GENRE: fluff! established relationship, nonverbal communication.
TW/CW: n/a.
A/N: this is a birthday gift I wrote for my trusty co-op player and #1 beta reader :DD happy day of exiting the womb, elder sibling~~
Composing music was truly a thorn in your side when you didn’t even know what to write in the first place.
You run a hand through your unruly hair and sigh discontentedly, looking at the mess of papers before you. Earlier in the day you had painstakingly worked to set up the most productive atmosphere and distraction-free environment that you could, with the foolproof plan to write a masterpiece in one afternoon. Now it was late in the evening, and the sheets of paper that you thought would overflow with music had remained pristinely blank.
Drawing a hand over your face, you cast a glance at the clock on your desk— she should be home anytime soon.
The faint sound of the front door opening and closing is enough to jolt you out of your misery, and you hear a familiar voice call out, “I’m home.”
Like magic, the sound of that soft, lovely voice dispels the gloom hanging over you— hastily, you collect your wits and scrabble at the disorderly heap of papers in an attempt to organize them.
Footsteps shuffle closer and closer to your study, and Ganyu opens the door just as you finished stacking them neatly.
“Hi.”
She blinks at you and gives you a soft smile in greeting. “Hello.”
“It’s really late.” You gently lead Ganyu to sit down on the bench before the piano— the chair of your desk would be too hard and uncomfortable for her. “If I’d known you would come home this late at night, I’d have gone to pick you up.”
She dismisses the thought with a shake of her head, her snowy blue locks flying every which way. “Ah, there’s no need for that… I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can.” Smoothing her hair, you sit beside her and give her hand a gentle squeeze. “But I just get worried, that’s all.”
Ganyu doesn’t reply, but you can hear the unspoken words that she cannot find the courage to say yet— I didn’t want to bother you by asking you to come at such an hour. I’m sorry for making you worry, but I’m also grateful that you care for me enough to worry about me.
You wished you could find the courage to verbalize your reply to her, but in that aspect the two of you were too similar; words were often insufficient to fully communicate your intentions and feelings. To make up for this, you sought to express your emotions in your music, while Ganyu chose to communicate them through her diligence in everything she did.
So in order to tell her the words you wanted to say, you turn to face the piano and ask, “Do you want me to play for you?”
Her eyes light up with childlike delight, and that’s more than enough of an answer for you.
“I should warn you though,” you remark as you lift the cover off of the black and white keys, “I’ve been in musical burnout the whole day, so I don’t really know what to play.”
“That’s alright.” Ganyu shifts to sit closer to you, burying her head in your shoulder. Her arms loosely wrap around your waist, as if by instinct— she must be really tired today, you think. “I like to listen to everything you play.”
Your heart thumps against your ribcage noisily- she really had a knack for taking you by surprise like this.
Quickly, you try to distract her by changing the topic before she notices your flustered expression. “Was it tiring at work?”
“Mm.”
“Did you remember to eat the lunch I packed for you?”
“Mm.”
“You didn’t take all the workload on yourself again, did you?
“…”
“…Ganyu.”
“I didn’t- I didn’t take all of it this time. Just… three-fourths of it.”
“Ganyu.”
She gives you a look with those big, innocent eyes of hers, and the tempo of your heartbeat changes from andante to allegro in a split second. Whether Ganyu is doing it deliberately or not, you know a losing battle when you see one.
“Fine, fine, I won’t nag you about it. I’ll just play for you as your in-house musician and composer.”
With a sigh, you turn to the keyboard and ruffle your hair— what to play, what to play. What sort of tune could your empty head pull out of a hat? What was it that you wanted to say to Ganyu? You wanted your song to be perfect, a masterpiece just solely for her- she deserved nothing less than that.
But how? What volume would you play at? Did you want to have a more upbeat tune, or would you have something soft and sweet? Would she prefer more complex progressions of notes, or was simplicity the way to go?
‘I like to listen to everything you play.’
That single sentence was so direct, so simply phrased— and yet it washed away the angry buzzing of your internal voice like footprints in the sand.
Whether you just play whatever comes to your mind at the moment or you’re drilling exercises for defter fingers, she always chose to sit next to you and listen in reverent silence. Even when you play a wrong note, even if you forget what musical phrase comes next, Ganyu still looks enraptured by your music— and it’s because you are the only one who can play it.
Knowing this gives you confidence and puts your mind at ease; now you’re sure of what you want to say.
Thank you for coming home safely. I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, but I still want to try and protect you. I wish you weren’t so insecure about yourself; I want to tell you how much I cherish you, whether it’s the person who you were in the past, who you are now, or who you will be in the future.
Bit by bit, the words in your heart come together and flow into the melody— any trace of creative block had long since disappeared, replaced with the fire of inspiration that all artists thrive upon. Your instrument became as your voice, and the black and white keys unlocked all the things you kept locked away, the words you wanted to say but just couldn’t. Though they were tentative and unsure, you hoped that your feelings would come across.
“It’s a little bit rough, considering that I made that up on the spot just now.” Your voice wavers slightly— you’d been so absorbed in your playing that you were out of breath. “But… what do you think?”
There was no reply; her deep breaths tickled against the side of your neck, indicating she was fast asleep.
With a shake of your head accompanied with a rueful smile, you shift so that you can wrap an arm around her shoulders— the Liyue Qixing had no small amount of tasks to be done, and yet Ganyu accomplished more in a day than fifty employees could in a week. It was no wonder she came home each evening completely exhausted.
But I wish you’d take better care of yourself, you think as you look at her sleeping face. Her eyelashes flutter lazily as she dozes— knowing her, she was probably dreaming of her schedules for the next day.
“Goodnight, Ganyu.”
Carefully, so you wouldn’t disturb her, you carry her to the couch and drape a blanket over her. She’d have to go to work in a few hours, so it was best to have her nearby so that you could wake her.
As for what you would do till then… inspiration still burned through your blood like adrenaline, and music wouldn’t write itself. You had so many things to say, to tell her through your music— after all, it is out of the abundance of the heart that the mouth speaks. If the heart overflows with love, then it is only natural that the mouth will speak of love.
Bucky trying to get Steve to take out that nervous energy by asking him for really wierd stuff like "yeah i want the tallest apple from this old tree in the middle of that forest" and Boy Scout Steve being like Z O O M and back with the prettiest apples - which has bucky both face-palming and laughing. Then they bake some pie with the apples ("Bucky! Don't taste the batter - it's uncooked! I can do it, just rest sweetheart ❤️❤️") And Bucky gets really emotional because hormones and Steve is so sweet and it's just all very warm and soft and wholsome 🥺❤️ they share the pie - Steve is again zooming around sharing pieces and everyone can just feel the excitement and congratulate them both a lot
OH LORD, this is giving me so many soft and fluffy feelings today, I love it 🥺🥺🥺 YES to all of this. Bucky sending Steve on impossible quests that Steve somehow completes (and in record time too) because nothing is impossible if it's for Bucky; Bucky groaning/laughing because oh my god Steve, how are you real (you'd think he'd have gotten used to it by now but it still catches him by surprise sometimes), the two of them making an apple pie together (Steve's favourite) and then sharing it with everyone, Bucky being all mushy and a little weepy at the domesticity of it all, which almost makes Steve break down in tears too since he hates seeing Bucky cry, because it makes him feel so helpless, and now more than ever because he could fight the bastards who hurt Bucky in the past but he can't fight hormones. Bucky ensures him it's all good, he's fine, wonderful even, and then he takes Steve's big, bearded face in his hands and kisses him softly while everyone coos at them in the background 🥺❤️
Hello~ can i request something soft with unknown, like helping him sleep by playing with his hair for example, please? 🌸
(Sure thing Flower anon~)
He had no clue how long he'd been in front of his computer before his assistant came to get him. She huffed at his hunched over state and placed a hand on his arm.
"C'mon. Time for bed." She said, trying to coax him away. Unknown frowned up at her.
"I need to get this done." He said, voice dry from not having been used.
"If you don't go to bed, I might accidentally delete everything again." She told him innocently.
"Don't you fucking dare." Unknown glared at her.
"I might." She said with a shrug and a grin.
"Fine." Unknown finally said, rolling his eyes. She grinned, taking him by the hand and dragging him back to his room. As soon as they got in, she began to rummage through his meager drawers.
"Do you not have pj's?" She asked.
"No? I just sleep in my clothes." Unknown said, eyebrow raised at her. She frowned.
"Stay here. I'll be back." She said quickly and disappeared out the door. He knew where she was headed. The other believers had just as quickly grown attached to his assistant, and were eager to give her whatever she wanted. He didn't like the ugly feeling that gave him, twisting his heart in his chest. She was his assistant? Who the fuck did they think they were?
He wasn't stuck with his own thoughts for long, as the door came open again and she came through with a bundle of clothes.
"Here!" She said with a grin. He took the pair of sweatpants from her and raised an eyebrow. She pouted. "They're comfy!"
"Where are yours?" She blinked in surprise at his words, but smiled slightly.
"You know, I wasn't sure if you'd want me here." She said softly. He frowned before reaching over and messing up her hair.
"Don't be stupid." He growled out. She just grinned back at him.
"Luckily," she said, making her way back over to his drawers, pulling out a pair of shorts and a tank top, "I came prepared!"
~
He sunk into his bed, arms wrapped around her as her fingers gently ran through his hair. He'd never felt himself drifting off to sleep so peacefully, so comfortably. If this was how it was going to be with her every time, he might just sleep more.
Annnnnd guess what I actually drew Eugene!! I call him Volpin in this Au.
I like to think he’s more feminine, and comfortable in his own skin that way. And he loves karaoke and singing, I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules (Only Girl by Rihanna is his jam, hes a drama queen)
