Adelinde, You Havent Changed Much

adelinde, you havent changed much

POV: You are hiding under their desk - Part two

Warnings: Zhongli has joint pains in his hand and slight spoiler to Kokomi’s character quest

𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜: 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕; 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚉𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒’𝚜

﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋ ﹋

Zhongli:

  The former Geo Archon is a very patient man. After centuries of experience, he knows within himself when to take a break. However, the physical exhaustion of a mortal body was something he was not quite used to yet. His office basked in a warm orange as the sun sets over Liyue, and Zhongli exhales softly through his nose. The pen in his hand scribbles away at the documents left by Hu Tao, but his mind was elsewhere. 

  Tiredness ached within his joints, and he sets the quill down to flex his fingers. He’s not one to complain; he was grateful for his job at the funeral parlor, and he wasn’t about to draw attention to a measly setback such as this.

  As Zhongli gains the motivation to start again, an agonizing pulse shoots through his palm. A hiss escapes through his teeth and the pen clatters to the floor. He barely registers the pull on his pants leg as he gathers himself. His amber orbs trace over the face below him, two (e/c) doe-like eyes watching him with curiosity. 

  “What are you doing down there, little one?” Zhongli’s voice rumbles as a soft smile graces his features. The child quickly lifts the writing utensil he dropped moments before and giggles.

  “Write!” They exclaim.

  “Yes. That is used for writing,” the consultant replies as he lifts the young being onto his lap. Taking an empty copy of paper, he places it on the table in front of the child, who immediately scribbles away at the white sheet. Zhongli couldn’t help but to place his hand on top of theirs, stopping any erratic movement of the pencil. They look at him, their cheeks puffed out in irritation.

  “Write!” They announce sternly, making the Archon chuckle.

  “Let me teach you how I do it.”

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Kokomi:

  Her Excellency of Watasumi Island is a very busy lady. With all her time spent on finding ways for Sangonomiya to grow, she tends to forget about her own needs. With the villagers finding new ways to cultivate the land; to the daily tasks needed to be sent out to the soldiers; to the duties at the shrine; the lead priestess was tired to say the least.

  She knew a few hours with her books would do her some good. She asked General Gorou to keep an eye out while she rejuvenated herself with new tactic plans. She sat contently in her own company, eyes gazing across the words printed on the page. She was truly invested in the plot, theories and questions dancing in her thoughts. The suspense was killing her as the scene unravels, and though she was quite immersed, the sudden laugh from under the table confused her.

  Kokomi tilts her chair back to peek beneath the desk, and a relieved sigh retreats from the priestess. “Why, if it isn’t little (Y/n). How did you find this place?” She questions as the child climbs up her legs and into her lap.

  “Easy peasy,” They exclaim, “I found your tree!”

  “I see,” Kokomi coughs out in response to their boisterous personality, “so you found my reading spot?”

  “You can read books?” (Y/n) mumbles, a sudden glumness falling on their face.

  “I can… you cannot?”

  “I can, I’m just not very good at it. I bet you’re a pro at reading! You’re good at lots of things, Miss Kokomi!”

  “You’d be surprised,” She says with a small smile, “How about this: you read me a chapter, and I read you one.”

  “You’re going to read to me?”

  “If you read to me. It’s only fair, and besides, how will you get better if you don’t practice?”

dancing geniuses

(my twitter)

“Nice to meet you, Thomas” - Leatherface x Female! Reader

 Author’s Note: I guess you could consider this some sort of Au for the Hewitts. Nevertheless, please enjoy the little fluff with Thomas. He deserves all the love!

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 It was a hot summer’s day in Puller, Travis County, Texas. The black cement that made up the road sizzled with intensity, almost like it was an illusion put on by a magician. The (L/N)’s took the time to admire the old farmland that sweeps across the hills of the abandoned town. The baby blue 1961 Chevrolet Impala that (F/N) (L/N) joyously owned sputters and spits as it tracks down the old roads.

  An audible sigh escapes from (F/N)’s lips as the check coolant light blinks on, flickering expeditiously from the dash panel. Fortunately, a small convenient store comes into view through a mass of trees. It seems rundown, with a few bikes huddled in the front. Rusted machines and old tires collect around the outside of the building. The paint was chipping off and the A/C system looked old as can be. 

  Nevertheless, they turn into the driveway, parking on the other side of the gas pumps from the scraggly group smoking pot from their vehicles. “You girls go inside and get coolant for the car. I’ll stay out here,” (F/N) says, eyeing the batch as they pointed towards the little family with envious smiles.

 “Come on sweetness,” (M/N) coaxes to her daughter, stepping out of the passenger side door. She was a thing of beauty, growing with grace as old age overtakes her. Her (M/E/C) eyes shimmer in radiance as the blazing sun catches sight of her. Petite hands brush past her short (M/H/C) locks, curling them behind her ear. (Y/N) wishes to grow old just like her. 

  The backseat door opens quickly after, and two youthful (S/T) legs jump out in modest Mary Jane shoes. (Y/N) (L/N) was the spitting image of her mother, though the soft delicate skin gave her away. The young girl follows along after her mother, mindlessly toying with the buttons of her overalls. 

  The door creaks as her mother enters. The strong smell of liquor and cigarettes instantly burn at (Y/N)’s nose, but she tries her best not to cringe as they walk up to the front counter where the shopkeeper sits. It was an old woman, with frizzled grey hair done up in a bun. Her blue gaze watches the two ladies with a dourly look. A release of smoke pours from her mouth as she takes another hit from her cancer stick. “What can I help you with?” She responds bluntly. 

  “Yes ma’am, we were wondering where your car coolant is,” (Y/N)’s mother replies kindly. “We just ran short.”

  “Middle aisle, probably at the bottom…” the older woman replies. 

  “(Y/N), would you be a dear and go fetch that for me,” (M/N) asks with a grin. 

  The inside, the girl realizes, was dark and dreary. The shelves were crammed with items in no particular order or form. As she examines the contents of the third rack, she notices a couple sitting at a table near the bathroom. They both sported leather jackets and glowering stares. She quickly notes in her head not to even look in their direction.

 “Did you get lost in there, sweetheart,” the older woman calls from the front counter.

 “No ma’am…” (Y/N) responds politely. She finds the blue bottle stuck in between two funnels before rushing up to the front, where her mother was having chit-chat with the owner of the store. 

  “There you are!” (Y/N)’s mother says, gesturing for her daughter to come closer. “Apparently this is our neighbor! She lives a mile up the road from where we built our house!”

  “Oh… Nice to meet you then, Miss…” (Y/N) questions softly. 

  “Luda Mae,” The older woman remarks. “You know, I have a son around your age. He’s on the shy side though…”

  “You here that, (Y/N)? Perhaps you can make a friend after all,” (M/N) exclaims with excitement as she digs out a wad of money from her pants pocket. “We will definitely come visit sometime after we get settled! How much for the coolant?” 

  “If you wouldn’t mind coming for dinner Wednesday evening, it’s on the house. I would love for Thomas to meet (Y/N).”

  “I see no problem in that at all. Until next time, miss Luda Mae!”

〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣

  The tires skid across the gravel of their newly done driveway that travels to a lovely white plantation house. Big trees settle lowly around the property, providing shelter from the hazardous sun. (F/N) and (M/N) talk amongst themselves as (Y/N) daydreams in the back seat. 

  “Oh, look! Our strawberries are growing!” Her mother grins. She quickly picks up the paper grocery bag that was settled in between her legs and ventures over to marvel at the fruit saplings. “Do you see, my sweet!”

  “They are beautiful, mother.” (Y/N) says with a gentle smile.  

  “Oh girls!” (R/N) bellows from the front porch steps. “I hate to ruin your sight- seeing, but aren’t we supposed to be going over to the Hewitt’s home tonight?”

  “It’s Wednesday already?” (M/N) gasps, “Where did the time go… I guess we better get freshened up.”

      Luda Mae was standing in front of her kitchen door as the (L/N) family pulls up. Her wrinkled face invited them with a friendly grin as she waves. All of them are ushered inside, where white porcelain cups and biscuit appetizers were set on the small dining table. It had a long dining cover with brightly colored flowers printed on them. An artificial bouquet is the center piece. Luda went busy at work making sure all of them are accustomed to, pouring tea into each of the glasses in front of them. 

  “Charlie- he’s the sheriff- will be a little late for supper. His patrol is going longer than he anticipated… though he would love to be here to meet you, I’m sure.” Luda explains with affliction. “But Tommy should be done some time soon, no worries miss (Y/N).” 

  She starts to attend to her crockpot on the stove, stirring the red soup with broad strides. (M/N) insists to help her cook, but Luda rejected the idea immediately. “Are you sure, miss Luda-”

  “Please, just call me Luda Mae. No need to be so formal,” the older woman sighs. “And no, that’s alright dearie. What kind of host would I be if I made you cook? You just sit there; your company will be enough.”

  Suddenly, the screen door slams shut. The deep breathing of a man stops the chattering of the room, and everyone stills. A man in an overused leather apron and a sweat-stained yellow striped shirt stands tall in the doorway, frozen like a deer who was spotted by a predator. His thick hair was caked in grease, his curls kinking into knots. The air stunk of meat.

  “Tommy, welcome home!” Luda Mae welcomes him in with a kiss on the cheek. “These are the (L/N)’s; they are our guests. Now don’t be rude! You’ll be sitting by (Y/N) right there, she’s very nice.”

  Thomas’s body slowly pulls out the chair, sitting in it as he was told. His whole body was tense, and (Y/N) could feel the heated shaking of his hands. He adjusts his mask, looking down at his lap.

  “You have pretty hair,” (Y/N) says to him, surprising herself with the sudden complement. “I always wished my hair had coils like yours.”

  Thomas’s salt blue eyes widen slightly as he makes eye contact with (Y/N). Never in his life has someone complimented his hair. He was not used to such nice comments to be thrown in his direction, especially not from a pretty girl he was just introduced to.

  (Y/N) giggles a little at his reaction, but nonetheless finds the innocent behavior cute. “Good to meet you, Thomas. I’m sure we’ll become the best of friends.”

wanderer wip

Please Don't be Mad

Paring: Dean x sister! reader

Description: The youngest Winchester decides to sneak out without her brothers knowing. However, something happens that she ends up having to call Dean.

Warnings: Slight angst, unwanted sexual attention

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    Dean woke up abruptly to his phone ringing. At first he thought it was his imagination and he closes his eyes to re-picture the girl he was having fun with in his dream. However, the wretched sound repeats itself, pounding into his head like a migraine. He felt around on the covers irately looking for his phone. A grumble leaves his lips as he throws his legs over the side of the bed. A soft glow lights up beside his feet and he could feel the vibrations through the floor as the device blares on with that infuriating ring. He picks it off the ground and answers without looking at the Caller ID.

        "What do you want?" He asks gruffly.

        "Dean," a girl cries from the other end, "please don't be mad."

        "(Y/n), what the hell? It's like 1:30 in the morning-"

         "Can you please pick me up?"

        "What are you talking about?"

        "I left the bunker without you or Sammy's permission."

        "Then I'm sure you can manage the problem on your own," he said after a short thought. He was about to hang up out of spite until his sister began to sob on the other end. "Alright," he sighs, "I'm on my way. Where are you?"

---

        A smile reaches (y/n) Winchester's face as she looks around at all of the people. Music booms into her skull and neon lights paint the bodies of everyone in the room. The abandoned barn was quite claustrophobic and she had to be careful not to bump into any of the dancing duos.

        She will admit, she was nervous to come when the Gothic girl at the gas station told her about it. Mostly, it was because she's never really done anything without her protective brothers right in tow. Of course, She's been to places like this when her brothers wanted to relax, but she has never experienced it by herself.

        Although, her stomach continually tightens from the separation, excitement bubbles over that anxiety. She wanders around like a lost puppy, in awe with everything that her eyes cross, and finds herself at the snack bar. She grabs one of the plastic cups and fills it halfway with the red drink presented in the punch bowl.

        "Hey there," a boy says, coming up behind her. "Let's dance." His breath reeked of alcohol.      

        "No thank you," (Y/n) politely says, unwrapping his arms from her waist. She begins to leave until a force knocks her against the table. Her beverage falls to the ground, staining the rotten wood with a deep brown. 

        "That wasn't a question," the boy sneers into her ear. He begins to grind against her legs, laughing as he sees tears stinging at the edge of her eyes. "It'll be quick," he mumbles, his hot breath leaving goosebumps to run along her neck.

        "Leave me alone," (Y/n) yells and swings her fist into his nose. Blood specks around her knuckles and she notices the boy holding his face, red spilling between his fingers.

        Anger flares withing his eyes as he looks at her. (Y/n)'s body trembles under his gaze. She bolts towards the entrance, hearing the boy trail behind her as she races through the crowd. "You're dead-" His voice is muffled by the speakers.

        (Y/n) struggles to get her phone out as she makes it to the open double doors. She scrolls through her contacts as she races to the side of the barn. She traces along the wooden grey wall, dirt collecting on her finger tip. She decides to hide under a couple of planks propped against the barn and holds the phone to her ear. "Dean, please don't be mad."

---

Headlights glare into (Y/n)'s hiding hole as the Impala pulls up beside the building. The young Winchester scurries out and walks over to the driver's side door. Dean didn't bother looking at her through the rolled down window; he kept his eyes ahead of him with a bored expression.

        "Dean, I-"

        "Just get in the car."

        The Impala soon rolls off the dirt path that leads out of the farmland. Dean turns onto the main road and passes a glance at (Y/n).

        "Mind telling me why you thought it was a good idea to sneak out?" Dean asks in a serious tone. His sister shrugs in return. "You don't know? Then why the hell did you do it? Do you know how dangerous that is- what if something happens and me or Sammy don't have any idea where you are! Have you thought about that?" Dean raises his voice.

        "Why can't you just leave me be," (Y/n) mutters, leaning against her palm and staring out the window.

        "What was that?"

        "Why can't you just leave me be." The girl repeats loudly, turning to face her brother.

        "Huh, I wonder why? We fight the Supernatural for a living, (Y/n). You know better than to ask that. It's for your safety."

        "It's not my fault I was born into this stupid family," She suddenly yells out. The car ride becomes thick with silence and Dean's anger could be felt, pulsating off his body in rapid waves. (Y/n) looks down at her lap in guilt. "I didn't mean that."

        "Sure you didn't."

        "It's just that, I never get to experience anything without you or Sammy being protective about it. I wanted to try something without being coaxed out of it."

        "Why bother calling then, if you wanted the 'experience'," Dean snaps sarcastically. 

        "I was scared..."

        "Scared of what?" Dean says with a dry laugh.

        "This guy, he tried... he tried to-" a sob wrecks up her throat as she tries to explain the situation that unfolded a few minutes prior. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't know what to do and y-you were the first person who I knew would come rescue me." A large hand falls unto her trembling one and traces along her palm in comfort. 

        "It's OK. you don't have to say anymore," Dean shushes. (Y/n) interlocks her fingers between his calloused ones and holds on tightly.

        "I won't do anything without you permission again," she whispers.

        "I know," he smiles softly, "and (Y/n)? Your grounded."