Was there any foods that Reader got really grossed out by during her pregnancy with Lulu? Like the pregnancy hormones made her gage at the scent of.
Food is an important part of life and I would even say love in Qifrey’s atelier. Can only imagine the anguish Qifrey would suffer if his cooking made his beautiful, wonderful wife gage at. Olruggio would absolutely be snicking at Qifrey’s suffering, at least till it’s his turn with the rejection.
The girls would be entertained by the silly show Qifrey puts on
You know that pot of perpetual stew that Qifrey has going? yeah she wanted to throw that shit out of the window by the 3rd month of her pregnancy. She was actually contemplating destroying the seal so it would actually spoil and he would have to get rid of it. The smell of it made her sick and the fact he kept it on the kitchen counter and served it pissed her off so bad she was so close to getting the divorce papers.
She was being dramatic and it was the hormones making her act crazy but that soup was her enemy for a long time.
Her other issues with food come and go honestly, there will be days she's crying because something smells so good and there will be days she wants to air out the entire atelier because someone cooked like eggs.
The girls were concerned at first but when Olruggio explained what was happening they found great hilarity in Qifrey having to run back and forth from the kitchen with different plates to find something she would eat. He would just get increasingly frazzled with every exit and entry.
Qifrey also had to deal with the weird pregnancy cravings, and he would drag olruggio into it whenever he could.
"Why are we up at 3 in the morning, looking for herbs in the middle of the forest." Olruggio asks,
"She wants bacon wrapped bananas with garlic and cinnamon sauce." Qifrey says as he lays a few bulbs of garlic on top a cloth. Not the weirdest combo you've craved but it was questionable.
"...and I want to sleep," Olruggio says.
"You weren't sleeping when I came and got you."
"That doesn't matter, its the principle." Olruggio bites.
"Well, if we don't make this, I'm confident she will kick us out of the house."
"...fine, what do you need me to do."
Olruggio guess what buddy you get to deal with it to
i think there is a phenomenon where sometimes a trans person will go “hmm. i am treated as a man when it is convenient for others, and a woman when it is convenient for others, and often as a freakish third thing excluded from the advantages of both. surely, because of the gender binary, the Other Type of trans person experiences the opposite: they reap the benefits of maleness and femaleness at once.” like babes no they can do it twice
This applies to a bunch of other subgroups of the queer community too. Asexuals are made to feel like freaks for not being sexual enough by the same society that makes everyone else feel like freaks for being too sexual. Lesbians feel pressured to be bi even while bi women feel like they'd be more accepted if they were lesbian. Butches, femmes, and wlw who are neither are all made to feel like they're doing it wrong. PLUS unique facets of shittiness for every shade of non binary PLUS different attitudes towards mlm and wlw PLUS divisions within mlm spaces etc etc etc. And these frictions and differing needs and experiences are absolutely worth discussing, but every time we decide the problem is just that Those Other Queers have it easy we are making the actual problem worse.
Hilariously, it also happens within the asexual community as a function of even smaller identity microcosms; I grew up watching waves of this crash back and forth on AVEN back in the day.
First base is wearing your enemy's coat second base is him dying for you. Third base is him biting your neck fourth base is memory loss fifth base is dying for him in turn
diva im sorry but hear me out i need to put my two cents on shin rq
I’m genuinely wondering what his perfect digits will feel like in my mouth while my tongue attempts to memorize the shape and feel of his oh so pretty fingers before closing my mouth on his fingers and sucking it like a lolipop
how about i tell you, precious anon.
we all know now that shin isn’t the innocent boy we all think he is.
shin is a freak, and he loves to use his fingers on you.
from wrapping them softly around your neck, feeling all over your curves on your delicious body, or combing them through your hair while you take his dick, so happily, like the good girl you are.
you love when he uses them to finger you so fucking good. in the way that literally makes you lose your breath and speak gibberish to him.
but it drives you even crazier when he removes them and gives you that knowing look, with that boyish grin on his ridiculously handsome face, “open, baby.”
you oblige immediately. you let him tease your bottom lip a little. letting him, gently, drag his thumb across it. then, he’ll pull down on it slightly, with the same thumb; just enough so your mouth opens up a bit.
and then he slides his digits in, and you let your mouth close over them.
he’ll moan and squirm as he feels your tongue swirl all over his precious fingers, as though it’s the last time you’ll ever be blessed with such an opportunity. “yeahhh, baby. just like that, mhmmmm.”
it makes his dick hard, when you guys look in each others eyes as you suck on his fingers like it’s his fat dick.
“mmmm,” you’ll moan around his fingers, amused by his reactions.
you’ll be making sure you lick and suck all of your juices clean off his fingers.
you love how helpless he looks when he looks at you, jaw slacked while he lets you go to work.
you get ridiculously wet when he shoves his fingers in your mouth, and you KNOW he loves it too.
How likely are you to survive a zombie apocalypse with Genshin men.
Featuring almost all genshin men with exceptions
Assuming you guys are married. It’s just you two and no one else together (except Varka I guess). You’re a normal person without a vision. In some you wonder around while in others you stay in one place. Depends on the character.
Surviving
No brainer. They are helping you survive. You can be dead weight and it wouldn’t matter. He definitely pulls more night watch than you do. He takes on majority of the work. Does it get exhausting? Yes, but seeing you safe makes it all worth it. He will be the main person looking for food, killing zombies, etc. Sometimes you’ll just sleep on him while he’s on watch and he’ll gently stroke your back as you do.
Kinich, Diluc, Flins, Cyno, Tighnari, Illuga (1)
Surviving not because of their strength but because of their intellect. He knows exactly where to go, exactly how to act if something goes wrong, and exactly where to look for food. Sometimes you forget that you’re in an apocalypse because you don’t feel as though you are as stressed as you should be.
Surviving because they are really good fighters. You guys are the wandering type. The group that never stays in one place. The amount of times you guys have been surrounded and still made it out is insane. You’re lucky you’re married to them and not a zombie against them.
Surviving because you guys were lucky. They have a few talents that came it handy (ex. Their medical or food knowledge) but you guys definitely wouldn’t have survived had you guys been in any super dangerous situations.
Bennett (ironically), Baizhu, Gorou, Mika, Ororon
Survived but it was really stressful. You guys struggled most of the time. You both will probably never mentally heal from this. You’ve gone hungry, fought zombies, and walked until your legs gave out. You can’t count how many times your lives have flashed before your eyes. If not for each other perhaps you guys would have stopped trying a long time ago.
Lyney, Kaeya
Not Surviving
You guys died from starvation/ thirst. You tried to stay optimistic. He tried to keep you fed but you guys simply couldn’t find enough supplies. You were able to escape the zombies but in the end it didn’t matter. You both passed beside each other. None of you could move anymore. You decided to lay beside each other one last time. If you had the energy to speak you spoke to each other about how grateful you were to have the other. You knew this time would come but it still felt bittersweet. It doesn’t matter if you were so thirsty that you didn’t have the ability to speak, either way you guys died in each other’s arms.
Freminet, Gaming, Chongyun, Durin,
He couldn’t protect you. He thought he had it covered. He was fighting the zombies around you but no. One snuck up on you and bit your neck. If it have been any other limp perhaps he could’ve cut it off and maybe just maybe you’d be okay. But no. The zombie bit your neck. He immediately took care of the zombie before getting you guys out of the situation but you both knew it was too late. You were panicking, tears swelling in your eyes and so was he. He tried to reassure himself. How long did you have? How long did he have? Should he be reckless and kiss you? No. You made him promise to live on without you. He stayed with you until the first sign of you losing your mind. As much as he wanted to stay neither of you could stand the thought him seeing you turn into a mindless creature. He’d try and go as far away as possible. If he does see you while you are a zombie he won’t be able to hurt you, thus becoming a zombie himself.
Thoma, Razor, Kaveh, Illuga(2),
He got bit first because of his chivalry. He saw a little girl about to be discovered by zombies and couldn’t just stand and watch. He rushed head first into the situation. He protected her but was injured. He didn’t get to fully heal before days later he was protecting you all when you were surrounded. He got bit multiple times. He protected you until the end of his life. Surviving without him though is terribly difficult.
Varka, Itto
Tried hard to keep you safe but at the end of the day he’s just a normal guy. He could have sealed with 1 or 2 zombies but anymore was just asking too much. All you guys were doing were looking for food but a zombie came out of nowhere. You both ran. You tripped and got bitten. He killed it but knew better than to stay with someone infected. By the end of that very day you guys had bid each other farewell. Perhaps it was newly found depression over losing his lover but he no longer tried as hard. Days later he had been bitten as well and found himself looking for you.
they say your spouse's sleeping posture or habits tell what kind of a person they are
and oh boy...
"augh...*hack* damn..."
so what does it mean when your spouse who has either golden retriever energy or black cat energy (up to you), is quite literally enveloping you with his big, muscular body
he was sleeping so soundly too that you were more concerned over him not getting enough sleep instead of you almost suffocating
but hey he's warm
"mmm...soft...warm..."
he was mumbling in his sleep and with the way he was hugging you and caressing your body you pretty much guessed he was dreaming about you. cute as if that didn't melt your heart
for some reason he just slid downwards while he was in very very deep sleep and sluggishly climbed on top of you, with his head on your heart and his body snuggled between your legs
cracking a soft smile you threaded your fingers through his hair and gently scratched his head
"love..." you heard him say before his breathing evened out
"good night to us too"
kaeya, DILUC, zhongli, CHILDE, capitano, neuvillette, WRIOTHESLEY, VARKA, PHAINON, mydei, ASHVEIL, JING YUAN, blade(?), DIAVOLO, BEELZEBUB, malleus, LEONA, JACK, idia (trust i know he hides them pecs under those hoodies), CALEB, RAFAYEL, zayne, YUUJI
How genshin men would react to them falling in love with you after rejecting you
Assuming a year has past since your confession. They aren’t sure if you still like them.
Tries to win you over (Subtly)
He believes that if you liked him back then you can like him now. You haven’t got over him, have you? It’s only been a year. You have to still like them a little, right? He tried to reject you as respectfully as possible so all they can do is hope he didn’t break your heart. He goes full courting mode. He will subtly court you or even seduce you if he must. He definitely replays your confession in his head at night. How could he reject you out of all people. Anything you told him during your confession is 100% being used against you. Oh so you like how his gifts are always so considerate? Well now his gifts are extra considerate. Oh you like how strong he is? Well he just happens to show off when protecting you from some hilichurls. He catches one reaction. One small blush or longing look. Any sort of proof that you still like him and he’s asking you out on the spot. He tries being subtle about it to hide his slight guilt for rejecting you then asking you out a year later. If you make him say it then he’ll try to laugh it off. “I mean you did say you wanted to go out with me didn’t you?”
Wriothesley, Heizou, Kaeya, Flins
Desperately Tries to win you over
Similar to the last one except he’s a lot more embarrassed by what he’s doing. He feels like a moron for rejecting you. He honestly can’t tell if you do or don’t still like him. Eventually he asks you out with the same amount of effort you put into asking him. “Hey uh, is that offer for *blank* still open?” He’ll ask while actively blushing.
Kaveh, Itto, Gorou,
Locks in
He is not going to fumble you twice. He’s going to make sure you love him again no matter what it takes. You’ll suddenly notice he’s a lot more attentive. He’ll give you gifts and sometimes just look at you. You don’t know how to feel. Does he like you? He rejected you so you must be overthinking right? Eventually he asks you out as nonchalantly as he can though secretly his heart is beating the life out of his chest.
Kinich, Albedo, Alhaitham,
Plays off the rejection
He’s really hoping you don’t remember his rejection. He’s convinced he wasn’t in his right mind when he rejected you. You’re literally perfect for him. He acts a little bit like a female high schooler with a crush. Overly laughs at your jokes, sits a little too close, stares at you whenever he thinks you aren’t paying attention. When he asks you out he plays it off as a spur of the moment type of thing but in truth he’s been thinking about asking you out for a while. He really hopes that you 1: still like him and 2: that you don’t hold his rejection against him.
He feels upset about liking you. How could he have waited so long to fall in love with you. He’ll stare at his ceiling wondering how he could be so dumb. He wouldn’t confess to you. How could he? It’s been a year. There is no way you still love him. He’ll long for you from afar as if you were the one who rejected him.
Neuvillette, Xiao, Tighnari, Durin, Baizhu
Apologizes
He’ll confess to you but not without an apology. He will apologize for breaking your heart and ask for another chance with a bouquet or something else you like. He feels terrible for rejecting you but doesn’t beat himself too much over it. All he can do is hope you accept but understands why you might reject him.
Kazuha, Gaming, Diluc, Sethos,
Avoids you
He feels so dumb and doesn’t know how to deal with his feelings. His face heats up whenever you talk to him. When you first asked him out he had no interest in romantic relationships but now he wishes he had one with you. He avoids you so much you’re convinced he hates you. It takes intervention from one of his friends/siblings for you to understand what was going on.
Do you have any thoughts on domestic head cannons for Kaeya and reader? Like taking a bath together and relaxing after a long day and stuff like that.
Thank you for taking your time to feed us with amazing content ❤️
Nepenthe
Or
Domestic! Kaeya x Reader Headcanons
CW: Mention of scars, pure unadulterated fluff
An unguarded Kaeya is a surprisingly quiet Kaeya, not in the sense he’s silent but that his usual theatrical mannerisms (expressive hands, knowing looks, practiced smiles, his near constant amusement) are muted.
He’s the kind of man who takes winding down as seriously as getting the job done, and it shows in his post work routine. He doesn’t care if the more traditional sorts call it “unmanly” or “foppish” (assuming ofc that real word stereotypes carry over to the Genshin universe, highly unlikely considering the character designs though) but he takes his time with skincare and hair treatments after all that field work (you might hear him tutting over split ends or breakouts caused by nights spent on the road for longer missions). If Reader is interested, he’s more than happy to include them — especially if they’ve never paid attention to either before. So self-care nights are spent laughing over how silly the other looks with a face mask on or advice on which ointments to use or avoid.
Taking a bath together though is something that’ll take some time to suggest. He’s not too eager to show his scars (or take his eyepatch off) so it’ll take a fair couple of months of earning his trust until he suggests it. He’s playful, bringing it up casually with that charming grin of his, but his voice cracks when he laughs and averts his gaze when you say yes. The first bath could be awkward in the beginning (especially if you two haven’t had intercourse before and this is the first time you’re seeing each other undressed) and he attempts to hide his unease through conversation. You may have to make the first move to make him comfortable, offer to help each other bathe. He’s tender then, careful. His fingers press into your back as he rubs soap into your skin, and maybe teasing you with a tickle. He’s good with his hands too, picking out spots where he assumes your tension gathers. He’ll sigh pleasantly when you return the favour, leaning into your touch. A comfortable silence will settle as he just soaks in this moment of care, musing on the strangeness of this intimacy which seems to transcend that of the more sensual kind. The first shared bath is unlikely to lead up to anything though, however the ones after might. But for now, he’s content letting you comb your fingers through his scalp and rub the stiffness from his shoulders… then return the favour tenfold of course. He still wouldn’t take his eyepatch off though.
There’s also lazing around on the couch together on off-days. He’ll sit down with some reading while you do your own thing beside him. A conversation isn’t necessary, but it’s the quiet comfort of living in someone’s space— and them choosing to live in his— that he appreciates. If you are in the mood for a chat, he’ll indulge you. His favourite ones are those that invite thought, not tethered to everyday life or, Archon’s forbid, politics. But if you have something to rant about or yap about or confess, he’ll lend you both his ear and words.
If he’s free, he’ll help you cook too, flip a coin to decide the dish and all. His choice recipes are the foods that are designed to accompany wine; either included in the recipe or paired with it. But if you aren’t one for alcohol, he won’t mind whipping up a mocktail either. If you’re the one cooking… he’ll still try to pair your dish with wine, but he’ll help you with chopping vegetables, toasting seasoning, etc. Expect him to talk your ear off about whatever “culinary secret” he knows while he does it though. He’ll also attempt to juggle some of the vegetables… only to miscalculate at the last moment and send them tumbling on his feet. He’s laughing, but it hurt. Help him.
Tosses the coin for sharing chores. He doesn’t want to do them, and you also probably don’t want to do them, so why not let fate decide on your shared torture (if you do enjoy chores, he’s pleasantly surprised but will feel guilty and help you anyway). He whistles as he works, and if you can’t he’ll try to teach you. If you can, you two can try to whistle something together, he’s certainly game. You’ll also catch him attempting the more undignified experiments — like swinging the broom like his sword — things no outsider would dream of seeing the elegant, suave Cavalry Captain do.
Snuggling in bed is his favourite way to end the day. There isn’t much pillow talk here (unless it’s one of those nights where his eye is heavy but his brain is screaming) and he’s out in a few minutes. He’s a snorer, but it’s quieter than most, oddly grounding if you’re the one with insomnia. He prefers to sleep on his right side, but rotates through quite a few positions. Sometimes you’ll wake up with his arm thrown over your belly, sometimes sprawled like a starfish, other times curled like an infant. It usually ends with his cheek pressed against your shoulder, or some part of him touching you.
A/N: Thanks for the ask Anon!! And thank you, I try my best to cook 🫡 🍽️ and I hope you enjoyed this meal <33
“Where are the trans men in history?” See. When you're born a gender that was forcefully married off, who had to live most of their life indoors, when you had to raise children, and had a lobotomy if your family thought you were a tad too odd, it's kinda hard to come out as a trans man now ain't it.
If this page suddenly goes silent one day, know that my brother Samer didn’t make it. I will never forget those who saw him suffering from severe bombing injuries, lacking his vital medications, yet chose silence and kept scrolling.
I feel completely shattered and deeply ashamed begging strangers for help every single day. This endless nightmare has stripped us of everything, forcing me to sacrifice even my own dignity just to keep my brother and my family alive.
I want nothing from this world except to see Samer healthy and free of pain, and to save my family from this slow death. Please donate so we can afford his essential psychiatric and medical treatments before it’s too late.
Samer is slipping away, and we cannot fight this alone. Every single second matters now as his condition worsens without treatment. Please, don't look away, your support is his only chance to survive this nightmare.
Summary: You should really stop seeking Qifrey out. It's never the reunion you want it to be; it's messy and angry and it's only ever a temporary relief from the complicated world of the Brimmed Caps. But you can't help yourself, so you continue to find him. And he continues to let you leave when all you have to argue is re-hashed.
Pairing: Qifrey x Brimmed Cap!reader
Word Count: 1.4k~
Content/Warnings: implied SPOILERS for the plot of wha, mentions of disability/chronic pain, angst, exes, hurt no comfort, angry makeout
A/N: yes i am projecting onto reader because i would in fact be bitter enough about witch society being unwilling to use magic to heal to join the brimmed caps as a chronic pain girly. not proofread! enjoyyyy <3
The rain is heavy, almost deafening as the droplets strike the canopy of leaves above your head, but the silhouette of the witch you’re tailing is shielded from the downpour by a sphere of shimmering magic. He’s stooped over in his little bubble of sunshine, plucking some mushrooms from the ground into a basket. It’s been hours of this, lurking just out of sight as you battle internally over whether you really want to speak to him. Whether it would break or mend your heart to hear his voice again.
Your body is beginning to protest the cold of the rain, joints groaning in discomfort as you shift up from the crouch you had held in the brush. You step carefully from the cover of the trees and make your way towards the grey cloaked witch, your approach concealed by the pattering of the rain until you step into the protective bubble.
“Mind sharing your umbrella?”
Qifrey recoils from the sound of your voice as if he’s been burned. As he turns to fix his gaze on you, the glowering expression on his face intensifies when he sees the brimmed cap rested on your head. You should be used to that look by now, but it still sends a brief pang of hurt through your chest.
“Must you always look so venomous when I visit?”
“What do you want?”
Despite the scowl he’s still wearing like armor, there’s a tinge of gentle sadness in his voice as he straightens up. You pout half-heartedly at the way he’s withdrawn his hands into his cloak, obviously in search of his components.
“Just to talk,” You lift your hat from your head, beginning to wring the rainwater from your soaked hair. “To see how you’re doing; how the girls are.”
Qifrey scoffs coldly. “I’m swell, thanks for your concern. We’ve developed a conscience now, have we? Or are you here to collect information for your higher-ups?”
His mocking tone sparks an anger that burns deep in your chest. To suggest you possess no real regard for their well-being, knowing you abandoned witch society in pursuit of the goal he is only willing to chase in shadow, that is a disrespect that cuts deep. You place your cap back onto your head, ignoring the way the crease between his brows deepens as it obscures your eyes.
“Don’t take a moral high ground against me, Qifrey. Don’t you dare accuse me of trading the safety of those children for reputation points among the Brimmed Caps.”
“I’m supposed to believe you joined the Brimmed Caps just for the aesthetics?”
The air buzzes with a simmering tension, as if the forest itself is waiting to see which of you will escape your standoff unscathed. These trees had seen the two of you in every stage of your relationship; the awkward first kiss, the stolen moments away from the responsibilities of teaching, the fallout of realizing some things are too painful for love to mend.
“I did it for us. For you.” Angry tears pool at the edges of your eyes, hot and infuriating in their testament to your emotions. You grit your teeth and force the wavering from your voice. “Not all things can be cured within the confines of the Pact, you of all people understand that; I’m not sorry for having the sense to seek out a solution you’re too cowardly to even consider.”
“Oh, I’m the coward?” Qifrey takes a threatening step towards you, his one eye wide with frustration. “You want to accuse me of cowardice as you hide beneath that brim?”
This was not how you wanted this encounter to pan out. As delusional a hope it was, each time you came you wished for a happier reunion. It never was. You begin to retreat, to put some distance between yourself and him, but Qifrey lunges forward as if on instinct and captures your wrist in his hand.
“Face me and tell me what makes your path deserving of my respect, Brimmed Cap.” He spit the words at you with such vigor that it must knock all sense from your mind.
A tidal wave of emotions crashes through you, and your hand closes around the golden pendant that joins the two halves of his cloak together. You yank him to you, and before your lips have even met, he’s thrown his willowy arms around you, holding you so tightly it hurts. The kiss is desperate and harsh, it’s almost cathartic. You feel your anger dissipate, as if it was merely a toxin you needed Qifrey to siphon from your bloodstream. You lock your arms around his neck, desperate for this to last forever. If you could not have his love, you would drown yourself in his hatred. This messy, hostile tension would have to substitute for the gentle kind of companionship you had once before. He pulls away from you, breathing heavily, and you can only afford enough time for a few gulps of air before you’re pulling his face back to yours. It’s as if the second he withdraws you’ll come unraveled, too fragile to return to the bitter reality of who you both are. This kiss tastes like salt, warm tears that you can’t determine the source of. He’s released his grip on your waist, tangling his long slender fingers up into your hair and knocking your hat from your head.
And then the rain drops onto the two of you like a sheet.
The seal Qifrey had drawn to ward of the water is crumpled in the palm of his hand, ruined in the intensity of your embrace. The drenching is a harsh return to earth; Qifrey shudders with the sudden cold and pulls away from you, sucking in gasps of air as he tries to process what just happened between you. There’s a pain in his expression that makes you want to reach for him, but it feels wrong to now that the moment is over.
“Tell me it’s worthwhile.” Qifrey is boring holes into you with the intensity of his gaze, that blue eye zeroed in on you as if he can see the doubt laced into your heart. You pick up your cap, anxious to replace the shield of the brim onto your head. “Tell me the shred of hope to find some way to be healed with magic was worth throwing your life away. That you don’t regret giving up all you’ve lost in accepting forbidden magic.”
He doesn’t need to elaborate what exactly you gave up. The words hang unspoken in the damp air of the forest.
Tell me it was worth losing me.
Now that his spell is gone, the moisture feels suffocating; though that might just be your heart lodged in your throat that’s making it hard to draw breath.
You’re grateful that the very cap he’s condemning shields your face some as you feel the tears you’ve been collecting again finally cascade down your cheeks. He would take them as surrender; as evidence that you thought you’d made a mistake in pursuing forbidden magic to try and revive the practice of healing witches.
He would be wrong.
“We could have found ways to ease the pain.” Qifrey’s voice is still stern, but it lacks the bite of true anger. “Olly could have made you some contraption to help you manage it, to help make drawing easier.”
You flex your hands anxiously within your cloak, the dull ache you know will crescendo into agony after a day spent in the chilling rain making itself known with each movement. No number of herbs, Healing Spire visits, or warming contraptions from Olruggio could rid you of that horrible pain nestled deep in your bones.
“We would have kept looking for our antidotes together. You would have had my love to soothe your pain.” The slightest crack is there in the words my love.
“Your love was never going to be my cure.”
The guilt that strikes you as you say it seems to tilt the earth beneath you; you feel sick.
“Then why do you return to me like a moth to flame? Why torture us both with ghosts of what was?”
There’s no good answer you can give. He’s a vice to you, a reprieve from the darkness of your world that you selfishly seek out like an antidote to your fear. He can’t save you, but he’s like the umbrella spell in a way, a patch of sun to retreat to when the sky unleashes a downpour.
“Until next time, Qifrey.” You tug the brim back down to conceal your eyes, closing out your own umbrella spell and once more shielding the small clearing from the heavy rain. You leave behind the seal as you turn your back on the silver-haired witch, a feeble attempt at an apology for ripping open old wounds.
Perhaps one day there will be a world in which you two can reconcile your differences. But for today, you must leave him. Even if it’s a pain more agonizing than any physical ache you’ve ever experienced.
⟢ tags: fluff, olruggio's beard is scratchy so he shaves for you
"Your beard is kind of scratchy."
Olruggio doesn't hear you properly, the first time you say it. To be fair, you mumble it against his mouth between kisses and teeth, and he's too busy trying to kiss you back without panting desperately into your mouth like some lovesick dog—which leaves him very little attention to focus on anything aside from the slow creep of your fingers beneath his shirt, the weight of your body pressing his into the sunbed. Your knee is between his legs, and Olruggio doesn't know whether to give thanks or pray for mercy. Gods.
"Mgh—wuh—what?" he manages when you pull back from him, just far enough for him to catch sight of the thin, glistening string of spit between your lips before it breaks. He nearly misses your second reply all over again. "My—"
"Beard. Goatee, if you want to be specific?" You draw back properly and Olruggio immediately mourns the space between you, the loss of your warmth. He's quickly placated though; your hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking maddeningly slow over the dark, uneven stubble along his jaw. "It sometimes leaves a bit of a rash on my face, after we kiss for too long."
It takes Olruggio a moment to comprehend your words—how can there possibly be such a thing as "kissing for too long"?—but gradually the fog in his head clears just enough for him to focus. So kissing him has been uncomfortable. Perhaps you never said anything because you didn't want to hurt his feelings, but that only makes Olruggio feel guiltier now. He gets so buried in his work that it's simply easier to maintain a beard than to stay clean-shaven. It never once occurred to him how it might feel against your skin.
The next morning, Olruggio wakes before you do. He clambers out of the hammock, painstakingly careful not to rouse you from your sleep, and pads barefoot over to the washbasin. He's about to reach for his facecloth when he catches sight of his own reflection in the small mirror hanging over it. Olruggio stares at it for a long while—the dark smudge of stubble shadowing his jaw, the slightly uneven patch at his chin. The careless scruff of a man who's stopped looking at himself too closely a long time ago.
Hm.
He glances back over his shoulder. You're still sleeping soundly in the hammock, blankets tangled around your bare legs, one arm dangling limply over the side. Fondness blooms quietly in Olruggio's chest, steaming erbe tea steeped in hot water, warmer than the morning sunlight pouring in through the upper window.
Then he turns back to the basin and crouches down to dig beneath the sink, rummaging through old tins and cracked cups until his fingers close around what he's looking for.
It's late morning by the time you awake. The instant your consciousness stirs, you become aware of the reason—the space in the hammock beside you is grievously empty, the blankets lacking in any trace of another's body heat. The loft and workshop, too, are disappointingly Olruggio-absent. So you stretch, expelling your sleepiness from your body with a long yawn, before reaching for your outer robe and climbing down the stairs. Olruggio's probably in the main wing of the atelier, preparing breakfast—though it might be closer to lunch, with the late hour you've awoken.
You shuffle across the catwalk, rubbing sleep from your eyes. Sure enough, when you push open the kitchen door, there he is: standing with his back to you, quietly humming as he whisks a bowl of eggs at the counter. Qifrey had mentioned heading to the Great Hall for some errand yesterday, and you can hear the apprentices' distant voices drifting down from upstairs—something about a mess and who's responsible for it. Perfect.
You creep up behind him—on your tiptoes, quiet as a mouse—before you slip your arms around his waist, pulling him back against you. Olruggio makes a startled sound, nearly dropping the whisk in his hand, and you lean in to kiss the side of his jaw before he can turn around. Your lips seek the familiar scratch of his jaw… but instead of stubble, your mouth meets smooth, bare skin.
Huh?
You scramble back so fast you nearly trip over your own feet, heart hammering in your chest. Is there an intruder in the atelier? Did Qifrey dye his hair black all of a sudden? Did you just accidentally kiss the wrong man? What—
"You scared the heck outta me!" Olruggio yelps, whirling around so quicklly a few flecks of yolk splatter onto the counter, whisk clutched protectively to his chest. His cheeks are stained pink, ripe as rose apples—and without the beard, there's nowhere for the colour to hide. "You—"
"What happened to you?" you cry, lifting a shaking finger to point it at him. "Who—who are you?"
Olruggio freezes for a second. His expression collapses into immediate offense in the next. "What do you mean, who am I?"
"You look like a completely different man!"
"I shaved!"
"You removed half your face!"
"I didn't remove—" he hisses, the nectarine-pink flush on his face deepening to a lurid crimson. Still, his hand flies to his cheek on instinct, as if checking to make sure the missing beard hasn't somehow taken a substantial portion of him with it. "It's the same face!"
You stare at him for a long moment, agape, before you take a step closer. Olruggio immediately glances away, chin ducking in an attempt to shy away from your attention, but still he lets you take his jaw in your hand. You tug his newly bared cheeks this way and that, tilting his face toward the light as if to confirm he isn't some imposter wearing Olruggio's skin.
The same nose, same blue eyes. The same soft, flustered mouth.
"You shaved," you say, disbelief seeping into your voice. "I've never seen you shaved before. What brought this on?"
Olruggio's face only gets redder, somehow.
"You mention you sometimes get a rash when you're kissing me," he mumbles under his breath, refusing to meet your eyes. His gaze stays doggedly fixed on some point past your shoulder—the windowsill, the kettle on the table, anywhere but your face. "I didn't want ya to have to put up with that anymore, so…"
The sentence trails off, swallowed by his embarrassment.
It's hard to do anything but stare at Olruggio. At the flush burning high on his cheeks, the clean shaven jaw he's so clearly self-conscious about. His hand twitches at where it's fallen at his side, as though he wants to reach up and touch it, and your chest fills suddenly with so much warmth it overflows, a bubbling spring that spills forth with no end.
Oh, he's impossible. You tug him in by the waist, ignoring the way Olruggio lets out something suspiciously close to a squawk. Impossible, and so, so lovely. Before he can squirm away you pull him firmly against you and bury your face in his soft chest. This close, you can feel everything—the rapid, rabbit-quick beat of his heart, his stuttering breath.
"Oh, Olly." His name alone feels like an endearment in your mouth. "When I said that, it didn't mean I disliked it. Actually, I'm rather fond of it—it's like a little mark I carry of you, after we've been together."
"Yeah." You smile—soft, fond, perhaps just a little mischievious—before your fingers tug aside the collar of his shirt to rub at the fading crescent of teeth marks sitting low at his collarbone. "Besides, haven't I give you a few marks of my own, too?"
Whatever flush had dissipated from Olruggio's face races back up at once. "That's—that's different—"
You wind your arms around his neck this time, the faint edge of laughter still on your lips as you pull him down towards you again. Olruggio squeezes his eyes frantically shut. Just before your mouths can meet, however…
"I can't." You break away from him, laughing so hard you have to brace a hand against his chest just to stay upright. "I don't think I can stop laughing long enough to kiss you until you get your beard back, Olly."
His eyes go wide in alarm. "But that's going to take weeks—hey. Hey!"
