#pri writes!!

What a Flirt!

Etho x Reader

Notes: Sorry this took so long! And thank you for the compliment! I’m not too confident in most of my characterizations, but it’s good to hear you enjoy my work. :)

Word count: 792 words

Etho is an energetic man. He’s always on the move, working on some “top-secret” project, or having fun with his closest friends. The energy had always endeared you, and you and Etho had become good friends after a while. Etho is energetic as a fact of life, and recently, on top of that, Etho has become a flirt.

•

On Monday, Etho had cornered you just outside of your base, leaning against a fence post and giving you a smile.

“Have I ever told you that you have a beautiful face?,” Etho says, smiling brightly. You level him with a blank stare, and his smile wavers. “Why are you looking at me like that? I mean it!”

“Sure, Etho,” You sigh, smiling at his attempt. In recent days, Etho had seemingly made it his mission to fluster you, whether out of affection or entertainment, you can’t tell. “Come here, you’ve got a loose strap on your harness.”

Etho steps towards you, and all but halts his breathing. Your hands adjust the straps of the harness gently, fixing his elytra more tightly to his back. Looking up at his face, Etho avoids eye contact, going as far as to turn his head from you. Even still, you spot the light dusting of pink that adorns his cheeks.

“Hm. Seems like you’re losing at your own game, huh, Etho?” You tease, bringing a hand ip to poke gently at his face. He swats your hand away, his blush intensifying.

“I’m not losing at anything, I’ll have you know,” He pouts, once again swatting at your hand. “I’m not even started yet. Just you wait.” He says, puffing out his chest, similar to a bird.

“Okay, birdie, I’ll wait to see what you have in store.” You laugh, shooting his embarrassed face a glance as he realizes what you had called him.

“Hey! I am not a bird!” He says indignantly, and you laugh once again as you walk away from Etho, and as he watches you go.

•

On Tuesday, as you were brewing potions, arms deep in a cauldron with a heavy sheen of sweat over your face from the heat, Etho once again came to find you.

“You look stunning today, sweetheart,” He teases, leaning over the windowsill as he pokes his head inside of the window. “I love someone with such creative passions.” You smile, rolling your eyes.

“Etho, you should move. This potion splashes, and it causes boils on the face. It’s a prank potion, yes, but it’s still not pleasant, especially before dilution.” You tell him, and he gapes at you before standing straight up.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner! I was over that for five whole minutes!” Etho whines, placing a hand on his forehead.

•

Wednesday comes soon as well, and Etho makes haste in finding you in your garden. He sits next to you casually, laying out and facing the sun. He pulls down his mask, bathing his face in sunlight, and you note in the back of your mind that you rarely ever see him in the mask when it’s just you two.

“Fine day today, hm?” You say gently, uprooting a weed and tossing it into a wicker basket. Etho hums, eyes still closed and a peaceful smile painting his face. Smiling, you return to your weeding, systematically ripping weeds out of the ground and discarding them for future use. Etho stirs slightly, and when you look over, his eyes are locked onto you.

“Hello there. Finally awake?” You say, absentmindedly organizing your weeds into separate bundles. He doesn’t answer, but his hand finds yours relatively quickly.

“ Quiet day, huh? I get it. Would you like to join me for some tea?” You ask gently, Rubbing a thumb over the back of his hand and giving him time to reply.

“Yeah. Tea sounds nice.” He sighs, letting go of your hand to stand. He then offers his hand to you, and pulls you up. The two of you walk the few yards to your base together, hands linked at your sides. You can feel Etho’s gaze on your face, firmly locked onto you.

“You know,” Etho begins, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, “I can’t imagine life without you by my side. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed someone’s company like I’ve enjoyed yours.”

You pause mid-step, face flushed, and cover your face with your hands. Etho looks at you, confused at first, then smug.

“I did it! I told you I would-“ Etho quiets immediately as you press your lips to his, muffling whatever “i-told-you-so” he had coming.

“Yeah, yeah. You told me you would.” You smile gently, rolling your eyes as you kiss him again. “You win, Etho.”

-🐕

Baby Bear

Cub x Reader

Notes: You know it’s been a while when you have to check how you format your own posts 😅 also I forgot my own writing style?? You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I had to save my draft and check…

Word Count: 467 words

MCC creeps around the corner, each participating Hermit making preparations for the long day they’ll be gone, potentially more for server travel. However, instead of preparing yourself and your lovely boyfriend for the trip, you’re nursing him back to health. Again.

“Cub, darling, maybe you should think about investing in a thicker coat. You’ve been staying at mine for so long, and it’s so cold in this biome, that you’ve gotten three colds!” You scold him, laying another quilt over his shaking body. He groans, shaking his head.

“I don’t need a boat, what are you talking about?” He says, scrunching his face up in confusion.

“A boat? What are- Nevermind.” You sigh, rubbing at your temples. Cub coughs again, shaking slightly. I frown, shifting to stand.

“Do you need a glass of water?” You lay a hand on his forehead, checking his temperature. Burning. He squints at you.

“What did you say?” He asks, still squinting at you, as if he can’t see you well.

“I said, do you need some water?” You repeat, looking at Cub in concern.

“No! I don’t need to go to the doctor, I’ll be perfectly fine.” He huffs, and at his slightly pouty expression, you can’t help but smile gently.

Your loving mood, however, is broken by Cub coughing again, but this time, directly onto your arm. Your face immediately drops, and you look at him in a mix of disgust and horror.

“Cub, I love you more than life itself, but if you cough on me again, I will end you.” Cub just sniffles, looking at you with a sort of pitiful expression, eyes glassy.

“So what I’m hearing is that you don’t love me anymore,” He wallows, swinging an arm off the couch dramatically, letting it hang over the edge limply. You sigh, rolling your eyes with an amused smile.

“I do love you, dear, but I can’t get sick this close to MCC, it’s only a few days from now.” He just stares at the ceiling, a disgruntled look on his face. You sigh again, scooting closer to him from your spot on the floor.

“Cub, stop looking so down. You’ll be better in no time, and we can play against each other as planned.” You hum, reaching up and gently carding your hands through his hair, scratching gently at his scalp. Cub basically purrs as he leans closer into your hands, breathing deeply and relaxing.

“Y’know, maybe being sick isn’t so bad,” He murmurs, eyes half-lidded as he fights sleep. You shake your head, mentally praying that he doesn’t make it a habit. “I don’t deserve you,” He says quietly, and you smile gently, laying a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“You deserve me perfectly well, darling. Now, get some sleep, or you’ll never get better.”

so i was thinking last life! reader staying friends with n protecting Mumbo while he's on red even tho they're not, maybe paired with them trying to convince mumbo to let them give him a life

i've not seen mumbo's pov yet but from what i saw of him in others' vids he deserved so much better the poor man

-🪷

Golden Glow

Mumbo x Reader • Romantic

Word Count • 1022 words

Summary • As an argument reaches a silent crescendo, there's a resolution. While silent, it is still beautiful.

Note • God, the new year is already difficult, and it hasn't even been two weeks. Also, I'm sorry for the gaps in posting, I've been so busy with school and it feels like I can't do anything these days. Enjoy!

The field of wheat rolls out in front of you, golden stalks swaying in the wind. You had been hard at work for hours, hand-harvesting the crops with your sickle. Still, the amount of crop surpasses the sunlight you have left, the sun already starting to meet the horizon. You drop the sickle, wiping your face and looking back at the house. Mumbo sits on the porch, a bag of mixed vegetables next to him. He had come by your farm to help you, at your insistence. He had made his own conditions, however, and limited himself to pulling vegetables as to not give himself any type of weapon. You had scoffed at the words, almost offended as he gave you the reason for it. To not put himself in a position to hurt you, he said.

“To not hurt me. Void, I could laugh,” you say, crossing your arms as you scowled at him. He just withers under the look, trying idly to displace your annoyance. You finally just roll your eyes, throwing the sickle at his feet.

“Pick it up,” is all you say, and Mumbo just gapes at it.

“I. I can’t.” he finally says, standing as if to run from the tool. You pick it up, taking steady steps towards his retreating form. You catch him at the door, taking one of his hands and forcing it open. The sickle’s leather handle fits into his palm easily, having been molded over weeks of use.

“Wait-,” is all he managed to say, his hand falling to his side as you let go and step back.

“See? It’s fine. It wouldn’t even be a problem if you would just let me give you a life. You’re so stubborn,” you say, watching as his face goes from panic, to shock, and then to relief. 

“Oh my void. Never do that again,” he sighs out roughly, the relief heavy on his face. He ignores the last statement, favoring the action of walking inside.

You just frown, watching as he haphazardly drops the tool – weapon – on the porch. You follow shortly after, picking up the bag of vegetables he left on the porch in his panic. You both stop inside the kitchen and settle into your routine of washing and preparing the vegetables. He stationed himself at the sink, scrubbing the vegetables of dirt and off of their surfaces. You take the vegetables, setting aside the ones you plan to use for dinner. You begin chopping potatoes, quartering them neatly and pouring them in the pot on the stove. Neither of you pause in your actions as you talk, a well-oiled machine through years of camaraderie. 

“I saw a frog by your crops today,” Mumbo says, moving himself from the sink to the chopping boar opposite of yours on the kitchen island.

“Oh really? I haven’t seen any in a while. It’s getting close to the start of the winter and the biome closest to here is pretty cold.” you say, placing down your knife and carrying the pot of mixed vegetables to the stove. You add water, mixing spices throughout as you let it boil. Mumbo finishes cutting the last of the vegetables, pouring a mix of potatoes and carrots into the pot. Dinner comes quickly, and the two of you share the hot meal. You’re slumped at the table, the energy of the day wearing off as the fatigue of fieldwork sets in. Mumbo watches you slump, and sighs.

“Hey, go lay down. It’s late and you’re half asleep. Your stew will still be here in the morning,” he says gently, helping you out of your chair and placing both yours and his bowl on the counter. Leading you to bed, you both lay down. Your head hits the covers, and instead of sleeping, you observe Mumbo. He seems to be waiting for you to fall asleep, yet you just watch.

You stare at him as he faces the ceiling, your hands pinned under your face as you look. He’s stoic, almost unmoving as he thinks to space. The setting sun hits the window, painting his and your own face in beautiful golden-orange lighting. You almost miss his eyes darting towards the side, his eyes catching yours in the evening light. The room grows darker through your silence, and glowing reds and greens fill the space.

“Why?” Mumbo asks, his eyes finding yours in the dark. You just stare, his eyes almost maroon from the glow of his tattoo.

“Why what?” you finally say, humming quietly as he debates his answer.

“Why do you stay,” he starts, “when you would be safer anywhere else? You endanger yourself every time you step in this room, let alone get close to me. Why chance it?” He ends in a whisper, almost as if he were afraid his words would make you realize. Your face softens, and you give a small sigh.

“I stay for you, Mumbo. You’re the love of my life. I couldn’t leave you if I tried, it would hurt too much.” He just stares at the ceiling again, and you lay your head down once again. You grab his hand, and you meet no resistance like usual. You hum to fill the tense silence, and watch as green fades to yellow, until the only light you can see is that pale gold.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your eyelids drooping as you keep hold of his hand. He smiles gently at you, taking your hand and kissing the pads of your fingers. He lays your hand on his heart, and the turn of his head reveals the newly yellow tattoo.

“I should be the one thanking you,” he whispers, his eyes hazel in the light. You just sigh gently at the words, shaking your head from where it rests on your arm.

“Just go to sleep,” you whisper, and you hum as he turns on his side and wraps an arm around you. You rest gently, the faint light in the room soothing as you finally rest for what seems to have been the first time since the season’s beginning.

Any hermit you want x reader I could care less about the hermit and the plot is whatever you want :))

🧪

Twinkling Lights

Grian x Reader • Romantic

Word Count • 706 words

Summary • As the christmas season creeps closer, you do some well needed decorating.

Note • This is definitely a passion piece, and it feels really good to just write whatever I want for once. School is draining my writing spirit with all these academic papers, I swear.

Your day had started slowly, waking as the sun hit its highest point in the sky. You rolled over lazily, eyes still closed as you tried to preserve the warmth of your blankets. Eventually you found your resolve, and you decided to finally exit your bedroom. As you walked through the house, you looked into your living room and felt as if something was missing. Almost on queue, Grian opens the front door.

“Morning, love. I found us a tree!” The grin on his face is contagious, and you smile back at him.

“G’mornin to you too, birdy. Where’s the tree?” You swipe at your eyes, the bright light from outside making them water.

“Outside, Mumbo’s coming around later to help me get it in the house.” He finally steps inside, unlacing his boots and stretching his wings in the large entryway. You cross the distance between the two of you, and give him a sweet kiss.

“Great, and you can help me decorate it,” you say to Grian, and he agrees wholeheartedly.

—

Later in the evening, the tree had been set up and wiped of its snow. You had Grian help you pull out your decorations, walking in front of him as he toted the heavy box.

“Set it right there for me, love,” you say to direct him, watching as he sets down the box with a dull thud. You sit yourself next to the box, and Grian retreats towards the pile of pillows in the center of your lounge.

Untangling the string of lights is a tedious and long task, and you can see the light of the sun fading as you slowly unwind the cord. You pull out the last of the string, prying out the small knots at the very end. Grian watches as you begin to wrap the tree in the lights, walking in circles around the evergreen.

The tree glitters in the evening light, the last rays of the sun creating rainbows as they bounce off the crystal ornaments in their box. You string up the last of the lights, plugging them in and filling the now-dark room with a soft golden light.

“You know, I could use some help,” you say, giving Grian a pointed look, “This tree’s not gonna decorate itself.”

He gives an exaggerated groan as he stands up, squawking as he gets batted in the face with your wing.

“Hey! Don’t hit me,” He pouts, grabbing a few ornaments.

As you start wrapping the tinsel around the branches off the tree, he tries to stealthily hang ornaments onto your feathers. Your wings twitch slightly, making him jump back a few inches and wait to see if you noticed.

“Stop hanging ornaments on my wings.” He just giggles, starting to drape pieces of tinsel over the feathered appendages. You just sigh, letting him decorate your wings as you focused on your tree.

Grian hums a christmas song under his breath, letting out small chirps as he hits higher notes in the song. Soon you start to hum with him, both of you focused intently on your tasks. You feel Grian step back, his warm hands leaving your wings as he admires his work.

“How did I do?” He asks, walking you over to the mirror and letting you see the adornments.

“Pretty good, love. Thank you,” You lay a kiss to his cheek, pulling him along with you back to the tree. “Now that you’re done with that, you can finally help me decorate this tree.”

Grian says no weakly, reaching towards the door as if longing to escape. You just hold him there, a fond smile on your face as he groans in defeat.

“Of course, lets decorate your tree.” The two of you hang ornaments quietly, occasionally batting your wings at one another to break the calming silence. At last, you step pack from the decorated tree and admire your work.

“It looks lovely,” Grian says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“We did do a great job, if I say so myself,” You sigh, admiring the golden lights and shimmering ornaments. As you turned to Grian and saw the light reflecting off of his face, you fell in love all over again.

Wavering, Unwavering

Etho x Reader ▪︎ Romantic

Word Count ▪︎ 389 words

Summary ▪︎ With wavering hands and steady resolve, you begin to plan. When wrist pain stops that, Etho is there to help.

Note ▪︎ I actually have pretty poor circulation, and I get very cold in my extremities, so this is very close to home! The wrist pain is actually something I get too, but not very often. I hope you enjoy this one!

You had always had problems with your hands. Poor circulation caused many drawbacks, particularly bad when it came to your hands. You already got cold easily, a chill falling over you at any given moment, but your hands constantly felt like they were dipped in ice water. Your hands also shook terribly, your writing scratchy and wavering due to tge unsteadiness. Another effect of your poor circulation was achy wrists, and the dull pains that shot through your fingers when you used your hands for too long.

It wasn't usually a problem, since you didn't write often, but making blueprints for the new season had ruined your plan. You sat with Etho, across from eachother at matching desks as you drafted your blueprints.

You make a face, a sharp pain shooting through your wrist and fading into a dull throb. You drop the pen lightly, rubbing your wrist as you try to get over the dull ache shooting through it. Etho looks over slightly, watching as you twist your wrist gently.

"Is your wrist feeling okay? I can get you ice if you need." He says, gently taking your hand and cradling your wrist.

"I'm good, love," you reply, pulling your hand back and picking up the pen. You continue to write while Etho watches carefully, your hand shaking slightly. You continue to focus on tbe page, your penmanship wavering slightly as your hands tremble. Eventually you sigh, setting down the pen once again to hold your wrist.

"Maybe some ice would help," you say gently, smiling wryly at Etho. He lets out a small chuckle before standing and leaving to, presumably, get ice.

You wait, rubbing your hands together to stave off the sudden cold layering over them. Etho comes back seconds later, a towel laying in a bowl of water. He lies the towel over your wrists, and you startle slightly when the warm water touches your skin.

"I thought ice might make your hands too cold, so I brought you a warm towel instead," he hums, and clasps your hands between his own. You smile at him, and lay your head on his shoulder as he sits next to you.

"Thank you, Etho," You say, turning your head slightly to kiss him on the cheek. Etho blushes slightly, and just smiles at you as a reply.

Sick Days

Xisuma and Reader • Platonic

Word Count • 240 words

Summary • When you get sick, your dad is always there to help.

Note • This isn’t very long because I didn’t have very many good ideas, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

You had woken up feeling off. Your day started just like it usually did on your off days, with you waking up past noon and your dad making you lunch. You heard him in the kitchen, the sound of a knife hitting a chopping board telling you that that wasn’t the off part. When you stood up out of to go help make lunch, nausea hit you. You wobble, face flushed as you finally pinpoint what was wrong.

“I think ‘m sick,” You slur, stumbling slightly to lean against the kitchen counter. Xisuma looks over, his face painted with concern. He pulls off a glove, gently placing the back of his hand on your forehead to check your temperature.

“Oh, you’re burning up.” He mutters, wrapping you in a hug. You lean against him, testing your forehead against the cool metal of his chest plate. He lets you go gently, and you groan at the lack of cold.

“I’m grabbing you ice, don’t worry,” Xisuma says, and you move to sit against the fridge.

He bags the ice, wrapping it in a towel before handing it to you. He sits down next to you, letting you lean on him as you iced your head. You doze off against him as he tells you a story about him as a child.

“G’night dad,” you yawn, shuffling closer into his side. He smiles gently at you, patting you on the head.

“Goodnight.”

Shattered Terracotta

Tango x Reader ▪︎ Romantic

Word Count ▪︎ 531 words

Summary ▪︎ As much as you were patient, you couldn't help but get upset sometimes. This time, it's because your husband and his friends keep breaking things.

Note ▪︎ I hope I did this request justice, I struggled a little bit with this one. I hope you enjoy!

You and Tango have been partners for years, having met when he joined for a day season 2. You met briefly when he came onto the server to help Mumbo with the Iron Foundry, and it had been like love at first sight. When the two of you talked for the first time, something in you told you that he was the one.

Ever since then, the two of you spent time together constantly, never being able to stat away from eachother for long. You were Tango's opposite, but you were undoubtedly his other half. You got married late in season 4, and at the beginning of season 5, you built a base together. That's been your routine for every season, and you've never lived in separate bases since.

Sharing a base has come with a bit of difficulty, though. Most of it was the fact that you're an extremely light sleeper, and Tango snores very loudly. Sometimes, though, the problem is the friends that Tango invites. Namely, Bdubs and Impulse. As polite at the two try to be, every time they come into your house something ends up broken, and this time was no different.

From the kitchen, you hear the three of them enter, with Tango calling out a short greeting. The trio pass the entrance to the kitchen, Bdubs smiling and Impulse waving at you before he passes. They end up in the living room, judging from the sound coming from the back wall of the kitchen.

It only takes a few minutes before you hear the telltale sound of breaking glass, and you heave out an annoyed sigh. Your day already hadn't been the best, and paired with this, it pushed ypu over the edge. You make your way to the living room, and stare down the two of them with a scowl.

"What did you do?" you hiss at them, and they all start to speak at the same time to explain themselves.

"Well, it was an accident!" Tango offers up and you roll your eyes.

"It's always an accident, but then you still break my plant pots," you say in exasperation. You glare at the three, two of which immediately freeze at the look on your face. Tango just smiles sweetly at you, swooning slightly as he wraps his arms around your waist and blocks the other two from your sight.

"I'm sorry, love," Tango says, and then kisses you sweetly. You almost decide to forgive him before you realize what he's doing.

"Pretty names and kisses won't save you, Tango," You say as you pull back from his arms.

He sighs, "I really thought that would work." You look at the other two, who smile sheepishly when they notice your eyes on them.

"All three of you go make me new flower pots," you tell them as you begin to gather the shards of terracotta into your hands. The three immediately start to do so, leaving you in the living room with sore eyes and dirt on the floor. As you sweep up the dirt, you think, What am I gonna do with them?

Disheveled Feathers

Grian x Reader ▪︎ Romantic

Word Count ▪︎ 540 words

Summary ▪︎ With love and care, you take care of your boyfriend's wonderful wings. That may or may not lead to a wing fight, though.

Note ▪︎ Old fashioned domestic fluff for the soul. I feel like this, and the other fics to be posted, is a great apology for my last Ren post. Enjoy!

In the early hours of the morning, before the sun arcs across the sky, you rest with your boyfriend. The quiet in your room is tranquil, the two of you sleeping peacefully. Stirring slightly in his sleep, Grian throws out a wing and manages to hit you in the face. You wake with a start, spitting out bright red feathers and rubbing your eyes. Your own wings stretch behind you, slightly sore from sleeping on your back. His wing, having slid from your face to resting against your torso, twitches.

You study the feathered appendage, and grimace once you take in the state of his feathers. You could see new multicolored feathers capping, and loose feathers were crooked in their rows. You had no room to speak, however, your wings were probably in an even worse state. Deciding that being up this early wasn't worth it, you fall back onto the pillows and go back to sleep.

---

Officially starting your morning, you push Grian off of your shared bed. He hits the ground with a loud thump, and pops his head up a few seconds later.

"Wha'?" He slurs, still half asleep, and tries to climb back onto the bed. You narrow your eyes at him, and watch as he slips straight back off of the bed.

"Get up, I have to preen your wings," you say with a yawn.

Grian finally manages to get back onto the bed, and sits slumped infront of you. You take one of his wings into your hands, and ask him to stretch it out. Once he does, you begin running your hands through the silky feathers. You use the tips of your fingers to uncap stuck feathers, gently helping the feathers unfurl.

You continue your actions methodically, and the two of you sit together quietly. Grian's back faces you as you sift through the feathers on his wings, and every so often, he lets out a small chirp that you echo. It was lovely to relax with him, with no expectation of conversation.

"Done," you hum, your wings fluttering as you push yourself sideways to roll off of the bed. Grian stretches his wings back, a pop sounding from his back.

"Thank you," he days to you, and smiles at you brightly. You roll your eyes and swat at his face with your own oversized wing. He squawks at you and bats a wing back.

"How dare you! Don't hit me," he says and pushes your wing away from him with an open palm.

"I'll hit you if I want to,"you mumble back, and manage to land a hit on him with your wing. He reels backwards, some of your loose feathers stuck in his hair. Grian glares at you, and you just lightly hit him with your wing once again.

"Fine, just leave me alone," he groans dramatically, and falls forwards onto the bed. You push yourself off of the ground with a huff, and pick up a pillow from the bed. Swinging it at Grian, he lets out a small scream when it hits him.

"You think I'm gonna give you the last word? Yeah right," you laugh, and leave the room quickly, and leave Grian scrambling to follow you.