff on top? It's dried crab. Which I knew in advance as I'd had it on the hike to the underground river and caves. All-in-all, it surpassed my expectations, but I don't think I'll get it again...

Oh, and dinner on Friday night consisted of lamb spine. Yup. The spine. Of a lamb. Technically, it was lamb spine hot pot, but let's be real: the stand-out contributor isn't the heat or the pot or the brine. It's the spine.

You can see a bunch of vertebrae just boiling away in there. You still use chopsticks, but one of your hands has a plastic glove. Oh! And you can push your chopstick through the hollow center of the vertebra to get at some of the marrow and what we could only assume was part of the spinal cord. I ate mine, but the only other person who was lucky(?) enough to find one didn't partake.

Other than some rather standard beer, CB ordered us a bottle (half a fifth) of some sort of herbal liquor. E, another instructor, mentioned a commercial for the product which seemed to suggest that this was the perfect gift from a marrying-age girl's new fiance to her father upon their first meeting. "Made for the man!" It was somewhere between a whiskey and an amaretto, but the sweet taste was distinctly floral or herbal or something. It was pretty good! Definitely something you sip to enjoy.

I have one more food experience to share, but it fits better in a different part of the story, so I'll stop here and pick up with The Great Wall in my next post.

Sláinte,

BeardyAllen

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iwillhaveamoonbase · 4 years

Text

Replay ch. 1

Did I start yet ANOTHER AU? Yes, I did. Callum, Ezran, Soren, and Claudia run a popular YouTube channel while Rayla is a lawyer that Callum asks to model for him. Plans for the fic to be rated E down the line.

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

Callum smiled as he sat in front of the camera, Ezran, Soren and Claudia to his side. “Hello, everyone and welcome to the first video of our new channel. My name is Callum Evans.”

“I’m Ezran Williams.”

“Soren Ricci,” Soren winked at the camera.

“And I’m Claudia Ricci.”

Callum nodded. “And we are going to be trying spicy snacks.” Soren and Claudia immediately paled. “We saw the video the Try Guys did and me and Ezran said ‘there’s no way half of that is that hot.’”

“Nope,” Ezran shook his head.

“And I know what you’re thinking, ‘what do you four know about spice?’ Well, first, Ezran and I are actually half-siblings. Our mom and aunt are half-Thai and half-Korean, and if you know anything about Thai or Korean food, it’s really spicy. My dad was mostly German and Irish, but he spent a lot of summers in India and the Sichuan area of China due to his parents’ work as translators. So, there’s that spicy food again.”

“And my dad is half-Jamaican and half-African-American. If you’ve never had Jamaican food, it uses a lot of herbs and spices to make everything on the flavor profile. My grandmother, in connecting to her roots, started getting really into traditional African cuisine which tends to involve a lot of chili and warming spices. Also, our aunt is married to a lovely woman from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, so we’ve had lot of Congolese cooking as well. The ultimate comfort food in our house is probably a West African spicy peanut soup.”

“If you’ve never had it, go make some right now,” Callum nodded.

Soren gulped. “Claudia and I are terrible with spicy food. I am also mildly lactose intolerant so I really hope there is no cheese here.”

“Hate it,” Claudia said. “I like a good cake or ice cream.”

“Clauds is super into dessert.”

Ezran smiled. “As am I. My favorite flavor profile is sweet. I got our mom’s sweet tooth. While Callum’s got a thing for spice.”

Callum nodded. “My step-dad, Ezran’s dad, not only grew-up on Jamaican and traditional African dishes, he also grew-up with Brazilian neighbors who would bring traditional Brazilian barbeque, called churrasco, to all the neighborhood cook-outs. Well, let’s stop talking about it. Let’s get down to this. We have all ten items the Try Guys used-”

Claudia gasped. “Please tell me you didn’t get those rock candies!?”

“Of course, I did!” Callum set all the items on the table in the box he had put them before pulling out the candies.

Soren groaned. “NOOO. We’re gonna die.”

Ezran sniffed. “No, it’s a psychological thing where your brain is saying it’s on fire.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

Callum smiled. “Let’s do this! First,” Callum took out the Cheetos, “Flaming Hot Cheetos. The Try Guys didn’t use the chili lime ones, which I find a shame, because there’s more flavor in those even though they aren’t quite as spicy.”

“I agree,” Ezran said as he opened the bag. “Chili lime is a classic flavor combination. Put it on mango and I am pretty happy.” The bag was passed and they all tried one. “Not spicy at all.”

Callum ate another. “Nope. They’re good, but there’s no real heat there.”

Soren groaned. “This is perfect for me. It’s got a bit of heat, but it’s not overwhelming.”

Claudia nodded. “I agree. I don’t want to go hotter.”

Callum shook his head. “For those of you who are wondering, Soren and Claudia are siblings and childhood friends of me and Ezran. Their dad and our dad are best friends. But, when they come over for dinner, our family has to seriously downgrade the spice level or else these two freak out.”

“And,” Ezran interrupted, “when we go to their place, we have to bring our own hot sauce. Well, that’s mostly Callum. He carries hot sauce in his bag.”

“That’s because mango chutney doesn’t travel well.”

“See, mango chutney is almost going into too hot territory for me. At least, the brand Callum buys is.”

“That’s because I buy authentic and get it shipped directly from a company that makes traditional chutneys here in the States. Next snack; Takis Fuego.” Callum held up the bag. “This time, we got the chili lime!”

“Chili lime!” Ezran pumped both his arms up.

Callum opened the bag and took one, passing it to Ezran before moving it on to Soren and Claudia. “What I taste most is that lime flavor, which is fine with me. I want it hotter, but I love lime, so I’m not complaining.”

“It’s not bad,” Claudia affirmed. “I actually do like this. Like you said, that lime is what’s really hitting, but the spicy is there.”

Ezran hummed. “Can I have the rest of the bag when we’re done?”

“Sure.”

Soren blinked a bit. “I think it’s spicier than you guys are giving it credit, but it’s pretty good. I would take that lime flavor over the chili.”

“It adds to it Soren.”

“Chili is pain!”

“Life is pain!” Callum retorted.

Claudia rolled her eyes. “Not another ‘Princess Bride’ reference. You watched it once and you wouldn’t stop quoting it.”

“Inconceivable.”

Ezran raised a brow. “‘You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.’” Callum laughed, high-fiving Ezran as Soren and Claudia watched on.

“Nerds,” Claudia and Soren sang out.

“Proud of it,” came Ezran and Callum’s reply.

“OK,” Ezran said. “What’s next?”

Callum looked at his notes. “Pulparindo! Tamarind candy.” Callum handed each of them their own packet. “It’s kind of like a fruit leather.”

They went through all the snacks, Soren and Claudia progressively begging for milk as they went. “MILK!” Soren gasped on the Carolina Reaper jerky.

“You’re lactose intolerant, Soren,” Claudia coughed.

“MILDLY.”

“You guys got soy milk?”

Callum nodded. “I keep some in the fridge in case Aunt Amaya comes over.” Soren ran for the fridge in Callum’s house. They weren’t planning on saying anything if the channel continued, but they were currently in Callum’s father’s childhood home. His grandparents rented it out to him for school because they had moved into a retirement community. He had completely renovated it and now had this room designed just for these videos. “You OK, Soren? We’ve got one last item, the Sonoran Spice Company’s Carolina Reaper Pebbles.”

“NOOOOO!” came Soren’s scream from the kitchen.

Ezran started laughing, taking a handful of the leftover Takis. “Come on, Soren! You’ve come this far.”

Claudia looked close to sobbing as she looked at the snacks on the table. “It’s so hot. I can’t taste my own tongue.”

“You can’t taste your tongue, Clauds.”

“SHUT UP.”

Ezran laughed at the two as Callum snuck a few Takis for himself. “For those of you at home, there is no denying that that jerky is hot. Callum and I just crave the heat while Soren and Claudia do not.”

Soren finally came back, sighing as he looked at the camera. “I’m gonna die.”

Callum opened the candy, pouring a few into his hands and passing it over to the others. Ezran took more while Soren and Claudia each only took two. “That’s all you want?” Callum asked.

“YES,” came the combined response from Soren and Claudia. The four put it in their mouths together. Immediately, Soren and Claudia freaked out, reaching for the white bread Callum had brought them earlier. Callum and Ezran coughed a bit, but, for the most part, they had built up a tolerance that didn’t make it as painful as if they had gone right to the candy.

Ezran nodded. “It’s hot. No denying it. But, I think the jerky was hotter.”

Callum nodded as well. “No doubt, jerky was a bit hotter. But I picked the candy last because of how the Try Guys reacted to it. I was wondering if maybe it was the hottest thing.”

“It’s too hot,” Claudia said around a mouthful of bread. “It’s like torture.” Soren whimpered in response, gulping more of his soy milk.

“Well, I guess that’s all the time we got. Please subscribe to our channel as we continue to, most likely, eat food or, maybe just do whatever we want. ‘Til next time.”

Soren turned to Callum. “Why do you get to do the sign-off?”

“Because this was my idea.”

“You almost killed me!”

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

Rayla snorted as she walked into the cheese shop with her coworkers. Maybe it was Runaan’s influence, but she was a bit of a cheese snob. Scottish food was mostly friend, but Runaan had grown up in England and spent a few years in France, leading to strong feelings about what made a good cheese, but she had not been impressed with any of the cheeses her coworkers considered ‘good.’ “I’m telling you, you have to go to an actual cheesemonger. The grocery is not good enough. At least go to a delicatessen.”

“Rayla, we’re lawyers. We don’t have time to go to a cheesemonger and have them select a variety of cheeses for us.”

“We do blue sky, fraud. We have time.” Rayla walked in, making sure her suit was still well-pressed. She didn’t like a wrinkled suit when she paid good money to get it dry-cleaned. When they looked around, they saw a group of four at a table, several cameras around them and a few people also there. Her cheesemonger, Marcos, was talking to them. She saw a jar of one of her favorites, Meredith Dairy Marinated Goat, on the table. “The kind they have on the table? It’s really good. Spreads amazingly on bread.”

One of the guys at the table, a young man with green eyes looked over and did a double-take. She made eye contact, slightly startled by just how green his eyes were. The rest of the table looked over at the group, a few jaws hanging open. Marcos smiled over at her, walking over. “Rayla! Sorry, we’re filming a video right now. Did you want to get your usual?”

“That’ll work. I was hoping to convert my coworkers to actual decent cheese because if I went to one more office party where someone brought an unaged cheddar and no other options, I was going to lose my mind.”

“Got it. Let me go get that cheese for you.”

Rayla’s coworker raised a brow. “Now what?”

“We go back to the office and try it. Because once it gets home, it’s not leaving my apartment unless it’s part of my lunch.” Rayla walked around the shop, ignoring the video going on until she heard some hissing. She turned her head, making eye contact with the boy from before again. He gulped, walking forward. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of her coworkers, Kasef, glare at him. “Back off, Kasef,” she muttered to herself.

“Hey,” the guy stuttered a bit as he made it to her.

“Hello,” she answered. His eyes went wider, probably at her distinctly Scottish accent. “Yes, my accent is real. I grew up in Aberdeen, Scotland. Can I help you?”

The boy flushed. “Yes, actually. My name is Callum Evans. I’m an artist and I would love to paint you.”

Rayla tilted her head. It was a unique come-on. “What’s that video your doing? Art?”

“YouTube. It’s a thing I do with my brother and my childhood friends. Being an artist isn’t the most lucrative thing if you don’t do graphic design. I do commissions and try to sell my art, but there’s always low points. YouTube helps off-set that.”

“Fair. YouTubers don’t really have a good reputation.”

“I know. We’re not involved in any of that drama or crazy stuff going on. Claudia does make-up, but, she mostly sticks within our circle of food YouTubers.”

“Mostly food?”

“Mostly food.”

Rayla nodded. “How do I know you’re an artist?”

Callum reached for his phone. “Here’s my Instagram and a couple of my sketches that I haven’t posted yet.” He handed her the phone for her to look through.

“You sure you trust me with your phone?”

“Not really, but I’m a stranger asking to draw you. Some level of give and take has to happen here.”

“I agree.” Rayla went through his art, humming as she saw the variety of subjects, though he tended to focus on people. There were a lot of pictures of the same three women. “You like drawing women?”

“That’s my mom, my aunt, and my aunt’s wife. You’ll also see pictures of my grandmothers and Claudia.” Rayla looked closely at a few of the pictures. She could see the family resemblance between him and some of the women, particularly in the jawline and cheekbones.

She paused on a picture of one of the women he looked like and another one of the three he drew often. They were smiling at each other, flushes on their cheeks. “This picture is beautiful.”

“Thanks. That was at their engagement party.”

“I’m sold.”

“Really?” Callum asked, looking like he couldn’t believe she would say yes. She couldn’t believe it either.

“I have four parents. My biological parents are bodyguards for a member of the royal family and were travelling a lot so I was raised by their best friends, Runaan and Ethari. I got a lot of teasing as a kid for having two dads. If you can draw these two as unabashedly in love as you do, I’m sold on you as a person. I’m Rayla Burrows.” She stuck out her head, giving a slight smile as a he took it. “You have a decent grip.”

“My step-dad taught me how to do a good handshake. Can I have your number so we can plan this?”

“Do you have a studio?”

“Yes…in my house.”

Rayla paused. “Would it bother you if I asked someone I know to come?”

“Not at all. Whatever makes you comfortable.” They exchanged numbers and Callum walked off, looking back at her every few moments. Marcos finally came back with her cheese, smiling. As she walked out of the shop with her coworkers, she cast one last look at the group. Callum Evans…interesting.

#rayllum #rayllum fanfic #tdp #the dragon prince #au #moonbase fanfics #replay

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