#THINKING I UNDERSTOOD THE WORLD AROUND ME

[pretty-little-mind33]

Dad!James Potter x wife!fem!reader

Summary: Telling James you're pregnant again is scary.

Genre: pure fluff

Warnings: reader is pregnant, vomiting

~ set after Santa Baby and before Snow On The Beach ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

Date nights were extremely important to James. Since Henry's birth, he was adamant that his alone time with you was something he didn't want to neglect, even if there was a child in the picture.

Now that Henry was nine, convincing Sirius and Remus to babysit wasn't hard. Especially since they would bring their four year old, Cassiopeia, with them and Henry would graciously play her while you and James went out. 

Tonight's date isn't any different than the others, except that you're a bundle of jumping nerves. It certainly doesn't help that James looks positively stunning with his dark hair slicked back, a few loose curls arrayed across his forehead, and his dark suit, which conveniently matches the velvet navy dress you're wearing.

The restaurant is fancy. It's James's favorite and you secretly think one of the reasons is he likes showing you how much he can spoil you, as if he hadn't been doing just that for the past thirteen years. He'd ordered this fancy appetizer, along with some wine you haven't touched and was currently talking about work. Taking over his father's company was putting some stress on him, which you understood. 

"You know, I can't wait till Harry starts school, not that I won't miss the little bugger," James chuckles behind his wine glass, his mind wandering, "but because we'll have more time. Just us."

His words cause your stomach to sink. How are you supposed to tell him now, you think. James, always observant to your emotions, frowns when he sees your expression. 

"You okay, you look like you're going to be sick—" 

As he speaks, the nausea hits you hard and you stand, holding a hand over your mouth as you rush to the nearest bathroom without any warning. You clumsily throw yourself on the ground, vomiting into the toilet and you choke on an embarrassed sob. 

James is hot on your heels the moment you leave dinner so abruptly, running into the women's bathroom without a care in the world. The older women, who'd been mildly appalled by your vomiting, send him some dirty looks but he doesn't pay them any mind as he opens the stall. He kneels next to you, gently gathering your hair in his hand as he uses the other one to rub soothing circles on your back.

"Hey, my love, what happened?" He asks between soothing words, his hand strokes your hair as you slump against him, tears glistening in your waterline. 

Your husband isn't stupid and he knows you. He looks into your eyes and he understands instantly. His breath hitches as he remembers just how bad your 'morning' sickness was when you were pregnant with Henry, lasting and becoming even worse in the evenings. His gaze softens instantly and clicks his tongue. "Why didn't you tell me?" he scolds half-heartedly, still rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

You sniffle, wiping your mouth with an enormous amount of toilet-paper as you whimper, "I felt like I was going to disappoint you, you seemed so happy for time alone and—"

"And now we are going to have another baby," James finishes for you, kissing your temple as he helps you up and brings you to the sink. He pushes hair behind your face as he gently takes some paper-towel, wets it, and gently runs it under your chin and around your mouth. You look miserable and his heart breaks. 

He doesn't say anything for a moment as he washes your hands, washing his in the process as well. Your mind races. You don't know what to think, what to feel about this new life growing inside you.

He places his large palm on your stomach. You're not showing, yet. You flinch, sniffing. "Why so sad, love?" he whispers as he tries to comfort you.

"You're upset," you whisper, looking at your appearance in the mirror. You look like a mess.

James grins. "Says who?" He laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead again. 

You look on the verge of tears again and your husband's smile falters. He leans down, catching your gaze so you're looking at him properly. "Hey, love, please don't cry okay? I'm not upset, I promise. I'm happy. So so happy, really," James reassures you, a familiar glint of sincerity in his eyes. "We are having another baby. This is the best news, okay?" 

Tension eases in your shoulders and you finally relax. The warm feeling of happiness seeps back into you. You sniff again, looking into his eyes. "Promise?"

He straightens himself and holds out his pinky for you to take. "I pinky promise." You hook your pinky with his and he leans down, kissing his closed fist. You hesitate, finally cracking a small smile as you do the same. 

"Excuse me? This is the ladies room," a snark voice calls from behind you both and you look towards the voice. A woman is standing tensely in the doorway, gripping the hand of her young daughter, and she's glaring daggers at James.

The little girl looks confused and she's clearly feeling the fear her mother is and you can tell from James's expression he feels bad. 

"Sorry." He waves his hands in the air, his cheeks dusted pink, as he points to you, "My wife was sick—I was just leaving—" James looks your way and mouths, "You coming?"

You nod, taking his hand, as he leads you out the door. You mumble a small apology to the woman and James sends a small reading smile to the girl, hoping not to scare her.

Once your back at your table, James gulps down his wine and looks at you sheepishly. "Oops," he mutters. You smile and cover your giggles. James's smile widens when you laugh and he reaches over, resting his hand over yours. 

"Seriously, baby," he says, seriously now, "I'm really happy. And Henry will be happy too."

You rub your temples, taming some of the wisps of hair that fall in front of your eyes. "Yeah? You think so?"

James laughs, "No. He's gonna be furious," he pauses when he sees that his joke isn't landing and he squeezes your hand. "I'm joking. He'll be the best big brother. He's already so good with Cassi, he's practically an older brother already."

You smile. "He is, isn't he?"

James hums, that giddy smile of his returning. "Pregnant. Again," he muses, "I can't believe how lucky I am," he says and looks at you like you're the brightest star in the universe. You feel your cheeks warm. "I love you."

"I love you more," you say back, bringing his knuckles to your lips. 

James grins and when he catches glimpse of your untouched wine glass, a smirk curls his lips and shake his head, clicking his tongue. "Can't drink this, baby," he teases you and slides it over to his side. You roll your eyes. 

"I wasn't," you argue playfully.

"Hmm?"

You swat his hand, knowing he's teasing you on purpose to lighten the mood. Still, your nerves have calmed and you aren't feeling as nauseous anymore. In fact, you can finally truly feel excited now. Another baby. You smile.

Once the food arrives and the topic of conversation had changed to James excitedly coming up with new baby names, you feel at ease again and warmth spreads in your stomach.

You move your foot under the table, gently touching James's ankle—just to let him know you love him. James doesn't mention it but his smile widens as he speaks, a look of adoration and love sparkling in his eyes. 

[pathologicalreid]

all the debts i owe | s.r.

in which Spencer takes your kids into account when deciding whether or not he should take a plea deal, and it doesn't go the way you expect

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: prison reid, takes place during 12x14 "collision course", i love my little reid family so much word count: 1.29k a/n: caamp song fic caamp song fic caamp song fic everyone cheered!!!!

Somehow, you felt like you were invading a conversation that you shouldn’t be a part of. Emily and Spencer knew this world much better than you did, and you were nothing more than a fly on the wall, grateful to be in close proximity to your husband after a few days of him being in jail.

You’d stopped by yesterday, dropping off a bag of his belongings and leaving them with Emily. You had wanted to see him then, if for nothing more than a confirmation that he was still breathing, but he was finally getting some sleep. The comfort of knowing that he had Emily watching over him had to be enough.

Spencer wasn’t allowed to keep his wedding band on. It was something that the jail was going to hold on to, but Emily had intervened and arranged for you to keep it.

The gold band weighed heavy against your chest, suspended by a chain around your neck for safe keeping, you kept it tucked into the collar of your sweater while you watched Spencer and Emily talk. “Please, just think about it,” Emily pleaded with him. “Think about the evidence.”

“I know,” Spencer assured her. “Scratch dots his Is and crosses his Ts. We know that,” he responded, brown eyes flickering over to yours for just a moment.

Leaning heavily against the wall for support, Emily shook her head, “But a jury won’t. A jury will only see what Scratch wants them to see.”

You shifted on your chair, resting your elbows on the table and propping your head in your hands. “You think they’ll convict me?” Spencer asked, a string of hurt threaded through his voice as if the thought of a jury of his peers thinking he was a killer caused him physical pain.

“I don’t know,” Emily answered, her voice barely above a whisper, “But if they do. Five years—that’s doable. You are young. You can have a life after that.” You were grateful for Emily; it seemed like she was doing the begging that you didn’t have the energy for.

“Not as an FBI agent,” Spencer rebutted, “I’d be a convicted felon.”

Her face softened as you watched, “Yes,” she acquiesced, “but you’d be free.”

At the first sign of tears in Spencer’s eyes, you felt water lining your own, “The FBI is my home. It’s where I belong.”

Emily looked at you for help, but you couldn’t get yourself to speak. You understood Spencer in a way few people ever could, the idea of him not being a part of the BAU made your chest ache as much as it did his. “You don’t belong in prison, and if you play Russian roulette with this… twenty-five years. That is a lifetime.”

Your husband lifts his chin in a display of false confidence, “If Scratch is framing me, you guys will get him. I know you will.”

“Yes, we will. I promise you we will never give up, and we will exonerate you.” Familiar silver started to line Emily’s eyes as well, “But what if we can’t do that this week? Or this year? Or this… decade? Because I know we can’t do it before your arraignment.”

Spencer turned to look at you, fully facing you for the first time since you arrived at the conference room this morning. “Thirty, twenty-seven, and twenty-five.”

Emily shook her head, confused. “What? What is that?” Her dark brows were knit together, looking between the two of you as she waited for an explanation.

You faced the two of them, wiping your sweaty palms across your jeans, “That’s how old our kids would be when he gets released.”

“They won’t even know who I am,” he said miserably, looking up at the ceiling to stop tears from gathering in his eyes.

Standing up from the chair, you stepped over to him, taking your rightful place at his side. “You could take the new deal, Spence,” you reminded him. “Five to ten—”

“I need to see them grow up,” he pleaded, brown eyes boring into you as he begged you to understand. Spencer always accounted for every possible outcome. Despite the haze of the past few days, you were sure that he knew what he was getting himself into.

You nodded up at him, taking one of his hands in yours before glancing over at Emily, “Can you give us a minute?”

Prentiss sighed and gave the both of you an understanding look before she slipped out of the room. “I need to see them grow up,” he repeated himself, dragging his free hand down his face while you squeezed his hand comfortingly.

“I know,” you whispered, “but with the deal… five years.”

“Or ten,” he countered. “Ten years… Nell would be in high school.”

Your stomach flipped at the idea, your oldest baby in high school, and just like that, you understood Spencer’s decision. You’d be there, outside in the world with your kids for those five to ten years; you’d see all of the in-between. Spencer would miss everything, learning about his own children through phone calls and letters, he’d play a passive role in their lives. If there was even the slightest chance that he would plead not guilty and win, then this whole nightmare would be over. “You have to fight,” you said, announcing the conclusion that he had already come to.

He nodded in confirmation, “Angel,” he whispered, “I don’t want you to come to the arraignment.”

Your breathing hitched, “What?”

“I want you to be with the kids. You’re the only parent they’ll have for who knows how long,” he explained himself.

You hadn’t worked out what you were going to tell the kids. They were too young to understand. Finn was barely out of the newborn phase, Livvy’s vocabulary was expanding every day, and Nell… Spencer was Nell’s best friend. Steeling your expression, you nodded once, “Okay, I won’t go.”

His lips parted and closed like he wanted to say something but stopped himself, you squeezed his hand in an attempt to be encouraging. “Just in case things don’t go the way we want… don’t wait for me.”

You dropped his hand, shaking your head in horror. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing from him, without a second thought, you reached into your shirt and pulled his wedding band out, leaving it on the chain, “For better or for worse, Spencer.”

“This is far worse than anything we could have ever thought of,” he continued, trying to give you an out. You could leave and he wouldn’t fault you, but you’d fault yourself.

Instead, you waved away his offer, “It would be an honor to wait for you. If that’s what it takes for me to see you again.”

He kissed you. Ducking his head until his lips met yours, there was nothing chaste about it. You both knew it was the last kiss, and it had to be good enough to last a lifetime. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before, fueled purely by emotion; you kissed him like you’d never see him again. You gripped the collar of his sweater to discourage him from pulling away, and you tried to memorize the feeling of his hands on your waist.

A hollow feeling filled your chest when he pulled away, “I love you,” you breathed.

He nodded, resting his forehead against yours, “I love you too.” He pressed another small kiss to your lips, “I’ll make this up to you.”

You let yourself be pulled into his embrace, burying your face in his chest. You held onto him because this moment couldn’t last forever, but you’d be damned if you weren’t going to drag it out.

[vxlentinescookies]

Ajax listen,,,,listen to me Ajax-

Self Aware AU, where the cookies come to the player's/reader's world. Pick whichever characters you wanna include, I just need to see this 🙏

→ ❛Part of your world❜

→ Characters ; Longan Dragon Cookie, Burning Spice Cookie, Shadow Milk Cookie, Timekeeper Cookie & Millennial Tree Cookie → Quote ; ❛❛If someone came to you and told you “One day you’ll have those who you love the most in the palm of your hand”, well… you never thought that’d become true, nor that it’d be a metaphor…❜❜ → Genre ; Headcanons/Drabble → A/N ; This took me a whole ass night to make and 2500+ words to finish, I hope you like it /lh

Longan Dragon Cookie

“How quaint… to believe someone like you lives in such a… small place”

Having Longan Dragon in your home was… curious to say the least. Not something you expected, yet here you were, with a dragon looking at you as they squatted in your bedroom.

Longan would be hypercritical of the place you lived, noting things like “This looks cheap” or “Its far too small”

Despite that, Longan would be quite intrigued in your life, wanting to see how you worked or what you did, they’d follow you around when not sitting in your living room and meditating.

Nevertheless, they’re there for a reason, they’re with you for a reason, and they’ll make that reason known very, very soon.

It’d take Longan a few months, but eventually, they would come to sit by your side at the table, not sitting down on a chair but instead, sitting down by your side quite literally. They’d stare at you for long moments before finally leaning their head on your shoulder, the weight catching you off guard as you looked at them. 

“... I’ll make sure you live like you deserve one of these days” They’d say, and in that moment, you understood why there had been so many disappearances of delinquents and robbers nearby…

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

One of the few favorite activities of Longan was to read, so much so, that you had to request books from the library more often than not, but with the way Longan was reading them… It had just been a few months, and yet this dragon had consumed almost all of your local library’s books.  So, when they finished reading most of your books, they’d chose to write them. And they’d write about what they saw, about everything they had seen around them, everything they had seen in this new world, and in some sense, it was intriguing to see how a dragon explored the new world they were in, the little things that werent intriguing to you were greatly important to them, in a way that got you even more intrigued by how they saw you.

“... You want to know how I see you?” They’d ask.

You knew fully well that you shouldnt expect much, after all, this was Longan Dragon we were talking about, they werent a kind dragon, they saw cookies as lesser beings, and humans now by extensions, but as you asked them that question, they’d only smile and pat your head softly.

“You’re the reason Im here… Of course I would think highly of you”

A genuine smile, it made your heart flutter as they spoke, a hand going to cup your chin in it.

“You’re interesting, perhaps, one of the most interesting things I’ve seen in this world.”

Besides writing, they’d follow you around and take note of everything you’d do… And by night, they’d curl by your side, taking most of the bed as they allow you to take rest in their chest, as they allow you to take rest in their breaths while their hands thread on your hair.

Burning Spice Cookie

“How intriguing…! Never would I have expected your home to be so… so… erm…”

Another one who seems to heavily judge your house, but also, another one who appears in your home kneeling because it is so small compared to him.

Either way, he gets eased into the ambient quite easily, his search for entertainment leading him to see through everything and all the world has to offer.

Until he… gets bored, again, because your world isnt as different from his (and in some sense, it is… actually… more boring than his old world…)

So, he moves to the next thing closest to him for entertainment!

“Little one, come here” 

He’d call forward to you once, looking at you with dark yet fiery eyes and an everlasting smile, though you knew this once it hid something, after all, despite him coming to your world for x or y reason, it involved you, it always involved you…

“Entertain me” Would be his words once you approached him, his smile becoming only more cryptic as you lifted an eyebrow at his voice. Entertain, him? In what sense or way would you be able to entertain someone akin to a god? 

Seeming to sense your doubt, Burning Spice would only come and hold you from your shirt, lifting you up before staring at you and then…

“Hahahah, you should’ve looked at your face, you really are an interesting one!”

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

Besides seeking something for entertainment, Burning spice is in some sense able to somewhat pass through the crowd, and by that I mean he can somewhat pass as just a very tall human. Nonetheless, between choosing to hit the gym and sending you pictures, he’ll also follow you around, finding even the most monotonous tasks fairly entertaining if it has you in it. Its a weird combo, being outside with a dude in a hoodie and sweat pants following you around while doing groceries, or being in the metro and getting a fairly nice picture of him flexing for you. Burning spice is a menace…

“Aye, welcome home! I took care of some pesky people while you were gone… It was fun hearing their screams…”

…in far more ways than one.

Either way, you two also share a bed, its not like you have a choice with how clingy he can become when sleeping, pulling you in his arms in a heated hug (in the sense that he literally irradiates heat) while snoring loudly, you’ve gotten complaints from neighbors (if you live in an apartment), but somehow… they’ve… they’ve quieted down recently… However, when you ask Burning Spice, he just laughs it off.

Shadow Milk Cookie

“Woowee, what do we have here, sweetheart?”

Not as judgemental of your home, no, for once someone isnt as focused on where you live but…

He is focused on you, looking at you up and down, before hitting his head on the roof of your room, ouch!

He spends most of the days following you around though, using his magic to stay hidden from most people, so much that people may find you crazy for seeing you talk to… nothing!

Either way, much like the others, he’s there for a reason…

“Why Im here?”

You asked Shadow Milk once, after a good few months, what the jester had come to do in your own home. In fact, it perplexed you so much that when you asked him, the feeling seemed to be shared. It was… intriguing to say the least, but he’d only smile before clasping his hands together and saying in a song-esque tune.

“Becuase you’re sooooooooooo interesting, darlin! Just look at you, how could I NOT come here with you?”

Truth to be told, he saw you as who you really were, in some sense he saw you as someone who didnt fall for lies easily, he saw you as someone who saw beyond that and you were… interesting. You were a shot in the dark, and he just had, to have you near.

“You’re so silly, darlin, sososososo silly” He’d add in, patting your head softly as you only smiled and blushed slightly, even while knowing his smile and gaze hid a million of thoughts, and a million of even more ideas.

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not reading around in your home, or following you to the library to read some books, he’d be looking over your shoulder, reading every single note, watching every single thing you do, it makes him curious, how someone so quaint has him wrapped around your finger. And yet, he cant help but smile at the idea of being just like that, wrapped around your finger in a sweet loving embrace.

He’d be the most romantic of the bunch, the one that makes it the most prominent that he’s there with you because he likes you, he dosent even hide it fully despite his jester-esque persona, he just cant hide it! So, when you ask him about what he was doing one day in the balcony of your apartment, he’d only turn and smile softly.

“Why, I'm recreating one of your world’s theatre plays!” He’d say, and you make a mental note to go to the theatre more often… “And you’ve come just in time, silly (y/n)! I need someone to play dearest Juliet!”

You add that it is a tragic love story, and he only brushes it off, adding in that “actors are actors, sweetheart, now come in and act!” so you do, and you have a fun time doing a monologue to a bunch of people who stay and watch, before claps fill the air.

And when time comes to bed, he’ll be the first to curl up in your bed, curl like a cat who welcomes you into his arms so sweetly, you feel the scent of milk, lactonic as it is, and for once you feel safe.

Timekeeper Cookie

“Well, look what we have here!”

To find Timekeeper in your home means to have done something either right or wrong. In your case, its right.

They’re very much curious about everything from the things you do on a daily basis to your home and how electronics work.

Still, and much like some others in this list, they become quickly bored about it, choosing to focus on you as main form of entertainment

Still, you can expect certain shenanigans to ensue.

It was late at night when it happened, just as you were playing when a portal opened and dragged you inside of it. You were scared shitless that much is true but, when you saw the person who dragged you in, you simply could sigh in slight annoyance.

“What? Cant I drag my favorite person in for some fun?” They’d say with that ever present smile, Timekeeper chuckling as she smiled widely at you, before noticing… “Oh, right, it is night where you’re from, guess I took you out at the wrong time!”

You huffed and yawned, before sitting up and looking at your phone… Right, it didnt exactly work when in time rifts, but then again that raised the question, why did they bring you here to begin with? As if being presented with the question loud and clear, they’d clear her throat and speak yet again.

“I simply wanted to see you, nothing wrong with that now?” They’d say quite mischievously, picking you up and bringing you into her lap “Go on, lets- Hm?”

You’d fall asleep into her arms as soon as she picked you up, your calm quiet face being shown to her as you were held in her arms. Well, guess fun had to wait.

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

Much like the others, they also enjoy reading, however, they focus on reading about engineering and mechanics, more so about the mechanics of your world to see if they’re any different from the ones of her world. To say there isnt much difference is but an understatement, there was a hefty amount of difference counting the technology from the TBD was far more advanced, but, even then, you’d be able to get the timekeeper intrigued by the nature of your world.

“Tell me more about your world, c’mon!” They’d ask one day, floating from a time rift as you cooked dinner. 

Unlike the others Timekeeper wasnt keen on staying in one place, still finding comfort in being inside time rifts most of the time, though they still visited you more often than not, more often than other places. Seeing them you’d ask her what she wanted to know, to which she’d hum before saying.

“Anything, I dont really find it entertaining seeing it myself—Explain your world to me yourself, doll!”

So when night comes after a long day chatting, it is you who clings to her softly, as she watches you sleep cozily by her side. She smiles and pats your head, because as much as she’d prefer to fade into a time rift, she knows she cant let you go so easily, no. Not when you finally showed her happiness.

“Interesting, this place is… quite interesting…”

Seeing someone as tall as Millennial Tree in your home is but a piece of the whole puzzle. You are dumbfounded but in some sense, seeing them kneel to greet you is almost laughable.

He’s big, very tall and a gentle giant overall, and it shows when he holds your hand and tells you that your world is interesting to him.

He’s just as curious as everyone else, looking at everything, looking at everyone, he’s curious about you, curious about your world, yet he knows it’d be dangerous to leave on his own.

So, you take him to the forest, planing on leaving him go but…

“I dont want to leave you alone…”

He’d speak with conviction, looking at you as your eyes widened and your face dropped. Just what you feared would happen. He’d hold your hands together, looking at you with some concern before smiling softly, kissing both of your palms.

“I came here for a reason, that much I know, and I know that reason is within you… Allow me to stay by your side, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it worth it.”

You have no power in you to say no, to turn down his offer after his gentle and sweet words, that day you realized that perhaps he did come to your world for a reason, a world so clad in evil and pain…

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not travelling nor reading, he’s at home with you, cooking or revisiting each place he has gone to to help. He’s become… a sort of Messiah, you cant help it, become public enemy no.1 to some, and a savior to others, it truly depended on who you were asking. Your gaze would follow his as he trailed on a book you both were reading before he’d lean and kiss your forehead, things were… easy, happy with him there… You felt much happier.

“Is something the matter, sapling?” He’d ask, his gentleness carrying over to his voice as he hummed at your words saying it was nothing, but he knew better, still, he wouldnt push. “Are you perhaps tired?”

You pouted slightly before nodding, yes, you were quite tired, but you didnt want to admit to it. Still, he’d nod before moving the book to the side and lifting you into his arms. He’d carry you to your shared bedroom, careful on his way there before setting you on the bed with him, cozily, softly, carrying you to him as he pressed his lips on your forehead and your body to his.

“Sleep well, sunshine” He’d say, brushing hairs off your face before speaking again “Thank you for accepting me into your world…”

Honestly, how could you not at this point? With that thought in your head… You fell asleep.

[cutielando]

surprise | drew starkey

synopsis: in which Drew surprises you at one of your races

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

"I miss you" you whispered into the phone, your eyes stuck on the hotel room ceiling.

"I miss you too, darling" Drew's voice echoed through the phone, bringing a sad smile to your face.

The room was silent, the buzz of the track long gone as the late hours of the night rolled around.

The city lights of Abu Dhabi illuminated your dark room, casting a cold glow over your body.

The final race of the season was finally there, and you were so excited to finally finish the season on a high.

But still, something wasn't quite right.

Drew wasn't there with you.

He had to do some interviews for his new movie, "Queer", and couldn't attend the race. But even though you understood the demands of his job, you couldn't help the sadness that settled in the pit of your stomach.

"I wish you were here with me" you said, absentmindedly playing with the necklace he had given you for your 2 year anniversary.

Drew sighed, missing you just as much as you were missing him.

But slightly less, because he had booked a flight to come and see you as early as tomorrow, right before the race started.

"I know, I wish I was there with you to watch you be crowned World Champion" he said, teasing you a little with a smile on his face.

You laughed, knowing he was right.

After an amazing season, filled with multiple victories and even more podiums, you would finally be crowned World Champion after tomorrow's race.

Drew knew very well that becoming World Champion had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. It was precisely the reason why he had decided to reschedule his interviews and fly out to be with you during this moment in your career.

He couldn't wait to see the look on your face when you'd see him.

"Isn't it late over there?" Drew asked, after a few seconds in which neither of you said anything.

You looked over at the clock on your bedside table, the numbers illuminating 2:32 am.

"Yeah, it's half past 2 in the morning" you said, the tiredness of the full day slowly starting to catch up to you.

Drew huffed, knowing that you have to get some rest for tomorrow.

"You should get some rest, love. You need to be focused for tomorrow" he said, his voice soft.

You sighed, knowing he was probably right, but at the same time, you didn't want to hang up.

You wanted to keep talking to him, no matter what.

"But we barely had time to talk today" you said, your voice small.

Drew knew how sad you were, but he also knew you needed an incentive to actually start thinking about you and the race ahead.

He sighed, a smile tugging at his lips as he stood in the airport first-class bathroom, hoping you wouldn't pick up on the chatter outside the doors and realize he wasn't home where he was supposed to be.

"I know, and I'm sorry. But you know how it is, we're both busy right now. We'll see each other when you get back, and we'll make up for lost time. But you need to focus on tomorrow so you can show everyone just how amazing you are and win this championship" he said, his heart squeezing at the fact that he's going to see you soon enough.

You groaned, burying your face into your pillow.

Despite not wanting to admit it, you knew he was right. The tiredness from the day was catching up with you, your eyelids now heavy and your limbs sore.

"Okay. You're right. Talk in the morning?" you asked, your voice tired, but hopeful.

Drew chuckled, which warmed your heart and made it long with desire to see him soon.

"Yeah, text me when you wake up. I love you, good luck tomorrow" he said, his voice warm.

"I love you too" you said, your voice drowsy.

Drew smiled as he waited on the phone for a couple more minutes, listening to your breathing get slower and slower until he was sure you had fallen asleep.

He whispered a quiet 'I'll see you tomorrow' and blew you a kiss before he finally hung up, stuffing his phone in his pocket as he went back to the main lounge, counting down the minutes until his flight would take off and he would be a step closer to getting to Abu Dhabi.

A step closer to seeing you.

♡♡♡♡♡

Morning rolled around, your alarm blaring throughout the spacious hotel room.

You groaned as you stretched your arm and blindly tried to find your phone, desperate to get a little more sleep.

“Where the fuck is it” you grumbled under your breath, lifting your head to search for your phone through bleary and sleepy eyes.

Once you finally got a hold of your phone, you immediately disabled your alarm, falling backwards against the pillows once again.

You were tired, your limbs felt heavy, your eyelids were refusing to stay open for more than a couple of seconds at a time.

Maybe staying up late to talk to Drew wasn't your brightest idea, especially before a big race like Abu Dhabi.

After spending a couple of more minutes with your eyes closed, you finally decided to get up and start the day.

Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, you unlocked it and quickly texted Drew a good morning text.

You frowned a little when there was no reply from him, seeing as he usually always responded to you as quickly as he could.

Shrugging it off, you slowly got ready and met up with your personal trainer to make your way to the track.

Still frowning because Drew hasn’t texted you at all.

"Have you heard from Drew today? I texted him this morning but he hasn't replied to any of my texts" you asked Lizzie, your personal assistant.

Lizzie stilled for a moment, but quickly recovered and shook her head, giving you a sympathetic smile.

Unbeknownst to you, she knew about Drew's plans to surprise you, and knew he was currently on a flight to Abu Dhabi.

"No, sorry. I'm sure he's just caught up with interviews and doesn't have his phone on him" she said, at which you nodded.

Maybe she was right.

Or maybe she was downright lying and he was currently minutes away from landing in Dubai.

Only time will tell.

♡♡♡♡♡

"You're due in the car in 15 minutes" Lizzie announced as she stuck her head in your driver's room.

You smiled at her and thanked her, turning your attention back to your phone. You sighed, opening the iMessage app for what felt like the thousandth time in the past hour.

Drew still hadn't texted you, which was really nothing like him to not be in touch for so long.

What if something had happened to him? What if he got into an accident or something? What if he needed your help and you had no idea where he was?

Dozens of dark thoughts were clouding your mind, each more somber and dangerous than the previous one.

Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering you?

Your fingers were hovering over your keyboard once again, thinking about sending Drew just one more text before you really started freaking the fuck out.

But just as you were about to start typing out a message, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Yes?" you called out, your eyes fixated on the door.

There was no answer, but the door slowly started to open.

And then, your whole demeanor perked up instantly. There, standing in the doorway of your driver's room, in Abu Dhabi, was Drew in the flesh.

He sported a wide smile as he stood there, a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers clutched in his arms.

Tears started welling up in your eyes as your eyes found his, looking at you with so much love and longing for all the weeks you had spent apart until now.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming right now" you said, your bottom lip trembling and your voice croaked with emotion.

Drew smiled and hung his head low, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"I'm here, baby" his husky voice filled the small room, and that was it for you.

You quickly stood up and practically launched yourself in his arms, your head filled with nothing but love and gratitude for the man standing right in front of you.

Your head was buried in the crook of his neck, and you were inhaling his scent, that scent that could make you weak in the knees in no more than a second.

His arms were holding onto you tightly, the flower bouquet now completely forgotten about laying on the floor next to your little sofa.

"I missed you so much" you whispered, squeezing your eyes and letting the tears fall on his shoulder.

"Shh, I'm here now" he cooed, cradling the back of your head with his big hand.

The feeling couldn't be put into words, no matter how hard you would try. You had missed him so much, missed having him close to you, missed sleeping beside him every single night, missed his kisses and his lingering soft touches.

You had missed everything about him.

"I hope you know you're in trouble for not answering my texts all day and making me worried sick about you" you mumbled, your voice muffled by the collar of his jacket.

Drew laughed, his chest rumbling against yours.

"I know, I'm sorry" he said, kissing a spot beneath your ear, which had his breath tickling the side of your exposed neck.

You didn't even care that you had to be in the car in now probably less than 5 minutes.

The car could wait.

You were too focused on Drew to care about anything else.

But another knock on the door seemed to want to ruin your plans completely.

"Who is it?" you called out, still holding onto Drew tightly, not ever wanting to let him go.

"It's me" Lizzie called out from outside your room. "I'm sorry to break you guys up, but we need you in the car, the race is starting in 10 minutes" she said, which made you internally groan.

For a split second, it had felt like the race could be forgotten. That you could just skip everything you had to do that day now that Drew was with you.

But reality was knocking on your door (in the form of Lizzie) and telling you that it didn't quite work like that.

You still had a championship to win.

"Go, I'll be in the garage cheering you on" Drew said, pecking your cheek before slowly unwrapping his arms from your waist.

"Thank you for coming here. I love you" you said, taking his hand in your hands and pressing your lips against his.

The kiss told him everything that you couldn't put into words. How much you had missed him, how much you loved him and how grateful you were that he was there with you.

"I love you too. Now go, before your engineers have my head for making you late" he said as soon as you pulled away, giving your ass a small pat as he shooed you out of the room.

You smiled cheekily at him and took your helmet, pecking his lips one more time before you followed Lizzie to your car.

Let the show begin, you thought.

♡♡♡♡♡

You didn’t even remember how you had managed to finish the race due to the tears that had been streaming down your face from the final 5 laps of the race.

And then when you finally crossed the finish line in first place, you couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy and emotional because of a race ever before.

Adrenaline was coursing through your veins as the reality of being world champion started to settle in your mind, but your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only.

Seeing Drew.

As soon as you parked the car in front of the “1st place” sign, you jumped up and ran straight to him, waiting for you with your team at the barriers.

You scrambled to get out of the car as soon as you possibly could, desperate to throw yourself in his arms and finally let your emotions run wild.

"Drew!" you yelled out as soon as you got out of the car, abandoning your helmet and balaclava somewhere on the floor.

You broke out into a run, ignoring every single camera or reporter that had been waiting for you.

Drew smiled and jumped over the barriers, outstretching his arms just at the right time as you crashed into him, your hands wrapping tightly around his neck and your head resting on his shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you” he whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek and cradling the back of your head.

You chuckled and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of being with Drew after you had just achieved the biggest milestone of your career.

“Thank you for being my lucky charm” you said quietly, squeezing him a tad tighter than before.

Drew smiled and pulled away from the hug, cupping your face in his hands and crashing his lips against yours.

It was a messy kiss, very rushed and sweaty, but neither of you really cared at that point. Just being with each other was enough in that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of you in the middle of the busy post-race paddock.

And with flashes going off all around you, you let yourself be carried away by your boyfriend, basking in the glory of having just made history.

And having Drew by your side while doing it.

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[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° stains where you should be

( hinata shoyo x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — back in my haikyuu writing era ;)

♡ word count — 1.1k

♡ content — hinata shoyo x fem! reader, brazil! hinata, pro beach volleyball player! reader, slight nsfw, 18+, no explicit nsfw but it is mentioned, manga spoilers ig? even though i'm sure that many people know how it ends, established relationship, messy relationship, yearning, lmk if i missed anything!

♡ synopsis — after half a year in Brazil, the only time hinata feels like he is home...is when he's with you.

The first time Hinata sees you, you’re standing in the sand like you were born there.

The wind howls around you, but you don’t waver. The sand shifts beneath your feet, but you don’t stumble. Every movement is precise, every step purposeful.

You’re not just playing beach volleyball—you are the game, completely in sync with the rhythm of the court, the rush of the ocean breeze, the pulse of competition.

Hinata watches, entranced.

He came to Brazil to train, to push himself beyond his limits, to become more than just the player he was. But here, on the beach, everything is different.

The sand swallows his steps, the wind steals his control, and suddenly, the court he knew so well has transformed into something untamed.

He’s never played like this before, never had to adjust for an environment that fights back.

But you? You make it look effortless.

The match ends, and he’s already moving toward you before he fully realizes it. His shirt sticks to his skin, damp from his own practice, but all he can think about is you.

“How do you do it?” he blurts out, still catching his breath.

You turn, blinking at him with an unreadable expression. Up close, you’re even more intimidating—not in size, but in presence. Like you know exactly who you are, like the world doesn’t shake you.

“Do what?” you ask, tilting your head.

Hinata gestures vaguely to the sand, the wind, everything. “That! The way you move, the way you—like the wind doesn’t even touch you. How do you jump like that?”

A slow smile tugs at your lips. “I guess I just got used to it.”

“Teach me,” he says immediately, voice alight with determination. “Please.”

You exhale, watching him for a long moment before nodding. “Alright. Hope you’re ready to eat a lot of sand.”

It starts as training.

Late-night sessions on the sand, long after the sun has dipped below the horizon. The two of you meet when the rest of the world has gone quiet, when the only sounds left are the crash of waves and the occasional distant laughter from a nearby beach bar.

At first, he struggles. A lot.

The sand betrays him. The wind mocks him. The game he thought he understood has changed, and he stumbles over his own feet more times than he can count.

You laugh every time.

“Did you just trip over the air?” you tease as he groans, face-first in the sand.

“It moved!” Hinata protests, spitting out a mouthful of grit. “I swear the sand moved!”

You roll your eyes, offering him a hand. He takes it without hesitation.

The nights blur together—long hours spent chasing the ball, learning the subtle shifts of the wind, adjusting his jumps. He gets better. He learns fast. And as the training stretches on, something else changes, too.

One night, after an exhausting session, you tilt your head at him. “My place is closer than yours,” you say. “You can crash there if you want.”

Hinata hesitates for only a second before nodding. “Yeah. Okay.”

Your home is small but warm. The kind of place that feels lived in, filled with little pieces of you—a shelf lined with trophies, photos pinned up on a board, the lingering scent of something citrusy in the air.

You toss him a towel and some clean clothes. “These should fit you.”

Hinata looks down at the oversized towel wrapped around his waist. “What? You don’t like my new look?”

You snort. “Not unless you plan on making it a fashion statement.”

He grins but takes the clothes, disappearing into the bathroom. When he emerges, you’re already settled on the couch, a movie playing in the background.

Hinata isn’t really watching.

His gaze drifts to you—the way you’re curled up, comfortable, the way the screen flickers across your face. He doesn’t know why, but he wants to be closer.

The movie ends. You stretch, turning to him with a sleepy smile. “Goodnight, Hinata.”

Before he can stop himself, he leans in and kisses you.

Your breath hitches, but you don’t pull away. You kiss him back, fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer, and before either of you fully register what’s happening, you’re tangled together—breathless, desperate, lost in each other.

By the time you make it to your room, he’s memorizing the way your skin feels under his hands, the way your laughter gets caught in your throat. You sigh his name.

And for the first time since coming to Brazil, Hinata feels like he’s home.

You are happy. Really happy.

Days spent playing, nights spent wrapped up in each other, whispered confessions between laughter. You make promises in the dark, in the spaces between his dreams.

And then—he leaves.

Hinata tells you he’ll come back. Of course he will. How could he not? Brazil changed him. You changed him. He says it with so much conviction that you believe him.

But then the months pass. And pass.

You call. No answer. You text. No response.

Then one day, you see the headline.

“Hinata Shoyo Signs with MSBY Black Jackals”

The picture shows him back in Japan, grinning, surrounded by everything he once dreamed of.

Your hands tremble as you set your phone down. You wait for a message, for anything.

But nothing comes.

And for the first time, you wonder if he ever planned to come back at all.

It happens at a match.

You’re focused on the game, locked in, until you feel it—eyes on you.

When you glance to the side of the court, he’s there.

Hinata, hands shoved in his pockets, watching you like he did that first time.

Your chest tightens.

After the game, he approaches, hesitant but there.

“Hey,” he says softly.

You exhale. “Hey.”

For a long moment, neither of you speak. Then, he swallows. “Can we talk?”

You hesitate before nodding.

The restaurant is quiet. The food is untouched.

Hinata had requested a private room for the two of you, the empty room almost seeming as if it was mocking you. You'd rather be playing volleyball naked, you think.

Anything would be better than this strange form of torture Hinata has put you through.

You stare at your glass, and then the words slip out before you can stop them.

“I waited for you.”

Hinata’s breath catches. His grip tightens around his drink. “I know.”

Your voice wavers. “I waited, and you didn’t come back.”

When you finally look at him, tears are welling in your eyes.

Hinata feels something in his chest break, and before he can think—he’s kissing you.

Between kisses, he mumbles

I missed you.

Missed Brazil.

Missed us.

I love you.

When you pull away, your voice is quiet. “Then prove it.”

And this time—he will.

He swears by it.

trying to get back into multi-fandom writing :) hope this was good!

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!

[kirain]

Emmrich giving Rook her first kiss? 😶

I've never written so much romance in my life! I have been absolutely blown away by the requests and everyone's kind words, especially since this is such uncharted territory for me. I tried to keep this in line with the canonical first kiss in game.

I hope it delivers!

The moon hung heavy in the sky, its silver beams spilling through the garden where Vae and Emmrich stood. The evening air carried the scent of night-blooming flowers, a heady perfume that wrapped around them like a song. The peace, the romance—the temptation.

A sense of unease pricked at the back of Vae's mind. Her hands wrung together, a nervous habit Emmrich had rarely seen but fully understood. Her blue eyes, lidded and uncertain, briefly met his before darting away, as if ashamed. He could feel the hesitation in the space between them—the weight of something unspoken, something fragile.

"Vae?" he hummed, his voice kind, coaxing.

She swallowed before trying to speak, her words crumbling in defiance.

They had been dancing around their feelings for weeks, maybe months. Every glance, every lingering touch, every amorous word had built up to this moment of perfection. But now, her face lit by the stars, Emmrich could see it—ambivalence. The way her breath hitched in her throat, the way she swayed ever so slightly towards him, but didn't dare take that final step.

"You've never been kissed before."

It wasn't a question. She had told him she'd never been intimate, but he assumed that, at least—perhaps when she was younger—there might have been a boy who wooed her. Some friend or classmate who, in a moment of awkward, hormonal bliss, took something she was equally willing to give. A simple kiss and nothing more.

"No," she admitted, her blush deepening. "Not by anyone."

Emmrich's gaze softened, his usual sharp confidence tempered by something indispensable. He reached out, slowly, delicately, giving her every chance to pull away. But she didn't. Instead, she let him trace his fingers along the curve of her jaw, his touch light and reverent.

"You don't have to," he said, and she could tell he meant it. "We never have to, if you don't think you can bear it."

"I..." She paused, a tremor in her voice. "I do want to. I just... don't know how."

A persuasive smile tugged at the older man's lips, his dominant hand finding her waist. "Then let me show you."

Vae's breath caught as he stepped closer, the warmth of his body radiating against hers. His fingers swept over her cheek, until his whole hand settled there, the touch so gentle it sent a shiver down her spine. She liked it, and that was all the incentive he needed, his thumb ghosting over her lower lip.

"Emmrich," she gasped, the sensation new and exciting.

"Just breathe," he purred. "I see you, my darling."

His eyes, fervent but steady, held hers with a quiet patience. There was no demand in them, no expectation—only the promise of something she could choose, if she wanted.

She did want.

She let herself melt into his touch, basking in the way he looked at her—like she was his whole world, precious beyond comprehension. Her legs shuddered.

"What if I'm bad at it?"

Smoothly, as if rehearsed, Emmrich asked, "Have you forgotten I'm a professor?" He grinned, his tone laced with a reassurance that told her she could never disappoint him. "I'll teach you."

"Emmrich..."

"Vae."

He whispered her name like a secret, and she closed her eyes at the sound. Slowly—agonisingly slow—he dipped his head, the kiss nigh. Inevitable. Yet he paused, hovering so close, offering her one last chance to pull away. Instead, she lifted her chin with an earned trust, her silent invitation sending a needy ache through his chest.

Finally, his lips pressed against hers with an exquisite tenderness, careful and unhurried. He didn't demand, didn't take—he simply gave. A brush, a breath, a gentle push that sent heat spiraling through her body. Her hands, unsure where to go, moved to the collar of his shirt, her fingers curling into the fabric, and he moaned, approving yet restrained, holding back for her sake.

Then, he stepped back, only to capture her expression—to make sure she was comfortable. To his delight, her eyes held nothing but desire.

"What a day of unexpected splendor."

To show her how this could be.

Of pure ecstasy.

He dove back in, bringing his lips to her neck before roaming back to her mouth. He poured all his love and devotion into every ministration, hoping to reach the depths of her soul. Then, he lingered, giving her a moment to adjust, to take it all in, before he deepened the kiss just enough to fuel her hunger.

He wanted more—so much more, but he let her set the pace, let her explore the taste of his lips; guiding her, showing her. As she relaxed against the altar behind her, his hand slid back, fingers threading through her hair, cradling her as though she might collapse.

"Mmph..." Vae shivered, the kiss unraveling something inside her she hadn't known was wound so tightly.

A small sound escaped her, and Emmrich felt it—a spark of something untamed, just beneath the surface. He broke away again to meet her gaze, his fingers exploring the elegant contours of her face before gliding down to her shoulders, ready to draw her back in if she willed it.

"How was that, my darling?" he teased, his voice soft as velvet. "A worthy first time?"

Vae's heart raced, her chest heaving as she caught her breath, her cheeks blazing. She could still feel him, her lips tingling with the impression of his own. For a moment, she feared she'd float away, anchored only by his sensual grip. Then, she stared at him, enraptured by the memory, a shy smile his reward.

"...Again?" was all she could manage.

Emmrich chuckled. "As often as you like."

This time, it was her who leaned in first.

[guardian-of-da-gay]

"Love you!"

Read on Ao3

For @year-of-the-echidna's Prompt 4: Love

tw for language barriers, accidental voyeurism

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later, love you.”

Sonic’s Donut Lord said it when he left that first morning.  The hedgehog’s home had been badly damaged by Robotnik’s giant robot and the Lord of Donuts, as one of the protectors of this realm, was needed to defend the traffic detours left in the wake of destruction.

Knuckles understood all that.  Or… most of it anyway.  But he was less sure of the human’s words.  He knew better than to ask though.  In his experience, when people knew you didn’t fully understand their language, they would take advantage.  He did not know these Wachowskis very well yet, he would keep his confusion to himself.

For now, ‘love you’ was a form of ‘goodbye’.

His suspicion was confirmed later that day when the ‘pretzel’ woman was called to her duty as a healer of animals.

“I’ll be back in a couple hours.  I love you.”

Sonic had ducked and glanced at Knuckles and the fox.  Knuckles did not understand the meaning of this look.  He observed closely as Sonic looked to the matron of clan Wachowski and said a quick: “Yeah… love you, too.”

Definitely a form of farewell, but just in case he was wrong, Knuckles would not use it himself.

*

The next time Knuckles heard the word he felt a little more comfortable with this strange new tribe.  The hedgehog was eager to explain things and share parts of his world with both Knuckles and the fox.  They even taught him to play their pointless game ‘base of ball’, which Knuckles won, of course.  Afterward, they introduced him to an Earth delicacy: ice cream with sprinkles.

“I love mint!”  Tails exclaimed.

Hm.  That wasn’t how you used that word.

The Pretzel Woman smiled at the Lord of Donuts while he rolled his eyes.  “I love mint too!”  She said.

Ah.  Perhaps that was how you used that word.  It was… some sort of preference?  Was it just a similar sounding word to the ‘goodbye’ word?

“Tom thinks it tastes like toothpaste,” the Pretzel Woman said in a whisper far too loud for the Donut Lord not to hear.

Tooth paste?

“Hey, to each their own,” the Lord of Donuts shrugged his shoulders.  “You guys enjoy your toothpaste ice cream.  It leaves more moose tracks for me and Sonic!”

Moose tracks?

“What kind do you want, Knuckles?”  The Pretzel Woman asked.  “We have plain vanilla too if you want.”

Knuckles hesitated.  ‘Moose tracks’ did not sound appetizing, even if there were these magical ‘sprinkles’ involved.  The pasted teeth ice cream sounded equally baffling and unappealing.  If only there were a grape kind!  But Sonic had already told him that ice cream did not have grapes in it.

“I will have the ‘plain vanilla’,” he said.  “With sprinkles.”

‘Plain vanilla’ was not so bad, but he was disappointed to find that sprinkles tasted like nothing but crunchiness.  Grapes would have been far better.

*

“Trust me, Knuckles, I get it,” Sonic said.  “I used to love watching people.  Tails too.  But you don’t watch people in the shower.”

So ‘love’ meant ‘enjoy’ too?  It seemed to be quite a versatile word.  Unless there was some subtle nuance in pronunciation that Knuckles was missing.  It wouldn't be the first time.  Regardless: “I wasn’t watching anyone!”  Knuckles said, thoroughly confused.  “You told me to retrieve the Pretzel Woman’s permission.”

“Yeah, but she was in the shower.  Like… not wearing anything?  That’s private.”

Knuckles disagreed.  His people had always bathed communally, but even if that weren’t the case… “Sonic,” Knuckles looked at him, deeply unimpressed.  “I don’t wear anything.  You don’t wear anything.”

“Okay, fair!  But humans are different.  They need clothes to hide their… business.”

“Business?  What business?”

“It’s an expression!  Nevermind!  The point is you don’t go into the bathroom without knocking and if you hear the shower running, just turn around and wait.”

“I was waiting.”

“Outside.”

Knuckles sighed.  Humans certainly had plenty of nuance to their culture.  Why should their language be any different?

*

“Mads, could you get my car started so I won’t freeze when it’s time to go?”  The Lord of Donuts reclined on the couch with the Wachowski’s golden wolf.

The Pretzel Woman poked her head in the room, her arms full of their dirtied breakfast plates.  “You want me to start your car so you can be warm on the way to your job?”

“I can’t.  I’m trapped.”  The Donut Lord pointed to where the wolf’s head lay in his lap.  Knuckles knew from experience that the wolf was not that heavy, the Donut Lord should have been able to free himself.

The Pretzel Woman rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.  She set down the plates and made for the back door.

“I love you,” the Donut Lord called after her.

“I know!”  She called back.

Knuckles was doubly confused.  That made it sound like ‘love’ was a term of gratitude.  This language was so tricky!

But he had no time to dwell on it.  The weakling Lord of Donuts needed rescuing from the wolf.

*

“Oh my God!”  Sonic nearly collapsed with laughter.

Knuckles tried not to bristle in anger.  He didn’t know what was so funny.  The fox had merely spoken the truth and yet Sonic was laughing so hard at him!  Knuckles clenched his fists.  He felt a strange urge to defend the Tails’ honor.

“Man, Tails, I love you!  Never change.”

Knuckles frowned.  Sonic was laughing, but ‘never change’ seemed to be a compliment.  And he’d said ‘I love you', which either meant ‘goodbye’, ‘prefer’, or ‘thank you’.  Tails, at least, didn’t seem offended.  He beamed with pleasure, his tails twitching.

Knuckles was no closer to uncovering what ‘love’ meant.  But it seemed at least to be a good thing.

*

Tom looked very pale lying on his hospital bed.  They’d been reassured that he would survive his wounds, but it had still taken a long time for Sonic and Tails to fall asleep.  They lay curled together on a chair against the wall.

Maddie was in the hallway, speaking on the phone with Tom’s mother.  It seemed when one of the tribe was injured, many people had to be informed.  The concept was foreign to Knuckles.  In the echidna tribe, information never needed a far reach; there simply weren’t enough of them.  Everyone was usually there when an injury occurred.  But Maddie had called Tom’s mother and her own sister.  Then she’d been called by Tom’s brothers, one by one.  She’d pulled Sonic aside to speak with him, then Tails.  Everyone had spoken with her but Knuckles, so he wasn’t surprised when she finally called him out of the quiet hospital room.

Knuckles could not see them, but he knew there were G.U.N. agents guarding the doors at the end of the hall.  They would be escorted back to Green Hills once Tom was well enough to travel.  For now, at least, the hallway was empty except for a few chairs set against the walls and some scattered plastic plants.

Maddie sat in one of the hallway chairs, looking very tired.  “Hey honey,” she started.  “Sorry I haven’t had a chance to talk to you yet.”

Knuckles stood at attention before her.  “What did you wish to speak of?”  He asked.  Was she thinking, as he was, of their tribe’s security?  About the Master Emerald?  Who would lead the tribe now that the Lord of Donuts had been struck low?  How their wolf was coping without them back in Green Hills?

“Sonic told me about what happened,” Maddie said.

Knuckles’ shoulders slumped.  Oh.  That was none of those things.

“I just wanted to say I think you handled yourself really well.  I know it must have been hard, everything with Sonic…”  She trailed off, an expression crossing her face and then vanishing just as quickly.  She shook her head slightly before refocusing on Knuckles.  “Tails said you were really mature and looked after him.  I’m just really happy with how much you’ve grown.  You’re a good big brother and… I’m really proud of you.”

“Oh.”  Well, Knuckles really didn’t know what to say to that.  He toyed with the cuff of his gloves.

Maddie slid off the chair, reaching for him.  Her hugs were not quick things like Sonic’s.  Knuckles always knew when a Pretzel Woman hug was coming.  He knew that if he backed away or tensed, her arms would drop and she would change the subject, but he did neither.  He let her long arms wrap around him.  Knuckles was an echidna warrior, but Maddie’s arms made him feel so small.  Like he was a child again.

Her cheek pressed against his head.  Knuckles honored this bold display of trust by holding still.  The wrong move could prick her thin skin.

“I love you,” she said, carefully stroking the back of his head.

“You’re welcome,” Knuckles replied.  Hugs made him feel… unbalanced.  In a way that was very nice but almost overwhelming.  Just before it felt like too much, she pulled away.

She had a soft smile on her face.  “‘You’re welcome’?”  She asked.

Knuckles was still reeling from the hug, so he answered honestly, even if it made him look silly.  “‘I love you’ is an expression of gratitude.”

“What?”

Her tone was amused, but she managed to make it sound like she wasn’t laughing at him, so he continued:  “When Tom started the car for you, you said ‘I love you’.  It is a form of ‘thanks’, isn’t it?”

A shadow flickered across Maddie’s expression.  “No… Do you really not know what ‘I love you’ means?”

Knuckles’ shoulders tensed slightly.  Had he mis-stepped?  “That word gets used a lot.  I’m not familiar with it.”

“Oh.”  Maddie had that look on her face that she got sometimes when Knuckles told her things about his past.  He didn’t like it.  He thought he would rather not say anything than have her make that face.

“Love is like…”  Her eyes flit around, searching for inspiration.  “It can mean something that you like a lot.  Like: I love cake.  I just like cake a lot.  But it can also mean something beyond like.  It’s a feeling.  Like how married people feel toward each other?  Or how parents feel towards their kids and their kids toward them?  You know?  I love you and that means I want you to be happy and safe and always a part of my life.”

“So it is like… a deep affection?”

“Yes!”  She smiled warmly.

“Like… “  Knuckles sought for an example, and said the first that came to mind: “A mother and son?”

“Yes!  So… I feel love for Tom and Tom loves me and we feel love for you and Sonic and Tails.”

Knuckles nodded.  “I understand!”  He thought over all the times he had heard the word and found that, yes, it made sense that they were expressing affection for each other.  Or for pasted teeth ice cream.  Tails did really like that tooth paste flavor.

Maddie was watching him with a strange expression.

“What?”

“It’s… It’s nothing,” she said casually.  “Just… didn’t you hear that word before?  You know… like from your tribe?  Or… your father?”

What a strange question!  But perhaps Knuckles had done too good a job with his English.  “My people did not speak the same language as you,” he said.  Judging by the surprise that crossed her expression, he was correct.  He’d successfully fooled at least one of the Wachowskis into thinking their language was his first.  The thought didn’t leave him as glad as it once might have.  Instead, he felt the need to elaborate:  “Father used different words.  I have not heard ‘love’ before coming here.”

“Oh.”  Now a series of expressions crossed Maddie’s face.  Relief and sorrow and pity and resolve.  She shook her head minutely.  “What did your dad say?”

Knuckles tipped his head in confusion.  His father said many things.

“I mean, what words did he use to express affection?”

“The echidna words?”  No one had ever asked him for echidna words.  None had even asked for his echidna name.

But here Maddie was, a soft smile growing on her face.  “Yeah.  How do you say ‘I love you’ in echidna?”

It had been so long since Knuckles had heard or spoken his native language aloud, a part of him feared his tongue would forget how to form the words.  But when he opened his mouth, the words came back to him, old and familiar like a long-lost friend:  “T’onga ahau tekoe.”

He saw something almost like fear enter Maddie’s eyes, but she bravely took on the challenge: “Ton-guh ah-how tay-kway?”  She smiled like she was apologizing.  Which was appropriate.

“You just said ‘You are a mouldy pouch’.”

Maddie burst out laughing, then clapped her hands over her mouth.  Her eyes flicked to the open door, beyond which, the rest of their tribe lay sleeping.  “Sorry,” she said in a softer voice.  “Tell me again, I’ll get it.”

Knuckles repeated it for her and she tried again.  Again, she fumbled the words.  She insisted Knuckles help her to say it.  Knuckles obliged in large part because it was sort of amusing listening to all the nonsense she said while she stumbled over the words.  Eventually she was able to say it, albeit in a very stilted robotic tone with a powerful accent, but she said it:

“T’onga ahau tekoe, Knuckles.”

Knuckles smiled, his face warm beneath his fur.  “T’onga ahau tekoena, matem,” he replied.

“Wha-wha-what!”  Maddie held up a finger.  “What was that last part?  You didn’t teach me that last part!”

Knuckles looked away.  It was easier to say things in his own language.  He was too embarrassed to repeat it in English.  Instead he waved a hand.  “A lesson for another day.”

Maddie seemed unsatisfied, but she let it slide.  Curious, but not forceful.  She’d let him open up in his own time.  That was something Knuckles loved about his new matem.

[ohnoyuno]

Thread of a Promise 

Pairing: jung jaehyun x female reader Genre: angst, established relationship Warnings: unresolved feelings, emotional tension Word Count: 2917

Summary: Jaehyun cancels on Y/N for the third time, leaving her heartbroken and giving him the silent treatment as she was unable to bear the repeated disappointment. On the day of NCT’s concert, their emotions came to a head, and through Y/N’s quiet yet heartfelt actions, Jaehyun finally understood the depth of her hurt. 

26 August 2023

It was d-day of NCT’s first ever concert as a whole group, NCT Nation: To The World. 

You got up at the crack of dawn, determined to prepare your signature kimbap for the boys. It was your way of cheering them on, and in your words, the kimbap would give them the extra energy they needed for the big night. You had always believed that food had a magical way of bringing people together, especially when it was made with love.

It took you a while to prepare the food, glancing at the clock every now and then to make sure that you were on schedule. After carefully wrapping each roll and feeling satisfied that everything was in order, you packed the kimbap into its containers before cleaning up the kitchen and putting everything away. With the kitchen now spotless, you then went to get yourself ready for the day. 

Once everything was packed and prepared, you set off on the drive to Incheon, eager to deliver the carefully made kimbap to the boys.

After nearly an hour and a half on the road, you arrived at Incheon Munhak Stadium, where the concert would soon take place. As you pulled into the parking lot, one of your manager friends was already waiting to hand you the backstage pass.

With the pass secured, you wasted no time making your way to the waiting room, greeting the staff along the way and handing out the kimbap you had prepared for them. You also made sure to pack portions for the Dreamies, Visions, and Wishes as well, passing them to their respective managers. 

As you reached the door to Illichil's waiting room, Haechan was the first to spot you.

“Noona! You’re finally here! We thought you weren’t coming.” he exclaimed, bouncing on his feet.

You let out a small laugh, adjusting the bag in your hands. “Sorry! Got caught in traffic, but there’s no way I’d miss this.”

Haechan grinned, stepping aside to let you in. “Good, because we need all the energy we can get today.” he said, peeking into the bag you were carrying. “Wait—don’t tell me… is this what I think it is?”

“Of course. My kimbap is your secret weapon, right?” you chuckled.

Just as Haechan was about to respond, the rest of Illichil turned their heads toward the door. “Did I just hear someone say kimbap?” In an instant, Jungwoo appeared at the doorway, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. “You really did bring it!”

“You act like I wouldn’t.” you teased, handing him the bag of food. “You guys need all the energy you can get today.”

Yuta, who had been lounging on the couch, smirked as he stood up and stretched. “Our lucky charm never disappoints.”

Jaehyun, still in the midst of getting his makeup done in the corner, kept his eyes on you through the mirror, silently waiting for you to meet his gaze. When you finally did, your smile faltered. It was only a brief glance—almost dismissive, as if he wasn’t even there.

His grip on the armrest tightened slightly, but before he could dwell on it, Taeyong walked in, his presence instantly shifting the atmosphere. “Hey, you’re here.” he said, his voice gentle while pulling you into a hug. “We really appreciate this.”

“You always take care of us.” Doyoung added, already opening the containers to set up the table with the neatly rolled kimbap. 

“Someone has to.” You forced a small smile, nudging him lightly. 

Jaehyun remained quiet, still seated at the dressing table as the room buzzed with energy. The members gathered around the table, chatting excitedly as they got ready to dig into the kimbap you had brought.

Mark, fresh from finishing his makeup, walked over and glanced at Jaehyun on his way. “Hyung, come eat!” he called, motioning for him to join.

Jaehyun hesitated for a brief second before finally getting up, strolling over at an unhurried pace. His eyes flickered to the empty chair beside you, the only available seat left. It was clear the members had left it open for him.

But instead of sitting down, he turned to Haechan. “Haechan-ah, go over.” he said casually. “I want to sit under the fan.”

Haechan blinked up at him. “Huh? But—”

"Just move." Jaehyun muttered, his frustration evident as he gestured for Haechan to switch seats, choosing the spot furthest from you.

You didn’t react, merely continuing to pass out the food with an unreadable expression. 

The tension between you and Jaehyun has been building for a while now. It had been a week since you last spoke—ever since he stood you up on your date for the third time.

On the morning of your scheduled date, you were having your weekly breakfast with Taeyong when your phone buzzed. You glanced down to find a message from Jaehyun: “Something came up. I’m sorry.”

Frustration bubbled up inside you, and without thinking, you slammed your phone face down on the table.

Taeyong raised an eyebrow, sensing something was off. “What’s wrong?”

You tried to mask your disappointment with a forced smile, brushing it off. “Nothing’s wrong. You’re free tonight, right? Let’s go catch a movie.”

“Aren’t you going on a date with Jaeh— he canceled again, didn’t he?” Taeyong’s eyes narrowed as he connected the dots.

You nodded, a quiet sigh escaping your lips.

Taeyong shook his head in understanding. “A movie it is, then. I’ll pick you up after practice.”

No attempt to reschedule, no effort to make it up to you. That was when you made up your mind. You weren’t going to keep making excuses for him. You didn’t even bother confronting him when you saw him the next morning. He briefly apologised again and tried to initiate a conversation, but you ignored him, giving him the silent treatment for the rest of the week.

For days, you didn’t answer his calls or messages. Every attempt he made to reach out was brushed aside, deliberately giving him the space to sit with the consequences of his fault. He didn’t try to fix things. Sometimes, Jaehyun was just dense. Not even realizing the depth of what he’d done or why you were pulling away. It was as if the effort to understand never crossed his mind, and that’s what hurt the most. The feeling that maybe, he never really cared enough to notice.

You’d always face issues like this with silence. Jaehyun knew that. The silent treatment was how you usually processed things, how you created distance when words failed, and when you needed him to feel the weight of his actions.

You understood that with the upcoming concerts and the intense preparation for Golden Age, his schedule was packed. But that was exactly why you had requested a date night weeks in advance, knowing things would only get busier. You had planned ahead, making sure to accommodate his schedules, and yet, he still couldn’t make time for you.

The first time, you let it slide. The second time, you reassured yourself that it wasn’t intentional. But the third time? That was when you finally ran out of patience. It hurt more than you'd like to admit, this feeling of being invisible, like you were just another part of his busy routine. But you weren't about to beg for scraps of his attention. Not anymore. 

Taeyong, who was sitting directly across from you, observed the interaction in silence.

When your eyes briefly met his, he gave you a knowing look, subtle but unmistakable. Without breaking eye contact, Taeyong offered you a small, reassuring smile. 

As Johnny rummaged through the bag of food, he found a container of side dishes at the bottom, marked with a simple ‘J’. Recognizing it was meant for Jaehyun, he slid it towards him with a grin, hoping to lighten the mood. “Jaehyun, Y/N made this for you. You should eat up.”

“I didn’t ask her to. You guys can have it.” Jaehyun said while not even sparing it a glance. 

“It’s not his.” you interjected coldly. “I wasn’t sure if the kimbap would be enough, so I just made some extras.” The sharpness in your voice made the room go quiet for a moment.

Sensing the tension, Jungwoo quickly cut in, clapping his hands together. “Jal meokgetseumnida!” he said cheerfully, prompting the others to follow suit.

Haechan, oblivious to the weight of the situation, piped up, “Jaehyun-ah, you’re seriously the luckiest having Y/N as your girlfriend.”

A swift nudge from Yuta promptly silenced him.

Jaehyun didn’t respond. He merely set down his barely-eaten kimbap, stood up, and walked out onto the balcony. The room fell into an awkward silence as the balcony doors shut behind him. The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiled over, and you had reached your limit.

“Excuse me.” you said coldly, pushing your chair back as you got up to follow Jaehyun.

The air outside was cooler, a stark contrast to the heat of your frustration. Jaehyun stood by the railing, one hand gripping the edge and with a cigarette in another. He didn’t turn around when he heard the doors open, but he knew it was you.

“You really couldn’t help yourself, could you?” you said, crossing your arms.

Jaehyun exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ask you to do anything for me. And mind you, you were the one giving me the silent treatment all week. Aren’t you still mad at me? Why are you even here?”  

“Yes, you’re right. I am still mad at you,” you shot back. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. And it definitely doesn’t mean I’d break a promise I made, that I will be there for every single one of your shows.” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “But I guess it was all in my head, wasn’t it?”

He finally turned to face you, his expression unreadable.  

“Jaehyun, I’m mad because you keep pushing me away. Every time you cancel, it feels like you don’t even care to fix things, like I’m not worth the effort. Because no matter how much I try, it’s never enough for you.”  

His eyes flickered with something, guilt, maybe. But he remained silent.  

Without giving him a chance to speak, you let out a sharp breath, frustration bubbling over. “I get it. You’re busy. You have a lot on your plate. But don’t treat it like I’m forcing myself into your life when I’m the one who’s been left hanging over and over again.” you continued, voice shaking slightly.  

Jaehyun finally spoke, his voice low. “I never wanted to make you feel that way.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know I’ve been messing up, and I hate that I keep disappointing you. I’m sorry, Y/N. The last thing I ever wanted was for you to feel like you’re not enough.”  

You shook your head, blinking back the sting behind your eyes. “If you hate it so much, then why does it keep happening, Jaehyun? Why do I still feel like I’m the only one fighting for this?”  

“I don’t know.” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to fix this.” 

You met his gaze, your eyes narrowing. “What do you even mean by you don’t know?” you asked, the anger laced in your voice. "Do you even want to fix this?" The words came out more sharply than you intended, but the hurt that had been building up inside you couldn’t be contained any longer.

Jaehyun’s breath hitched at your words. His gaze flickered with hesitation before settling into something firmer. Determination. “Baby, of course I do.” he said, stepping closer. “I want us. I just… how can I make up for all the times I hurt you?”

You sighed, crossing your arms and looking away, not saying anything.

Jaehyun exhaled deeply, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze dropping to the ground. Shame flickered across his face as he hesitated, struggling to find the right words. He knew he had hurt you, had pushed you away when all you ever did was try to be there for him.

As if afraid of wasting another second, he stepped forward. “Can I start making it up to you now?”

Before you could respond, he reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your arm, sending a familiar chill through you. He paused, his eyes searching yours as if asking for permission, his breath still carrying the faint trace of tobacco, an oddly comforting scent that immediately brought you back to so many memories. Then, without another word, he leaned in, pulling you into a kiss.

His lips were warm, tender, but there was an undeniable urgency behind it, as though each second counted. The taste of the cigarettes lingered, mixing with the softness of his kiss, a contrast that made your heart ache with longing. His hands were gentle, but his grip on you tightened as if afraid to let go, as if this moment was something he feared losing. You could feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat syncing with your own, both of you craving something that had been missing for too long.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m really sorry.” he murmured against your lips, his forehead resting against yours as he pulled back slightly. His hands cupped your face gently, his eyes searching yours. “For making you feel like you weren’t enough when you’re in fact the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Your heart softened, the anger and hurt slowly unraveling in his arms. You let out a small sigh, your fingers lightly gripping his sleeves. “You have lots to do, Jaehyun.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, his grip on you tightening just a little. “I know.” pressing his forehead against yours. “And I’m going to do it right this time.”

His sincerity was written all over his face, in the warmth of his touch, in the way he held you like he never wanted to let go.

“You better.” you mumbled, though the fight in your voice had faded.

Jaehyun smiled, tilting his head slightly. “Starting with this.” And before you could question him, he kissed you again, soft and tender, a silent promise in itself.

When he pulled away, he laced his fingers through yours. “After the concert, let me take you home.”

You arched a brow. “And?”

“And…” He squeezed your arms, his voice low as his fingers grazed your skin. “Then, let me repay you with a show.” His hands slipped under your shirt, sending a spark of warmth through your body.

You chuckled shyly, shaking your head. “Funny. You have a bigger show to run later.”

Jaehyun paused, a mischievous grin forming on his lips. “True,” he said, his tone teasing. “But the biggest show will always be for you, Y/N. You’re worth it.”

His touch caressing on the bare skin of your waist, his eyes softening. “I promise.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words, the heaviness of the past weeks melting away in that moment. You smiled, “I’ll hold you to that.���

Jaehyun leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours once more, his lips just inches from yours. “Then I guess I better make this concert count, huh?”

You laughed softly, feeling the tension between you two finally dissolve. “Yeah, I hope you remember that when you’re up on stage later.” you teased, playfully squeezing his cheeks.

“I definitely will.” Jaehyun said, his voice low and steady. “But right now, all I can think about is you.”

The firm, reassuring pressure of his hand on your waist made you feel the weight of all his unspoken words. There was still so much left unsaid, but for now, his actions spoke louder than any apology could. He pulled you into another kiss again, not willing to let go.

As the kiss deepened, you felt the world around you blur, all the worries and the time apart fading into the background. 

You noticed the distant sound of the crowd from inside the stadium, signaling that the concert was about to begin. “Go get ready.” you said, pulling his hand out and giving it a gentle squeeze. “The concert’s about to start, and I think the rest of the guys are expecting you.”

Jaehyun hesitated to let go of you, his gaze holding yours for a moment before he snaked in one last kiss, as if to savor every second. “Thank you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

“I love you even more, Jeong Jaehyun. I’ll be waiting for you after the show,” you said, squeezing his hand one last time before stepping back, giving him space to return to the hectic atmosphere inside.

Jaehyun smiled softly, his eyes holding a mix of affection and warmth. "I'll see you soon." he said, giving you a final hug before stepping back. His presence seemed to linger in the air, even as he turned to walk back towards the waiting room. You watched him go, heart still racing from the moment you shared.

You felt a smile tug at your lips, knowing he was out there living his dream, exactly where he belonged, doing what he loved. And in some small way, you were part of that. For the first time in a while, everything felt right again.

Masterlist

[sky-scribbles]

Next up on Things I Liked About Veilguard: the faction leaders. We all know some of the factions and their NPCs did not get anything like the amount of content and character that others did (Strife and Irelin I'm so sorry, I still love you), but sometimes I take a step back and realise how wonderful the stuff we did get was.

I mean - Evka and Antoine. Everything about them is so heartfelt. I hadn't read the supplemental material, but they barely needed to interact before I understood why this sweet, smart guy and this tough, smart woman loved each other. They affirm each other constantly. They respect each other so deeply. They have written letters for the other to take to their Callings: a cipher only Antoine could read. Je t'aime. Je t'aimerai toujours.

I love how Myrna and Vorgoth are introduced, suddenly and unsettlingly there in the Lighthouse. I love Vorgoth speaking in all caps. I love the fact that nobody knows what they are. I love that they raised baby Ingellvar. I love how Myrna is calm and polished while every so often coming out with the absolute wildest shit. They're fun.

The Viper and Tarquin? Top tier. They might be my favourites, just because of how much they have going on. Each of them has a backstory, and you can see exactly how those backstories produced their personalities. Ashur has a secret identity you can piece together from notes and codexes (and it's the funniest identity possible). I love their argument over Ashur's paranoid investigation into Tarquin, because it shows that the world goes on when Rook is not in the room, and the NPCs have relationships that go through ups and downs.

I'm mildly insane over the level of devotion, with Tarquin's desperate letters to the Wardens if Ashur is blighted, begging for a cure Ashur won't take. Him standing over Ashur to defend him in the final mission, or else his devastating reaction if Ashur dies: 'It should have been me!' God, these NPCs are alive. (fun fact: I wrote most of this post, and then Sheryl Chee confirmed these two were written as being in love with each other and stupid about it. I'm so happy.)

Speaking of NPCs who love each other: Teia and Viago, my beloveds. Again, I was coming in without the supplemental material, and I was sold on them so fast. The way Viago tenderly cradles Teia from behind as they mourn Caterina. The way they're so involved in Lucanis's personal quests - they're his family, they're there for him, they love him. I love Teia's fierceness and her heart. I love their banter - so much mutual understanding, exasperation and affection mixed together. 'We know each other too well to be strangers.'

Isabela is as wonderful as she always is - I especially appreciate how her depiction in Veilguard makes it clear just how loving she is. But can we also talk about Rowan? (I don't know if she's technically considered a faction leader, but meh.) I love her poetic speech patterns; I love that she's a scholar who wrote a bunch of codex entires; I love her calm, soothing voice. I love getting to see a Rivani Seer at last. And I love how she'll suddenly turn around and say, still calm and soothing, 'Spirit of Determination: may your enemies die bitter and in pain.' Perfect, no notes.

Strife and Irelin, sadly, drew the shortest straw when it came to being fleshed out in-game. But what I do love about them is their relationships with your companions. I love the tiny detail of Irelin, Bellara's ex, helping her pack for the Lighthouse; I love how she writes to Bellara to beg her to take care of herself, because she still matters to her.

And while I am a profound Emmrook lover, I appreciate Emmrich/Strife so much too. I love their shared curiosity and sense of adventure; I love thinking that Emmrich might give Strife tenderness that his life has lacked, while Strife could help nudge Emmrich toward boldness. I love the idea of two older men who likely think love has passed them by suddenly going, oh. If the Veil Jumpers didn't get a deeper relationship with Rook, at least they got relationships with Rook's friends.

Dragon Age games always give us a fun roster of companions, but honestly? Veilguard got me invested in the non-companion NPCs more than any other game in the series. Yes, there should have been more - but what we got was so much fun.

tl;dr: Faction leaders, my beloveds.

[kkink]

so i have this one headcanon: mc goes to a party to forget the crush on jin, and meets haku. he offers to help.

_______________________________________

your fingers are already damp around the neck of another sweating bottle when you realize how much you've been drinking. the burn is welcome, smoothing out the rough edges of your thoughts, dulling that old, familiar ache in your chest. you don’t want to think about jin. don’t want to think about the way his voice had sounded - so flat, so unmoved. like it hadn’t cost him anything. you knock back another sip.

a laugh cuts through the noise, sharp and easy. you know that laugh. turn your head and see him - haku, lounging near the bar, one arm draped over the back of a chair, the other nursing a half-empty glass. his uniform jacket is missing, sleeves rolled up like he doesn’t have a care in the world, the veins in his forearms flexing. he catches you looking. grins.

“thought you were allergic to this kind of scene,” he says as you drift closer, half-shouting over the fifteen other ongoing conversations. “what changed?”

your tongue is also loose from the alcohol, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing. that you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for jin. so you just lift your drink and nod your head, a non-answer. haku just looks at you like he understood. (he does.)

“so you got an L from the ice king, huh?”

the words shouldn’t sting as much as they do. you shrug, eyes dropping to the floor.

“that’s a shame,” haku continues, and there’s something almost genuine in his voice. but then—“stop making that pathetic face, though. you look like a kicked dog. don’t tell me you’re still in love with that idiot?”

haku watches you for a moment, then leans in, close enough that you can smell the faint trace of coconut and vodka on his breath.

“let’s help you get over him then. should be easy.” his voice dips, playful, but not unserious.

you tilt your head, eyes narrowing skeptically. “how?”

he smirks. “how about you go out with me? we can be friends, but you can kiss me. do other things. distract yourself. what do you think?”

his eyes glint under the shifting lights, the weight of the bassline pressing between them. something in his voice half a joke, half not.

you blink.

and then you laugh.

because it’s haku. haku, who flirts like it’s breathing, who’s probably said some version of this line at least twenty times tonight alone. haku, who once told a spirit she was the most beautiful ghost he’d ever seen before exorcising her five minutes later.

you shake your head, amusement curling at the edges of your lips. “actually, that sounds like a great idea,” you say, matching his tone, matching his game. then you tip your chin up, eyes glinting under the shifting lights. “should we start now?”

his smirk stretches, lazy, knowing. he doesn’t answer right away—just watches you like he’s waiting for something. maybe for you to break first, to laugh it off, to take it back. but you don’t. and suddenly, the air between you feels different. thicker. heavier.

haku tilts his head, gaze dipping briefly to your lips before flicking back up. and then, he grins like he’s won something.

“you’re dangerous when you drink, huh?”

you hum, feigning innocence. “i have no idea what you mean.”

he chuckles, tipping his glass against yours in a slow, deliberate clink.

“alright then,” he says, like he’s accepting a challenge. “let’s see where this goes.”

the heat of the party presses in from all sides, but suddenly, it feels like the only real thing in the room is the space between you and haku. the crowd is still moving, the music is still pounding, people are still drinking and laughing and existing around you—but it all feels a little distant now, like background noise to whatever this is.

his eyes don’t leave yours, that lazy grin still playing on his lips, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll flinch. if you’ll break first. you don’t.

you take another sip of your drink, the alcohol humming in your veins, making everything feel a little looser, a little easier.

“so,” he says, tipping his glass back, swallowing the last of whatever was inside. “if we’re starting now, what’s the move?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “you’re the one who made the offer, figure it out.”

he exhales a short laugh, then tilts his head, considering. the dim, shifting lights cast sharp lines over his face, catching the faint sheen of sweat at his temple. you can tell he’s enjoying this—this little back-and-forth, this game—but there’s something else under it, something you can’t quite place.

then, without warning, he leans in.

______________________________________________________

[...]

[ginxyy]

Obsession

You had always known how to walk the line—teetering on the edge of danger, never really falling but always so close you could taste the rush. But the first time your path crossed with Minghao’s, it wasn’t about walking the line. It was about being pulled into a world of chaos, where rules didn’t exist, and the only thing that mattered was the sharp, burning heat between you and him.

The night you met, you hadn’t planned for anything to happen. You hadn’t meant to get tangled in his web of restless energy, the same way you hadn’t meant to smile when his eyes locked onto yours. But you did. And it wasn’t just a smile. It was a challenge. The kind that begged for consequences.

Minghao was different. Cold, calculated, but with a wildness simmering beneath the surface, barely contained by the carefully controlled mask he wore. His presence was a contradiction—poised, yet dangerous; quiet, yet loud in the way he made everything around him tremble. When you first saw him at a party, standing across the room, effortlessly attractive in his own way, you didn’t approach him. No, you waited. Watched. Because you understood the game, even then. The way he moved, the way he stood, like he was untouchable, but you knew—deep down—you were the one who could touch him.

And that’s when it began.

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was watching you. The tension was thick in the air, palpable, even though you were miles apart. He wasn’t the type to make a move unless he was sure, and you knew—he was sure.

But that didn’t mean he was ready for you.

His approach was slow, deliberate. His eyes never left you as he sauntered across the room, the flickering lights above casting shadows that danced over his sharp jaw, making his expression all the more dangerous. You didn’t move. You just stood there, your back pressed against the cool wall, your gaze steady but your pulse betraying the excitement that flared beneath your skin.

When he stopped in front of you, there was a moment of quiet. Just the two of you, the world outside nothing but a blur of noise and lights. He didn’t speak right away. His lips parted as if he was trying to figure out what to say, but you both knew the words didn’t matter. He was already here. And he already wanted you.

“You think you’re untouchable,” you whispered, your breath coming in shallow bursts.

His eyes flickered with amusement, but it didn’t reach his smile. “I don’t think. I know.” His voice was a low, dangerous hum, the kind that made every hair on your body stand at attention.

His fingers grazed your arm, and it felt like a spark was lit in your chest. It wasn’t gentle. It was possessive. And you let him.

You could have pulled away. You could have walked away.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you leaned in, your breath hot against his ear. “You don’t own me, Minghao.”

He stiffened, a shudder running through him at the sound of your voice, but he didn’t pull back. If anything, he leaned closer, his lips brushing your skin as he whispered, “I will.”

The first time you kissed him, it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t romantic. It was messy, hungry, as if both of you had been waiting for this moment for far too long. His hands were on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his breath mingling with yours in a way that made everything else fade away. There was nothing but him. Nothing but the heat of his body against yours and the growing need that consumed you both.

He kissed you like it was a war he intended to win, and you kissed him back with the same intensity, the same fury. Teeth clashed, hands roamed, and it wasn’t enough. It never would be.

Minghao growled, the sound vibrating through you, and you knew then—you weren’t walking away from this. No one walked away from Minghao once they were this deep in.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. And every time you thought you were finally free of him, he pulled you back. He knew exactly what buttons to press, what strings to pull, until you were wrapped around him, caught in the ever-tightening web of his obsession.

But you weren’t innocent in this, either. You played the game. You pushed him. You taunted him. You knew the words that would make his pulse race, the looks that would drive him to the edge.

“Do you want me to leave?” You asked once, late at night, your voice low and teasing as you straddled him, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw.

Minghao’s hands gripped your hips with bruising intensity, but his eyes were darker than ever. He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his fingers slid down your back, finding the delicate skin beneath your shirt, sending a shiver through your body.

“You think I’d let you leave?” His voice was barely a whisper, yet it was enough to make your heart race. “You’re mine. Whether you like it or not.”

The words shouldn’t have made you shiver with excitement, but they did. They always did.

There were nights when you hated him. Nights when his games went too far, when his possessiveness suffocated you, when his grip on you felt like a chain that you could never break. You fought back. You told him to stop. You demanded space.

But when you did, that’s when he became the most dangerous. When he pulled back, only to let you fall deeper into his grasp.

And it was on one of those nights—when you were at your breaking point—that he pushed you harder than ever. He didn’t ask for permission. He never did. He just took. His lips were on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as his hands roamed, touching you like he owned every part of you.

“You think you can fight me?” His voice was a low growl, and it made you shiver. “You can’t. Not when you want me just as much as I want you.”

And that was the moment it all became clear—you were trapped.

He kissed you like it was an apology. Or maybe it was a punishment. Either way, it didn’t matter. You were too far gone. You couldn’t breathe without him anymore. And neither could he.

Tell me to leave,” he breathed, his hands running up your sides, his breath ragged, desperate.

You didn’t say anything. Not because you didn’t want him to leave, but because the part of you that wanted to push him away had long since died. Instead, you gripped him, pulling him closer, your lips pressing to his ear as you whispered, “Make me.”

And that’s when he completely lost himself.

His kiss was ferocious, unrelenting. It was everything. His hands bruised your skin, his fingers gripping your hair as he dragged you deeper into the chaos. You didn’t know where he ended and you began anymore. It was just fire.

And you were both burning.

Minghao’s obsession was your obsession. His intensity mirrored yours, until you were both so tangled in each other’s darkness that you couldn’t remember a time before it. No one could save you. Neither of you wanted saving. You were two forces, colliding, and the world around you was nothing but smoke and mirrors.

In the end, you weren’t sure if you were alive or dead.

But you knew one thing for sure: Neither of you were ever getting out of this alive.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Whispers in the Studio

Chapter 6: The Quiet Before the Storm

The days after your quiet conversation felt both peaceful and uncertain. You and Marshall had agreed, without saying much, that you wouldn’t rush things. You would take it one step at a time, allowing your connection to unfold naturally. But sometimes, even the most well-intentioned decisions have a way of testing your resolve.

It was a Wednesday when everything changed.

The studio was once again quieter than during recording days, the usual chaos of mixing and brainstorming replaced by an eerie stillness. Marshall had been holed up in the sound booth for hours, working on a track that, from what you could gather, was hauntingly personal. You hadn’t heard him this quiet in a long time. Usually, he was immersed in his work, but today, he seemed distant, lost in a world only he understood.

You had long ago learned to respect his space, but as the hours ticked on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You stood in the doorway of the sound booth, watching him for a moment, unsure if you should approach.

“Marshall?” you called softly, not wanting to startle him.

His head snapped up, and for the briefest moment, there was a flicker of something—guilt, maybe?—in his eyes. He quickly masked it with a half-smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a little rough, but not unwelcoming. “You need something?”

You hesitated, stepping closer to the booth. “I was just wondering if you were okay. You’ve been in here for hours.”

Marshall’s gaze dropped back to the desk, his fingers idly tapping against the console. “I’m fine,” he said, but it didn’t sound convincing. “Just... working through some stuff.”

You frowned. You knew him better than that. You could feel the tension, the unease in the air. “What kind of ‘stuff’?”

He didn’t answer right away, the words seemingly stuck in his throat. Finally, he turned to you, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “I’ve got a lot going on, Y/N/N. You wouldn’t understand.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. Marshall had never been the type to push you away, especially when it came to his struggles. But now, there was something in his tone that made you feel like you were being shut out.

“I do understand,” you said, your voice gentle but firm. “You’re not alone in this. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

Marshall met your gaze, and for a moment, the walls between you seemed to crack, his vulnerability seeping through. But just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, replaced by that familiar mask of indifference.

“Not everything is for you to understand, Y/N” he muttered, his tone colder now. “Maybe it’s better if you don’t.”

The words hit like a slap, and you recoiled slightly, hurt flashing across your face. You had always been there for him, always understood his silence, his moods, his battles. You thought you knew him—knew the parts of him that no one else did. But in that moment, it felt like the distance between you had grown wider than ever.

“You think I’m not capable of understanding?” you asked quietly, trying to keep her voice steady. “You’ve never given me a reason to think that.”

Marshall’s eyes darkened, and he quickly stood from his chair, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He didn’t look at you, instead focusing on the equipment in front of him as if he could find an escape there. “I’m just... I don’t know, okay? I’m not in the mood for this. I’m trying to make this album work, and there’s just too much going on. I don’t have time for... whatever this is.”

You felt your chest tighten at his words. Whatever this is. You had spent years supporting him, making sure he was okay, making sure everything around him ran smoothly. And now, it felt like everything was falling apart.

“Is that really what you think?” you asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “That this is just... nothing?”

Marshall froze at your words, his back to you now. He could feel the weight of your disappointment even without looking at you. But it didn’t matter. He was afraid. Afraid that if he let you in completely, he would lose himself—lose the one part of his life that had always been his own.

“I don’t know what I think anymore, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice thick with frustration. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this. Whatever this is. You feel it too; you don't even want to put a name to it.”

The silence between them felt suffocating. Your heart ached, and for a moment, you thought you might cry, but you refused to break in front of him. You couldn’t. You had to be strong—if not for yourself, then for him.

“I know what I feel, and that is something. Maybe you need to figure out what it is you feel,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the knot forming in her throat. “But I can’t be part of something that doesn’t exist, Marshall. I can’t keep waiting around for you to decide if you want me in your life or not. Wanting things to be slow doesn't mean I'm not all in, but I can't be all in and have you looking for your out.”

It was the hardest thing you’d ever said. But it was true. You couldn’t keep sacrificing pieces of yourself to a relationship that he wasn’t ready to fully invest in. Your own heart having seal itself in the moment his wavered.

You turned to leave, but as your hand touched the doorframe, Marshall’s voice stopped her.

“Wait.”

You turned back, meeting his gaze. The look on his face was different now. The mask was gone, replaced by something that looked almost... vulnerable.

“I don’t want to lose you, Y/N/N,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m just... scared.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and raw. You swallowed hard, the pain in Your chest not quite dissipating. But you understood. He had been running from this, running from his feelings, from the fear of losing everything he had built. But in doing so, he had been pushing away the one person who had always been there for him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, stepping back toward him. “But I need to know that you want this too. That you want me.”

Marshall looked at you, his eyes searching hers for a sign that you weren’t just saying the words to make him feel better. That you weren’t going to walk away, not now. Not after everything.

“I do,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just... I don’t know how to make it work. I don’t know how to let you in.”

You took a step closer, closing the distance between the two of you. You reached out, your hand gently brushing his arm. “One step at a time, Marshall. We’ll figure it out together. But you have to let me in.”

For a long moment, you stood there, the silence between you heavy with unspoken truths. But there was a shift in the air—something that suggested you had finally found a way to meet each other halfway. You were no longer two separate pieces; you were starting to fit together.

And when Marshall's hands cupped your face, as he brought you in for a gentle kiss, you knew not only did he believe you but you believed him too.

[thesweetestsupervillains]

"Oh they hated her, and she hated them. They were quite ready to destroy her utterly, as they thought of her as a risk. Angry, bitter, mad scientists were the norm, but they were very much out of fashion. The world of the bomb had made world destroying weapons real... And someone like her talking about forcing the world forward seemed very dangerous indeed."

"Of course, it was harder to just get rid of her when she seemed to absorb information like a sponge and actively began challenging her teachers on things. Most teachers are roughly capable of using the spheres to around the third level... She managed what they did in under a year. She was knocking at the doors of what had once been called the 'deep mysteries' of the order of reason. When members learn how to do things that appear to be magic to the unawakened."

"Which of course, raised more questions and made a lot of people skeptical. It's also where I enter the story. I had come back to Earth, having just finished helping some fellow members around Jupiter. Imagine my surprise when the university was in an uproar about whether or not to terminate a new initiate. That's pretty strange on its own; Sons of Ether usually prioritize out of the box thinking."

"So I took it upon myself to see her for myself. Talk with her. And I must admit I felt that I understood her feelings; a world that felt small and constrained, and people who felt more comfortable inside their boxes than pushing the envelope. I made her an offer of course; I would take her under my wing and see for myself if she was capable. The other Sons were quite pleased to be rid of her; they assumed she would self destruct out in the far reaches of creation with me."

"Suffice it to say she did not. Once she was shown that the universe was not as small as they told her, most of her anger disappeared. She has an absolutely ravenous appetite for learning, and she genuinely believes she's doing good things. She's passionate and she's open minded, but she's extremely confrontational. She takes nothing at face value and demands that everything be proven. In other words, a perfectly normal Son of Ether in the era I was raised in."

"..Right. I suppose I could see how people decided that reigning their people in could stop something like that from happening agian." It was nice to hear they felt some responsiblity for what happened, in a weird way.

"I have been..made aware of it, yes." That was her way of covering up the fact that she was now second-guessing herself for having read it cover-to-cover twice now and still hasn't gotten whatever the awakening was.

"..That does sound like Gina." Forcibly expand the boundaries indeed - and seemingly as quickly as possible at that. Honestly, the Sons of ether seemed to have a more..sensible approach when put at odds like that.

She should really look into the rest of the sons of ether at some point-

"..So she ended up butting heads with the rest of the Sons of Ether often?"

[lululawrence]

X

[gai-sucks-titties-in-my-basement]

Gai has plummeted from the sky exactly twice in canon, one was his fall after releasing the 8th gate. A serene acceptance of his own end. And the second was off the Tobisachimaru, where Kakashi caught him and they fell hand in hand. Kakashis Story (the book) opens up to Gai I think at his most honest, he is childish and selfish and desperate. He threatens Lee into getting him on a flying boat for absolutely no reason, other than to feel the importance of being one of the first Shinobi to be on it. He is striving for a significance the universe stole from him by allowing him to leave past his prime, his moment with Madara where he was no longer human; but God. Kakashi has spent the entire novel not scrutinizing, but pitying Gai for a lack of understanding of what they have left. But Kakashi, who has lived in the past for nearly his whole life, is met with a woman who lives in that same war; who’s leaking grief out onto Kakashi the entire novel. In a moment of her exposition, her; the embodiment of past, weeping before Kakashi, Gai is falling off the boat. A descent into oblivion; an oblivion he wants but was denied. And Kakashi cannot care about the war or the woman or the past, all he does is jump after Gai. And hold his hand. It is by outside, coincidental forces (Sai, on a bird.) that either survive. Kakashi refused Gai to descend into oblivion alone.

This novel is also the first instance of Kakashi being relevant with both of his eyes. I like to think it’s them falling together that Gai really understands that this is the first time he’s looked into Kakashi’s eyes since adolescence.

[puppppppppy]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you