#i realise how silly and privileged this sounds.

[popsicle-stick]

alexa play take the long way home by supertramp.......................

[sp4ceboo]

NO NEED FOR ME TO HIDE🙏🏾🙏🏾

Bestie, are you going to continue Atonement universe?🥺 I am very curious on how their interactions could look like in the future, now that they have an accurate understanding of their intents

A/N: U ASKED JUST THE RIGHT QUESTION MY FAVOURITE BUNNY, but bc im evil i've made this into a bunch of feyd headcanons even tho no one asked

tw: 18+, smut headcanons (switch feyd ladies and gents), cannibalism (by the harpies), i dropkick everyone with feyd's trauma, therefore mentions of sa and pedophilia (fuck you vladimir), 'who did this to you' because man if that's not one of the yummiest things ever, nightmares, children and pregnancy, also sterility, swearing somewhere probably,

wc: 2.3k

part 1 (this can be read as a stand alone, it's just feyd headcanons)

feyd does everything he can to make up for how he treated you in the first months of your marriage

you assure him that it's fine, that he doesn't have to beat himself up over what he has done, but you still notice the pain in his eyes when he looks at you

he hovers close to you at all times, keeping a hand at the small of your back or pulling you close into his side

it's a strange process, only getting to know your husband in the fourth month of your marriage, but it's a process that you treasure

you'll ask him silly things from his favourite food to his opinions on the carvings on the table over there whenever the questions occur to you

it's late at night, while he's gently cleaning you up after sex or holding you tightly in his arms, your head tucked under his chin, when he tells you the deeper, more painful things

the grief in his voice is so raw as he describes to you how his uncle pitted him and rabban against each other from a young age, how his childhood was stolen from him - you ache for him, for the things that were taken from him before he could even fight for them

you find out about his nightmares soon after that - not because he tells you, but because one happens

you suspect there was something he wasn't quite ready to tell you, but you didn't press; no hands have handled feyd's heart the way he lets you, and you're determined to honour that privilege

a storm howls outside, and you think that the rumbles of thunder were what woke you

you turn over and realise it's feyd, his features contorted with fear even in his sleep, eyes rolling under the lids as he trembles, broken pleas leaving his lips

all you catch is a 'don't' and a 'please, uncle'

something cold slithers down your spine

touching his face, you grab his shoulder, shaking him, whispering his name, trying to wake him gently

a tear leaks down his cheek, and a meek sound leaves him, ripping your heart in two - you need to wake him up, free him from this dream

'feyd.'

his eyes snap open, and in them, you clearly see the expression of a trapped, cornered animal

you say his name again, and he looks at you sharply, unseeing

he's awake and yet somehow he's still trapped in the nightmare; he wraps his hands around your throat, and you gasp, nails digging into his forearms in an effort to wake him up

with precious air, you rasp out his name again, and he blinks, slowly gaining consciousness

his face crumples when he finds his hands around your neck

distress limns his features as he backs away from you, shaking his head, horrified by his own doing

your head spins with lack of air but you reach out to him, refusing to let him slip away - you snare him in your arms, hold him tightly, kiss his face

he doesn't move, afraid to hurt you

you pull back to stare him in the eyes

'i'm okay. i am okay. you hear me, feyd? i'm fine. i'm not hurt.'

he buries his face in your shoulder and when you feel hot tears on your skin, rage simmers and seethes, wrathful in your chest

'who did this to you?'

your voice is dripping with fury; he shakes with a sob, and you run your hands up and down his back, trying to soothe him and the anger inside you

eventually, he calms, and you tilt his face up, gently wiping the tears off his cheeks, waiting

he holds out his arms again, and you oblige him, letting him hide his face in your shoulder as he tells you the substances of his nightmares - memories of the baron, eyes rabid, hands reaching, and it makes you tremble with rage

you crush feyd in your grip, and he clings onto you, his eyes wet, letting you anchor his drowning spirit

the two of you fall asleep twined together, feyd cradled in your embrace

in the morning, you cup his face in your hands and tell him that you will protect him, fight for him, love him until your blood stills in your veins

one of the first thing feyd does is dismiss his harpies from their duties

originally, he was going to get rid of them permanently, but you convinced him not to, telling him you wanted to meet them

to be honest, feyd didn't really understand (he thought you wanted to 'use' them for a bit and was kind of taken aback until you reassured him you just wanted to talk to them)

he stayed in the room anyways, knowing that his harpies could be jealous, but he had nothing to fear

all you do is chat to them, and in the same way you charmed him, you charm them

feyd marvels at the way you reach out to them and connect with them with so much ease, laughing and joking with them, complimenting their pretty eyes and tattoos as if they are your long time friends

from then on, they are no longer feyd's harpies, but yours

they accompany you around the palace and sometimes to court

the latter causes quite a stir; none of the nobles can make sense of why the na-baron's feral cannibal troupe are now dressed in fine clothing and following the na-baronness around

you enjoy their company - they brighten your day considerably, and are not afraid to make remarks a little too loudly in front of nobles

you have to hide your laughter when one of them comments on the scruffy facial hair of the duke addressing feyd, even more so when he stares at them wide eyed, a little fearful of them

in a way, they protect you and you protect them

if a noble approaches you with disrespect, they'll joke loudly among themselves about the taste of his flesh

in the same way, if someone makes a snide remark of their presence, you're quick to challenge it

the perplexed look on feyd's face amuses you to no end when he realises they prefer you now

feyd and the harpies teach you about harkonnen culture

feyd especially tells you stories about how he hunted on forests long cut down when he was a boy, and you love to listen to him, watching his face and drinking in the softer, nostalgic tone in his voice

he shows himself to you in little ways

feyd complains to you about the nobles in the court, how he hates their decorum and their entitlement

he talks to you for hours about different fighting forms, occasionally getting up to demonstrate them to you, and you marvel at the accuracy and fluidity of his movements

he takes you to his favourite parts of giedi prime, shows you the volcanoes and the less polluted parts of the capital city

he tells you the story of every scar on his body, and you find yourself captivated by the look in his eyes as he recalls a good fight

he whispers on your skin promises - promises of love, sweet on his tongue but never cloying, always true

in turn he asks you about your old life, about your home planet and your family

you answer happily, loving the way his eyes follow you, their blue tone becoming your favourite colour

you tell him about the time you visited to see him fight, how you saw the fire within him even then, and he chuckles, enthralled by the idea that even when the two of you were too young to really comprehend what your arranged marriage meant, you were still drawn to each other

he tells you how when he raised his knife, victorious, he spotted you in the crowd - a small girl, her back ram rod straight - and thought you were the sweetest thing he'd ever laid his eyes on

not that you seemed breakable to him; no, he thought you were formidable, too, not even bothering to hide your frown in an arena of cheering, happy faces

it felt right that he would marry a woman who wasn't afraid of him

feyd teaches you how to fight

he delights in the way you grow so bold with him, delivering snarky remarks if he teases you, rising to meet everything he throws at you

you're a good fighter - unpredictable in your moves - and he's immeasurably proud that he was the one who taught you

sometimes, once you're good enough to duel, you'll end up staggering to the nearest somewhat secluded area to fuck

now that you know you're not alone, you're so confident of yourself, confident in the electrifying look in your eyes and confident in the way you make him beg

feyd never thought he'd like to give up control, but with you it's addicting

he trusts you

he lets you ravage him, lets you use him until he's spent, panting, thighs shaking, knowing that you would let him do the same - knowing that you do let him do the same

there's something so raw about letting himself go in your touch

his head spins when you tie him up, your deft fingers checking the knots and tightening the bindings across his torso, making art with his skin as the canvas

feyd is addicted to you in every aspect

he can't get enough of your pussy; he'd spend hours between your legs, pulling sounds out of you that you didn't know you could make

he thinks that the closest he's ever come to heaven is when he's buried balls deep in your cunt while you beg him harder, faster

A/N: i couldn't choose between these two scenarios so have both

EITHER after almost a year, you begin to wonder why you haven't pregnant

especially with the way feyd fucks you

so you seek the help of a doctor - the test results come back a week after, accusatory, damning

you're sterile

your first reaction is to tell feyd, but once you find yourself face to face with him, his gaze concerned as he holds your waist, you can't tell him

you just fall into his arms, staying your tears, doubts crawling into your skull and gnawing at the edges of your mind

you can't give him an heir

there's no way around it

what if he takes a concubine? what if he realises you serve no purpose to him? what if he stops loving you?

feyd doesn't pry about the tests results until the next day when he finds you in the shower, hands trembling and head bowed

he tips your chin up so he can look you in the eye

'tell me what troubles you, my love.'

so you do, with his fingers curled around your waist, the shower water running over your skin

he kisses you once you finish, and it tears at his heart the way you're looking up at him, trying to hide the worry in your eyes as you wait for his reply

feyd doesn't mince his words when he tells you that he doesn't care if you cannot give him an heir, that all he asks of you is to let him love you - it's then that the tears fall, and he kisses them away, holding you close to him

you grieve for the children you can never have, but feyd remains by you, almost supernatural with the way he senses your pain

your gaze might fall upon one of the servant's children, causing an ache in your heart, and within a few seconds his fingers will twine with yours and he'll tuck you into his side, kissing your hair

OR you have twins: one girl, one boy

the girl is three minutes older than the boy

feyd is obssessed with your pregnant body; he always has his hands on you in some way

he gets more protective, if that's possible

sometimes he lies between your thighs, his palms spread over your stomach as he talks to the two of them, and the softness and wonder in his eyes brings a warmth to your chest

feyd is with you when you feel the first contraction and promptly carries you to the midwives

he lets you crush his hand in your grip as you give birth to the lives you've made together, wiping the sweat off your forehead and quietly encouraging you

the first time you hand them to him to hold, he's hesitant, hands fluttering over you as he figures out what to do, but he's a fast learner

there's a fierce protective glint in his eyes when he cradles them in his arms, one that you glimpse when he looks at you too, and within it there's a deep, pure joy

he teaches them how to fight, and yet he's still so gentle with them, laughing as they giggle and cling to him, one latched onto each leg

the girl is how you'd imagine feyd was as a boy: half feral, yet charming when she wants to be, while the boy is a little calmer, more unflappable, and happy to entertain his sister's mischievous endeavours

both love the harpies, and there have been multiple times when you walk in on the twins gaping wide eyed at the harpies as they regale them with old tales

sometimes, feyd will scoop them up, one in each arm, so they can reach up and give you a little kiss on the cheek before he pecks your lips

you think it's beautiful, the family that you've made with him

feyd loves the way you look at him, with that mischief in your eyes, as if you're sharing a secret with him

he loves your sweet laughter, the softness in your hands when you touch him and how you don't shy away from protecting him, defiant even in his uncle's presence

he knows he would kill for you, die for you - he'd do anything for you

you would do the same: it makes feyd's head fuzzy, when you get so fiercely protective over him, placing your hand on his shoulder as you glare at the baron, lacing your words with venom when you address him

you'd stop at nothing, just to protect his honour

when you're after something, nothing stands in your way, and yet you can handle him with such soft, gentle hands, banishing his nightmares with the light tracing of your fingertips on his back

feyd heals in your presence, and you grow in his

your love is eternal

[senualothbrok]

Nocturnal postulations

Summary: A response to @inglorionamy-ammy's prompt about a Tav who gets grumpy when sleep-deprived, reacting to a Gale who sleep-talks a lot and then jokes about it.

Featuring borrowed in-game banter between Gale and Lae'zel.

Word count: 1k

A/N: Just a little silly something - I may or may not have channelled my own inability to stay mad at Gale and clingy nature towards the end. @inglorionamy-ammy and all - hope you like it!

It is more a shove than a nudge. You jolt awake, then wince and hunch back into yourself. You are exhausted. The morning sunlight sears your eyes as you fumble at the grilled sausage that was halfway to your mouth. 

“Chk.” Lae'zel grizzles beside you. “If I must wake you one more time, you’d do better to remain in your bedroll. You'll only drag us down on the battlefield in this” – she wrinkles her nose – “state.”

You yawn, glaring, sullen. You have not had a proper night's sleep for weeks. At this moment, all you want is pure, unadulterated silence. You cannot summon the energy to grunt, much less talk. From your other side, Gale waves a dismissive hand.

“Come now, Lae'zel,” he huffs. You flinch a little at his jolliness. “Not all of us are so eager for the delights of the day. Give Tav some time.”

Lae’zel narrows her eyes. She jerks her head brusquely. 

“Gale.” She grimaces at you. “I've heard you talking in your sleep. Your mate needs better rest for our journey.”

Gale's eyebrows lift. The smirk he flashes would usually be endearing.

“And deprive her of the pleasure of hearing my nocturnal postulations?” He chuckles. “I'd never be so cruel.”

You have the urge to press down Gale's waggling finger as you rub at your temples and your eyes. He tuts.

“The mind absorbs much while we believe ourselves dormant. To lie beside Gale of Waterdeep is positively educational.”

Lae'zel snorts. You stare at Gale, your eyebrow twitching. Gale continues obliviously.

“I’d say it's a privilege, to share in the pleasures of my mind and body.” He bobs his head brightly. “What’s a little sleep compared to that?”

You consider yourself a patient person. You love Gale with all your heart. But for weeks, you have tossed and turned beside him, plugging your ears and stifling screams through his incoherent, neverending ramblings. You are so tired you could cry. All you want is a good night's sleep. One, just one. Is that too much to ask?

A sharp groan bursts out of you. You fling your half eaten sausage on the ground and storm back into your tent.

****

You are scowling as you stuff your satchel for the day ahead. Grumbling to yourself, you hear a shuffling behind you, a nervous cough. 

“My love.” He clears his throat. “Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” Your voice sounds pinched and petty, but you do not care. “I've had the privilege of your nocturnal postulations. So riveting. So educational. How could I not be alright?”

You realise that your satchel is full to bursting at this point. You swear as you struggle to fasten it shut.

He drifts into your vision, hovering anxiously. You know you are becoming a stereotype, a caricature, when you have always thought yourself reasonable and kind. But his lack of understanding infuriates you. 

He scratches his head. “My love, I'm not sure–”

“I'm exhausted, Gale,” you snap. “I need sleep. Can't you see that?” 

His brows steeple, realisation flashing across his face. 

“It isn't a joke,” you seethe. “It isn't funny. It's been weeks. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

His eyes widen. “Tav, I didn't realise–”

You jerk your hands. “Don't give me that face, those big cow eyes, like it's me who's done something wrong.”

But he looks so guilty, so upset, that you cannot continue. You let out a weary sigh, dropping your satchel on the ground in defeat. This is a battle you have no strength to fight. And you would never want to fight him, no matter how incensed you are with his jokes.

“I know you can't help it,” you mumble after a while. “You're literally asleep. You have no control over it.” 

Gale opens his mouth, then closes it. You can feel his mind racing, each thought stumbling over itself in desperate contrition, fearful that any word he utters will only make things worse. Seeing him like this, you cannot help but feel shame at your anger.

“I’m sorry, Tav,” he breathes eventually. “I was insensitive, flippant. I never meant to make light of your grievances. Nothing matters more to me than your struggles. I would never dismiss them.”

He reaches for your hand. As your fingers interlace with his, you let your walls crumble Your fire simmers away.

“Why didn't you tell me?” His voice is pained. “I could have gone back to my tent. I could have figured out a spell, some remedy to stop it. To give you some peace.”

By instinct, you shake your head, sharp and resolute. He looks at you in confusion. You chew your lip. Gingerly, you wrap your arms around him, burying your face into the crook of his neck. His body tenses in surprise, then softens into you, his hand resting on the back of your head. 

“Because I like sleeping with you,” you admit. “It's...not the same…without you. I can't sleep anymore…if you're not with me.”

You feel exposed, somehow, caught in a trap of your own making. Now your fury feels ridiculous, insane. He must see it. But he huffs, and you can hear the grin that tugs at his lips. He holds you closer, enjoying your need to be closer. Sharing in it.

“Be that as it may,” he says softly, “I'll let you sleep alone tonight. You clearly need some rest.”

You cling to him more tightly. Your body yearns for sleep, but bemoans the idea of sleeping without him. He senses it immediately. He laughs a little, a wave of gentle affection that rumbles through you, as he nuzzles the crown of your head.

“Well, then,” he sighs. “At the very least, I'll make sure you fall asleep first. And should I talk in my sleep, you have permission to wake me, or send me back to my own bedroll. Is that an acceptable compromise?”

You look up at him, nodding slowly. How could you ever be mad at him? His lips graze your forehead, and the feeling of his beard on your skin is as soothing as a lullaby. 

“I will be working on the remedy though,” he mutters. “There must be a spell for it–”

You silence his ramblings with a kiss.

****

Liked this drabble? Check out my other work

[11natrium]

I suppose that I might share some feeling regarding my own masculinity I've been having about myself to the world, perhaps some will find them relatable.

tl;dr - I'm AMAB, and while I struggled with accepting my masculinity, trans men made me feel at peace and safe with it, and I cannot thank them enough.

Now for the longer version:

For quite a while now (a few years, in fact), I have been struggling with my masculinity, as an AMAB person. I grew to feel super uncomfortable with the implications that came from being a "man", at least as it can be stereotypically understood. I know very well that masculinity has positive aspects, like strength or reliability, but being called a "man" made me also feel like someone automatically perceived as aggressive, or dangerous, or a sex pest, or a creep. As far as I'm aware, I am none of that - but I can't help that being "a man" makes me feel like someone who poses some sort of danger, or is a threat to those around them. It no doubt comes from experiencing toxic masculinity - more so from my peers and general society, as I'm thankfully privileged to have a normal family, where everyone is, well, normal and supportive and non-abusive. Still, that toxic masculinity, or hearing about certain men being just, fucking losers, made me want to detach myself from being called a "man".

This is partially why I embraced the identity of a demiboy. Someone mostly masculine, but still someone who does not want to call themselves a man. To be clear - there is more to my identity than just discomfort with stereotypical masculinity. I have interest in outfits and activities perceived as feminine, there are subtleties to how I like to picture myself in art, using a feminine name (Marcy) towards myself, using gender neutral pronouns (they/them) etc. - it goes deeper than just what I outlined above. That's a story for another day, though, what matters for this post is that I felt that unease with my own masculinity.

I guess this is where trans men come in. Briefly - over time, as I interacted with trans men and transmasc folks in general, I started to feel a weird sort of appreciation, maybe even jealousy for them, like I wished I was more like them myself. Eventually, I started to realise that their comfort and the gender euphoria they feel from being masculine made me feel more at peace and secure with my own masculinity. Seeing as one can feel genuine joy from being a man, from the masculinity they themselves worked to achieve, and from the positive aspects of that masculinity, while also rejecting the toxic parts of it... It just, makes me feel SO much better with myself as well.

Perhaps it sounds silly or obvious? But that realisation that I do NOT have to embrace all the baggage that comes with masculinity, and I can instead pick and choose parts of it, shaping my own version of being a man that makes me feel comfortable is something that made me feel massively better with myself. Being a silly guy gives me genuine gender euphoria - so I just embrace that "silly guy" part of masculinity, and give up on the toxic parts of it, like aggressive dominance, or hierarchical view of the world.

Going onwards, I don't think I'll be changing my pronouns from they/them, or drop the demiboy description of my identity. As I said - there is more to my identity that just discomfort for being called a man. But at least, I can be at peace with my own masculinity.

I genuinely have every single trans man and transmasculine person to thank for it. You made my life better, and I could never show properly just how deep my appreciation for you all goes.

While it doesn't really apply to me, I'm certain that trans women and transfeminine people have a similar influence for cis and gnc women. In fact, I have read a similar post from a female perspective before, and I have no doubts that this post influenced my realisation in how much more comfortable I am with my own masculinity thanks to transmasculine folks.

Trans people are a gift to this world. Their presence alone makes the world such a more beautiful place, period. I wish them all plenty of luck and joy going onwards! And once more - thank you all.

[kenniko]

I wrote a kenniko fic!! (and uploaded it on ao3!)

~don't forget me (I beg)~

pairing: Niko/Kenny of Beta Squad

summary: For Niko's wedding day, he asked Kenny to be his bestman. How would Kenny have the audacity to deny the offer? He would do it in a heartbeat. But somehow, for reasons Kenny hoped would fade as they grew, he hoped that he would do it without a heavy heart. He had hoped that the love he felt for Niko would fade. Maybe not.

[angst, unrequited love, hurt/no comfort]

•┈୨♡୧┈•

"Kenny, Kenny, Ken!" Niko shouted at Kenny.

They had just finished filming for a Beta Squad video, and everyone had already left the set except for Niko and Kenny and some of the remaining staff. They had planned to go out for lunch together. Just to catch up on what's going on with their lives. Niko was busy with his girlfriend. It was the only topic they talked about whenever they're together or with the boys.

So it wasn't a surprise when they went for that lunch at Nando's, that Niko told Kenny that he already proposed to Sophia, and obviously she said yes. But what was actually surprising was when Niko told Kenny that he wanted Kenny to be not just a groomsman, but the best man. Kenny thought that Niko would ask George, or any other person that's not Kenny. Niko has plenty of friends after all.

"What?" Kenny had told Niko, with mouth filled with coke.

"I want you to be my best man. I'm going to tell the boys to be my groomsmen on Tuesday when we go out for dinner. Back me up on this?" Niko had never sounded so serious before.

A little bit of unwelcomed feelings erupted inside Kenny. As rude, and as mean as it sounds, Kenny hoped that Niko would not go into the stage of marriage. But that's just his selfishness talking, he truly wanted himself to be happy for his brother, Niko helped him alot, and Kenny really just wanted him to be happy. And unfortunately, Niko was happiest when he's with Sophia.

How long has it been since Kenny realised that what he felt for Niko wasn't a casual brotherly love? Kenny hoped, he really hoped, that that foolish feelings would fade as they both grew up into the men they are. But it was sad to say, love is a very complicated feeling and it is a very hard thing to control. Kenny had always found "love" in terms of romantics, a curse. It only brought misfortune. It only punched Kenny in the gut, always left him awake at night and unable to sleep. Every second of his life, like a fog in his mind, like a shadow that never leaves him alone, the same smile kept appearing in his head, the same laugh and voice kept ringing in his ear.

Kenny, at some point, might've reached the point of insanity because of it. But the man who made him crazy, was also the man who helped him heal. If that wasn't a curse, then what is? Kenny had been cursed by the greatest curse of all. And Kenny hoped it would stop, but he wouldn't be lying when he said he loved every single second of that internal suffering.

"Me? Best man?" Kenny said. It was a great privilege to be chosen as a groomsman, it showed that they are very important to the groom. Best man was more than that. Kenny would've expected Niko to choose his brother as the best man. That would've made more sense.

"Kenny, why are you so surprised? Didn't we talk about this back when we were kids? You know I'll never go back on my words. We promised each other that we'll be each other's biggest supporters. When we get married, we'll be there giving cringey, silly speeches, and we'll be each other's best man. Nothing changed since then; you'll always be my most important friend, Ken."

Kenny felt a lump form in his throat. Indeed they did. They promised each other that whatever happens in the future, they'll always be by each other's side. Through thick and thin, and through all the ups and downs in life, they'll go through it together. That was what they promised, and when they made that promise, Kenny brought up marriage for reasons Kenny couldn't remember why. Maybe Kenny was already knees deep in love with Niko at the time.

When Kenny brought up marriage, Niko continued it because Niko's aunt had just gotten married a week before that, so Niko somehow knew everything about weddings. It was his first wedding where he could actually remember and understand what was going on. Kenny had only went to two weddings at that stage of time, and it was when he was still a toddler, and as a child that couldn't understand what was going on. So Niko explained everything to Kenny about it. Bridesmaids and groomsmen, and finally to the topic of the best man.

Niko had said about how a best man is the groom's most trusted person, where if anything goes wrong with the event, or the marriage, or just with the groom's life, and the groom wasn't able to say anything to his family or wife, he would be able to tell his best man. The most important person in the groom's life (with an exception of parents and obviously, wife). That is the best man. And like children, they gave a pinky promise to each other, how they would be each other's best man when they get married. Because at the time, and until then, even until now, they are and always will be each other's most important person.

Just by the thought of it, Kenny almost teared up. They had grown up so much, from those little kids that are just horrible at academics and school, boys that dropped out of university without two shits about their future, and ended up being lectured by their parents. How they would get out of the house to see each other despite being grounded, and when they came home, they'd be hit by their moms. Now, Niko's getting married, having a family.

Time flies very fast, but Kenny's love for Niko stays the same. Never moving, and not slow, not fast either. Unwavering like a statue.

"I just thought you'd choose your brother, or George."

"I thought about that as well, but my mind always comes back to you. You know me better than anyone, I know you better than anyone. We even promised each other, there's a lot of reasons to choose you. So, do you....?"

"Of course I'll be your best man, Niko. I'm so happy for you man. Congratulations. "

Niko smiled, and just hummed and continued eating.

"So when's the wedding?"

"Next year, probably around July, the actual date..don't know yet but it's either 23 or 24."

"Alright."

___________

The actual date was 24 July, and the whole venue was very beautiful. The groomsmen and Kenny wore grey suits, the bridesmaid also grey but a bit more sparkly. Sharky said it was silver. Kenny couldn't care less. Which was very irresponsible, and very mean of him, considering the fact that he's the best man.

Kenny and the whole team had a very tough time trying to make everything perfect, especially when there are so many people in the team. Sophia had 8 bridesmaids, and groomsmen the same amount. And all of them have a very dominant clash of personalities, just like Niko and Sophia. They both have very different tastes, Niko liked it when it's simpler, he loved the greens and wished that there would be a lot of plants. Sophia wanted a lot of lights and candles, with a few flowers, but mostly modern. It was hard to take both into consideration. But everything went well in the end, except for Chunkz who ended up with a small spark of hatred towards one of Sophia's bridesmaids.

They were all in their separate rooms now, a few minutes left until people started coming in. Niko's parents and family members, also Sophia's were all greeting the guests. Some of the groomsmen and bridesmaids were also welcoming the guests and double checking everything.

The only ones in the room with Niko are Kenny, George, and Sharky.

Kenny was adjusting Niko's bow, a habit the two always shared whenever they had to wear formal clothing -it was usually a tie, now Niko's wearing an actual tuxedo for his marriage- when Niko started speaking.

"I'm scared, you know?"

Kenny looked up, George was at the back making sure Niko's outfit was neat. Sharky was there taking pictures, also helping from time to time. For moral support.

"Don't be scared. It's your big day! You should be happy."

Kenny meant every word. Between the two of them, at least one had to be happy, at least one of them had to be brave. Kenny's not the one to do all that. All the time Kenny spent preparing everything, calling up people, discussing with the wedding planners, every single second was like a stab to the side of his stomach. It's not an instant death, but it really fucking hurt.

But Kenny could never bring himself to dislike Sophia, because Niko was never his to begin with. Kenny never said anything to Niko, he kept his feelings locked away. Kenny only had himself to blame. Plus, Sophia also became a very good friend of Kenny, she was sweet and kind, he can see why Niko fell for her. She was a very strong woman, stern and powerful, just like Niko. Kenny knew Niko liked powerful people just like him, he liked it when people stood up for themselves and when they're confident in their own body.

That was one of the reasons why Kenny considered boxing in the first place, if Niko could see how strong he was, how powerful he was, maybe, Niko would fall for him too. High hopes result in the highest of disappointments they say.

"You brought a napkin, right Ken? Cause I think I'm going to cry."

Kenny laughed, even while he was hurting inside, Niko would always bring a smile to his face. Like it had always been.

"I brought two, cause I think I'm going to cry too."

The four men in the room started laughing. When Niko looked neat and tidy. Kenny took a step back, so did George. Sharky was already far so he didn't need to.

Niko looked at himself in the mirror.

"Okay. We have to leave now, don't wrinkle up your fit and-" Niko's hands were on their way to touch his bowtie. "Do not touch that as well." Kenny said as he slapped Niko's hand playfully.

"You're happy for me, right Ken?" Niko didn't know why he asked that. But he felt like he needed to say it, needed to confirm that Kenny was completely happy for him. Niko already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it. Niko felt like he also needed some sort of confirmation from Kenny, Niko's excited to have a life with Sophia, but he wanted Kenny to be happy too. Happy for him. Because everything that Niko did in his life, before he even met Sophia, Niko's first priority is to make sure Kenny's not disappointed in him, that Kenny is also happy for him.

Kenny is half his soul, before he realised that there was more to his soul than just half. There was plenty of room, and Sophia filled the empty spaces.

Kenny couldn't answer with a yes or no. Because he knew his honest feelings, he knew the answer, and he didn't want to say it.

"Stop asking stupid questions, Niko. I know you're nervous, but you'll be fine. "

Of course Kenny would mock him. It wasn't an answer Niko wanted, but it was an answer from Kenny. And Kenny ended it with his laugh that always brightens up Niko's mood.

"Okay. You guys go now. See you guys. " Niko said with a full grin.

The three men left the room and went to where the others were.

On their way to the aisle, to stand besides the groom. Kenny's head was just replaying the speech he needed to make in front of the guests, and in front of the married couple.

"My brother Niko,"

"My brother Niko,"

"My brother Niko."

Kenny had to make sure he wouldn't let any unwanted, and honest words slip out of his tongue. When he practised the night before the wedding. Like the pathetic, sad sack man that he was, he tried saying, "My lover, Niko." It sounded so beautiful, he kept saying it the whole night.

It sounded magical, so perfect, but so wrong.

When Kenny saw Niko looking at Sophia, who was so beautiful by the way, walking down the aisle. Kenny had lost all hope for his own happiness, and only hoped for Niko's.

Because like night and day, you can't experience both at the same time, and maybe in this lifetime. They were both too impossible to happen.

Perhaps the world destined Niko to be gifted all the happiness in the world, and Kenny was the one who held their suffering. But seeing Niko happy was enough for Kenny, even though it wasn't his own. Life is so unfair sometimes, but Kenny was used to it anyway.

He didn't mind.

Kenny's a very good liar.

"-my brother from another mother, Niko.."

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Don't forget me, I beg,

I'll remember you said,

"Sometimes it lasts in love,

but sometimes it hurts instead."

end.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Seven (Part 2)

I don’t realise that I’m tipsy until the cold breeze hits me, as as I drag my phone out of the waistband of my skirt again, the glow of the screen jerks around in front of my eyes. I open up my messenger app and tap out a message with great effort.

I got the goods.

I attach Michelle’s phone number. He types back a minute later. 

Thamk yuo 

Yuo’re wlecmoe. Nice attempt at spelling some really challenging words there, Jude. Good job.

Haha funny gril

*funny gilr

Fuck **girl

Oh my God, you’re pissed. 

Yes !

I watch the typing dots appear and disappear for a minute or two before he appears to give up trying, and my phone comes to life in my palm with a phone call. I bring it to my ear. “Hello?” In the background is the sound of thumping techno music, rustling noises and then the swish of something heavy before his voice emerges from the chaos. “Yes.” He announces. “I’m drunk. Sorry about that, my thumbs won’t text what I want them to text.” He’s got this loose, childish, silly tone to his voice that makes me smile, as it’s a rare privilege to hear him like this. 

“You out?”

“I am.”

“Where are you?”

“Uh… Katen… Kater Blau?”

“Are you asking me?”

He laughs. “No, I can’t remember how to say it. I’m somewhere. I’m outside some club.” The music is muffled now, but the sounds of a busy city have replaced it, swirling around him, weaving its distinct melody with the sound of his voice. 

“Is it a Halloween party?”

“I wish. Nobody celebrates Halloween in Germany. I’m just out. Tuesday night partying, baby. Oh! You’re at Shane’s house.”

“That’s right.” I settle onto the steps, first flicking a tiny snail off the stone. “Here I am. I’ve been drinking tequila.”

“Bleagh.” He exclaims. “Tequila makes me puke.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah. Even the smell.” He makes another gagging sound and I cover my mouth with my hand. “Stop making that noise or I’ll start puking, you sicko.”

He lets out a loose, easy laugh. “So what’s your costume?”

“I’m a cat.”

“Ah.”

“Very original, I know.”

“A cat.”

“Meow.” I say flatly.

“So… what are you wearing?”

I cough out an outraged laugh. “That’s a bit of an inappropriate question. You’re hardly flirting with me.” As soon as I’ve said it I wish I hadn’t. In my head it was funny, but as soon as it hits the air I curse myself for ever thinking it ever would be. These are the only kinds of jokes that are never funny with him.

An awkward laugh. “Well I dunno. I was wondering what you were wearing, like, costume-wise, that’s all” My face heats up. “Um, like just these stupid cat ears I made and a cheap leather skirt and a corset I stole from a girl I used to know.”

“Cool, cool, cool.”

“Cool.” I wince with the phone against my ear, hearing only a rustle of fabric and a gentle sniff as he continues to say nothing at all. 

“This is nice, Evie. It’s cool to call you again.” He says eventually, voice a bit hoarse. Goosebumps travel up and down my arms and legs, but it’s surely thanks to the wind.

“I know.” 

“Like, you haven’t been far from my mind this last year.” 

I take a slow, shaky breath, suddenly feeling like I’m on another planet, alone on Shane’s front doorstep while the party thumps on on the other side of the wall. “Right.” I say, but only a raspy whisper escapes me. 

“I’m only saying this because I’m drunk.” He clarifies. “I obviously wouldn’t dare say it otherwise.”

“Oh.”

“You know how I was in Japan last spring? On the day that we went to see mount Fuji it was so foggy, too foggy to see a thing, and we were so bummed out, but the next morning before we got the train to Kyoto I got up early, like, when the sun was rising, and from the window of my hotel room I could see it, and it was right there, clear and blue, and the sky was red behind it and all I could think of how much I wished that you could see it too. Like, that I wasn’t alone just looking at it. I knew that you’d understand how perfect it was.”

I pause. The sharp autumnal breeze licks over my skin and fallen leaves rustle across the garden. “Jude.” I say softly. “You know that-”

There’s a sudden, loud crackling noise over the line and then a new voice is speaking to me. “Hallo?”

I blink. “Um, hello?”

“Bist du das, Astrid?” 

“No – um, nicht? Ich bin Evie.” I cringe. 

“Evie! Evie Kilbride.” This new voice is the cheerful, infectiously jolly sort of voice that renders the smile that crawls up my face irresistible. “Yes, and who is this?” 

“I’m Jonas.” He announces. “I have heard a lot about you.” and I can hear Jude groan in the background. 

“Exclusively good things, I hope.” 

“Yes of course, only very good things. Are you partying tonight?”

“Yes! It’s Halloween, Jonas.”

“Ah I see! Do you have a costume?”

“I’m a cat.”

“A sexy cat?”

I laugh, listening to Jude’s distant protests. “Jonas, please, give me my phone.” he pleads.

“You’re too drunk.” Jonas insists. “You’re at risk or saying something stupid. I’ll speak to her. Is it okay if I speak with you, Evie Kilbride?”

“Absolutely, but fair warning, I might be too drunk too.”

“You sound wonderful, my dear. I hope my friend didn’t disturb you.”

“Of course not. We were just chatting nonsense. Are you having a fun night?”

“Oh yes, we are. When are you coming to Berlin? When do I get to finally meet you?”

“Hmm… Maybe soon-ish.”

“I’ve been looking forward to it. You’re famous in our house.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I’ve looked at so many photographs on-” There’s the sound of a struggle, rustles and swipes and then Jude is back again. “I’m sorry, Evie.” He breathes. “We should probably hang up now before he says anything insane.”

“Okay.” I say, and in the background Jonas yells “Send us a picture of your costume, Evie Kilbride!”

“Don’t send me a picture.” He says. “Or do, if you want to… I, uh, never mind. I can imagine without a photograph… or – Christ, sorry. Nothing I’m saying sounds right at the moment. I’m going to go.”

“Alright, see you.” I say. “Enjoy the Katzer Blau.”

“Yep.” He says, and then the line goes dead just as Jonas starts to loudly sing my name.

The next morning, as I rise with an aching head and a mouth that feels like it’s been rinsed with sand, I reach for my phone on my bedside table. He has texted me, one coherent, sober message underneath the barrage of his drunken misspellings. 

I’m sorry if I said anything weird to you last night. I remember we talked but I don’t remember what about. I was very drunk. Forgive me. Hope we’re good. 

x J

Beginning // Prev // Next

[misiwrites]

4KINGDOMS RE-READ ADVENTURE & LORE POST part 2

the adventure continues

~*~*~

Chapter 5: rei having a bad time now in HD from max's point of view, and takao finds out he's supposed to be a magical boy with a pet dragon

oh-so-funny how i have a bit of the previous chapter from a second PoV. i don't do that very often, but it works here. i think. maybe. there are several funny as fuck moments in there, like max thinking flattery would work on rei and then rei doesn't get it at all, and the best line is max going "Holy crap. Now he was coming after me." at rei chasing him, ah, the beginning of an epic romance right there.

rei is so cute, apologising to max for being rude. rei why you so cute. and then he's laughing about being silly. that was a very cute scene. i'm swooning at my own reimaxes again

the four are together just by themselves for the first time. i always meant it to be a special time, but i don't know if i've made that clear enough ever since. like they feel a special connection when it's JUST the four of them. and max going - a line that i like alert!

These are the people I share the same fate with, I thought.

mm hmm. yes.

max refers several times to having seen photos of rei. but rei's made it sound like nobody's ever supposed to know what he looks like. now i have no idea what my thought process there was. i guess max has king privileges that allow him to see photos of the byakko-ou. gay privileges for future boyfriend i mean what

max here mentions the mandate of heaven during the official coronation, which i took from 12kingdoms, and then forgot ever since i think. in 12kingdoms it was a thing between the king and their special unicorn fella, which is the position i pretty much intended the knights to take in 4kingdoms. but. well. then it's just kind of never mentioned again. /quietly takes note

Re: Chapter 5 - THE LORE! CARDINAL DIRECTIONS!

since north, east, south and west are reserved for the country names, i had to come up with a different way to refer to the geographical directions in-universe. so everything is upper, right, lower and left instead. at first it sounded extremely silly even to myself, but i got used to it. fake it till you make it, said the fantasy author making up stupid shit.

~*~*~

Chapter 6: a tour around the snow glory palace, and a wild hiwatari souichirou appears

wow this early story is very rei-heavy isn't it. in the beginning, rei here says that ralf looks embarrassed… hmm… embarrassed ralf………. can you imagine

this:

“I demand an explanation right now!” “There there, chill out,” Genbu-ou's knight tried to shush him, “maybe take it easy and have a cookie, Seiryuu-ousama…” “The name’s Takao!” he bellowed in response. “I'm not some random nameless king who doesn't deserve to – know – anything!” (But he did move back to the table and grab the cookie that the knight was offering. I had never seen anyone eat something so angrily before.)

wow

this is the last chapter (so far) with johnny in it. so relish in sir johnny mcgregor's grand existence, everyone. and his, like, 2 lines total

another funny detail. rei being confused that nobody takes their shoes off in snow glory. i know right but you take your shoes off in tiger maple like once in this story, rei.

another detail that killed me:

Seiryuu-ou was now wearing a thick cloak of fur that honestly looked comically big on him; it made him look like a fat, hairy animal, and Ralf had to hold the hem up to keep it from sweeping the floors like an enormous mop.

MADE HIM LOOK LIKE WHAT

i think i maybe should have looked at these descriptions of snow glory like. even once after writing them. mm. well. you know. i'm looking now

it's cute that judy hugs takao before he leaves. aw.

Re: Chapter 6 - THE LORE! THE KINGS ARE CALLED WHAT NOW?

i realise, one lore aspect that i overlook myself maybe the most is the king titles. what is this seiryuu-ou, suzaku-ou and all other shit, you maybe wonder. "ou" simply means king, and i took the naming idea from, again, 12kingdoms, where they are named after the countries, so the main character is the kei-ou because she's the king of kei. it's not used SUPER much there but i snatched it and ran with it and never looked back. ("ou" is my preferred romanisation, but it's also regularly spelled "oh". it's the same word in yu-gi-oh. that's yuugi-ou, game king.)

~*~*~

Chapter 7: takao's cold ride home

only the second takao chapter. because the beginning was so rei-heavy. weird

takao calls griffolyon a chicken.

takao saying he's never cared about plants much, well surprise motherfucker you have plant magic. no wonder he's so disappointed in his powers

and takao being like, "i tried really hard to remember literally anything about my own country, but all i could think about was kai" welcome to the rest of your life.

it was a short chapter. you finally get more takao and then it's just this little turd and then it's back to rei again. i guess it's because this entire fic only exists because i started writing rei's PoV, he was really the main guy at first.

Re: Chapter 7 - THE LORE! THE MANSIONS!

the mansions are a never-ending source of worldbuilding fodder. there's a lot that actively goes into them while i'm writing. here's the basic building blocks of them: the mansions are based on the astronomy side of the four symbols. actually i kind of can't explain it in any way that makes sense. have a wikipedia

and these are the mansion names. as you can see, i only kept the west the same as they are here in romanised mandarin (i think it's mandarin. IS IT). for eastern mansions, i used the japanese kun'yomi readings. for the south, japanese on'yomi readings. and for the north, katakana readings of the english translations. i placed the mansions on my map rather arbitrarily, some are easy since they actually describe parts of the symbols, but then the rest is just pffft i dunno, i be bullshitting.

~*~*~

Chapter 8: rei drinks a hot chocolate just because he can't admit to max he doesn't like it

unicolyon apparently hates night. noted, you gay horse.

this is a really nice chapter actually, rei and max just talking to each other and rei asking if max likes being a king. and max is all honest like YEAH I LIKE EVERYONE LIKING ME! and rei's response is to wonder why his own life is such shit in comparison. a line that i like alert:

“I can tell you don’t feel the same. But I believe that, as a king chosen by one of the four holy beasts, you have the power to bring change to the things you aren’t happy with. Think about it – you're the greatest being in your country, Rei.”

that's max calling rei by first name for the firs time. a special little moment. this too, i like:

But why was it that Seiryuu-ou could remain true to himself, as an individual who carried his birth name, and always speak his mind and still be adored by everyone; why was it that the person now sitting opposite me could happily live as Genbu-ou and still be so full of life, still be this dazzling?

this was actually a really good little chapter. i liked it a lot. i feel much love for my byakko-ou rei.

Re: Chapter 8 - THE LORE! THE FOUR KINGDOMS VS. THE REAL WORLD!

the kingdoms are a mishmash of things i randomly pick to feature from countries that correspond the main boys and majestics, so east is primarily japan+germany, south is russia+britain, west is china+france and north is america+italy but north also gets a northern europe influence because of the snow. the south also gets some arabic influence for the environment and so on. the west has a bit of korea in it (both north and south) and for the east, i've used some vietnamese influence actually. some chapter mentioned the south having siestas so that's also kind of a spanish touch. really, when i see a cool thing i'll just take it.

[smythe-in-manhattan]

Six Years Ago || Sebastian Self-Para

Sebastian whistled to himself as the elevator made its way up through the building smoothly, heading towards the top. They lived not quite in the penthouse, but the third floor from the top, with one whole half of the floor for their spacious three bedroom apartment. Views of the East River included, of course. They had move into the apartment when Sebastian was about 14, but he’d grown up on the Upper East Side all his life, gone through school with the same Upper East Side people as well. And now, going into Senior Year, he knew it was time for one last bang.

He’d spent the weekend partying, hanging out with friends, mostly on one of their large yachts where there had been free flowing booze, regardless of the fact most of them were underage. The things you could get away with, when you were in such a privileged position as them. And Sebastian wasn’t complaining - their parents had worked hard for their money, so why shouldn’t he and his friends get to enjoy it the way money was intended to be enjoyed? This stupid Gossip Girl blog and cronies be damned. They weren’t going to let some silly social media posts ruin their fun.

The elevator reached the floor with a soft ding sound and opened up to reveal a short hallway, their door to one side and their neighbours to the other. Mr and Mrs Hayes. A retired judge and dentist, kept mostly to themselves. He unlocked the door and dropped his bag on the floor, kicking his shoes off as he shut the door behind him. No shoes in the apartment was a rule his Mum had made when they’d moved in. His Dad had never cared but something about taking them off even though she was no longer here was like a way of honouring her, he supposed. It had been three years, shortly after they moved in and he still missed her.

“Hey Dad, I won’t be here long” he said, seeing his Dad sitting on one of the stools at the breakfast counter, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the bench. His Dad looked up at him and Sebastian could only describe his expression as thunderous. It even made Sebastian hesitate, “uhh... everything okay?”

“Care you explain this, Sebastian?”

His father held out his phone and Sebastian look confused before he saw a video message from... fuck. Fucking Gossip Girl and her stupid fucking interfering. He was sure his Dad didn’t know anything about the stupid Instagram account but they’d sent him a direct message. Clearly about him. His Dad pressed play and he watched the video. Watched as the camera danced around the yacht until it found its starring subject. Or subjects, really, as he watched Max beckon him over with a smirk and Sebastian come over, straddling him. 

Max and him had an... interesting relationship. They’d never been close friends really, just always been in the same friend group so they’d been acquaintances for as long as he could remember. But then a few years ago, when Sebastian started to realise he was gay, and Max was more than willing to experiment with anybody and everybody, they’d realised that the other was rather attractive. They’d never been exclusive, but Max was always somebody Sebastian could go to, if he needed to forget about his problems, or he just wanted to have a good time. They worked well together, both sexually and now as friends.

He knew what was going to happen next, but his Dad didn’t make to move the phone, so he watched as Max put the pill on his tongue with a grin, like he was daring Sebastian to take it from him and he knew, of course, he had. The video continued, showing Max flicking a bag with a powdery substance, before creating lines on the table for them both. The video ended with Sebastian getting up, grabbing Max’s hand and leading him off to a room where the camera (thankfully) didn’t follow.

“Dad, I’m sorry, it was just a stupid party.”

“And how many stupid parties, have there been, Sebastian? Because I scrolled this Gossip Girl account and I see you and your friends pop up quite a bit, don’t you?”

“It’s just some stupid Instagram account wanting to stir shit up. We ignore it.”

“Oh, so it’s all fabricated then?”

“Well - I mean, no, but -”

“How many times have there been drugs? And don’t lie to me, I work with enough clients to know when somebody is lying and I don’t know them as well as I know my own son.”

“I ... I don’t know. A few? It’s just for fun. We like to blow off a little steam. It’s not like I’m some junkie shooting up in the back alley.”

“So if I looked through your bag right now, there wouldn’t be anything?” 

The colour in Sebastian’s face drained a little, knowing full well that his Dad would, in fact, find something. Sometimes he just needed a little something to get through the day, the teachers could be so fucking annoying sometimes.

“I’ll ask you again. How often?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes, okay? What’s the big deal? It’s not like we can’t afford it and my grades haven’t slipped, have they? So why do you care?”

“I care, because you’re my son, Sebastian. I know we may not have the same relationship as you did with your mother and maybe that’s my fault. But I’m not going to let my son become influenced like people like... this Max Wolfe for fuck’s sake. Are you dating? I know what they say about him. Is that where you get the drugs?”

Sebastian laughed, “we’re not dating. We’re friends. Who like to help each other sometimes. I really don’t think you want the details.” Sometimes Sebastian wondered though, if all this time dancing around each other for fun would lead somewhere one day, when they were both ready to stop sleeping around. Not that he saw that day happening any time soon but he and Max did get on awfully well and he found that more and more each day.

“Give me your phone,” his Dad held out his hand and Sebastian shook his head.

“No way!”

“Sebastian. Give me your phone. Turn it off for all I care, I have no intention of going through it. Maybe I’ve let you run wild with these... people for too long. Perhaps I’ve been too focused on my career and not on you, but that stops. Give me your phone, and go pack. You’re getting out of town.”

“W-what? Come on, you can’t be serious. It’s senior year.”

“I am sure you’ll be shocked to find that there are other high schools. Phone.”

Sebastian pulled his phone out of his pocket, starting to type a message to Max, who he knew would be waiting for him. After the yacht party, they’d agreed to meet up, Sebastian had just wanted to drop his stuff home first. 

His Dad took it from his hands mid text and Sebastian looked up, annoyed.

“I’m meant to be meeting a friend. Can you not just give me the courtesy of letting them know my Dad has lost his damn mind and I won’t be coming?”

“Is this friend Max?”

“... no.”

“Sebastian.”

“Fine, yes. But what does that matter? He still deserves to know I’m not coming.”

“Quite frankly, I really don’t care. Go pack your stuff, and I’ve already got your computer and all your electronics here, so don’t think you can message him on this Instagram thing.”

The reality of the situation started to sink in, that his Dad wasn’t joking and that he really had no choice.

“You really have lost your mind.”

He turned, walking away to his bedroom and slammed the door. His suitcase was already open on his bed, ready for him to pack into. He had no idea where he was going, no idea what his Dad was planning but he knew if he didn’t pack then it would probably only make things worse. So he packed - but he wasn’t quiet about it. He made sure his Dad knew he wasn’t impressed.

Meanwhile, his Dad sat on the counter, sipping the cup of coffee he’d just made, listening to his son stomp around the room and reading over the pamphlet for the rehab centre.

One designed specifically for rich, entitled teenagers and party drugs.

His son would thank him one day.

[pen-observing]

Hcs of liyue or inazuma boys tripping over a rock in front of their crush please

sddakj i imagined all of them tripping like in those short tiktok videos strung together

headcanons of inazuma boys tripping over a rock in front of their crush: (includes: thoma, gorou, kazuha, scaramouche, ayato and itto.)

THOMA: (i know he is from mond but i am still putting him here)

The thing with Thoma is that he is equal parts serious about what he does but lets out his silly side freely when he is able to without fear of failing or disappointing others.

When he likes you - he trusts you and Thoma is glad for that. It means his natural disposition for joking and comedy get to flourish.

However, because he is proud to be known as a 'fixer' and 'the reason the Kamisato clan has no need for any other retainer'; he wants to show it to you too.

so the worst dilemma of his life with you up to this moment comes unexpectedly.

because thoma is observant; and because he loves looking at your hair move while the two of you take a walk; he disregards the rock and trips over it.

what is he supposed to do now? which side of his does this even present to you?!

he fell slowly letting out a little 'oomph' sound.

but how does he react to this?!

really, he does what usually happens with you.

watches what you do and acts from then on.

he is not hurt - so you laugh; and thoma laughs with you because even this is a meaningful way to spend time with you.

GOROU:

Gorou is someone who understands the position that has been assigned to him and according to the expectations of it is how he tries to act but in reality; he is easily excitable and his emotions always show in one way or another.

he also likes enjoying the new privileges and more free time which he can spend with you now that the vision hunt decree has ended.

now when he asks you to take a walk with him he knows that it will be longer and present itself as more intimate than before

he can even try to hold your hand! he can try to walk closer next to you no matter how much his ears and tail give away his excitement!

he had faced many enemies but he had never been humiliated like this!

just when he grabbed your hand, just when he was about to nonchalantly lock your fingers together; his heart was beating too fast and he tripped on a rock.

he does not allow himself to fall on the ground tho! he is able to do a spin and land on his feet but he just knows that the moment was ruined!

when you laugh softly and go to take his hand on your own - he forgets about his humiliation.

instead; Gorou smiles and his ears twitch and starts to tell you how this reminds him of his siblings and their childhood fascination on getting each other to trip on anything close by.

KAZUHA:

When Kazuha was forced to experience this feeling; he almost forgot the wind was his friend.

Maybe, him simply tripping was not important enough to be mentioned but he surely thinks it was.

When the two of you met, he had still been on Beidou's ship as an outlaw. The crux fleet does many things well but they still like to get respite when possible and that is how Kazuha found himself on your land.

When he first saw you it was almost dusk but you continued to spend time with them well into the evening.

Beidou does like to really experience what it is that taverns and new lands have to offer.

You were tired from work and wished them well on their next journey before leaving the tavern.

Kazuha has realised a long time ago that being passive does not work out for him: so he decided to leave after you (maybe walk you home) in hopes of spending more time together. He would leave soon and who knows when he would come back again.

You walk slow, he notes. And in deciding on how to approach you now; he trips on the rock that some drunkard probably kicked here.

kazuha swears that it was not there when he first came and he swears that it being late at night is his saving grace because: even when you turn around at the noise - he thinks you can't see the full extent of his embarrassing position.

To try and save face he continues to lay down on the grass and stretches out his hands while looking at the sky.

when you come and lean in to see if he is fine and your face is decorated with the starry night sky; he almost thinks it is worth it.

Even with this - he still walks you home and likes that you're witty enough to ask if the wind truly is his friend.

SCARAMOUCHE:

Now, the first thing you need to know is that he will not admit to having any sort of crush on you.

he will not admit it to himself; let alone you - the new fatui member.

he will never let you know that he volunteered to give you the tour and rundown of this delusion fabric either!

why should you know?

scaramouche loves to feel like he knows more than he is letting you in on; so he thrives off of this.

he gets to talk to you plus he gets to see that you consider him important

and with this air of confidence he is a split second away from losing it all when he trips and falls on his knees

he is not sure which fool left this rock INSIDE the hidden factory but he knows that they will pay for this negligence!

it all lasts a second but he immediately stands up and makes the rock break with his electro as he turns to you.

you're not laughing at least; but he can see that this is entertaining to you.

you might be his crush but as he is not willing to admit it or go easy on you so he says:

'find me the useless person who left this rock here and bring them to me. and if you ever tell anyone about this and laugh about me just know another fatui member will be bringing you to me!"

he really just doesn't want you to laugh AT him

AYATO:

Inazuma has never been blessed with a more graceful man.

Everyone knows Ayato; the stories about him are vivid enough. Nobody can miss the delicate silver hair. even if they haven't seen him; everyone knows who is coming through just from the way his steps make him seem like he is walking on water.

Ayato knows that this certainly means pressure but he is also aware of how a crush should always be impressed.

And what better than this? Shouldn't his grace help him in wooing you.

He also likes the fact that you are Ayaka's friend which means that when the two of you come face to face it is usually at the Kamisato estate and not many people can distract you from him.

Ayato sees you in their courtyard as he comes back from a business lunch. Is this not the perfect time to walk towards you, ask you how you have been and give a small compliment that will leave you hopefully thinking of it when you go to bed?

He is a natural and does not need to stress.

He does in fact, walk up to you with a sweet smile and his back straight, he does, also, ask how you have been and gives you a compliment.

where it goes wrong is when he walks past you towards his door and then trips.

ayato is so glad that you were speaking with ayaka at that moment and he was able to pull himself up quickly enough for you not to have seen him on the ground.

he is also glad his back is already turned towards you so his blush is not visible.

ITTO:

when he trips it is because he was trying to establish dominance over this small puny thing anyways. in fact, he is glad you were there to witness this moment and he totally does not want to turn back time.

[akaashism]

22 y/o kageyama moving to italy and knowing what it's like to be truly homesick for the first time in his life.

moving from miyagi to tokyo wasn't the same because not only was his hometown just a train ride away but tokyo also had so many familiar faces around that he never really felt out of place. but now, shifting to a whole new continent, a new country where you don't speak the language, where you don't know anyone, a brand new culture –it's the first time he realises how terrifying it can be.

he wants to confide in hinata and seek comfort from him but he also thinks he'd sound silly because hinata has already gone through this at a much younger age and with hardly any of the privileges/facilities kageyama has as a pro player. he's afraid he'll sound childish and spoiled.

so he keeps quiet, acting like everything is fine and bottling up his feelings inside. during their calls, he acts distant so he doesn't give himself away and hinata notices, of course he does. he tries to pry it out of kageyama but he insists that nothing's wrong.

hinata slowly notices the subtle cues from kageyama –the way he drags out their calls, how he's always reluctant to say goodbye, when he asks hinata to send him pictures of his meals, of japanese buildings and streets, how he only gives vague details about how he's settling in rome –and realises how much it reminds him of himself back when he first went to rio. he finally understands what's going on.

so during one of their calls, he casually asks, "so. are you feeling homesick yet?"

unsurprisingly, kageyama's snap answer is to deny. "of course not."

hinata sighs and says softly, "it's okay if you are. there's nothing wrong with missing home. it's natural. nobody's going to think any less of you, least of all me."

there's a sharp inhale on the other end and then quietly, hesitantly, kageyama speaks up. "you don't think it's stupid?"

hinata's heart squeezes. "i know we like to make everything a competition but this isn't one. i missed home everyday, you know –my mom and natsu, all our friends, the food, the language. and... you. i really missed you."

kageyama heaves a shuddering breath. "oh..."

"tobio," hinata reassures gently. "it's okay."

there are a few moments of heavy silence and hinata waits patiently. he knows kageyama needs the time.

finally, in a small voice, he admits it. "you're right...i do. i do miss home. it's hard sometimes, being here. everything is so new." his voice shakes a little when he adds, "when does it get better?"

hinata smiles. "soon," he says. "and till then, you can crib and complain all you want. be angry or scared or frustrated, it's all cool. i'm here."

he can hear the relief in kageyama's voice when he mutters a stilted thanks and shuffles around awkwardly.

they talk for a few more minutes and when hinata's about to hang up, he's stopped by kageyama's voice once again, softer this time. more intimate.

"hey, hinata?" he whispers.

hinata's breath catches. "yeah?"

"i miss you too."

and maybe, hinata thinks as he grins giddily, homesickness isn't so bad after all.

[fibrowarriorgirl]

I love it, so I can't do it

As a teenager, I really liked getting Starbucks coffee. The closest Starbucks was a 45 min travel with public transport away. And you know what, I did it often. Sometimes even a few times a week. I'd often get the question why I would put in all that effort, just to get some Starbucks. I didn't understand why people acted as if I travelled to the other side to the country. All I did was some public transportation travels. Nothing spectacular, right?

Nowadays, the closest Starbucks is a mere 10 minute walk away from me. I can even use the bus, that only takes 3 minutes. But I rarely go, even though some days all I can think about is a delicious white mocha. Why? Because it's too much. A 10 minute walk? Do you have any idea how many spoons that costs me? And I avoid public transportation at any and all costs (more about that in my previous blog post). And it sucks, because Starbucks is a small thing that cheers me up so much. It might sound silly, that a cup of overpriced coffee means so much to me, but it does.

Starbucks isn't the only thing I can't do nearly as much as I would like to. I want to go out for dinner with my partner this weekend. But I can't just come up with that on the spot. I have to make sure the restaurant is accessible to me, which is something I didn't have to do before. I realise that in itself was a huge privilege. But I can't even guarantee I can go. I can't predict with 100% certainty that I will have enough spoons. We haven't got a car, so we'd have to use public transport. We'd have to walk to a restaurant, wait a long time before we can eat and then walk back and get on a bus again. I estimate that whole ordeal to cost between 6-8 spoons. And what if I only wake up with 8 spoons? It's so frustrating to not be able to do the things I love the most.

I have been trying some low-spoon activities. I'm learning myself to knit, which is about 1-2 spoons. Video games can sometimes be a way for me to recharge, and sometimes can cost up to 3 spoons. Watching my favourite show Friends is a great way for me to recharge.

So, what are some of your favourite low spoon activities? What are some activities you can't do (much) any more due to your chronic illness?

[earnestly-endlessly]

Hi! Do you have any Cherik Army AUs? I've managed to find just 3.

Hi Anon, thanks for the ask. I found some good Army AUs, though some might not quite fall into the category of 'Army AU'. There are, surprisingly, few Army AUs that I have found, whereas there are several military and war AUs, but those don't necessarily involve an army. I did include a variety that involve an army in one way or another, though some fit the bill better than others. I hope you find some that you enjoy!!

Cherik Army AU

I Want to Guard Your Dreams And Visions – luninosity

Summary: I was reading Barbara Hambly’s Abigail Adams mystery novels, and then Erik/Charles American Revolutionary War AU happened. Little snippet in which they share a tent, drink coffee, and provide support to each other.

The Eggnog Riot – Sophia_Bee

Summary: 1826. The American Military Academy in West Point. The day after Christmas. Cadet Erik Lehnsherr wakes up naked with a certain cadet Xavier sprawled across his chest. He can only blame the eggnog.

No Man’s Land – ikeracity

Summary: It's 1914 in Ypres, Belgium. British soldier Charles Xavier has been in the trenches for four months of endless artillery fire, bone-deep cold, and constant fear of the enemy. But on Christmas Eve, the gunfire falls silent, and they climb out of their trenches for a Christmas truce. Charles, of course, meets Erik, the German soldier across the way.

My Land’s Only Borders Lie Around My Heart – pseudoneems

Summary: WW1 Christmas truce of 1914. Opposing soldiers Erik and Charles meet.

Le soldat – Iggyassou

Summary: Erik is in the trenches, trying to survive the war so that he can go back to Charles, his young lover waiting for him back at home.

Names – Squeegee

Summary: In the summer of 1917, British soldier Charles Xavier finds himself taking cover in a shell crater.

Not sure if the 'graphic' tag applies or not, but I'd rather be safe than sorry.

Quell a storm with pen and ink – patroclux

Summary: Charles had spared his life. That was not something he could easily repay.

They wrote letters to each other for two years, until Charles was pulled out of the war from a sudden illness and Erik remained to fight for a cause he didn't believe in. One that ultimately had no effect; one that stole away four years of his life.

Traumatized and persecuted, Erik applied for a post at Janus, a lighthouse in the middle of the Irish Sea. He thought being alone would do him good.

Despite the letters and despite the love, Erik didn't expect Charles to find him.

Hier steh ich an den Marken meiner Tage – MonstrousRegiment

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a spy in the SS, and his British liaison is strategist Charles Xavier. Their relationship from the moment they meet to a year after the end of the war.

Theme and Variations: War – ninemoons42

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a musical prodigy and a man destined for great things and great stages. But his life is shattered by a terrible accident that leaves him blind and trying to find his way back to his life, his music, and his place in the world.

Then he meets Charles Xavier, an agent of Section 8 of the Military Intelligence Directorate of Providence, and he finds himself listening in to clandestine radio transmissions and clicking Morse code, and these sounds are part and parcel of a war that can only take place in the shadows and the hidden places of history.

Strib nicht von Mir – ravenoftheninerealms

Summary: A squad of Allied Forces, led by Charles Xavier, liberates the Nazi concentration camp where Erik was being held prisoner.

Cold foxholes, warm hearts – oddegg

Summary: Basically, this is Band of Mutants. A little slice of life in Bastogne.

Photographs and Memories – tirsynni

Summary: When war-battered Erik Lehnsherr met Charles Xavier, the man kneeling in the dirt and whispering to a lost refugee child, Erik feared his days of running from his deviance was done.

Marching Home – Quietbang

Summary: For a prompt on the meme asking for fic dealing with the fact that, in comics canon, Charles served in the Korean war.

War meant something different to this generation, Charles knew.

Crash on the Levy (Down in the Flood) – Quietbang

Summary: “This is much bigger than you think. You're in the middle of a war, and you don't even realize, do you?”

He pauses, and answers his own question.“No, of course you don't. How silly of me."

The Knight and the Dagger – Dow

Summary: A Lieutenant in the Soviet Army, Erik Lensherr had no other goals than to find the man that killed his parents. But when a discovery yields a little boy with wings like an angel, Erik is shocked to realize that he isn’t alone. There are other people like him, both dangerous and alluring.

Lifelong Service – Pookaseraph

Summary: Erik thinks he should be the one to teach their recruits hand-to-hand combat; Charles makes a persuasive argument to the contrary.

Footsteps of uprooted lovers – ninemoons42

Summary: Against a turbulent backdrop of artistic, social, and political upheaval, the playwright Charles Xavier and the photographer Erik Lehnsherr find themselves meeting under less-than-polite circumstances, but part rather more amicably than they'd met.

When they find each other again in a Barcelona that is falling inexorably toward war, they find themselves taking up arms, each in his own way, and together they join a struggle for freedom, for love, and for their very lives.

Dear Soldier – Lindstrom, ToriTC198

Summary: "Dear Soldier,

I pray that this package finds you well. The organization gave us a list of odds and ends that you might need, but I thought that a person so far from home might appreciate something more than soap and tube socks."

When Charles' school decides to send care packages to the soldiers fighting in Vietnam, he chooses to also include a letter and a few personal touches. When Staff Sergeant Erik is the recipient of that particular care package it will spur a relationship that will change them both.

Fortunate Son – blueink13

Summary: he days leading up to and during Alex's deployment in Vietnam. Everyone handles it in their own way. Some handle better than others.

You’re Here – Deshonana

Summary: Everyone decides its a good idea not to tell Erik when his boyfriend comes home from the military.

Welcome Home –  loveydoveyecstasy

Summary: It's been two years since Charles was deployed to Afghanistan, and Erik can't wait to pick him up at the airport.

When Secrets have Secrets – ximeria

Summary: The arguments that take place in General Xavier's office when General Lehnsherr has a bad day are legendary. Quite frankly, no one really knows what's going on and if the two men have it their way, no one ever will.

Quiet Company – Sophia_Bee

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is always on the move. He's spent the last many years going from war torn country to war torn country telling the stories of the people there through photographs. Then one of his pictures is selected as a winner for the Pulitzer Prize and Erik finds himself stuck in London for longer than he wants. He ends up with an assignment to photograph Charles Xavier, a wealthy philanthropist who is intrigued to find himself working with a Pulitzer-winning war photographer. Erik is far less intrigued by someone he considers privileged and out of touch. Both of their lives are about to change in ways they couldn't imagine.

The City is Ours – RedStockings

Summary: Erik felt his heart racing with excitement, lightened, and for once felt joyful. Charles had looked at him, really looked at him, and there had been something there, a knowing of a kind. As the soldiers laughed amongst each other, and joked each other about who would succeed in marrying the boy, Erik made himself a silent vow. Charles was going to be his, and nothing would keep him from having him. He’d marry him, and he’d save him, and Charles would love him for it.

Not even the war could keep them apart... right?

Sign of the Times – dsrobertson

Summary: Casablanca-ish AU.

Charles Xavier meets Erik Lehnsherr in Paris, 1937. They spend the next two years with one another, stupid in-love, until war comes heavy in September 1939. Erik leaves for Poland and the Resistance movement there, promising to return. Charles is left in Paris, where Nazi jackboots march in, Summer of 1940. He becomes a member of the underground French Resistance, publishing illegal newsletters, leaflets, until news comes through in February 1942: Erik is dead. Charles throws himself into more dangerous work, meeting with Communists, helping derail a German train, and he does too much, goes too far. His friends find him safe passage out of France, out across the Mediterranean, to Morocco, Casablanca. It is here he finds Erik, alive.

The Waste Land – nekosmuse

Summary: The White Queen and her Shadow King sit on their throne, safe behind the psionic shields of the Walled City. The armies of Genosha batter uselessly at the gates, a war locked in stalemate. Magneto, camped in the frozen mud, receives word the Citadel intends to send a telepath to the front lines. The same telepath he met two years ago, who sat across a carved wooden chess set and offered Magneto the first friendly smile in a lifetime. The same telepath who still haunts his dreams.

Winter Comes With a Knife – RedStockings

Summary: It apparently came to no one’s surprise that the war-mage Erik Lehnsherr took up residence in the Dark Keep. I knew he was going to choose my sister, Raven, to be his apprentice so why wouldn’t he let me go? What did he want from me?

My name is Charles Xavier, I can read minds and use magic. I’ve met Kings and Queens, mages and magic users. I’ve travelled through lay-lines and jumped through the Dark Void… but none of that really matters.

I am leading an army into war, I am scared and I never wanted this. I’ve come to realise that what I want, rode into my life when I was still a child. Now he’s out there, ready to charge into battle. Ready to die for me.

Polaris – LastAmericanMermaid

Summary: Charles Xavier is 19 years old, doe-eyed and soft; Erik Lehnsherr is 24 years old, steely-hard and bitter. One is a soldier, the other a refugee. Both are mutants. There will be pain, oh yes.

(An AU in which Charles is a wounded British soldier, Erik is the German hiding in France who nurses him back to health, and the contents of this fic are best read to the soundtrack of Atonement.)

Note: Unfinished

MEDIC! – paladin_danse

Summary: A British airborne medic finds himself alone and afraid behind enemy lines. When he decides to save the life of an S.S. German officer he finds wounded in the snow, he has no idea the choice he has made will alter the course of the war—and their lives—forever.

Note: Sadly unfinished

Suicide is Painlesss – weethreequarter 

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr did not become a doctor to pick bullets out of children. Unfortunately the US Army had other ideas.

Stuck in the middle of the Korean War, Erik and his fellow civilian surgeons have to battle not only the war, but also weather, mud, and boredom. And that's without mentioning Major Sebastian Shaw who thinks war is the best thing that's ever happened to him and never should've been allowed to pick up a scalpel, or Colonel William Stryker who may or may not work for the CIA and probably doesn't even know himself.

Throw in new arrival Captain Charles Xavier, and Erik is in for a very interesting war.

Note: Unfinished

A Light That Never Goes Out – R_Cookie

Summary: It was meant to be the war to end all wars; these two men were never supposed to meet. One a German Jew, the other a British surgeon. The odds that their paths should cross were next to none - but War defies the expected. It always has, and always will.

From the beaches of Dunkirk to the treacherous slopes of Monte Cassino - this is their story.

WWII AU.

Note: Unfinished

[hercleverboy]

jealous

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ spencer comes to terms with the fact that the reader will never love him the way he loves her.

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ heartbreak, unrequited love.

word count ↠ 2.6k

“But I always thought you’d come back, tell me that all you found was heartbreak and misery.” — Jealous by Labrinth

‘I'm jealous of the rain

That falls upon your skin

It's closer than my hands have been

I'm jealous of the rain’

Spencer loved the rain. 

Well, not exactly. He loved to watch how it fell from the grey, angry clouds above as he sat warm and cosy in his apartment. He loved the rain if he was safe inside. He wouldn’tlike to get caught in a downpour, however. 

He watched contently as the droplets fell against the window, staining the glass and jarring his view of the street below. It made him feel peaceful, and he would argue that there was no better sound to read to than that of the rain. 

His focus dropped from the copy of ‘War and Peace’ in his hands, his mind focused on something else entirely. 

Not so much something but someone. 

Y/N had been Spencer’s closest friend for years at that point, having met him a few months after he’d started working at the BAU. 

They spent pretty much any moment they could together. Spencer took her to museum exhibits and art galleries and she would listen intently as he rambled. He’d always stop mid-sentence and blush, apologising for getting ahead of himself but she’d simply smile and shake her head. 

“You don’t ever have to apologise for sharing your wonderful knowledge with me, Spence. You know I could listen to you all day,” She’d say, “Keep going, please?”

He never could say no to her. 

If there was anyone in the world he felt most comfortable with, it was her. She never ridiculed him or babied him like the team had a habit of doing. If there was a case that ended poorly she never pushed for him to confide in her, giving him the time and space to disclose his feelings when he was ready (something he was incredibly grateful for.)

For a long while, things were strictly platonic for Spencer. One day she was his best friend, the person he felt the most himself around, and the next day it was something more. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment in which his feelings for her changed, or what had caused them too. Since when had her welcoming hugs begun feel so warm? At what point had her giggle caused the butterflies in his stomach that he’d only ever read of in great poetry or love stories?

He tried to push the feelings away, he really did, but ultimately his attempts to avoid his newfound affection for her were fruitless. Nothing could be done, he finally had to face the facts. He was in love with her. In love with every adorable quirk, every smile, and every part of her; even the parts she deemed unworthy and ugly, he loved them all the same. 

He wanted her to be his so badly. 

There was only one slight problem. 

Y/N wasn’t his to have. She had a boyfriend, a long term one at that. She was in a committed relationship with a man that wasn’t Spencer and he’d still allowed himself to fall in love with her. 

Nice one, Spencer. 

*

Spencer looked up at the clouds above him, frowning at the sight of the different shades of grey they were. He looked over at Y/N who walked alongside him. He’d gotten them tickets to a Russian Film festival, and he’d insisted she went with him so he could do a simultaneous whisper translation while they watched. 

“It looks like it’s going to rain.” He broke the comfortable silence between them, his voice wavering slightly. 

She looked up, a grin coming to her lips at the sight. “I hope it does, you know I like the rain.” 

He chuckled lightly at that. “I do too! But who wants to be caught in it and end up soaking wet?” 

She gasped in mock hurt. “I’m sorry Mr. 187, maybe I want to get caught in the rain, like a scene in some cheesy rom-com.”

He shook his head at her, his gaze dropping back down to look at the pavement beneath them.

Then the downpour started, just as Spencer had predicted. The rain was heavy and cold, essentially soaking them in seconds. 

Spencer ducked under nearby shelter, pulling his coat tighter around him. He looked back over at Y/N, surprised to find her stood out in the rain, her arms outstretched and a grin on her lips. 

“Y/N! What are you doing? You’re gonna get cold!” He shouted out, trying to make himself heard over the loud pelts of rain. 

“I’ll be fine!” She called back. 

“You know there’s a widespread myth that you lose the most body heat through your head. Studies have actually concluded that you only lose about ten percent of heat through your head.” Spencer shouted, and she turned to him with a smile, one that dismissed his facts. “You’re not even wearing a jacket, Y/N!”

“You know as well as I do, Doctor, that there’s no direct correlation between the rain and getting sick, so don’t even try that with me.” 

“You’re right, but there’s a very real chance of hypothermia. Actually, last year it was reported that approximately 700 people in the US died of hypothermia-”

“Spence!” She grinned, politely interrupting his statistics. “Come join me! Live a little!” 

He shook his head adamantly. “I’m okay, thank you. But you carry on.” 

He watched on in awe at the sight before him. He pushed all the statistics on the probability of her getting sick to the back of his head, focused on how she looked it that moment. Her body was lit only by pale moonlight and dim streetlamps, but Spencer thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

He should’ve told her, then. Should’ve told her how much he loved her, how he could give her everything she craved, more than her boyfriend ever could. He wondered how he would put into words that he’d find a way to give her the world if she asked for it. 

But he said nothing. 

He could envision himself saying it.

He allowed himself to dream of speaking the words, how her face would light up and he’d finally get to hold her the way he yearned to. He thought of how proud Garcia would be of him since she’d practically been begging him to make a move ever since she learned of the situation. (” It’s not that simple, Garcia. She has a boyfriend!” “That’s a minor detail, Reid!”)

He could picture himself saying the words. He could see how she’d look over at him with those adorably furrowed brows and stunning eyes. The rain would pour over them like in the scene from Pride and Prejudice, as he finally dared to say the words he’d held onto for so very long. 

‘I love you, most ardently.’

His very own Elizabeth Bennet.

But he said nothing.

Instead, when she came back over to him, her figure shivering as the cold finally set in, he simply offered her a cheeky grin. A simple look that said, ‘I told you so’. He quickly shrugged off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders, waving off her protests that he was going to get cold now.

As if that mattered, as long as she was warm.

*

Any attempt to sleep seemed useless. No matter how many poems he read to himself in his mind, sleep simply wasn’t coming. With a frustrated huff he moved to lie on his back, staring up at the ceiling defeatedly. Although he wished it wouldn’t, his mind travelled to Y/N. His heart lurched and just the thought of her, accompanied by the newest of the plethora of emotions he was feeling- jealousy. He wondered if her boyfriend knew just how lucky he was to be lying next to her, to have the privilege of holding her close, of telling her he loved her. 

Spencer wasn’t a possessive man, he knew very well that Y/N didn’t belong to him, nor did she belong to anyone. She wasn’t an object to be had, and Spencer would never treat her as such. However, he found himself wishing to a being he wasn’t sure he believed in that she would be his. Perhaps it was selfish and wrong, to hope that she’d turn up heartbroken on his doorstep so that he could pick up the pieces of her broken by another man. It was definitely selfish to wish her so much heartache so that he could ultimately get what he wanted.  

He recognised that she didn’t owe him anything. She didn’t owe him her love in return for his. But that almost made it worse; that this situation was nobody’s fault. It wasn’t Y/N’s fault for not returning his affections, nor was it her boyfriends’. It wasn’t Spencer’s fault either, he knew that deep down. He knew that no matter how many times he wished he’d told her sooner, before another man had swept her away, it wouldn’t have changed her feelings for him. 

It almost brought him to tears. It’d be easier, he thought, easier if she did something that made me hate her. But he didn’t hate her, he didn’t think he ever could. He loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone or anything and there no words to describe the burning pain in his chest as the realisation that he was all alone dawned on him. 

Y/N didn’t love him. At least, not in the way he wanted her too. 

He could almost kid himself into thinking that she was going to knock on his door, tell him she’d left her boyfriend and confess her love for him. It was silly, and really doing him more damage than good to indulge in this self-serving fantasy he’d created, but it was the only thing that gave him enough peace to finally fall into slumber. 

*

He nearly said it one day.

It was a Friday evening, and they were sat together at his apartment, having just finished watching a bunch of films. Y/N was mid-tangent about an interesting fan theory she’d read up on, while Spencer sat next to her trying to clear his thoughts. 

His mind was screaming at him, this is it, it said, this is your chance. He knew it was selfish, quite possibly the most selfish thing he’d ever do. Especially when she was with someone else, the man she was building a life with- and Spencer was going to tear it all down with three simple words. 

The most selfish thing he’d ever do. 

And some part of him, some silly, hopelessly romantic part of him told him she wasn’t going to reject him. No, instead, she would admit she loved him too- and everything would be okay. Right? 

“Y/N I-“ He interrupted her, and she looked over surprised as she stopped talking. She took in his tone of voice; how pained it sounded. She watched at how he cringed for interrupting her, his trembling hands coming to clutch fistfuls of his beige coloured cardigan in a nervous attempt to calm himself.

He evidently had something he needed to get off his chest.

“Yeah, Spence?” She prodded when he didn’t speak.

“I- I have to tell you something, something I should’ve told you a long time ago.” He rushed out, his voice shaking. He knew he’d have to force himself to say the words. He told himself to stop thinking so hard and just say them, because he knew all too well that he wouldn’t get the opportunity again. 

“Okay. It’s okay, take your time. It’s just me.”

“I-I” He stuttered, trying to force the three simple words to leave his lips but he couldn’t seem to do it. He desperately wanted to, and it ached because he could feel them on the tip of his tongue.

Then his eyes met hers, and he stopped. His brain seemed to grant him a moment of clarity among the chaos and overwhelming thoughts. He tried to profile her, to use what he knew about human behaviour and how he’d read once that the eyes were the windows to the soul. He recalled how happy she always was when she spoke of her boyfriend, and Spencer couldn’t deny that from what he’d heard, he treated her well. Like she deserved. It shattered his heart all over again, but how could he sit there and tear away the happiness of the woman he loved? He knew what him confessing would do to her. She’d go into overdrive trying to compensate for not feeling the same, overexert herself trying to be the greatest friend she could be — and all the while she’d smile, as though the knowledge that she’d (unintentionally) hurt her best friend wasn’t killing her inside. 

He couldn’t do that to her. 

Not as he stared at her now, her worried eyes on him as she tried to figure out how to help him. 

He couldn’t hurt her like that. 

Spencer would hurt himself a hundred times over if it meant she was unharmed. He supposed that was what the meaning of love really was. Sacrificing yourself for the one you love. 

He gave a sad smile and shook his head. “Um, you know what? It’s nothing.”

Her eyebrows knitted together as she scoffed. “Seriously? You’re gonna leave me hanging like that?” Her tone was amused although she feigned disappointment. 

“Guess so.” He forced a chuckle, and Y/N opened her mouth to speak before the sound of her phone ringing cut through the air. She looked over at it, a small smile reaching her features at the sight of the name that flashed across the screen. 

“Is that your boyfriend calling?” Spencer asked quietly. 

She nodded. “I’ll tell him to call back later.” She moved her hand to click decline but Spencer’s voice stopped her. 

“No. It’s okay. You should answer it now, it might be important.”

She seemed hesitant but nodded nonetheless, moving a few paces away from him before answering and talking softly into the phone. A few minutes later she hung up. 

“Everything okay?” Spencer questioned. 

She hummed. “Of course. He just wanted to know if I wanted to grab dinner with him, but I told him I’ve got plans with you-”

“No- no- you should go. With him.” Spencer breathed out.

“Are you sure? I thought we were gonna order in from that Chinese place you love?”

He gave her a small shrug. “We can take a rain check. You should go, I-I wouldn’t want you to be late for dinner.”

She frowned over at him, pocketing her phone as she moved closer to him. She clasped his shoulders in her hands and pulled her to him in a hug. He tensed at the initial contact, but eventually he relaxed into her hold and wrapped his arms around her. 

“You know you can tell me anything?” She promised, her voice soft, warm. 

“I know.” His voice broke, and his throat burned with the sob he was holding back.

She pulled back, concern on her features as she hesitantly let go of him. She promised she would give him a call later that evening before leaving the apartment.

Spencer stood for a moment; eyes fixated on the door as it closed behind her. 

He wondered how he was ever going to move on from her, from the dreams of a future that was so close but just barely out of reach.

Ultimately, he wasn’t jealous of the man who got to have her. 

He was jealous of the fact that she was happy because he could only wish that he was happy too.

‘It's hard for me to say, I'm jealous of the way

You're happy without me’

permanant taglist; @beyonces-breastmilk @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @thelovelyrose @averyhotchner @cynbx @calm-and-doctor @reidyoulikeabook @ssa-m-187

[anna-pixie]

padawan -> obi-wan kenobi {part three}

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

hello!! i have written and rewritten this part a lot, and i still can’t decide whether i am completely happy with it, so honest feedback is encouraged!! ty all so much for your love on the last part, i hope you enjoy <3

summary: you and obi-wan head out on another mission, but something has got him in an awful mood (lmk if you guys figure out what his mood is about before the next part!!)

pairings: obi-wan kenobi x reader

warnings: mentions of sex

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

“Y/N, when you said you were serious about your training I expected I would see you there on time each morning.” The familiar lilt of Obi-Wan’s voice jerks you up from your incredibly deep sleep. You wipe away the drool from the corner of your mouth and gaze around your room with bleary eyes. 

There’s nobody there. 

Then a knock sounds from your door and you realise that your Master is too respectful to just barge into your room without permission. 

“Come in, Master.”

You hear the hiss of your door sliding open and smile sheepishly as your favourite bearded face peers around into the unhomely expanse of your room. Unlike the Jedi Masters, padawans weren’t encouraged to decorate their rooms. That’s a privilege earnt through time and experience. You’re thankful that you went to bed wearing a large jumper last night, though as you stretch the material exposes your stomach ever so slightly. 

“I broke my datapad yesterday…” You trail off, knowing that this is the third one you’ve gone through this year, “I didn’t have anything to set an alarm on.” An innocent smile graces your lips as Obi-Wan sighs, sitting next to you on your unmade sheets as he returns it with his own wry grin. 

“Whatever am I going to do with you, Padawan?” You know your Master well enough by now to be able to tell what he is feeling by the tone of his incredibly expressive voice, and thankfully right now he doesn’t seem too annoyed by your lack of care for your datapad. However, you also know that you’re treading on very thin ice, that you’re going to have to start putting a lot more effort in unless you want him to give up on you like everyone else has. 

It’s been a few weeks since you met Ahsoka which gave you the motivation you needed to get back on track. To say it’s been a hard few weeks would be an understatement. You’re up every morning before the light, fighting and learning and meditating with Obi-Wan. The two of you spend a lot of time together alone in the mornings and evenings when most other people in the temple have already retired to bed, but a lot of your time in the day is shared by Anakin - he thinks it is a great idea to train you and Ahsoka together. 

Now that was a kick in the teeth. 

You like Ahsoka, you really do, but it’s so humiliating to be trained alongside someone so much younger than you. Especially in front of the man you’re head over heels in love with. And, as another cherry on top of the cake of your shit life, the senate has been quiet as of late, which means Padme has plenty of free time to come and oversee your training sessions. Keeping an eye on the Jedi Temple, she says, but everyone sees the smiles exchanged between her and her Jedi. It makes you feel queasy. 

How are you supposed to focus on training when your biggest distraction is hanging in front of you everyday?

You have to give it to Obi-Wan, he tries his best to steer you away from the pain caused by seeing Anakin and Padme together. He stands directly in your eyeline when he knows they are near each other, so that you can’t see anything except his smiling face. When Anakin suggests lunch with Ahsoka and Padme, Obi-Wan regretfully informs him of the non-existent prior engagements the two of you have with a sneaky smile your way. 

With all the hardship of the past few weeks, you’re happy with how close it has brought you and your Master. 

“Can we just leave it for today, Master? Please.” You flop back down onto your bed, your eyes remaining on Obi-Wan as you send him your best pleading, doe-eyed look. 

“Sadly, we’ve been called away to war so I’m afraid that isn’t an option. It seems as though this is going to be a long operation. We’re first needed in Umbara, it seems as though General Krell has been executed by the clones. After that we go straight to Mandalore.”

“The clones executed a Jedi General?” Your voice is high as you stand up, heading over to your small closet and quickly rifling through your clothes to find something that would hold up for a few days. 

“It appears that he was a Separitast sympathiser. He turned two clone units against each other, forced them to kill their own.”

Your eyes are wide as Obi-Wan continues to explain the situation awaiting the two of you on Umbara, and your heart clenches as you think about what the Clones must have been gonig through during their time there. You know attachments are forbidden as a Jedi, but you can’t help the close relationships you have formed with some of the soldiers. Captain Rex is like a brother to you. 

���── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

An hour later, you’re holding onto the bar above you as your ship takes off in the direction of Umbara, Obi-Wan looking more jittery than you’ve ever seen him as he paces around next to you. 

“You okay, Master? You seem shaken up.”

“I’m fine, young one.” He dismisses you with a shake of your head, “Come with me, we may as well get some training in whilst we’re enroute.” He doesn’t say anything else, just turns away and heads out of the bridge with not so much as a glance back to make sure you’re following him.

What on Alderaan is going on with him?

His mood doesn’t let up during training, you’ve never seen him come at you so relentlessly. If it wasn’t for the fact that they knew you so well, the passing clones would probably assume that the two of you were fighting to the death in your training room. 

A cry escapes your mouth as he knocks the saber from your hand, as it clatters to the ground and rolls somewhere you don’t bother to look for, you expect him to stop. However his saber remains active, and he seems to be in a trance of sorts as he swings for you once more, only stopped from making contact with a part of your body when you swing your leg out from beneath you, causing the two of you to fall to the ground with a low grunt from him. His saber falls from his grasp in the same way yours did, and you work on figuring out how to calm him down as his body cages yours into the ground. 

The only noise in the room is the sound of you both breathing heavily, and when your eyes finally look up and meet his again you almost feel as though he has used the force to steal your breath away from you. His blue eyes capture yours, not letting up as his gaze seems to only darken the longer the two of you lay there. 

You can’t help but be reminded of a similar situation you found yourself in with Anakin a while ago, the two of you ended up tangled on the ground after a round of playful sparring. It was all heavy breathing and dark looks and you remember that all you could think was how much you had wanted him to kiss you in that moment.

So why, Maker tell, do you have the exact same feeling now? You thought that your crush on Obi-Wan had been a silly, fleeting thing back when you first began training under him. You didn’t think it would return with a vengeance, your mind silently asking him to lean down further as you struggle to pull your eyes away from his own. When you and Anakin has been in this same situation, you had hoped that he was going to kiss you, so it was humiliating when he finally tore his gaze from yours and pulled himself away from you with an awkward cough. 

You think that Obi-Wan will do the same. Of course he will, he’s the most rule abiding Jedi you’ve ever met. 

That’s why, when you feel his lips being placed softly on yours, you think you’re just hallucinating. It takes your mind a moment to catch up to what is actually occurring, your eyes fluttering shut as he pulls away and then presses his lips to yours with more fervour once he realises that you aren’t going to push him away. 

The hand that almost struck you with his saber minutes before reaches up, holding onto your jaw whilst the other keeps him steady on top of you. He breathes heavily as he kisses you, your breath minging as you savour the feeling. This isn’t your first kiss, you had snuck out to the clubs of Coruscant before and kissed random boys before, but this was different. This was your first kiss since you had fallen in love with Anakin. All those nights you had spent dreaming, hoping, praying that he would be the next person you kiss. Yet here you are, your lips moving feverishly against your Master’s as you thread one of your hands into the long hair at the nape of his neck. 

You must stay like that, basking in the feeling of each other for a good few minutes before a loud bang from the corridor snaps you both out of the spell you had fallen under. Obi-Wan quickly gets up, sticking out his hand to locate his saber, unable to look you in the eye as you slowly rise from your position. Your mouth tingles and your eyes are wide as you stare at the side of Obi-Wan’s head. 

He smooths his hand over his beard and mumbles a quick, “That shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry, Padawan.” before leaving the room hastily. You flinch at the way he says the word Padawan, like he is reminding you both that what you just did was not only forbidden but also extremely morally wrong. You’ve never been one to care about such trivialities, but Obi-Wan is definitely a fair bit older than you, to say the least. 

As you catch your breath and find your lightsaber, you think to yourself that it’s good that you were interrupted, because if you weren’t then you might’ve been found by a soldier who would’ve reported what he saw back to the council. You ignore the part of you that wishes you would have continued, that thinks of how well your lips worked together and how at home you felt with his body on top of yours. And most of all, you ignore the part of you that wonders if him kissing you had anything to do with his sudden mood change since departing for the trip.

The rest of the journey is slow and quiet, you take some time to meditate and gather your thoughts, knowing you’re in no state to be dealing with anything important right now. A soldier offers you something to eat but you have to decline, with the way your stomach is turning you know you won’t be able to stomach any food. 

Obi-Wan seems to have retired to somewhere quiet on the ship, you don’t see him until you touch down on Umbara. The capital has been captured now, and that is where you will spend the night before heading to Mandalore, however you must first deal with the execution of General Krell at a nearby facility that was taken by the clones. 

You walk silently alongside your Master, an awkward tension in the air that is an extreme change from your usual playful banter and general good moods. As you approach Captain Rex and his troopers, he shoots you an inquisitive look, which you quickly brush off with a whisper that you’ll talk to him later. 

The situation is resolved quickly, you and your Master both know you can take Rex’s word for the events that transpired, and you make sure Krell’s body is properly taken care of. 

“We’ve only got one spare speeder on us, General, so Y/N will have to ride with one of the boys.” Are Captain Rex’s departing words before his gunship takes off towards the capital, leaving you, Obi-Wan and a few more troopers to travel back via speeder. 

“You can ride with me, Y/N.” A clone who is about to depart shouts over to you, though your attempt to walk in his direction is thwarted by a sudden, harsh grip on your forearm. You turn quickly, shocked to see Obi-Wan shake his head, gesturing over to his own speeder instead. 

“She’ll ride with me.” 

The trooper offers no argument, simply saluting the two of you before speeding off towards the capital with a trail of dust in his wake. 

You notice that Obi-Wan still hasn’t directly addressed you since the incident on the ship, so you stay quiet whilst climbing onto the speeder, waiting for him to say something. A squeak leaves your mouth when you’re pushed forward, Obi-Wan’s large body enveloping you from behind as he reaches past you to grab hold of the handles, and you’re off before you can even think about what is going on.

“We need to talk when we get back.”

Are the first words spoken to you, and the last, because he quickly falls silent. Though, you can’t help the warmth that spreads through you when his chin rests on your shoulder, his beard scratching your cheek oh so slightly. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Dinner in Umbara is a quick affair, you scoff down what you can, not talking as much as usual due to your preoccupied mind. Obi-Wan disappeared after you both briefed Master Windu who is still back at the temple, and you wonder if he is off meditating somewhere, trying to reconcile for the ‘mistake’ that the two of you made. 

You’ve been fighting your own inner turmoil about the situation since it happened earlier that day. Once you finish your food, you retire back to the uncomfortable bed in a tiny room at the top of the large building, assuming that Obi-Wan has decided to forgo the conversation and ignore you altogether. 

As you lie on the hard metal, your mind wanders over the past few months. You wonder how Anakin would react if he knew you and Obi-Wan had kissed. Would he be angry? Jealous? Happy? Deep down you know you would want him to be jealous, you would want him to be angry at the thought of any other man having you in the way that he wants you. 

But he doesn’t want you in that way, you remind yourself. Does Obi-Wan even want you in that way? You know he is a well revered man, and nobody can deny how good looking he is. If he really was looking for a romantic, or even just sexual, connection he could probably find that anywhere - why would he get that from plain old you?

A pang of sadness hits your gut as you think about him regretting the kiss, returning to Coruscant and finding another girl that he would rather betray the Jedi code in order to be with. And with wide eyes and a whisper of ‘oh no’, you realise that this is exactly how you felt when your feelings for Anakin started growing stronger. Just what did that kiss stir within you, surely your years old feelings for your Master haven’t suddenly resurfaced, right?

A knock on your door startles you, that deep in thought you hadn’t heard anyone approaching your rather isolated room. 

“Y/N?” It’s Obi-Wan. 

“You can come in, it’s open.

He slides the door open, his actions sheepish and small and not at all like the overly confident man he usually is. It pains you to see him like this, stumbling and second guessing everything he does. 

“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked when you’re not on Coruscant, anything could wander in.”

“Sorry, Master.” You’ve shuffled to the edge of the bed now, Obi-Wan sitting beside you, mirroring the exact position you were in when he woke you up this morning. Before everything turned into a mess. 

“I… I’m so sorry, Padawan. I abused my position as your Master and I never should’ve even thought about doing something like that with you. Especially after you confided in me about your feelings for Anakin, I don’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage of your vulnerability.” His voice is so shaky that you barely recognise it, and a wave of sadness hits you when you realise that he must’ve been carrying this burden of guilt around with him all day. 

“Obi-Wan, it’s fine. You didn’t force yourself on me, I was completely on board when it happened, in fact I quite enjoyed it. I know it was wrong, against the code or whatever, but I won’t tell anybody. Please don’t feel guilty.” You make sure he keeps his eyes on you, a delicate touch on his cheek to keep him faced your way. A sigh emits from his mouth and your heart swells in your chest when he leans his head into your hand, seeking your comfort. 

“I’m tired, Y/N. This war, I’m beginning to feel it’s toll.”

“There’s no shame in admitting you need a break, Master, but it’s not just tiredness that is eating at you right now. I know you, there’s something else going on. You can tell me. Is it something to do with Umbara, Mandalore, anything?”

“Thank you for your concern, Padawan, I’m quite alright.”

“Don’t do that, Obi-Wan.” Your voice wavers this time, “Don’t use that title as a way to brush me off. Yes, I’m your Padawan, but I hope that by now I’m also your friend.”

“Jedi aren’t supposed to have friends, Y/N.”

You scoff, removing your hand from his face as you turn away from him, not wanting to look at him as he lies to you. 

“I was always jealous of him, you know.” He speaks again, after a few minutes of slightly uncomfortable silence. 

“Of who?”

“Anakin.”

You turn back, your interest peaked as he looks at you. You swallow, a blush coating your cheeks as you note that his eyes are as dark as they were before. Before he kissed you. 

“What reason could you possibly have had for being jealous of him? Oh, Maker, don’t tell me you’re in love with Senator Amidala.”

He chuckles, “No, little one, I was jealous of him because he always seemed to have your attention when he cared so little for you. I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at him.”

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

tag list:

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[aliixen]

Soft[Christa Lenz x Fem!Reader]

Okay so I’ve got some ideas in my head that I need to get out. This was one of them, I started writing them down because they just keep coming to me and I;m still on my attack on titan brainrot, so please bear with me. This is a short one shot where reader is part of the 104th Cadet Corps and Christa’s best friend. There are no amazing things here, just pure fluff so if any of you need some sweetness today, here you go. Enjoy!  ❤️

Note: Sorry for mistakes and bad writing, I’m still a novice and English isn’t my first language. I also have a problem with writing short snippets because I always end up making them longer and longer, adding new things so this is one of the first I managed to write and not turn into a story with chapters 😖

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- You should watch out for yourself dummy! You’re always making me worried! - Christa said as she cleaned another cut on your face, a result of your recklessness during training session - What if something happened to you and I wouldn’t be there?

- Relax Christa, it’s just a small cut! It will heal in no time so it’s not a big deal - you gave her your award winning smile to show her everything was alright but it quickly turned into a pout when she gently smacked your forehead with her small hand - Meanie.

- Oh don’t be like that you big baby. Besides, you always say that it’s just something! If you’d only watch out for yourself more… - you saw a glint of worry in her eyes and it made you feel guilty about your actions.

You often got hurt while you were training and Christa, your best friend, was always there to help you, knowing you had a knack for getting in trouble. Today was no exception and once again you found yourself sitting on Christa’s bed in the shared room, her soft hands treating your injuries as you gazed into her blue eyes. You were alone and it was hard to focus on anything else since for the past few months you grew to love your dearest friend, although you kept it to yourself, too afraid of losing her to even try and do something about it.

It was no wonder. Christa was a literal angel, both in looks and character and everybody knew it. That was why she was so popular with guys and girls alike, her good heart and sweet smiles always making them feel like they were being graced with the presence of a goddess. 

You were the lucky one that got the privilege of calling yourself her best friend but you were still far behind Ymir. Ymir. Every time the two of them interacted together you felt jealousy tug at your heart and even though you hid it well it was still bothering you greatly. There was no chance for you and Christa happening, yet the possessiveness inside you wanted her to be only yours, to the point that you stopped hanging out with her while Ymir was around. It just hurt too much. Maybe that was the reason for your recent rise in times you got injured. It meant being alone with Christa like right now and you would do anything to have more of those moments.

- What is it? You’re spacing out again Y/N. Are you sure you’re alright? - Christa’s worried voice reached you and when you focused on the present, you realised she was closer than before, so close that your noses were brushing. Christa stared into your E/C eyes, searching for something before she pressed her forehead against yours. You could have sworn your heart stopped for a second as a crimson red blush spread across your cheeks, her presence this close to you rendering you speechless - Hmm, you don’t have a fever...but your face is all red! Do you feel lightheaded? Or hot? I can bring you some water, you just have to wait a…

- No! Please don’t go! - you cut her off, unable to stop yourself from reaching out for her as she was about to turn to leave. Your arms wrapped around her middle and you pressed yourself into her stomach with your eyes closed, afraid that if you open them you will have to see her reaction to your sudden outburst. And you didn’t want that. You weren’t usually clingy but today was actually the first day in two weeks that you got to be alone with her. You didn’t want that to end so you just squeezed tighter, holding on so that you could get just a little bit more time with her.

- ...Y/N? Hey, it’s alright. I’m not going to leave, so open your eyes, please? For me? - her warmth and soothing voice calmed you enough to loosen your grip on her but not let go completely. Your heart jumped when you felt her pet your head gently, running her slender fingers through your hair and the gesture made you calm down. You breathed out and slowly tilted your head up to look at her, meeting her light blue eyes that emanated such kindness and warmth - So? Tell me what’s going on, please. I don’t like it when you’re bothered by something. Oh no. Did I do something wrong?

- No! No! It’s not your fault, it’s just that...No, I’m sorry, it’s stupid anyway - you hid your face from her once again but she was quicker than you and before you could successfully bury your head between your arm and her shirt she managed to grab you, squeeshing your cheeks playfully as she made you look up once again.

- Tell. Me. - Christa said in an authoritative tone that was accompanied by a pout and the combination made you smile slightly as you watched her tenderly. Even when she tried to be firm, she was still as cute as ever. If she was going to give you this face, how were you supposed to keep quiet?

- I just...I missed you. Being with you - you managed to get out, ignoring the lingering fear that gripped your heart - We don’t see each other as much as we did with all this training and stuff.

- What do you mean, silly, we see each other everyday! - she gave you the biggest smile she could muster to make you feel better and the butterflies in your stomach danced at the sight.

She was right of course, but that wasn’t what you were talking about and you wanted her not to worry about your weird behavior. Unfortunately, due to her sweet nature, you knew she would do everything in her power to get to the bottom of the problem and help you, so you had to tell her the real reason eventually. You detangled yourself from her form, feeling a sudden wave of courage and confidence wash over you before standing up and grabbing her face in your hands, the same way she did to you just a minute ago. You towered over her and watched as her expression formed into one of surprise.

- I know, but it’s not the same. I meant we don’t see each other like that anymore, just the two of us...I like that. Having you all to myself, I mean - her blue eyes widened at your admission and you couldn’t stop the blush spreading on your cheeks up to your ears, their tips red, betraying your emotions - I like being with you, you know...and I, umm...I mean, maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, but...oh my god, why am I stuttering….I….I’m sorry, I don’t…

Your embarrassing rambling was stopped when you felt Christa’s lips on yours, a state of shock paralyzing your senses that couldn't process what was going on. The softness and sweetness of her lips was all you could focus on and you couldn’t believe this was happening but for now you decided to not dwell on it and simply kiss her back as your heart fluttered in your chest. Your best friend, this beautiful, gentle angel was here in your arms and you couldn’t be happier. This was all you wanted. To your dismay, as soon as you started to move your lips against hers, Christa pulled back quickly and covered her mouth with her hand as her face became red in an instant.

- I’m so sorry Y/N! I don’t know what came over me, you just looked so cute when you rambled so I… - she started to explain herself but was interrupted with the sound of your chuckling. She stared at you for a few seconds before a pout appeared on her face and she stamped her foot on the ground, seemingly irritated - Geez, why are you laughing!

- I’m sorry, I’m sorry! - you managed to get yourself under control and gave her a cheeky smile. Taking a step forward you closed the distance between you two and ruffled her hair, too happy to worry about the possibility of making a mistake - I’m not mad or anything! I like you Christa, so I’m really happy right now.

- Wait, what….? You like...me? - her face became even redder as you leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on her nose and smiling gleefully. She averted her eyes, opting to look at the floor instead and you had to stop yourself from squealing at how cute she was - But I thought...I mean you weren’t hanging out with me as much as we did before and I got worried and then...I realized I like you too?

She almost whispered the last part and you had to focus on what she was saying to hear, but as you did, you felt an immense amount of happiness fill you before you grabbed Christa and lifted her in the air, turning around with her in your arms, her sweet laugh echoing through the room.

- Y/N! Put me down, we’re gonna fall! - she protested but her eyes were closed and she seemed just as happy, her hands squeezing your neck tightly in an attempt to hold herself up. As your head started spinning you thought it was time to stop your twirling before you really fall down, so you slowed down but still kept Christa in your arms, refusing to let her down just yet. She was now as high as you thanks to your hold and it was all so perfect that you couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her again. She squealed against your lips before relaxing in your embrace, her gentle hands tightening her grip on the back of your neck. Both of you smiled into the kiss, happy to finally be together like you were supposed to. You broke the kiss and leaned your forehead against hers, gazing deep into her blue eyes that you grew to love so much during those hard months of training. They were still the same as at the beginning, warm, kind and making you feel like this world might not be so bad after all.

- My sweet darling… - she blushed at your worlds and let go of you to hide her face behind her hands, the tenderness of your words making her heart beat twice as fast, in par with yours.

- Stupid! You’re making me blush, quit it! - you smiled and grinned at her, knowing that this would only be the beginning of your teasing now that you were together. She would learn that soon enough.

- Never, my dear. I like you too much.

- Oh, you. I like you too, dummy...

[cheri-translates]

Headcanon - woes of your children

This work, 小朋友的碎碎念, was originally written by 君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 🌸

[ VICTOR’S SON ]

Sometimes, I suspect that I’m not my dad’s child.

It’s common knowledge (well, maybe not), that my dad is the manager and chef of Souvenir. Anyone who has eaten the pudding my dad makes will agree that his skills are superb, and I think so too. My friends at kindergarten are envious that I have such a gentle mum and a dad who’s incredible at making desserts. 

But I think they have misunderstood the meaning of "gentle” and what my dad is really like.

I shan’t start with how my mum is always bursting with energy. Let’s start with my dad. He makes desserts frequently, and the house is often filled with the fragrance of pudding, souffles, cookies and little cakes. 

But... they’re all for my mum. 

Indeed, I’m unworthy of dad’s desserts. 

“It’s not good for your teeth if you eat too many desserts,” says my mum while she eats one of dad’s desserts.

“As a man, you have to work hard to get what you want,” says my dad when I ask him for pudding. I admit that what he says isn’t wrong, but I just had my fourth birthday... 🙃

Normally, dad is very stern with me. He doesn’t let me sleep beside mum, doesn’t let me cry, doesn’t let me lose my temper at mum... It’s as though mum is dad’s child instead.

Actually, I think my mum is the true king of the house. She can get dad’s pudding, can openly challenge him, can act coquettishly with him, and has much more pocket money than I do...

Forget it, the more I think about it, the more I feel like crying. Looks like I should squat next to the dustbin and see if anyone would pick me up. I might be am definitely the most miserable kid in the world. 

[ GAVIN’S SON ]

Dad says that boys will naturally want to protect the girl they like.

My dad is the Commander of Loveland City’s Special Task Force. He’s normally the type who’s cold-hearted and merciless, not even letting plants off. Sounds cool, right? But what his subordinates don't know is that at home, my dad is a henpecked husband.

Even the slightest frown from my mum causes him to worry for the entire day. Sometimes, when mum discovers that dad is injured, she’d cry until her eyes are red. Dad would repeatedly promise that he wouldn’t conceal any injuries from her the next time, and would kiss and hug her, oblivious that there’s a child at the scene.

Oh, I forgot to mention something. In my dad’s eyes, I have no standing at all.

The most precious treasure is always my mum. I don’t disagree though. After all, mum loves me very much, and I love her very much too. It’s only right that I protect her.

“When you have someone you want to protect, you’ll think of ways to make yourself strong,” dad once said to me. “First, you need to learn to sleep on your own, and not stick to mum.”

Although it does make logical sense, I suspect my dad has his own selfish reasons. But I have no guts to say it aloud.

Dad and I have agreed that next time, we’ll protect mum together. I said that when I’m all grown up, I’ll ensure mum can walk on the streets without worrying about getting disturbed by anyone or anything, just like what dad used to do.

After hearing this, dad asked where I heard it from - of course it was Uncle Minor. I watched dad make a call, arranging to meet up with Uncle Minor. After telling mum that he’d be gone for a while but will be back for dinner, he left. 

So what exactly are dad and Uncle Minor planning to do?

[ LUCIEN’S SON ]

In my dad’s eyes, I might have always been an accident.

According to what I heard from the professor uncles in Loveland University, when my mum did a check when having me, the doctor said that I might be a girl. Back then, my dad had grinned so widely. 

When he saw that I was a boy, his face was just as dark as how happy he was back then. I heard that before I was born, everything prepared was pink. Sigh, I didn’t realise that that was just the beginning of my route to more accidents.

Normally, dad looks refined and cultivated, and sometimes dotes on mum a lot. Why do I say “sometimes”? Because I’ve seen dad bullying mum, pressing her down on the bed. Mum even cried. 

Then again, dad is a 180m man, and is so heavy. If he presses down on me too, I’d definitely cry too. Furthermore, mum is a girl.

Dad seems to turn a blind eye to my existence. For example, when we eat dumplings, he’d hold onto mum’s hand, and occasionally hug her and kiss her and things like that. I also want mum’s hugs and kisses...

He can’t even fold a dumpling properly. Even till now, he hasn’t learnt how to make a nice-looking one.

Normally, other people’s parents would address each other by name, or words like “wife” or “husband”. But my dad always calls mum “Little Butterfly”, “Silly Girl”, “Little Sweetheart,” “Greedy Cat”... It’s even more unbearable than how Torvald calls Nora “my little skylark” in “A Doll’s House”.

Despite my complaints, my dad is very incredible. He’s a university professor at such a young age, and even has a research centre named after him. Dad says that in the future, I have to do equally well or even better. I think so too. After all, I need to take care of mum in the future.

It’s pretty late, and I haven’t finished the test paper Dad prepared for me. I’ll stop here.

[ KIRO’S SON ]

My dad treats me pretty well. That is, if you ignore how he often makes me a scapegoat.

My dad is a widely known celebrity, so it’s necessary for him to manage his weight strictly. But my dad fails in this aspect. Quoting what Uncle Savin says, “Kiro, the only thing you know how to do is eat, eat, and eat!”

He doesn't eat alone though. He brings my mum along. That’s right, only my mum.

If Uncle Savin does a sudden check and finds snacks in the house, my dad would lack a conscience and assert that they belong to me. Although I’d feel maligned, I won’t rat him out.

Dad likes calling mum “Miss Chips”, and he says chips are a symbol to their love. But I’ve never seen other married couples eat the symbols of their love.

Apart from snatching snacks from me, he likes snatching toys as well. He’s always the one to open the presents mum gives me. He says it’s because he’s afraid I can’t open it given my young age. If that’s the case, why doesn’t he give it to me once he has opened it?! What a liar. 🙃

Everyone says that I look cute, and I think so too hehe~ My mum enjoys kneading my face and ruffling my hair. I think the only time I’ve won against my dad in my four years of existence is when my mum commented that I’m cuter than he is.

Every time my dad bullies me and doesn’t let me get close to mum, I’ll think of what my mum said. A man has a magnanimous heart, so I won’t hold it against him. When he’s 70 or 80 and balding, while I’m in my wise 40s or 50s, mum will definitely like me more. 

Forget it, I shan’t hold it against him. Apple Box is barking at me to take him out for a walk. His golden hair really reminds me of a certain someone!!

[ SHAW’S SON ]

I think my dad and I get along pretty well.

He likes taking me out skateboarding, and I like it too. But if I were to accidentally fall and injure myself, my dad would be scolded by my mum, and I won’t be able to escape her wrath either.

My mum looks really fierce when she scolds us. Every sentence from her is stabbing. According to her, it was a skill she developed from bickering with my dad when they were younger. Thinking about my dad’s sharp tongue, I do agree that it’s a possibility.

Although my dad looks like a bad citizen, he’s really good academically. According to my mum, he was the only graduate student in Loveland University archaeology department at the age of twenty. He’s the teacher’s pet, a model for his male juniors, and the target of females... I digress. But back then, it was true that many people tried to woo him, but he was only interested in mum.

He loves giving mum nicknames, like “Liu Chun Mei or “Guo Xiaoyu", and "Qing Tingyan". I’m so glad my mum threatened my dad for the privilege to name me. I can’t begin to imagine if my name was coined by my dad, I’d probably be too embarrassed to meet anyone.

[Note] These are the fake pseudonyms Shaw calls her in the Chinese version. In EN, the pseudonym he gives her is “Mary Sue”.

My dad has a unique way of drinking beverages. According to the uncles in his band, my mum used to love drinking bubble tea. But eventually, her tastes got strung along with his strange ones. They’re both pretty compatible hahaha.

His taste buds aren’t the only strange things. His aesthetics are strange as well. Wearing Buddha beads with leathers gloves, a jacket with rivets... My mum says she kept his leather jacket when she was pregnant with me. But once I was born, he took it out again.

It’s 11pm, and dad and I have planned to sneak out to do spray painting on the streets behind my mum’s back. We’ll continue next time.

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More translated and original works: here

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